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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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Jenny stared at the editor and then laughed. “Why, that couldn’t be! I’m a woman. Didn’t you notice?”

Raymond Dent chewed his lower lip, and his eyelids narrowed as he studied her. “You know how many women vote in this county? You’d get every one of those votes and lots of the men too.”

“Well, I would like to see Max Conroy and his goons out of office.”

“Be careful, Jenny,” Lewis said, winking at her. “Mr. Dent here is a persuasive man. I’ve read his editorials. I’m glad to know you, sir. I’m Lewis Winslow.”

“I’m real happy to meet you, Mr. Winslow. I know your record. We’re glad to have you in the community.” He stared at Jenny and said, “I never thought I’d recommend a woman to run, but I’d be willin’ to vote for you myself, Miss Jenny, if you’d do it.”

Luke Dixon had come up to listen to the conversation, Noah looming behind him, and he said now, “You know, Jenny, it could work. The Lord knows this county needs more honest law.”

“I don’t know anything about legal things, Luke.”

“I do. I could teach you.”

Jenny laughed. It was a joke to her. “All right. I’ll be the sheriff, and you can be the power behind the throne.”

Raymond Dent stared at her, nodded, and said, “Good to meet you both.”

Jenny said, “That’s the silliest thing I ever heard of. No one would vote for a woman Yankee for sheriff of this county!”

****

Jenny stared at the paper in disbelief. “I can’t believe this!” she cried. Luke Dixon had brought her a fresh copy of
The Record,
and the lead story said blatantly, “A New Candidate For Sheriff.” She shook her head as she read the story, which stated that she would be a candidate for the office of sheriff in the coming election.

“This is crazy!”

“I don’t think it is,” Luke said. “Sit down. I want to talk to you.”

The conversation that followed was long and sometimes heated. Jenny had thought at first it was just a joke, but the editor of
The Record
did not think so. He had gone to great lengths to explain how experience was not as important as honesty, and how he was violently opposed to Max Conroy. He pointed out that one good man had started to run but had been forced out by threats of physical violence.

Finally Jenny said, “I won’t do it, and that’s all there is to it. It’s silly.”

Luke stared at her and said, “I think it’s the only chance this county’s got. I know you don’t know anything about being a sheriff, but you could hire good men. What we need is somebody that’s honest. Honesty is more important than packing a big gun. We’ve found that out the hard way. Think about it, will you, Jenny?”

“No, I won’t. It’s ridiculous.”

****

Dixon opened the door to his office and was nearly bowled over as Jenny came storming in. Her eyes were blazing, and she said, “Did you mean everything you said about my running for sheriff?”

“Why, sure I did. What’s wrong?”

Jenny turned to him. Her lips were twitching, and he could
see that she was terribly disturbed. “What is it, Jenny?” he said quickly.

“Somebody burned a cross out in front of our house last night. There were hooded riders out there, and they were shouting, ‘You won’t live if you run for sheriff, woman.’ ”

“The Klan. I thought they had sort of faded away,” Dixon said, his lips growing thin. He studied the young woman in front of him and said, “I’m sorry this had to happen. It’s a bad part of the world down here. It’s going away slowly, but it’s still with us.”

Jenny had not slept a wink. She turned now, and her face was lined with fatigue. “I’m going to run for sheriff, Luke, if you’ll help me.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? Those clansmen can play pretty rough.”

“I think it’s what God would have me do. Maybe I can help people like Noah.”

“There are plenty like him around, and not all of them are black. Look, Jenny, this county’s going down the drain. There’s some big tie-in between racketeers in the North wanting bootleg liquor and local enforcement officers, and those people play for keeps. You could be putting your life on the line.”

“I’ll do it if you’ll help me.”

Luke Dixon felt an admiration for Jennifer Winslow stronger than he had for any woman he had ever met. “All right, Jenny, we’ll do it. Your slogan will be, ‘A shining badge. We’ll get rid of those tarnished badges and start all over again!’ ”

CHAPTER SIX

Campaign

Luke Dixon took his eyes off the road long enough to turn to his right and study his passenger. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched Jenny staring straight ahead, her lips moving. She was, he knew, rehearsing her speech, and suddenly he reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about your speech. It’ll be great.”

