"Pretty thin, Mr. Merrick. Our majority is too great to overcome."
"What do you think your majority will be? About sixty-six?"
Mr. Hopkins gave a start and turned red.
"About sixty-six," he repeated, vacantly, trying to decide if this was another chance shot.
"Yes; about sixty-six mill hands."
The cat was out of the bag now. Hopkins realized that Merrick had some knowledge or at least suspicion of this plot. He tried to think what to do, and it occurred to him that if his visitor positively knew anything he would not act in this absurd manner, but come straight to the point. So he ignored the speech, merely saying:
"Anything else, sir?"
"No," replied Uncle John; "I'll go home, I guess. Folks'll be expecting me. Sorry Forbes hasn't got that sixty-six mill hands; but Doc. Squiers probably registered 'em all right, and they'll probably vote for Hopkins."
"Wait a moment, sir!" cried Erastus, as Uncle John was turning away. "That speech demands an explanation, and I mean to have it."
"Oh, you do? Well, I don't object. You may not know it, but Squiers has registered sixty-six non-voters, and I want to know whether you're prepared to give half of them to Forbes, or mean to keep them all for yourself."