“Cover him quickly, Esther, my dear,” the man gasps, and buries his face in the pillow.  “God of mercy, wipe that picture out of my memory!” he prays.

CHAPTER VII

THE PRIMARIES

The sun of Friday morning shines brightly.  The sparrows chirp, the wagons rattle, the boys cry the papers, and the household smiles.

The peddling huckster’s son is not surprised.  He knew Dr. Floddin would cure Davy.

The cook buys heavily.  They’ll eat now.  “Mind what I’ll fix for that darlint to-day!” she threatens.

The housekeeper has taken Esther’s place at Davy’s couch.

“You have undoubtedly saved the life of your boy by making him take the emetic.  He will love you just as much.  I know—­Mrs. Lockwin was telling me how much it disturbed you.  Don’t lose your empire over him, and he will be all right in a week.  He must not have a relapse—­that might kill him.”

“Doctor, I am risen out of hell, the third day.  I cannot tell you what I have felt, especially since midnight.  But I can tell you now what I want.  I desire that you shall take my place on this case.  My personal affairs are extremely pressing.  What yesterday was impossible is now easy.  In fact, it seems to me that only impossibilities are probable.  Remember that money is of no account.  Throw aside your other practice.  See that the women keep my boy from catching that cold again and I will pay you any sum you may name.”

In Lockwin’s school money will purchase all things.  Money will now keep Davy from a relapse.  Money will carry the primaries.  Money will win the election.

After all, Lockwin is inclined to smile at the terrors of the evening before.  “I was in need of sleep,” he says.

He has not slept since.  Why is he so brave now?  But brave he is.  He carries an air of happiness all about him.  He has left his Davy talking in his own voice, breathing with perfect freedom and ready to go to sleep.

The people’s idol appears at head-quarters.  He tells all the boys of his good fortune.  They open his barrel and become more in hope of the country than ever before.

The great Corkey appears also at Lockwin’s head-quarters.  “Hear you’ve had sickness.” he says.  “Sorry, because I guess I’ve knocked you out while you was at home.  I never like to take an unfair advantage of nobody.”

“Glad to see you, Mr. Corkey.  Go ahead!  Nobody happier than me to-day.”

“He beats me,” said Corkey; “but he isn’t goin’ to be so sweet to-night.”

“Oh, I’m elected, sure!” Corkey announces on the docks.  “Harpwood he offer me the collectorship of the port if I git down.  But I go round to Lockwin’s, and he seem to hope I’d win.  He beats me.”

“Why, he’s the machine man, Corkey.  You don’t expect to beat the machine?”

“Cert.  All machines is knocked out, some time, ain’t they?”