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individual with humor； two political arts that seemed to come to him naturally。 He certainly knew much more about rural problems than either Hughes； the Reform candidate； or Verner； the Constitutional candidate。 And he probed those problems with a human curiosity； and went below the surface in a way that neither of them dreamed of doing。 He soon became the voice of popular feelings that are never found in the popular press。 New angles of criticism； arguments that had never before been uttered by an educated voice； tests and comparisons that had been made only in dialect by men drinking in the little local public houses； crafts half forgotten that had come down by sign of hand and tongue from remote ages when their fathers were free all this created a curious and double excitement。 It startled the well informed by being a new and fantastic idea they had never encountered。 It startled the ignorant by being an old and familiar idea they never thought to have seen revived。 Men saw things in a new light； and knew not even whether it was the sunset or the dawn。
Practical grievances were there to make the movement formidable。 As Fisher went to and fro among the cottages and country inns； it was borne in on him without difficulty that Sir Francis Verner was a very bad landlord。 Nor was the story of his acquisition of the land any more ancient and dignified than he had supposed； the story was well known in the county and in most respects was obvious enough。 Hawker； the old squire； had been a loose； unsatisfactory sort of person； had been on bad terms with his first wife （who died； as some said； of neglect）； and had then married a flashy South American Jewess with a fortune。 But he must have worked his way through this fortune also with marvelous rapidity； for he had been compelled to sell the estate to Verner and had gone to live in South America； possibly on his wife's estates。 But Fisher noticed that the laxity of the old squire was far less hated than the efficiency of the new squire。 Verner's history seemed to be full of smart bargains and financial flutters that left other people short of money and temper。 But though he heard a great deal about Verner； there was one thing that continually eluded him； something that nobody knew； that even Saltoun had not known。 He could not find out how Verner had originally made his money。
〃He must have kept it specially dark；〃 said Horne Fisher to himself。 〃It must be something he's really ashamed of。 Hang it all！ what IS a man ashamed of nowadays？〃
And as he pondered on the possibilities they grew darker and more distorted in his mind； he thought vaguely of things remote and repulsive； strange forms of slavery or sorcery； and then of ugly things yet more unnatural but nearer home。 The figure of Verner seemed to be blackened and transfigured in his imagination； and to stand against varied backgrounds and strange skies。
As he strode up a village street； brooding thus； his eyes encountered a complete contrast in the face of his other rival； the Reform candidate。 Eric Hughes； with his blown blond hair and eager undergraduate face； was just getting into his motor car and saying a few final words to his agent； a sturdy； grizzled man named Gryce。 Eric Hughes waved his hand in a friendly fashion； but Gryce eyed him with some hostility。 Eric Hughes was a young man with genuine political enthusiasms；； but he knew that political opponents are people with whom one may have to dine any day。 But Mr。 Gryce was a grim little local Radical； a champion of the chapel； and one of those happy people whose work is also their hobby。 He turned his back as the motor car drove away； and walked briskly up the sunlit high street of the little town； whistling； with political papers sticking out of his pocket。
Fisher looked pensively after the resolute figure for a moment； and then； as if by an impulse； began to follow it。 Through the busy market place； amid the baskets and barrows of market day； under the painted wooden sign of the Green Dragon； up a dark side entry； under an arch； and through a tangle of crooked cobbled streets the two threaded their way； the square； strutting figure in front and the lean； lounging figure behind him； like his shadow in the sunshine。 At length they came to a brown brick house with a brass plate； on which was Mr。 Gryce's name； and that individual turned and beheld his pursuer with a stare。
〃Could I have a word with you； sir？〃 asked Horne Fisher； politely。 The agent stared still more； but assented civilly； and led the other into an office littered with leaflets and hung all round with highly colored posters which linked the name of Hughes with all the higher interests of humanity。
