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“Can’t he wiggle out?” asked Uncle John.

“Out of what?”

“His trouble.”

“It seems not. Listen—”

“Oh, tell us about it, lassie,” said the Major. “If I judge right there’s some sixty pages in that epistle. Don’t bother to read it again.”

“But every word is important,” declared Patsy, turning the letter over, “—except the last page,” with a swift flush.

Uncle John laughed. His shrewd old eyes saw everything.

“Then read us the last page, my dear.”

“I’ll tell you about it,” said Patsy, quickly. “It’s this way, you see. Kenneth has gone into politics!”

“More power to his elbow!” exclaimed the Major.

“I can’t imagine it in Kenneth,” said Uncle John, soberly. “What’s he in for?”

“For—for—let’s see. Oh, here it is. For member of the House of Representatives from the Eighth District.”

“He’s flying high, for a fledgling,” observed the Major. “But Kenneth’s a bright lad and a big gun in his county. He’ll win, hands down.”

Patsy shook her head.

“He’s afraid not,” she said, “and it’s worrying him to death. He doesn’t like to be beaten, and that’s what’s troubling him.”