There must have been twenty vehicles, altogether, and some of the rigs were already starting out and driving briskly away in different directions.
Mr. Hopkins was puzzled. He approached one of the white-overalled men who was loading cans of paint into a wagon and inquired:
"Who are you fellows?"
"Sign painters," answered the man, with an amused look.
"Who do you work for?"
"The Carson Advertising Sign Company of Cleveland."
"Oh, I see," replied Hopkins. "Got a big job in this neighborhood?"
"Pretty big, sir."
"Who's your foreman?"
"Smith. He's in the livery office."
Then the man climbed into his wagon and drove away, and Hopkins turned into the livery office. A thin-faced man with sharp eyes was Talking with the proprietor.
"Is this Mr. Smith?" asked Hopkins.
"Yes."
"Of the Carson Advertising Sign Company?"
"Yes."
"Well, I've got a big job for you. My name's Hopkins. I want a hundred big signs painted mighty quick."
"Sorry, sir; we've got all we can handle here for two or three weeks."
"It's got to be done quick or not at all. Can't you send for more men?"
"We've got thirty-eight on this job, and can't get any more for love or money. Had to send to Chicago for some of these."
"Rush job?"
"Yes, sir. You'll have to excuse me. I've got to get started. This is only our second day and we're pretty busy."
"Wait a minute," called the bewildered Hopkins, following Smith to his buggy. "What concern is your firm doing all this painting for?"
"A man named Merrick."
Then the foreman drove away, and Mr. Hopkins was left greatly puzzled.
"Merrick – Merrick!" he repeated. "I don't remember any big advertiser by that name. It must be some new concern. Anyhow, it all helps in my fight against Forbes."
He again returned to the livery office and asked for a rig.
"Everything out, Mr. Hopkins. I've hired everything to be had in town for this sign-painting gang."
But Mr. Hopkins was not to be balked. As long as these sign-painters were doing missionary work for his cause among the farmers, he decided to drive over to Fairview and see the party leaders in that important town. So he went back to Dr. Squiers's house and borrowed the Doctor's horse and buggy.
He drove along the turnpike for a time in silence. Then it struck him that there was a peculiar air of neatness about the places he passed. The barns and fences all seemed newly painted, and he remembered that he hadn't seen an advertising sign since he left town.
A mile farther on he came upon a gang of the sign painters, who with their huge brushes were rapidly painting the entire length of a weather-worn fence with white paint.
Mr. Hopkins reined in and watched them for a few moments.
"You sign-painters don't seem to be getting any signs started," he observed.
"No," replied one of the men, laughing. "This is a peculiar job for our firm to tackle. We've made a contract to paint out every sign in the district."
"Paint 'em out!"
"Yes, cover them up with new paint, and get rid of them."
"But how about the advertisers? Don't they own the spaces now?"
"They did; but they've all been bought up. John Merrick owns the spaces now, and we're working for John Merrick."
"Who's he?"
"Some friend of Mr. Forbes, up at Elmhurst."
Mr. Hopkins was not a profane man, but he said a naughty word. And then he cut his horse so fiercely with the whip that the poor beast gave a neigh of terror, and started down the road at a gallop.
CHAPTER IX
OL' WILL ROGERS
Beth had her folding table out in the rose garden where Kenneth was working at his easel, and while the boy painted she wrote her campaign letters and "editorials."
At first Ken had resented the management of his campaign by his three girl friends; but soon he was grateful for their assistance and proud of their talents. It was at their own request that he refrained from any active work himself, merely appearing at the meetings they planned, where he made his speeches and impressed his hearers with his earnestness. He was really an excellent speaker, and his youth and enthusiasm counted much in his favor.
He protested mildly when Louise invited the Women's Political Club to meet at Elmhurst on Thursday afternoon, but Mr. Watson assured him that this was an important play for popularity, so he promised to meet them. Tables were to be spread upon the lawn, for the late October weather was mild and delightful, and Louise planned to feed the women in a way that they would long remember.
Patsy had charge of the towns and Louise of the country districts, but Beth often aided Louise, who had a great deal of territory to cover.
The automobiles Uncle John had ordered sent down were a great assistance to the girls, and enabled them to cover twice as much territory in a day as would have been done with horses.
But, although they worked so tirelessly and earnestly, it was not all plain sailing with the girl campaigners. Yet though they met with many rebuffs, they met very little downright impertinence. Twice Louise was asked to leave a house where she had attempted to make a proselyte, and once a dog was set upon Beth by an irate farmer, who resented her automobile as much as he did her mission. As for Patsy, she was often told in the towns that "a young girl ought to be in better business than mixing up in politics," and she was sensitive enough once or twice to cry over these reproaches when alone in her chamber. But she maintained a cheerful front; and, in truth, all the girls enjoyed their work immensely.
While Beth and Kenneth were in the garden this sunny afternoon James came to say that a man wanted to see "one of the politics young ladies."
"Shall we send him about his business, Beth?" asked the boy.