"Forty sleep in Hayes's barn, and the other twenty-six in the stock loft over the planing mill. Marshall's got a commissary department and feeds 'em regular rations, like so many soldiers. Of course I'm paying for all this expense," acknowledged Mr. Hopkins, somewhat regretfully.
"And do you suppose these sixty-six votes will turn the scale?" asked Dr. Squiers.
"They're sure to. We finished the last canvass yesterday, and according to our figures Forbes has about eighteen votes the best of us. That's getting it down pretty close, but we may as well make up our minds we're beaten if we don't vote the men over at the mill. Marshall could have got me a hundred if necessary, but sixty-six is more than enough. Say Forbes has twice eighteen for his plurality, instead of eighteen; these sixty-six for me would wipe that out and let us win in a walk."
When Hopkins ceased there was a brief silence. Perhaps Dr. Squiers was thinking.
"I simply must have those votes, Doc," resumed the Representative. "It's the only way I can win."
"You've made a bungle of the whole campaign," said Squiers, bitterly.
"That's a lie. I've done a lot of clever work. But these infernal city girls came down here and stirred up all the trouble."
"You made a mistake pushing that sign issue. The girls beat you on that."
"If it hadn't been signs it might have been something worse. But I ain't beaten yet, Doc. Squiers. This deal is going to win. It's a trick the boarding-school misses won't understand until after they've cut their eye-teeth in politics."
"There's a pretty heavy penalty against false registration," observed the dentist, gloomily.