street; a knock sounded on the door. Perry King and Bristow clamored for admittance.
"The first ballot box has just been turned in to the City Clerk," Perry panted. "Fourth election district of the second ward. The vote was sixty-eight for the field and fifty against. What do you think of that?"
"We've started something," Bristow cried excitedly.
Hope—wild hope—came to Praska. Only about half of the voters were bothering to mark their ballots on the referendum; but of those who had voted, a majority had thrown their support to the school. If the same ratio held throughout the town—
"I'll go back with you," he said.
When they reached the City Hall, the City Clerk's office was crowded, and it was impossible for them to worm their way past the doorway. They stood in the rotunda, among excited men who spoke only of the vote on Commissioner Sloan. He was, on the early returns, running behind. Out in the street horns began to blow, and a procession wormed its way into the building. The marchers were the supporters of the man who was running against the Commissioner. From time to time election boards, having finished their count, came in with their tally-
