Rodney Potts, that gallant old war-horse." Across the top of its front page each week stood "POTTS FOREVER--POTTS THE COMING MAN!" "Big Joe" Kestril was the chief henchman of Potts, and his fidelity was like to have been fatal for him.

He threw himself into the campaign with a single-heartedness that left him few sober moments.

Upon the City Hotel corner, day after day, he buttonholed voters and whispered to them with alcoholic fervor that Potts was a gentleman of character, "as blotchless as the driftin' snow." Joe believed in Potts pathetically.
The campaign wore its way through the summer, and Solon Denney was still silent, still secretive, still confident, but, alas! still inactive so far as we could observe.

I may say that we lost faith in him as the barren weeks came and went.

We came to believe that his assured bearing was but a shield for his real despair.
Having given up hope, some of us reached a point where we could view the whole affair as a jest.