Startled out of her own little world, Jenny turned and stared at Dixon. He had his left hand loosely on the steering wheel, and his right was squeezing her shoulder. They had been on a total of three dates, and she had grown very fond of the blond-haired lawyer. At this moment, however, she was not thinking of dates but of arriving at the dedication of the George Paxton Bridge. It was to be her first political speech, and she had slept hardly a wink the previous night. Now, in the late afternoon with the sun going down, she suddenly cried out, “Luke, we must have all lost our minds! There’s no way I could ever be elected even as a . . . a
dogcatcher
in this county!”

Luke dodged a pothole skillfully and let his hand remain resting on her shoulder. “You’re going to do just fine, and you look nice too.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I sure do. That dress has character.”

The dedication of a bridge was one of the social events that people in the county loved. The Depression offered few free recreations, and at an event such as this there was sure
to be a crowd. There would be free food, soft drinks, ice cream—and a great many political speeches. Looking down at her outfit, Jenny shook her head. “I don’t know whether this is the right thing to wear or not. It looks too . . . too feminine for a politician.”

The dress she had chosen was not new. She had worn it back in New York, and it did seem a little dressy. It was a black dress of crepe de chine, and along the bottom of the skirt were two rows of pleated flounces, and she had chosen to wear beige stockings and a pair of black sandals. She had a single row of pearls, artificial of course, around her neck, and a black felt hat with a bright ribbon around the edge. She grinned ruefully. “None of the other speakers will be wearing a dress like this. I think I should have worn something more mannish.”

“There’ll be plenty of men there, but you’re a woman and a good-looking one and there’s no getting around it.” Luke laughed and patted her shoulder in an assuring fashion. “It’s too late to uglify you. Sorry about that.”

Jenny felt a rush of affection for Luke. She reached up and pressed his hand. “You got me into all this. Now you’re going to have to get me out.”

Luke was conscious of the warmth of her hand on his, and for a moment wondered where his relationship with her was going. At the age of thirty he had never been married, although he had had plenty of chances. The mothers of the county had driven themselves into a frenzy trying to get him to propose to one of their daughters, but Luke was struggling to get his fledgling practice off the ground. He knew Jenny was nervous, and he set out to reassure her.

“Just look at all that’s been done. Look at the money we’ve raised. In times like these it’s almost impossible, but it’s come in. Some of it in nickels and dimes from schoolchildren, some of it in old crumpled dollar bills, but it has come. And look at the churches. I think every church in this county, including
the Catholic church, has gotten behind you. They know what will happen if Conroy gets elected.”

“That has been good, hasn’t it?” As a matter of fact, this was not Jenny’s first political speech. She had begun at Luke’s advice by going to the pastor of every church in the county, from Pentecost to Episcopalian, asking for their support. Almost without exception, the pastors had been supportive. She had been emboldened to ask them for help, and now she said, “The Presbyterian church is paying for the barbecue at this meeting. I thought that was nice of them, since I’m not a Presbyterian.”

“It was nice, and you can count on the good pastors in this county. I think what you ought to do next is go persuade every one of them to preach a sermon on good, honest government.”

“Oh no, I’m not telling preachers what to preach.”

“I guess not,” Luke said thoughtfully. “But you don’t really have to tell them. The church folks are stirred up. You’ll carry ninety percent of them, I think. The black folks around here are most anxious to see you get elected too. Noah and his family, I think, have been working full-time handing out leaflets and putting up posters. They want to see someone in place who can help them for a change. This election has been good for this county.”

Jenny felt a warm glow of satisfaction. “That has been good,” she murmured again. “And it was good of Mr. Dent to do all of our printing for nothing.”

“I think Dent would mortgage
The Record
and his own house too. He hates crookedness in government, and he sees you as the only chance for some honest administration.”

“I brought a lot of leaflets to hand out, but I suppose all the politicians will be handing them out.”

“You can bet on that.” A rueful expression crossed Luke’s face. “There’s big money behind Conroy. It’s hard to find a telephone pole without his ugly face on it. They spent hundreds of dollars on advertising.”

