"
"Then I won't be bothered. The election doesn't interest me," said Mr.
Marshall, turning away.
"Very well, I'll call Wednesday, sir, at the jail."
Marshall gave him a quick look.
"Who are you, sir?" he asked.
"John Burke, a detective."
The manager hesitated a moment.
"Come in, Mr. Burke," he said.
"I represent the Forbes interests," said the detective, seating himself
in the private office, "and it has come to our notice that Dr. Squiers
has permitted sixty-six fraudulent registrations to be entered on the
books. These sixty-six men are supposed to have been imported by you and
are now working at this mill."
"This is all nonsense!" protested the manager, growing pale.
"Forty men are sleeping in a near-by barn, and twenty-six in the
stock-room of the mill," added Mr. Burke.
"That isn't criminal, sir."
"No, indeed. The criminal act is their false registration, so far," said
the detective, blandly.
"But mark you, sir; if an attempt is made to vote those men tomorrow, I
shall arrest you, as well as Mr. Hopkins and Dr. Squiers."
"This is preposterous, sir!" blustered the manager. "There will be no
attempt made to vote them."
"I am quite sure of it," was the reply. "You may thank Mr.
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