Harlan was occupied with his own thoughts and shook his head.

"I was _thinking_ she'd been away at school whenever you've been down here with me. Beautiful girl, my boy. Brains, too. Polish up your thoughts. These college girls are pretty bright, you know."

"I don't think she will notice whether I've got any thoughts or not,"

replied the young man, sourly. "She won't pay much attention to a woodsman--not that kind of a girl."

"What kind of a girl?"

"One that's full of society notions and college airs. I know the kind.

Unless a fellow has wasted about half his life in dancing and loafing around summer resorts they treat him as though he were a cross between an Eskimo and a Fiji. Life is too short to play poodle for girls of that sort."

"Well, you are certainly on the mourners' bench to-day, front row and an end seat," said the old man, disgustedly. "You'd better go up and take a nap till breakfast-time, and use sleep, soap, a razor, and common sense and smooth yourself off. I reckon I haven't got you out of those woods any too quick."

Only the earliest birds of the hostelry roost were about the big house at that hour. The new arrivals dodged scrub-women and sweepers in the office and on the stairs, and went to their rooms. The Duke, leaving his grandson at his bedroom door, suggested a bit stiffly that he would "call around about eight o'clock and open the den and lead him down to a little raw meat, unless he smoothed up his manners and his appet.i.te in the mean time."

CHAPTER XIII

THE DUKE'S DOUBLE CAMPAIGN

Presson came in with the Duke at eight o'clock, bringing cordial morning greetings to Harlan's room.

The old man found his grandson much improved, both in spirits and garb.

In his fresh, cool, summer gray, erect, stalwart, and clear-eyed, he won a grunt of approval from his mentor.

"There's nothing like being young, Luke! I was just telling you that the boy was getting into the dumps--bound to study all the seams before he put the coat on. But the world looks better now, doesn't it, son?"

"It's the fit of the coat that counts in politics," observed the chairman, sagely. "And the one that was built last night fits like the paper on the wall. Don't bother with the seams, Harlan. The lining covers 'em."

"Presson likes the frame-up, Harlan," said the Duke, smiling broadly.

"He isn't even jealous because I thought of it first."

"Who else could have pulled it off as you have, Thelismer? It would take more than straight politics to get Vard Waymouth out of his den. And I could have offered only politics."

With an arm about each he pushed them to the door, saying that his wife and daughter were waiting below. When Harlan turned from his respectful greeting of the mother, whom he knew, he found Miss Presson looking at him with frank and smiling interest. He had heard vague reports that Madeleine Presson had blossomed into beautiful womanhood since he had seen her. He had been prepared to meet a rather vain and pampered young lady, conscious of her charms and attainments. He a.s.sumed a bit of reserve as armor for his sensitiveness. But this att.i.tude responded so ill to her good-humored ease in renewing their acquaintanceship that he was momentarily embarra.s.sed, remembering what he had said to his grandfather a few hours before.

"I think I have a most distinct recollection of Mr. Harlan Thornton.

When I was ten years old you brought me some lumps of spruce-gum in a birch-bark box and I declined it, saying that young ladies did not chew gum. But I took it when you looked so sad, and I carried it away to boarding-school, and I found out that young ladies do chew gum--when no one is watching them. That gift made me very popular, sir, and now I thank you. I fear I did not thank you then."

"It's worth waiting all this time to hear you say that. I'm glad the gift found appreciation, for I culled the winter pickings of a whole logging crew for those red nuggets. I've been so distrustful of my good taste ever since that I've never dared to give anything to a young lady."

"I'm afraid you didn't realize what you were doing when you snubbed him," put in the Duke. "I haven't been able to get him out of the woods since--till now, and I've had to bring him almost by main force."

The carriage was at the door. The State chairman led the way to it. He had a home for his family apart from the big hotel, the mammoth hostelry of the State--one of his many business ventures.

"We are on our way home from our morning ride--it's the real jolly part of the June day, the two hours before breakfast," explained the girl, as they went down the steps. "When we called here for father you may imagine how delighted we were to find your grandfather. I know you understand, Mr. Harlan Thornton, what a dear old man your grandfather is!"

"He has been mother, father, brother, and sister and best friend--all those to me. He has seemed to have some of the elements of all.

"I know of the good things he has done, and how ungrateful some of the folks are he has helped. Your grandfather would be a real saint if it were not for politics. You know we folks at the State capital hear politics talked all the time. I suppose my good father has the same wicked things said about him--though, of course, I don't hear them."

"And I've been too deep in the woods to hear."

Presson ushered his wife and the young people into the carriage.

"Thelismer and I would rather walk," he said. "We have some more matters to talk over." And he sent them away.

Harlan took his seat opposite the ladies, and now, in this close proximity, he realized how charming the young girl was. From the close braids of her brown hair to the tips of her bronze shoes she was womanly grace and refinement personified. There was a cordial frankness in her tone and eyes that attracted him, and put him at his ease. Yet there was no hint of coquetry. He liked her at once and instinctively, because somehow she seemed to meet him on a manly plane of good-fellowship--and yet she was so thoroughly and deliciously feminine. There was just a bit of a drawl in her voice, a suggestion of jocoseness, continual appreciation of the humor of life and living. And her laugh was an inspiration.

He was a little surprised at himself when he found that he was chatting with her so easily. Later, when he reflected, he understood. She had almost a masculine breadth of view in addition to her culture. In that first day of their meeting she gave voice to some of his own unexpressed views regarding the trend of the times in public matters. She apologized, half-humorously. "But as I said to you a while ago, we hear politics talked much at the State capital."

Following the after-breakfast chat, he walked back to the hotel with his grandfather.

"By-the-way, I didn't lie to you any about Luke's girl, did I?" remarked the old man, casually, and as though the matter had occurred to him in default of better topic. "But she's too advanced in her ideas for a woman. She'll be suffragette-ing it next."

