"Done," broke in Travis. "I'm going to fight it out, Bennett. If
we get in wrong by dickering with them at the start it may be worse
for us in the end. Paying amounts to confession."
Bennett shook his head dubiously. "I'm afraid this will suit
McLoughlin's purpose just as well. Photographs are like statistics.
They don't lie unless the people who make them do. But it's hard
to tell what a liar can accomplish with either in an election."
"Say' Dean, you're not going to desert me?" reproached Travis.
"You're not offended at my kicking over the traces, are you?"
Bennett rose, placed a hand on Travis's shoulder, and grasped his
other. "Wesley," he said earnestly, "I wouldn't desert you even if
the pictures were true."
"I knew it," responded Travis heartily. "Then let Mr. Kennedy have
one day to see what he can do. Then if we make no progress we'll
take your advice, Dean. We'll pay, I suppose, and ask Mr. Kennedy
to continue the case after next Tuesday."
"With the proviso," put in Craig.
"With the proviso, Kennedy," repeated Travis. "Your hand on that.
Say, I think I've shaken hands with half the male population of
this state since I was nominated, but this means more to me than
any of them. Call on us, either Bennett or myself, the moment you
need aid.
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