Where was Wint? Others beside Bentley were asking that question, as the afternoon of the election wore along. Where was Wint? No one had seen him. Everyone was asking the question. No one was answering. But the inquirers, casting back and forth along the trail, at length hit upon one fact. Wint, for days past, had been consistently in the company of Jack Routt. Where, then, was Routt? On the morning after Amos Caretall’s announcement at the Rink that he would vote for a Chase for Mayor, Jack Routt had gone to the Congressman with questions on his lips. He had come away with instructions, instructions to keep much in Wint’s company and to keep the young man out of harm’s way till election day. He had done this zealously. Until Monday evening, he and Wint were almost constantly together. That evening, Wint went to Joan’s house, and bluntly rebuffed Jack’s offer to accompany him. But when Wint came out--and he came out in a sulky and defiant manner--Jack was waiting for him at the gate.

Jack did not appear to be waiting. He seemed to be merely passing, on his way downtown; and Wint hailed him. “Hello--you!” “Hello, Wint! Just going home?” “Home? It’s early yet. Going uptown?” “Yes.” Routt hesitated, as though confused. “I--we--I’m going up to get a prescription filled.” Wint laughed. “For snake bite?” “Oh, no. A real prescription.” “You don’t say!” Jack protested. “Sure. So--good night.” Wint thrust his arm through the other’s. “What do you want to get rid of me for? I’ll walk up with you.” Jack balked. “Oh, now, Wint--you--your father will be down on you. You ought to cut it out, Wint. There’s nothing in it for you. You never know when to stop!” Wint stiffened sulkily, but his voice was gentle. “That’s tough! Too bad about me! And it’s a shame what dad will do to me, now isn’t it?” He took a step forward. “Coming, Jack?”

So they departed together. At daylight, the elder Chase, arising early to go to the polls, met Routt. Jack was homeward bound; and he was a weary young man. Wint was not with him. They exchanged greetings, but no more. Routt did not again appear in public until something after noon, election day. When he came downtown then, he was as spruce as ever, his eyes clear, and his cheeks pink with health. He showed no signs of the--fatigue that the elder Chase had remarked in him. Forthwith, men began to ask him: “Where is Wint?”

The first man that put the question was Peter Gergue. This was a big day for Peter. He had been busy, whispering and advising and suggesting and laughing a little behind the back of the elder Chase. He had been too busy getting out the votes and directing the voters to think 

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