had telephoned the principal's office and had asked that he be summoned. The boy went upstairs at once.
"How are things shaping up?" the lawyer asked.
"We can find only seventy-two sure votes."
"And the election only eight days away. Son, we've got to hustle. Can you meet me at my office to-night at eight o'clock? Perhaps it will be better if you bring a couple of other fellows with you. Eight sharp."
At eight o'clock Praska was there with Bristow and with Perry King. "Sorry," said Carlos Dix. "I thought we'd be able to talk things over here, but we've got to go elsewhere."
They followed him, and Praska was conscious of how much they had come to rely upon this man's judgment and leadership.
Presently they turned in at a walk outlined with trim hedge. Bristow dug his elbow into Praska's ribs, and the president of the Northfield Congress looked at the editor inquiringly. Bristow merely smiled. And then, as Praska recognized his surroundings, an electric tingle shot him through and through. They had come to B. B. Ballinger's home.
Mr. Ballinger himself opened the door. Carlos Dix was the last one to enter the house.
