“You ain’t? Then you must be one of these mediums that can read a folded paper.”
“Oh, sugar! You go....”
Amos grinned. “Matter of fact, Jim, I wish I knowed you was right. I’m frank to say, Jim, that I got a bet on a horse named Chase to win.” Jim gasped, and Amos nodded soberly. “Yes, sir, Jim. You just hear me.”
Jim took a plug of tobacco from his pocket and tore at it with his teeth and stuffed it away again. The operation restored his composure. “Well, Congressman, you’d ought not to bet—and you a lawmaker.”
“It ain’t rightly a bet, Jim,” said Amos. “It’s a sure thing.” He turned toward the door. “Good aft’noon, Jim.”
The voting, beginning slow, had picked up during the noon hour. A steady stream of men came in throughout that period and when this stream subsided, four-fifths of the registered voters had cast their ballots. Ed Howe suggested: “Might as well close up shop at four, hadn’t we, Jim?”
“Sure,” said Jim. “They ain’t no real contest to-day anyway.”
“I reckon that’s right,” Ed agreed.
This was a quarter before two o’clock in the afternoon. At two o’clock, Caretall and Chase came face to face at the door of the voting room. They came in arm in arm; and Chase asked graciously: “Well, boys, how are things going?”
Jim Thomas reported briskly, “Fine, Mr. Chase. Most of the votes in. Ed and me’s figuring to close at four.”