The boys are just red hot for me. Wish you'd come down, Father Forbes,
and address a few words to the meeting--just mention that I'm a
candidate, and say I'm bound to win, hands down. That'll make you solid
with the boys, and we'll be all good fellows together. Come on down!"

The priest affably disengaged his arm from the clutch which the speaker
had laid upon it, and shook his head in gentle deprecation. "No, no; you
must excuse me, Theodore," he said. "We mustn't meddle in politics, you
know."

"Politics be damned!" urged Theodore, grabbing the priest's other arm,
and tugging at it stoutly to pull him down the path. "I say, boys" he
shouted to those below, "here's Father Forbes, and he's going to come
down and address the meeting. Come on, Father! Come down, and have a
drink with the boys!"

It was Celia who sharply pulled his hand away from the priest's arm
this time. "Go away with you!" she snapped in low, angry tones at the
intruder. "You should be ashamed of yourself! If you can't keep sober
yourself, you can at least keep your hands off the priest. I should
think you'd have more decency, when you're in such a state as this, than
to come where I am. If you've no respect for yourself, you might have
that much respect for me! And before strangers, too!

"Oh, I mustn't come where YOU are, eh?" remarked the peccant Theodore,
straightening himself with an elaborate effort. "You've bought these
woods, have you? I've got a hundred friends here, all the same, for
every one you'll ever have in your life, Red-head, and don't you forget
it."