〃Mr。 Horne Fisher； I believe；〃 said Mr。 Gryce。 〃Much honored by the call； of course。 Can't pretend to congratulate you on entering the contest； I'm afraid； you won't expect that。 Here we've been keeping the old flag flying for freedom and reform； and you come in and break the battle line。〃
For Mr。 Elijah Gryce abounded in military metaphors and in denunciations of militarism。 He was a square…jawed； blunt…featured man with a pugnacious cock of the eyebrow。 He had been pickled in the politics of that countryside from boyhood； he knew everybody's secrets； and electioneering was the romance of his life。
〃I suppose you think I'm devoured with ambition；〃 said Horne Fisher； in his rather listless voice； 〃aiming at a dictatorship and all that。 Well； I think I can clear myself of the charge of mere selfish ambition。 I only want certain things done。 I don't want to do them。 I very seldom want to do anything。 And I've come here to say that I'm quite willing to retire from the contest if you can convince me that we really want to do the same thing。〃
The agent of the Reform party looked at him with an odd and slightly puzzled expression； and before he could reply； Fisher went on in the same level tones：
〃You'd hardly believe it； but I keep a conscience concealed about me； and I am in doubt about several things。 For instance； we both want to turn Verner out of Parliament； but what weapon are we to use？ I've heard a lot of gossip against him； but is it right to act on mere gossip？ Just as I want to be fair to you； so I want to be fair to him。 If some of the things I've heard are true he ought to be turned out of Parliament and every other club in London。 But I don't want to turn him out of Parliament if they aren't true。〃
At this point the light of battle sprang into Mr。 Gryce's eyes and he became voluble； not to say violent。 He； at any rate； had no doubt that the stories were true； he could testify； to his own knowledge； that they were true。 Verner was not only a hard landlord； but a mean landlord； a robber as well as a rackrenter； any gentleman would be justified in hounding him out。 He had cheated old Wilkins out of his freehold by a trick fit for a pickpocket； he had driven old Mother Biddle to the workhouse； he had stretched the law against Long Adam； the poacher； till all the magistrates were ashamed of him。
〃So if you'll serve under the old banner；〃 concluded Mr。 Gryce； more genially； 〃and turn out a swindling tyrant like that； I'm sure you'll never regret it。〃
〃And if that is the truth；〃 said Horne Fisher； 〃are you going to tell it？〃
〃What do you mean？ Tell the truth？〃 demanded Gryce。
〃I mean you are going to tell the truth as you have just told it；〃 replied Fisher。 〃You are going to placard this town with the wickedness done to old Wilkins。 You are going to fill the newspapers with the infamous story of Mrs。 Biddle。 You are going to denounce Verner from a public platform； naming him for what he did and naming the poacher he did it to。 And you're going to find out by what trade this man made the money with which he bought the estate； and when you know the truth； as I said before； of course you are going to tell it。 Upon those terms I come under the old flag； as you call it； and haul down my little pennon。〃
The agent was eying him with a curious expression； surly but not entirely unsympathetic。 〃Well；〃 he said； slowly； 〃you have to do these things in a regular way； you know； or people don't understand。 I've had a lot of experience； and I'm afraid what you say wouldn't do。 People understand slanging squires in a general way； but those personalities aren't considered fair play。 Looks like hitting below the belt。〃
〃Old Wilkins hasn't got a belt； I suppose；〃 replied Horne Fisher。 〃Verner can hit him anyhow； and nobody must say a word。 It's evidently very important to have a belt。 But apparently you have to be rather high up in society to have one。 Possibly；〃 he added； thoughtfully〃possibly the explanation of the phrase 'a belted earl；' the meaning of which has always escaped me。〃
〃I mean those personalities won't do；〃 returned Gryce； frowning at the table。
〃And Mother Biddle and Long Adam； the poacher； are not personalities；〃 said Fisher； 〃and suppose we mustn't ask how Verner made all the money that enabled him to becomea personality。〃
Gryce was still looking at him under lowering brows； but the singular light in his eyes had brightened。 At last he said； in another and much quieter voice：
〃Look here； sir。 I like you； if you don't mind my saying so。 I think you are really