In power he's been desperately manufacturing Klan outrage stories

where none exist, telling of loyal Republicans being hung up by the

thumbs and honest darkies lynched for rape. But he's shooting at a

nonexistent target and he knows it. Thank you for your

apprehensions, but there hasn't been an active Klan since shortly

after I stopped being a Scallawag and became an humble Democrat."

Most of what he said about Governor Bullock went in one ear and out

the other for her mind was mainly occupied with relief that there

was no Klan any longer. Rhett would not be killed as Frank was

killed; she wouldn't lose her store or his money. But one word of

his conversation swam to the top of her mind. He had said "we,"

linking himself naturally with those he had once called the "Old

Guard."

"Rhett," she asked suddenly, "did you have anything to do with the

breaking up of the Klan?"

He gave her a long look and his eyes began to dance.

"My love, I did. Ashley Wilkes and I are mainly responsible."

"Ashley--and you?"

"Yes, platitudinously but truly, politics make strange bedfellows.

Neither Ashley nor I cared much for each other as bedfellows but--

Ashley never believed in the Klan because he's against violence of

any sort. And I never believed in it because it's damned

foolishness and not the way to get what we want. It's the one way

to keep the Yankees on our necks till Kingdom Come. And between

Ashley and me, we convinced the hot heads that watching, waiting

and working would get us further than nightshirts and fiery

crosses."

"You don't mean the boys actually took your advice when you--"

"When I was a speculator? A Scallawag? A consorter with Yankees?

You forget, Mrs. Butler, that I am now a Democrat in good standing,

devoted to my last drop of blood to recovering our beloved state

from the hands of her ravishers! My advice was good advice and

they took it. My advice in other political matters is equally

good. We have a Democratic majority in the legislature now,

haven't we? And soon, my love, we will have some of our good

Republican friends behind the bars. They are a bit too rapacious

these days, a bit too open."

"You'd help put them in jail? Why, they were your friends! They

let you in on that railroad-bond business that you made thousands

out of!"

Rhett grinned suddenly, his old mocking grin.

"Oh, I bear them no ill will. But I'm on the other side now and if

I can assist in any way in putting them where they belong, I'll do

it. And how that will redound to my credit! I know just enough

about the inside of some of these deals to be very valuable when

the legislature starts digging into them--and that won't be far

off, from the way things look now. They're going to investigate

the governor, too, and they'll put him in jail if they can. Better

tell your good friends the Gelerts and the Hundons to be ready to

leave town on a minute's notice, because if they can nab the

governor, they'll nab them too."

For too many years Scarlett had seen the Republicans, backed up by

the force of the Yankee Army, in power in Georgia to believe

Rhett's light words. The governor was too strongly entrenched for

any legislature to do anything to him, much less put him in jail.

"How you do run on," she observed.

"If he isn't put in jail, at least he won't be reelected. We're

going to have a Democratic governor next time, for a change."

"And I suppose you'll have something to do with it?" she questioned

sarcastically.

"My pet, I will. I am having something to do with it now. That's

why I stay out so late at nights. I'm working harder than I ever

worked with a shovel in the gold rush, trying to help get the

election organized. And--I know this will hurt you, Mrs. Butler,

but I am contributing plenty of money to the organization, too. Do

you remember telling me, years ago, in Frank's store, that it was

dishonest for me to keep the Confederate gold? At last I've come

to agree with you and the Confederate gold is being spent to get

the Confederates back into power."

"You're pouring money down a rat hole!"

"What! You call the Democratic party a rat hole?" His eyes mocked

her and then were quiet, expressionless. "It doesn't matter a damn

to me who wins this election. What does matter is that everyone

knows I've worked for it and that I've spent money on it. And

that'll be remembered in Bonnie's favor in years to come."

"I was almost afraid from your pious talk that you'd had a change

of heart, but I see you've got no more sincerity about the

Democrats than about anything else."

"Not a change of heart at all. Merely a change of hide. You might

possibly sponge the spots off a leopard but he'd remain a leopard,

just the same."

Bonnie, awakened by the sound of voices in the hall, called sleepily

but imperiously: "Daddy!" and Rhett started past Scarlett.

"Rhett, wait a minute. There's something else I want to tell you.

You must stop taking Bonnie around with you in the afternoons to

political meetings. It just doesn't look well. The idea of a

little girl at such places! And it makes you look so silly. I

never dreamed that you took her until Uncle Henry mentioned it, as

though he thought I knew and--"

He swung round on her and his face was hard.

"How can you read wrong in a little girl sitting on her father's

lap while he talks to friends? You may think it looks silly but it