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And he kept strictly away from everything feminine in Tinkersfield, in spite of the fact that his good looks won him more than one glance from sparkling eyes. "He acts afraid of skirts," Henry had said to Tommy on one occasion. "He?" Tommy was scornful. "He ain't afraid of anything!" Henry knew it. "Maybe it's because you can't do much with women on fifteen a week."
And you will work better because I am gone. I mustn't be here O-liver." Jane had indeed seen straight. O-liver laid the note down on his desk and looked up at the mountain. He needed to look up. If he had looked down for a moment he would have followed Jane. And now there was no sandwich stand in Tinkersfield. But there was a good hotel. O-liver saw to that.
It was for each man to decide at this election whether Tinkersfield should have a future of darkness or of light. There were men in that crowd who squared their shoulders to meet the blows of his eloquence, who kept them squared as they made their decision to do their part in the upbuilding of Tinkersfield. Yet it was not perhaps so much the things that O-liver said as the way he said them.
And when he had brought them thus into sympathy he began with earnestness to speak of Tinkersfield. Jane, leaning forward, not missing a word, felt his magnetism. He spoke of the future of Tinkersfield. Of what must be done if it was to fulfill its destiny as a decent town. He did not mince his words.
It was Tommy who found out first about Fluffy Hair. She had never cared to have the world know of her marriage. She had felt that those who loved her on the screen would prefer her fancy free. But it was known at the studio, and some one drifting up to Tinkersfield recognized O-liver and told Tommy. Tommy for once in his life was stern. "He oughta of told Jane. Somebody's got to tell her."
The speaker paused for the effect, then proceeded with his argument. Of course they were all sinners, but they weren't hypocrites. Tillotson wasn't a hypocrite. He was a good fellow. He didn't want Tinkersfield to be a Sunday school. He wanted it to be a town. You know a town that every fellow would want to hit on Saturday night.
He wanted Tillotson to win because Tillotson's winning would strengthen his own position politically. He meant indeed that Tillotson should win. He was not particular as to methods. He said the usual things: Tinkersfield was no Sunday school; and they weren't slaves to have their liberty taken from them by a lot of impractical reformers. And Lee was that kind.
They listened in a tense silence, which broke now and then into cheers. To Jane sitting high up on the benches he was a prophet the John the Baptist of Tinkersfield. "And he's mine, he's mine!" she exulted. This fineness of spirit, the fire and flame were hers. "If I know you are there somewhere in the dark I shall pour out my soul to you " The darkness had not yet fallen, but the dusk had come.
You were light shining into the darkness of Tinkersfield. Jove, I wish I were a painter to put you on canvas as you were that night!" They had ridden down later under the stars, and as they had stood for a moment overlooking the lights of the little town O-liver had said: "I make my big speech to-morrow night to beat Tillotson. I want you to be there. Will you?
Her plan, told with much coming and going of lovely color, was this: She had read that the way to make money was to find the thing that a community lacked and supply it. Considering it seriously she had decided that in Tinkersfield there was need of good food. "There's just one horrid little eating house," she told Tommy, "when the men come in from out of town."
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