ways--I--” He stopped uncertainly.

“Reck’n you’d disown him.”

An unexpected and very human weakness showed in the countenance of the elder Chase. His features worked; he said huskily, “Well--the boy--he’s my only child, Amos.”

Amos had never liked Winthrop Chase till that moment. He was surprised at the burst of sympathy that moved him. He nodded. “You’re right, Chase. And--Wint’s a good boy, I figure.”

His tone encouraged the other. Chase leaned toward the Congressman. “Amos,” he said, “there’s a new day coming in Ohio politics.”

Amos looked puzzled. “To-morrow’s always likely to be a new day.”

“Things are changing, Amos.”

“How?”

“Men are dissatisfied with the present--administration of affairs.”

“Men are always dissatisfied.”

“They’re looking around for a new--hired man--Amos.”

Amos chuckled; then he said slowly: “Well--there’s lots of folks looking for the job.”

Chase hesitated, considering his next word; and in the end he cast diplomacy to the winds and came out flatly: “Amos--it’s a good time to look around for friends. To make new alliances.”

Amos looked at the other thoughtfully. “Meaning--just what?”

Chase said simply: “You and I ought to get together, Amos.”

“We’re--here together.”

“I mean--a permanent alliance--offensive and defensive. For mutual good.”

Amos’ pipe had smoked itself to the end. He emptied it with his accustomed care before answering. Then he said slowly: “Specify, Chase. Specify.”

Chase proceeded to specify. “I’m going to be the next Mayor of Hardiston, Amos.”

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