"Then you've got the registration books in your possession."
"I admit that," was the reply. "But you're asking me to incriminate
myself, 'Rast. If the thing was discovered it would mean prison for both
of us."
"Fiddlesticks!" cried the irascible Hopkins. "These things are done
every day, and no one's the wiser for it. It's merely a part of the
political game."
"I'm afraid, 'Rast," said Dr. Squiers. "Honest Injun, I'm afraid."
"What are you 'fraid of? I've got the other clerks all fixed, and
they'll stand by us. All you need do is to add these sixty-six names to
the registration list, and then we'll vote 'em without opposition and
win out."
Patsy gave a gasp, which she tried to stifle. The toothache was all
forgotten.
"Where are these men?" inquired Dr. Squiers, thoughtfully.
"They're over at the mill. Marshall got 'em from all over the country,
and they'll be set to work today, so everything will seem reg'lar."
"Where do they sleep and eat?" inquired the doctor.
"Forty sleep in Hayes's barn, and the other twenty-six in the stock loft
over the planing mill. Marshall's got a commissary department and feeds
'em regular rations, like so many soldiers. Of course I'm paying for all
this expense," acknowledged Mr.
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