“We’ll make all the arrangements,” Leonidas said. “Cuff, take Mr. Round into the station, and get his luggage, and then bring him back to the car. Er— take your time.”
“Bill,” Cassie said, as Cuff and Ernest left, “d’you mean—Bill, d’you feel sure about all this?”
“The Voters League, Cassie, has political power. But the Voters League needs money. If you had political aspirations, and money, it’s quite possible that you might make a deal with the Voters League. And to be Mayor of Dalton is, as Dow assured me, definitely a step up. Medora had cash. And the judge took it. You fit the judge in, Cassie, and you’ll find she works out. She’s hidden behind Estelle’s skirts sometimes, but she’s there.”
“Poor Ernest!” Cassie said. “Poor little man. Just a tool. And she was going to let Rossi take him for a ride! And he’s so proud of a Round being mayor! But, Bill, you’re still stymied! You know what Rutherford thinks of circumstantial evidence. You’ll never be able to prove any of this in fifty million years. Never. At nine-thirty, in fifteen minutes—didn’t you tell me nine-thirty, Margie? Well, at nine-thirty, she’s going to be made candidate for mayor, with acclaim. And what Rossi’ll do—”
“Fifteen minutes,” Leonidas said. “So. Cassie, how many people would you need to start a good, acclaiming demonstration?”
Cassie looked at him thoughtfully.
“Well, I’m pretty good by myself, Bill. And there’s Margie. And Cuff. Mrs. Pankhurst always used to say that three was the ideal number to start things.”
“Were you a suffragette?” Miss Chard leaned forward. “Really? So was I. I was in charge of a brigade, you know, in England. I’m quite good at demonstrations.”
“Why, Miss Chard, you old sport!” Cassie said happily. “Bill, just what do you want done in the line of a demonstration? I do hope it’s what I think!”
“Listen,” Leonidas said. “Listen carefully, Margie, because you’ll have to translate to Cuff. I want to get things straightened out before he returns with Ernest. Now, Cassie, you and Miss Chard—”
Ten minutes later, Cuff drew the sedan up in front of the thronged auditorium steps. A harassed-looking policeman yelled at them to move on, and then, catching sight of Cassie, smiled broadly and indicated with a gesture that they could park anywhere as long as they liked.
“Isn’t that nice!” Cassie said. “It’s Anderson. He’ll do anything I say. Margie, you and Cuff get the Ward Four boys. Oh, Anderson! Help me through the crowd, will you?”
“Hi, Mrs. Price,” Anderson said. “I been wondering why you wasn’t here to see the fun.”
“Oh, Anderson,” Cassie said, “I’m supposed to be sitting up on the platform in my best dress, and I got delayed— Can you shove us through this mob?”
“Wait’ll I get Feeny and Slim,” Anderson said. “Then you can get behind us, and we’ll have you on that platform in no time. Say, I seen Jock inside.”
“I want him,” Cassie said. “Thank you, Anderson. Isn’t this marvelous, Miss Chard! A flying wedge!”
“What do you think of this Round for Mayor business?” Anderson had to yell to make himself heard.
“Marvelous!” Cassie yelled back. “He’s with us, you know. Mr. Witherall’s got him—”
“Him?”
“He’s with Mr. Witherall. We had an accident, and that’s why we’re so late. His car got stuck—”
“Him? You mean her!”
Cassie laughed merrily.
“Him, Anderson. You’ve been listening to that propaganda. Wait, there’s Jock. Jock, come here! And bring that boy with the bugle. Chard, you start down that aisle. Bill, you and Ernest wait for Cuff’s boys— what did you say, Ernest?”
Ernest cupped his hands to his mouth.
“I said, Mrs. Price, are we late for the demonstration?”
Cassie smiled.
“We’re just in time to start it. Jock, lift that placard. Tell that boy to blow something. Reveille will do. Now!”
Fifteen minutes later, to his intense surprise, Ernest Round had been acclaimed the Voters League candidate for the Mayor of Dalton. The Ward Four demonstrators, delighted to find that Round was a man after all, were vociferous in their joy. They didn’t, as Cuff found time to tell Leonidas, like the idea of a lady mayor, anyway, not even at four bits a head. A man was better.
The Tuesday Club, after the first startled gasp, rallied loyally. It was, as Mrs. Tudbury said, all in the family.
Leonidas, with Miss Chard and Cassie and Jock grouped around him, surveyed the bedlam from the rear of the auditorium.
“There,” he said, “is as fine and spontaneous a demonstration as was ever inspired. Let us leave it, before my eardrums split.”
Cassie coughed as they walked down the deserted front steps of the building.
“Chard,” she said hoarsely, “you were marvelous. I think we should feel proud!”
Miss Chard coughed.
“I think so,” she said with pride. “Of course, Fm a little out of practice, but I think that went off quite well.”
“Jock, your friends were marvelous, too,” Cassie said. “That boy with the bugle must go to a matinee with us. I think I can truthfully say that not even Ernest Round is sure how that happened, and no one will ever know. No one will dare say a word, or question things, after that din. They can’t claim that was a mistake. They’d never dare. Did they get the judge out to the car? That shoulder-lifting was a stroke of pure genius, Bill.”
“Why, those friends of Cuff’s,” Jock said, “they just lifted the judge off that platform before she knew what was happening to her. And the way they whisked her out the side door! And was she ever mad! She was purple!”
“She was frothing,” Cassie said, “but there wasn’t a single thing she could do but let herself be carried out on their shoulders. Cuff had her in a viselike grip. My, aren’t things like that catching? I saw people carting Mrs. Tudbury around!”
“And the rector, too,” Miss Chard said. “The choir had him. Did the colonel follow Judge Round out? Did that part work out?”
“Oh, yes,” Jock said. “I made straight for Uncle Root and told him, and he
