too weak even for his contempt. Cool, d

Nchise their former masters, ratify a new constitution, and elect a
legislature to do their will. Old Aleck was a candidate for the
House, chief poll-holder, and seemed to be in charge of the movements
of the voters outside the booth as well as inside.

He appeared to be omnipresent, and his self-importance was a sight
Phil
had never dreamed. He could not keep his eyes off him. "By George,
Cameron,
he's a wonder!" he laughed. Aleck had suppressed as far as possible
the story of the painted stakes and the deed, after sending out
warnings to the brethren to beware of two enticing strangers. The
surveyors had reaped a rich harvest and passed
on. Aleck made up his mind to go to Columbia, make the laws himself,
and never again trust a white man from the North or

South. The agent of the Freedman's Bureau at Piedmont tried to choke
him off the ticket. The League backed him to a man. He could neither
read nor write, but before he took to whiskey he had made a specialty
of revival exhortation, and his mouth was the most effective

thing about him. In this campaign he was an orator of no mean powers.
He knew what he wanted, and he

knew what his people wanted, and he put the thing in words so plain
that a wayfaring man, though a fool, couldn't make any
mistake about

it. As he bustled past, forming
a batta