But no sooner had the hall cleared than men began to return, in couples, in squads, and to take their seats. Scattergood was standing up now, counting. Fifty-two he counted, and remained standing.
"Polls is open, Mr. Chairman," says he.
"They was declared so, but—er—the voters has gone. I hain't clear how to perceed."
"Do your duty, chairman, like you said. Town meetings don't calculate to take account of hoss races, do they? Eh?... None of your affair, is it?"
Pilkinton looked at Scattergood, who smiled genially and said: "Duty's duty, Pilkinton. If you was to fail in your duty as a public officer, folks might git to think you wasn't the sort of citizen that could be trusted. Might even affect sich things as credit and promissory notes."
Mr. Pilkinton no longer hesitated.
"The polls is open," he said.
The fifty-two, ballots ready in their hands, started for the box, but Town-marshal Pease, awakened from his astonishment, lifted his voice.
"I got to stop that hoss race. Stop the votin' till I git back. That hoss race has got to be stopped."
"Seems to me like votes was more important than hoss races," said Scattergood.