THE home-coming of Congressman Caretall created a momentary stir in Hardiston; but that was all. Every one knew he had come home to take a hand in the mayoralty election; but every one also knew that the elder Chase was going to be elected Mayor in spite of all Caretall could do, and so the first stir of interest soon lagged. There was no sport to be had in an election that was a foregone conclusion.
Caretall did not seem to be worrying about the situation. He walked uptown every morning, waited at the Post Office while the morning mail was distributed, talked with the men that gathered there, went to the barber shop for his shave, to the Smoke House for his plug of black tobacco, to the hotel, or to the Journal office, or some other rallying spot for men otherwise unattached.
Now and then he was seen to drop in at Peter Gergue’s office; but the best proof that he was doing nothing to change the election lay in the fact that Gergue was idle. That lank gentleman seldom emerged from his office, and when he did so, the fact that his mind was free of care was attested by the circumstance that he left his back hair severely alone. Gergue was a Caretall barometer; and all the signs pointed to “fair, followed by a probable depression!”
A lull settled over Hardiston. Chase carried on his campaign regularly but without heat. He talked with individuals on street corners and with groups wherever he found them; he spoke most graciously to all who met him on the street; and as the last week before election dawned, he announced two meetings, to which all voters were invited. They would be held in the Rink; otherwise the Crescent Opera House—and at these meetings, numerous speakers would expound the justice of the Chase cause. Chase himself, of course, would be the principal speaker.
The first of these meetings was held on Tuesday night, a week before the election; the second was set for the following Saturday. On Tuesday afternoon, Amos Caretall and Chase came face to face in the Post Office; and half a dozen people saw them greet each other pleasantly and without heat. Chase spoke as though he could afford to be generous, Amos like a man willing to accept generosity.
“I hope you’ll come to my meeting to-night, Amos,” Chase invited with grave condescension; and he laughed and added: “You might learn something that would be of value—about municipal affairs—”
“I was figuring on coming,” said Amos, surprisingly enough. It was surprising even to Chase; but he hid this feeling.
“Fine, fine!” he declared. “Amos, I’m glad to hear it. Partisanship has no place in city affairs.”
“That’s right,” Amos agreed.
Chase laughed. “If you don’t look out, I’ll call on you to speak to-night,” he threatened.