When Harlan began to defend the right of women to interest themselves in the larger affairs, only a twinkle in the Duke's eye betrayed his amus.e.m.e.nt. If Harlan, in his first quick suspicions, had secretly accused his grandfather of planning a matrimonial campaign in conjunction with his political one, he was now ashamed of those suspicions, for they concerned Madeleine Presson. Having met her, he realized that if he should dare to connect her in his thoughts with anything that his grandfather might be scheming he was making of himself a very presumptuous and silly a.s.s. Now that he had seen her, now when he was spending days of waiting at the State capital and seeing her frequently, he found that Madeleine Presson's personality eliminated possible matchmakers. He felt very humble in her presence--and still ashamed. He had never taken stock of his own deficiencies very particularly. His environment had not prompted it. He had been superior to the men he had ruled. He realized now that the little amenities of life which make for poise and ease must be lived, not simply learned.

In taking thought lest he err he found himself proceeding awkwardly. His training in the past had led him to set work and achievement ahead of all the rest. He understood now that those essentials in a life that is to yield the most appear better as superstructure. Mere achievement may attract respect. Erected on culture, it wins still more. Respect feeds only one appet.i.te of ambition. True ambition is hungry for affection and friends, placing lovers ahead of sycophants. And the finer qualities, the softer virtues, attract more surely than mere fame.

These and similar reflections came to young Thornton rather incoherently. It was not that he desired the affection or the admiration of Madeleine Presson. But this young woman represented for him a new phase of the world he was meeting in its broader sense--and he was ambitious with the zest of youth. Often he was obliged to spur himself out of diffidence in her serene presence. At other times she put him at his ease with a tact which made him realize his own shortcomings. And under those circ.u.mstances ambition droops like a plant in a drought.

He had time to think during the two weeks he was at the State capital waiting for the big convention. His grandfather made no demands upon him.

Thelismer Thornton had quietly appointed himself the dominant figure in the back room at State headquarters. Under his big hand all the strings met. Even Luke Presson took subordinate post as a lieutenant.

The Duke of Fort Canibas _knew_ that he was in control.

The Hon. David Everett _believed_ that _he_ was. Thornton blandly cultivated that belief in Everett. When Everett talked he listened. When Everett counselled he agreed. He invited all the confidence of that gentleman; he made sure that "the logical candidate" used him as repository of all his political secrets; he was careful to a.s.sure himself that Everett's strength was entirely in his hands and under his control--for he intended to shatter that strength so instantly, so thoroughly, that not one fragment would be left to hamper his own plans.

And yet day by day, word by word, hint by hint--his eye on the future loyalty of the Everett faction at the polls--he made the candidate understand that Arba Spinney was a man to be reckoned with--that the convention was not an open-and-shut certainty for the machine. Without realizing how it had come about, Everett found himself discussing "political exigencies." Without knowing that he had been selected as a martyr for his party, he committed himself in lofty sentiments regarding the duty of a man in a crisis. Not that he suspected that his chances were endangered. He felt that he was truly the man of destiny; he was urging other men to forget their slights and their disappointments and rally to him. But the fact remained that--thinking wholly of other men--he had committed himself, and in a way that he could be reminded of when the time came.

The Duke planted that kedge well out, to serve in the stress of weather at the polls in the fall, should Everett and his men be silly enough to confound "party exigency" with treachery.

All men are forgetful. The Duke feared that some men had forgotten the details of Gen. Varden Waymouth's notable life. The publicity bureau, obeying crafty suggestions and not understanding just what it was all about, began in the stress of that campaign to recall stories of the old days. And no man represented the old days as did Varden Waymouth, hero, scholar, and statesman. There were giants in the old days, and every machine newspaper in the State hailed General Waymouth as chief of the giants. They contrasted the present with the past. General Waymouth's picture gazed forth in stately benignity from every broadside--his life story filled the columns of newspapers and the mouths of men.

With Arba Spinney's activities Thornton was in touch at all times. More than ever before Mr. Spinney merited his t.i.tle "Fog-horn." He was striking the high places in the State, pouring language from under the mat of his mustache, warning all men off the political shoals of "the machine." From those shoals he was scooping up mud in both hands, and spattering all men and all measures. He found plenty of listeners, for protest was abroad. But the persistent defamer irritates even his friends. He offends the innate sense of patriotism and loyalty which slinks even in the breast of the rebel. The Duke noted with satisfaction the outward symptoms of Mr. Spinney's campaign; he was winning a following in those days of unrest. Through the columns of his newspapers the old politician exploited Mr. Spinney, seeing to it that he was well advertised as a man who persistently branded his own State as a den of infamy. Thus he made Spinney strong enough to play against Everett and weak enough to fall far in the estimation of men when the time came for him to fall.

And then at last, in the latter days of June, all roads led to Rome. The Republican Convention was called for the twenty-eighth, in the big hall of the State's metropolis.

On the day before, Thelismer Thornton emerged from the back room of headquarters at the State capital, and with Chairman Presson and Harlan journeyed to the scene of the conflict. Before their departure the Duke had been obliged, smilingly, to refuse a request of Mrs. Presson's.

She had asked that young Mr. Thornton be delegated as squire of dames to accompany herself and her party to the convention.

"I'm afraid you haven't realized for a week or so that the boy is in politics, Lucretia. I've let him run to pasture with a pretty long cord on him. He'll have to come in under the saddle now. We'll have one of the young beaus from the Governor's staff on the lookout for you at the hall. This fellow here"--he patted Harlan's arm--"he hasn't been broken to the society bridle yet. He was allowing to me the other day that he didn't propose to be, either."

Miss Presson had overheard.