"'Taint easy, ye know, miss, to say some things, an' this is one o' the
hardest," he began.
"Go on," said Beth, encouragingly, for old Will had suddenly stopped
short and seemed unable to proceed.
"They say, miss, as you folks is a-spendin' uv a lot o' money on this
election, a-gittin' votes, an' sich like," he said, in an altered tone.
"It costs a little to run a political campaign," acknowledged Beth.
"They say money's bein' poured out liken water--to git votes," he
persisted.
"Well, Mr. Rogers?"
"Well, thet's how it started, ye see. We're so agonizin' poor, Nell
thought we orter git some o' the money while it's goin'."
The girl was much amused. Such frankness was both unusual and
refreshing.
"Have you a vote to sell?" she asked.
He did not answer at once, but sat slowly twirling his hat.
"That's jet' what Nell thought ye'd ask," he said, finally, "an' she
knew if ye did it was all up with our plan. Guess I'll be goin', miss."
He rose slowly from his seat, but the girl did not intend to lose any of
the fun this queer individual might yet furnish.
"Sit down, Mr. Rogers," she said, "and tell me why you can't answer my
questions?"
"I guess I'll hev to speak out an' tell all," said he, his voice
trembling a little, "although I thought fer a minnit I could see my way
without.
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