Carnac seemed everywhere, on every corner, in every street, at every polling booth; he laid his trowel against every brick in the wall.

Carnac was not as confident as he seemed, but he was nearing the end of the trail; and his feet were free and his head clear.

One good thing had happened.
The girl who could do him great harm was not in evidence, and it was too late to spoil his chances now, even if she came.

What gave him greatest hope was the look on Junia's face as he passed her.

It was the sign of the conqueror--something he could not under stand.