But would his father need a defender?  No shadow of doubt as to this was admissible in the face of the accumulating evidence, he told himself.  From the opening day of the campaign the machine and the corporations had been working hand in hand; Gryson and his fellow-crooks were the sufficient proof; and besides....  Blount reached under the mattress and drew out the wrapped package, untying the string with fingers that trembled.  A cursory examination of the affidavits sufficed.  In Gryson’s sworn statement, and in two others, the “Big Boss” was inculpated definitely and by name.

Blount glanced at the little clock on the dressing-case.  The early Sunday morning silence still prevailed in the great hotel, and his resolve was quickly taken.  Dressing hurriedly, he went up to his own room, and after a shave, a bath, and a freshening change which included the removal of the disfiguring bandage, he put on a close-fitting silk travelling-cap under the soft hat and went down to the lobby.

There were but few guests stirring at that hour, and Blount had the writing-room to himself when he bought a copy of The Plainsman and turned anxiously to the editorial page.  After the first thrilling of relief born of the newsboy’s cry, an unnerving fear had crept in to whisper that possibly the facts might not bear out the thankful assumption.  A rapid reading of Blenkinsop’s editorial confirmed the fear, and the reader’s lips grew dry and his breath came quickly when he realized that the submerging wave of thankfulness had risen only to be driven back.  Blenkinsop had no facts, no evidence; he was merely hitting out blindly with a general accusation of fraud which he made no effort to substantiate or prove!

Evan Blount saw the thorny path stretching away before him again, and he rose up to walk in it like a man.  As once before, he went down to the railroad restaurant for his breakfast, seeking solitude, and the meal had been half-absently eaten before he had readjusted himself, sorrowfully but firmly, to the unchanged situation.  His duty was as clearly defined now as it had been the day previous, or at any time in the past.  There was nothing changed, nothing different, save that a new complication had arisen in the crucial shortness of the interval for action.  Knowing human nature a little, he knew how difficult it is to arouse an effective public sentiment on the eve of an election, no matter how important the issues involved.  In a hard school of experience the voter has learned to discount the final-moment cry of fraud.  Would an exposure, however convincing, appearing only in the Monday and Tuesday morning newspapers have the desired effect?

Blount walked by devious ways from the railroad station to the Temple Court, and secluded himself behind the locked door of his office to have a chance to think the problem out to some effective conclusion.  What should he do?  Should he find Blenkinsop and get him and the United Press representative together at once, laying before them the damning evidence and telling them to use it as they could?  Or was there some surer way of firing the mine of protest and exposure?