"The best brand, mind you, Mr. Latham," said the girl. "How much will they be?"
"Why, the very best—these imported perfectos, you know—are worth six dollars a box of fifty. Perhaps for election purposes something a little cheaper—"
"Oh, no; the best is none too good for the friends of Mr. Forbes, you know. And fifty—why fifty will scarcely go around. I'll pay for a hundred, Mr. Latham, and you'll see they go to the right persons."
"Of course; of course, miss. And much obliged. You see, young Forbes is well liked, and he's quite a decent fellow. I wouldn't be surprised if he gave Hopkins a hard fight."
"I'll tell you a secret," said Patsy, sweetly. "Mr. Forbes is bound to be elected. Why, it's all arranged in advance, Mr. Latham, and the better element, like yourself, is sure to support him. By the way, you won't forget to tell people about those signs, I hope? That the fight is not against advertising, but for beautiful rural homes and scenes."
"Oh, I'll fix that, Miss—"
"Doyle. I'm Miss Doyle, Mr. Forbes's cousin."
"I'll see that the people understand this campaign, Miss Doyle. You can depend on me."
"And if the cigars give out, don't hesitate to open more boxes. I'll call in, now and then, and settle for them."
I really think this young lady might have been ashamed of herself; but she wasn't. She smiled sweetly upon the druggist when he bowed her out, and Mr. Latham from that moment began to seek for friends of Mr. Forbes to give cigars to. If they were not friends, he argued with them until they were, for he was an honest little man, in his way, and tried to act in good faith.