The Washington herald., 1913-08-24

| face. He had failed of prize at the
! seed warehouses; annual distribution,
and he knew what was the matterl
"They give it to that Dutch tenant
] who farms Dan Boydston's west eighty.
| And what did / get, hey? SEunked-
yes, sir-skunkedl And there amt ary
ear of my load that amt bettern
Boydston's land can raise. But know.
Boydston's a board member, and Tan
ner's man, and Tanner owns the seed
company! That's it, by craclyl Politics
and rottenp
The editor listened sympathetically.
He always ia. The farmer roared
and fourished his disprized seed ear.
He was -agin the tariff" and the ad-
ministration, and everything else. 1t
was rotten when man couldn't get
a blue ribbon on corn like his cornl
Arne Vance fingered Mr.. Sourds'
| product. He chewed grain and felt.
| over the golden spike. Its good,
he commented, but the kernels break
I before they run over the nub, and
| they're shallow. Ike, some day I'll
| shoY you how to judge corn the way
we do up at the agricultural college.
The man was suspicious OF this fool
| book farming.
And let me send a dozen Of your
ears to the State board" put in Cur
ran. Hes a great man, that secre-
/ tary. He'll sit down and write you a
letter worth all the ribbons Tanners
seedhouse could give you"
Ike Sourds did not know. He was
sure there was something crooked
about it.
Il tell you what we'll do" exclaimed
Hemminger. This editor, he's going to
run for Congress in the primary, and
we want him to come out and Arne
with him, and they can talk politics
and seed corn together. Hey, Arne?"
The farmer-student's black eyes
snapped. Go? 1t was a great idea!
Hemminger's sad eyes lit. The sus-
picious Sourds grew interested. by
Jinks, if there was anything like that
going on in Hemmingers district, our
district ought to have it, tool We
want much for style, our folks. in
No. Five, but Arne Vance can come
talk seed corn and sour soil, and then
this editor can get up and whale the
plutocratsl It's a right lonesome road
out our way, but We take the News
and we know somethingp
And he and Hemminger went off
with a promise. Curran watched the
shaggy farm horse Steaming in the cool
sunshine, the bundled figures on the
seat, until the wagon drew into a gap
of the hills. They wanted him, did
they? After all, his yelling brat OF a
paper did find its way out to the lone
ly farms and was read and believed
He turned to discover Arne watch
ing him curiously. YOU'RE going,
Wiley"
"Surel'
Wen elect you. Wileyl We-and
they! Quit your grubbing away in this
dinky shop and come out among us {
Janet's been seeing things very clearly.
There never was such a chance-the
county needs a leader. I'm telling
you what the young men say over the
county. And there's Father Doyle,
who's trying to build his church up
among the foreigners at the new mines,
and Mcbride this State labor organ
izer, who's working to unioniZe the
new factory people around Earlville-
none of them cares a damn about the
old gang in this town-the best fam
lies and the courthouse jobs and all
thatI"
Il know" said Curran quietly.
They've both talked with me-urged
me-"
Arne's eyes glittered. "Janet-" he
muttered grimly. Her work."
The editor was musing. Janet,
again. Always Janet! She seemed be-
hind every manifestation of his new
place in the hearts of men, his awak-
ened ambitions, his power to be him.
Ea1T
panion, demanding freedom, giving it;
that was what she had said the modern
woman could be! He was awakening
to this magnihcence in Janet. And
yet she must love him-she could do
that also! And slowly his dream grew
to vision of love past the common
call of sex, passion ennobled by the
riches of her personality. There would
be none of the parasitic clinging to a
man, the need of sentimentalizing
shelter and protection. The helper to
power, the counselor to a widening life
this would be the woman to comel
This would be Janet!
He met the elder Vance next day,
Jake, the political farmer, the malcon-
tent, an original Greenbacker, a mug
wump, party trouble-maker, forever
given to standing about the Square
Saturday afternoons in his moth-eaten,
old buffalo coat arguing with the
countymen. He could not have been
elected to any Office, but he had not
soured. His children had inherited his
reasoning unrest, but they had dis
ciplined it to achievement.
Somebody to beat Hall-somebody
to beat Hallr' he roared. Folks say
MS comm to be you. Wileyl ! get it
everywhere except in the News, and
in the banks and warehouses and the
courthouse! The country amt what it
used to be-there are mines and fac
torieS-and libraries and labor unionsi
The old gang doesn't realize that. It's
you, Wiley, all the kickers want. And
| hear your amt got the money?
Amt some OF these new real estate
men and boomers over in Earlville
close to you for that?"
"Not much. Cal Rice and Thad are
In with 'ern on most of their deals"
Jake went out in the frosty sunlight.
Don't forget he growled, that
there's sight of people who amt in
any deals Arne, let's go home and
feed stock with that contrsption of
yours up in the haymoww
He looked off across the Sduare to
the window of the school superintend-
ent's office: Il guess that girl of mine
is ready to go home, toor'
TO BE CONTINUED NEXT SUNDAY