“Isn’t it beautiful?” asked Patty, with a kind of proprietary pride.

“It is as fine as anything in the Alps,” Warrington admitted.  “Shall we go a-fishing in the morning?”

“If you can get up early enough.”

“Trust me!” enthusiastically.

“I netted one this morning that weighed three pounds.”

“Fish grow more rapidly out of water than in,” railingly.

“John, didn’t that bass weigh three pounds?” Patty appealed.

“It weighed three and a half.”

“I apologize,” said Warrington humbly.

“How’s the politician?” whispered Kate, eagerly.

“About to find himself in the heart of a great scandal.  The enemy has located us, and this afternoon the Times is to come out with a broadside.  I haven’t the least idea what it will say, nor care.”

“That’s the proper way to talk,” replied Kate approvingly.  “We climbed that bald mountain yesterday.  Patty took some beautiful photographs.”

“The tip of your nose is beginning to peel,” said Warrington irrelevantly.

“It’s horrid of you to mention it.  I’m not used to the sun, but I love it.  Patty is teaching me how to bait a hook.”

“I’d like to see a photograph of that,” Warrington cried.  “Say, John, is there any way of getting to-night’s newspapers up here?”

“Nothing till to-morrow morning.  The boat leaves the mail at night.  But what’s this talk about politics?” John demanded.

Warrington looked at Patty and Kate in honest amazement.

“Do you two mean to tell me,” he asked, “that you have really kept the news from John?”

“You told us not to tell,” said Kate reproachfully.

“Well, I see that I shall never get any nearer the truth about women.  I thought sure they’d tell you, Jack, that I’m going to run for mayor this fall.”

“No!”

“Truth.  And it’s going to be the fight of my life.  I accepted in the spirit of fun, but I am dead in earnest now.  Whichever way it goes, it will be a good fight.  And you may lay to that, my lad, as our friend Long John Silver used to say.”

He said nothing, however, of his interview with McQuade.  That was one of the things he thought best to keep to himself.

“I’ll harangue the boys in the shops,” volunteered John, “though there’s a spirit of unrest I don’t like.  I’ve no doubt that before long I shall have a fight on my hands.  But I shall know exactly what to do,” grimly.  “But hang business!  These two weeks are going to be totally outside the circle of business.  I hope you’ll win, Dick.  We’ll burn all the stray barrels for you on election night.”

“There’ll be plenty of them burning.  But I shall be nervous till I see the Times.”

“You’ll have it in the morning.”

Warrington sighed.  Half an hour later the bungalow came into view.