Carton looked Kennedy squarely in the eye again, and we all understood what it was he meant that was at stake.  It might be possible after all to gloss over almost anything and win the election, but none of us dared to think what it might mean if Miss Ashton not only suspected that Carton had been fraternizing with the bosses but also that there had been or by some possibility could be anything really in common between him and Mrs. Ogleby.

That, after all, I saw was the real question.  How would Miss Ashton take it?  Could she ever forgive him if it were possible for Langhorne to turn the tables and point with scorn at the man who had once been his rival for her hand?  What might be the effect on her of any disillusionment, of any ridicule that Langhorne might artfully heap up?  As we left Carton, I shared with Kennedy his eagerness to get at the truth, now, and win the fight—­the two fights.

“I want to see Miss Ashton, first,” remarked Kennedy when we were outside.

Personally I thought that it was a risky business, but felt that Kennedy must know best.

When we arrived at the Reform League headquarters, the clerks and girls had already set to work, and the office was a hive of industry in the rush of winding up the campaign.  Typewriters were clicking, clippings were being snipped out of a huge stack of newspapers and pasted into large scrapbooks, circulars were being folded and made ready to mail for the final appeal.

Carton’s office there had been in the centre of the suite.  On one side were the cashier and bookkeeper, the clerical force and the speakers’ bureau, where spellbinders of all degrees were getting instructions, final tours were being laid out, and reports received of meetings already held.

On the other side was the press bureau, with its large and active force, in charge of Miss Ashton.

As we entered we saw Miss Ashton very busy over something.  Her back was toward us, but the moment she turned at hearing us we could see that something was the matter.

Kennedy wasted no time in coming to the point of his visit.  We had scarcely seated ourselves beside her desk when he leaned over and said in a low voice, “Miss Ashton, I think I can trust you.  I have called to see you about a matter of vital importance to Mr. Carton.”

She did not betray even by a fleeting look on her proud face what the true state of her feelings was.

“I don’t know whether you know, but an attempt is being made to slander Mr. Carton,” went on Kennedy.

Still she said nothing, though it was evident that she was thinking much.

“I suppose in a large force like this that it is not impossible that your political enemies may have a spy or two,” observed Kennedy, glancing about at the score or more clerks busily engaged in getting out the “literature.”

“I have sometimes thought that myself,” she murmured, “but of course I don’t know.  There isn’t anything for them to discover in this office, though.”