They're the ones that count，after all；not the town people.See here，Doc，I had an idea something might happen，andso I arranged witha my breakfast food company to let me paint a hundred signs in this neighborhood.A hundred，mind you！And that means a big laugh on Forbes，and the good will of the farmers who sell their spaces，and not a cent out of my pocket.How's that for a checkmateb？""That's fine，"replied Dr.Squiers."There's been considerable talk about this sign business，and I'm told that at the meeting last night one of the girls made a speech about it，and said the farmers were being converted，and were now standing out forc clean fences and barns.""That's all humbugd！""I think so，myself.These people are like a ？ock of sheep.Get them started a certain way and you can't head them off，"observed the dentist.
"Then we must start them our way，"declared Hopkins.
"I've got the order for these signs in my pocket，and I'll have 'em painted all over the district in a week.Keep your eyes open，Doc.If we've got to fight we won't shirke it；but I don't look for much trouble from a parcel of girls."Mr.Hopkins was quite cheerful by this time，for he hadthought out the situation and his "？ghting blood was up，"as he expressed it.
He walked away whistling softly to himself and decidedthat he would go over to the livery stable，get a horse and buggy，drive out into the country，and spend the day talking with the farmers.
But when he turned the corner into the side street where the livery was located he was astonished to find a row of horses and wagons lining each side of the street，and in each vehicle two men in white jumpers and overalls.The men were in charge of huge cans of paints，assorted brushes，ladders，scaffolds and other paraphernaliaa.
There must have been twenty vehicles，altogether，andsome of the rigs were already starting out and driving briskly away in different directions.
Mr.Hopkins was puzzled.He approached one of the white—overalled men who was loading cans of paint into a wagon and inquired：
"Who are you fellows？"
"Sign painters，"answered the man，with an amused look."Who do you work for？""The Carson Advertising Sign Company of Cleveland.""Oh，I see，"replied Hopkins."Got a big job in thisneighborhood？""Pretty big，sir.""Who's your foremanb？""Smith.He's in the livery of？ce."Then the man climbed into his wagon and drove away，and Hopkins turned into the livery office.A thin—faced man with sharp eyes was talking with the proprietor.
"Is this Mr.Smith？"asked Hopkins.
"Yes."
"Of the Carson Advertising Sign Company？""Yes.""Well，I've got a big job for you.My name's Hopkins.Iwant a hundred big signs painted mighty quick.""Sorry，sir；we've got all we can handle here for two or three weeks.""It's got to be done quick or not at all.Can't you send for more men？""We've got thirty—eight on this job，and can't get any more for love or moneya.Had to send to Chicago for some of these.""Rush job？""Yes，sir.You'll have to excuse me.I've got to get started.This is only our second day and we're pretty busy.""Wait a minute，"called the bewildered Hopkins，following Smith to his buggy."What concern is your ？rm doing all this painting for？""A man named Merrick."Then the foreman drove away，and Mr.Hopkins was left greatly puzzled.
"Merrick—Merrick！"he repeated."I don't remember anybig advertiser by that name.It must be some new concern.
Anyhow，it all helps in my ？ght against Forbes."He again returned to the livery of？ce and asked for a rig."Everything out，Mr.Hopkins.I've hired everything to behad in town for this sign—painting gang."But Mr.Hopkins was not to be balkeda.As long as these sign—painters were doing missionary work for his cause among the farmers，he decided to drive over to Fairview and see the party leaders in that important town.So he went back to Dr.Squiers's house and borrowed the Doctor's horse and buggy.
He drove along the turnpikeb for a time in silence.Then it struck him that there was a peculiar air of neatness about the places he passed.The barns and fences all seemed newly painted，and he remembered that he hadn't seen an advertising sign since he left town.
A mile farther on he came upon a gang of the sign painters，who with their huge brushes were rapidly painting the entire length of a weather—worn fence with white paint.
Mr.Hopkins reined in and watched them for a few moments.
"You sign—painters don't seem to be getting any signs started，"he observed.
"No，"replied one of the men，laughing."This is a peculiar job for our firm to tackle.We've made a contract to paint out every sign in the district.""Paint 'em out！""Yes，cover them up with new paint，and get rid of them.""But how about the advertisers？Don't they own thespaces now？""They did；but they've all been bought up.John Merrick owns the spaces now，and we're working for John Merrick.""Who's he？""Some friend of Mr.Forbes，up at Elmhurst."Mr.Hopkins was not a profanea man，but he said a naughtyb word.And then he cut his horse so ？ercely with the whip that the poor beast gave a neighc of terror，and started down the road at a gallopd.
