"Mr.Peyton votes for Mr.Ludwell Cary!" cried the sheriff.
The Federalists applauded, the Republicans groaned, the tallymen took note, and Cary bowed his thanks.

"Mr.Peyton, your very humble servant! Mount Eagle and Greenwood are old comrades-at-arms!" "I'll kill _your_ vote, Craven Peyton!" came a voice.

"I vote, Mr.
Sheriff, for Lewis Rand!" "Ludwell Cary!" cried another, "and there's a killer killed, Dick Carr!" "I'll draw a bead on you, Gentry!" put in a third.

"The best shot in the county, Mr.Sheriff, and that's Lewis Rand!" "Lewis Rand stands ten ahead!" cried a committee-man; and the sheriff, "Gentlemen, gentlemen! order at the polls!" A small, wizened man, middle-aged and elaborately dressed in much ancient and tarnished finery, came bowing through the crowd.

A curled wig shadowed a narrow face, and lace ruffles fell over long-fingered hands, yellow as old ivory.