"I shouldn't have cared half so much if the squall had blown away every barn I've got. The ruin of that tree is all that it means to me."
He little dreamed what other and immeasurably greater consequences were to come to him as the result of that brief atmospheric disturbance, but he was destined, after a time, to find out.
When the two friends returned from their ride of a dozen miles or so, bringing with them a pair of wild turkey gobblers shot upon the flush, they found Carley Farnsworth in the hall, as the broad passageway through a Virginia house was called, very busily writing upon small slips of paper, of which he had prepared a considerable number before beginning to write. He was too busy to give more than a scant greeting to his friends, but in lieu of greater cordiality he handed one of his written slips to each, saying:
"Read that, and don't interrupt me, please. I'm expecting a messenger every moment."
On each of the slips was written:
"I am authorized by Colonel Robert Conway to add his name to the list of those who urge Mr. Boyd Westover's election.
"(Signed) Don Carlos Farnsworth."
As Westover and Towns looked wonderingly at each other, after reading the slips, Carley Farnsworth threw down his pen, exclaiming:
"There! that's fifty. Talk will do the rest."
Then, filling and lighting a long-stemmed pipe, he said to the others: