“Yes; in my pocket,” said Mr. Hopkins.

“Then make out your check and I’ll get the books.”

There was a stir behind the partition and a sound of chairs scraping the floor.  Patsy slid out the door and flew down the stairs at the imminent danger of breaking her neck.  James was seated in the buggy outside, engaged in rumination.

Patsy bounded in beside him and startled him.

“Drive for your life!” she cried.  “Drive for home!”

He whipped up the spirited horse and they dashed away.  Presently the man asked, with a grin: 

“Did it hurt much, Miss Patsy?”

“Did what hurt, James?”

“The tooth pullin’, Miss Patsy.”

“The tooth wasn’t pulled,” answered the girl, sweetly.  “It didn’t need it, James.  The only thing that was pulled was the Honorable Erastus’s leg.”

CHAPTER XX

PRICKING A BUBBLE.

When Patsy arrived home she called a council of war and related the conversation she had overheard in the dentist’s office.

“It isn’t a very nice thing to do—­listening to a private conversation,” said the girl, “but when I discovered they were going to play such a trick on Kenneth I couldn’t help eavesdropping.”

“I think you were justified,” declared Mr. Watson, with a grave face; “for this matter is very serious indeed.  Tomorrow is election day, and if a toothache hadn’t carried you to the dentist’s office Kenneth would surely have been defeated.”

“And we’d never have known how it happened,” declared Uncle John.

“But can the plot be foiled at this late date?” inquired Louise, anxiously.

“I think so,” said Mr. Watson.  “Dr. Squiers was correct in saying that such a crime was a state’s prison offense.  Our discovery of it will send both Erastus Hopkins and Dr. Squiers to prison.  Probably Mr. Marshall, the manager of the mill, will go with them.”

“Oh, I don’t like that!” exclaimed Patsy.

“Nor do I,” added Kenneth.  “It would be a sad beginning to my political career to send three such men to prison.  I’d like to avoid it, if I can.”

“Perhaps it may be quietly arranged,” said the lawyer.  “If they knew you had discovered the false registration of these men, they would never dare vote them.”

“How would it be to send Mr. Burke, the detective, over to the mill to talk with Mr. Marshall?” suggested Beth.

“That is an excellent plan, and would be very effective in determining the manager to abandon the plot.”

“I’ll go and see Hopkins myself,” announced Uncle John.  “I know how to manage men of his sort.”

“Very good,” approved the lawyer, “and I’ll see Squiers.”

“If you do,” said Patsy, “just ask him to sign a paper saying that Lucy Rogers was falsely accused of stealing the ring, and that his mother found it in a vase, where she had forgotten she put it.”