The thought intimidated Jenny, and she sat there looking out at the fields as they sped down the highway. Finally she turned back to Luke and said, “It’ll have to be the Lord that gets me into office. There’s no way it can happen otherwise.”

“That’s probably what David said when he went out to face Goliath. All he had were five smooth stones.”

“That’s right, isn’t it?” Jenny smiled. She trusted Luke Dixon, who was a fervent Christian and knew the Bible well. “And there was Gideon, who had only a handful of soldiers. He managed pretty well against the Midianites, didn’t he?”

“Sure. We’ve got the Lord on our side. How can we lose?”

They chatted as Luke sped down the road, noticing all the traffic was headed toward the bridge. When they finally reached the George Paxton Bridge, the traffic grew heavier. Finally they had to pull off the road, and Luke remarked, “It’s still half a mile to the bridge. This’ll be the biggest crowd in the county except for the state fair. Can you walk it?”

“Yes, of course. Let me get these leaflets.”

The two got out of the car and began walking. Jenny was amazed at how many people greeted her with a smile, and every time someone did, she shook their hand and gave them a flier stating her policy. She also gave them a smile and said, “I’d appreciate your vote next week.”

Almost all of them responded well, although a few Conroy voters gave her hard looks and a few even harder words. They passed a group that all stared at her. There were three men wearing overalls and straw hats and one provocatively dressed young woman.

“Those are the Skinners,” Luke said. “They were the ones that got your brother involved in moonshining.”

Jenny stiffened. She had seen the Skinners at the trial and knew that Dora had succeeded in bringing her brother down. Joshua had survived, but he had spent a month in the penitentiary for selling illegal liquor. Now a stubborn look came to her, and before Luke could stop her, she walked right up to the big man who hadn’t shaved recently, whom she knew
to be the leader, Simon Skinner. “Hello, Mr. Skinner, how are you?” She put out her hand, and the man stared at her. Awkwardly he took her hand, and she smiled at him. “I’d appreciate your vote.”

“I ain’t votin’ for no woman. It ain’t fittin’.”

Jenny did not lose her smile. She nodded to the other two sons of Skinner, then turned to Dora and stared at her. Dora Skinner was wearing a tight, revealing dress. She laughed and said, “How’s Joshua getting along? When you write him, tell him I’m waiting for him to come back.”

“You haven’t heard? He’s married now. He married a fine woman and is doing well.”

“Well, he was always a bit too saintly for me anyway,” Dora said, laughing. Then she turned her head to one side. “Whatever made you think you could be sheriff of this county? You’re not tough enough for that.”

“I think the Lord will help me,” Jenny said quietly.

Dora’s face changed, and her lip curled up. “You’d better have God on your side, ’cause you’re gonna need ’im. Come on, Pa, let’s go.”

The Skinners hurried down the highway, and Luke said, “You did just fine.” His smile was wide, and he said, “You put her in her place and old man Skinner too. They’re into bootlegging up to their ears. You’ll have to handle them when you’re the sheriff.”

The thought of “handling” people such as the Skinners frightened Jenny. She did not say anything, but Luke saw that she had been intimidated by the meeting. “They’re a rough crowd, and there are others like them, but as you told them, the Lord’s on our side. Come on. You’re doing fine.”

They reached the bridge, which was crowded, and a country band was already playing, sending lively music up over the crowd with guitars and mandolins and a big bass fiddle. There was an area for dancing too, but only a few couples were doing so. Most people were circulating along the tables that were piled high with food. Behind each table was a banner
proclaiming the generosity of the most obvious donor, Max Conroy.

“Conroy had everything catered, and that’s not very smart. Look at our table,” Luke said proudly.

A long line was in front of the table marked “Jennifer Winslow, An Honest Sheriff.” Beneath it, Hank and several helpers were passing out barbecue as fast as they could. One of the servers was Noah and another was his sister Emma.

They were placing barbecue sandwiches and ribs on paper plates while another was scooping out fried potatoes. Jenny walked up at once and spoke to the owner of the barbecue place. “Are the ribs going to hold out, Hank?”

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