"You can swear to your heart's content. It will do nobody any harm
but yourself," coolly replied Mr. Lyon, whom I now recognized as
the person with whom I had held several conversations during
previous visits.
"Thank you, Mr. Lyon," said Mr. Hargrove, "for this manly
interference. It is no more than I should have expected from you."
"I never suffer a young man to strike an old man," said Lyon
firmly. "Apart from that, Mr. Hargrove, there are other reasons
why your person must be free from violence where I am."
"This is a bad place for you, Lyon," said Mr. Hargrove; "and I've
said so to you a good many times." He spoke in rattier an
undertone. "Why WILL you come here?"
"It's a bad place, I know," replied Lyon, speaking out boldly,
"and we all know it. But habit, Mr. Hargrove--habit. That's the
cursed thing! If the bar-rooms were all shut up, there would be
another story to tell. Get us the Maine law, and there will be
some chance for us."
"Why don't you vote the temperance ticket?" asked Mr. Hargrove.
"Why did I? you'd better ask," said Lyon.
"I thought you voted against us."
"Not I. Ain't quite so blind to my own interest as that. And, if
the truth were known, I should not at all wonder if every man in
this room, except Slade and his son, voted on your side of the
house."
"It's a little strange, then," said Mr. Hargrove, "that with the
drinking men on our side, we failed to secure the election.
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