"There was a movement on inside the party to run General Waymouth as a compromise candidate. It has been talked over. I declare myself now.

I'm against it. The State Committee stands for you, Everett!"

The candidate revolved slowly on his heels in order to study the faces of all of them. He did not find much enthusiasm to back up Presson's declaration. He realized that he was in the company of those who had been plotting to shelve him, and he had the wit to understand that only their quarrel over some issue had availed to save him from being knifed.

His temper got away from him.

"You've held your nose up pretty high in this world, General Waymouth!

Do you call a trick to steal my nomination away from me at the last moment gentlemanly or decent? I've put in my time and my money and my efforts. I've made a campaign. And I've waited for this!"

"You needn't insult the General in that fashion, Dave," broke in Thornton. "Address your talk to me. I'm responsible."

"I think I'm the one that is responsible at this stage," insisted General Waymouth. "I'll talk to you, Mr. Everett, if you please. You addressed me. Any Republican in this State is ent.i.tled to seek nomination as Governor. It is a worthy and proper ambition. It is an honor that belongs to the people. It isn't a heritage to be pa.s.sed on from one bunch of politicians to another. It isn't to be bought and bartered. I realize that precedent has given you that impression. But it's a pernicious precedent. It's time to do away with it. That's why I'm here to-night, dipping into slime that I hoped never to be soiled with again. I've been frank with these other gentlemen. I'm going to be frank with you, Mr. Everett. I know you stand for The System. I don't have to tell you what that is. You propose to continue the nullification programme, bar-rooms tolerated on payment of fines, tax reform slicked over, water powers and other State resources peddled out to favorites.

It's useless to deny. We've all been in politics together too many years."

Mr. Everett did not deny. It was too intimate a gathering for that.

"This is not the way I'd like to be called to the Governor's chair of my State," went on the General, "but it's the way of politics. I've got to meet you on the politician's level, so far as securing the nomination goes. But I stand here and tell you, Mr. Everett"--he took two steps forward and stood close to the other candidate, and his voice rose--"that I can be a better Governor of this State than you--in the sort of days that are on us now. This is not egotism--it's truth. I say it because I know you and the men behind you as well as I know myself."

"It's a sneak trick, just the same!" shouted Everett.

"So are many tricks in politics--and, G.o.d help me, I'm back in politics!" returned the General. He looked them over there in the room, from face to face and eye to eye. "You cannot accuse me of vanity, self-seeking, or ambition at my age, gentlemen. I've been Governor of this State once. I didn't enjoy the experience. I'm going into this thing again simply because I believe that I can put some honesty into public affairs. This State is calling for it. And that object justifies me in what I'm doing. I am a candidate!"

"By ----!" roared Everett, furious, realizing how this candidacy threatened his hopes, "run if you want to. But I'll see to it that these delegates know how you're running--cutting under a man that's made an honest canva.s.s!" He started for the door, tossing his arms above his head--a politician beginning to run amuck.

Presson grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Don't be a lunatic, Dave," he buzzed in his ear. "If you go to advertising this around the hotel to-night you'll be giving Spinney the tip and starting Waymouth's boom for him. d.a.m.n it, you want to keep your teeth shut tight and your tongue behind them! There'll be no blabbers go out of this room--I'll see to that! I'll put a dozen members of the State Committee at work on the delegates to-night." He was walking Everett toward the door, getting him out of earshot of the others.

"Weymouth has got a platform there that sounds as though it was drawn up by the House Committee of Paradise. He's got to be licked--great Judas, he's _got_ to be licked! I've got five thousand that the liquor crowd has sent into the State for the campaign, but this is the place to use it--right here now! And it'll be used. Don't you worry, Dave! And keep your mouth shut!"

It was a colloquy that no one else in the room heard--Everett putting in suggestions as the chairman whispered hoa.r.s.ely in his ear. Harlan Thornton, looking on, guessed what it might be. Linton, at his side, ironically hinted at the possibilities of that hurried conference in the corner. Senator Pownal walked about the room, chewing his short beard and incapable of a word--for his re-election came before the next legislature, and to jump the wrong way now in the gubernatorial matter was political suicide.

Thelismer Thornton remained in his place on the corner of the table, staring reflectively at General Waymouth.

Presson ended his whispered exhortations with a rather savage reference to the manner in which the Duke had involved the campaign. Everett shot a baleful glance at the man who had so cold-bloodedly planned his undoing.

"Look here, Thornton," he called out, as he started for the door, "you and I will have our reckoning later. We use old horses for fox bait up our way, too, but we always make sure that the horses are dead first."

He went out and slammed the door.

Thornton did not turn his head. He kept his eyes on Waymouth.

"Vard," he said, "I reckon I haven't been keeping my political charts up to date. I had you down as a peninsula, jutting out _some_ from the Republican party, but still hitched on to it. I find you're an island, standing all by yourself, and with pretty rocky sh.o.r.es."

"Perhaps so," admitted the General.

"This has been a sort of a heart-to-heart meeting here to-night. In the general honesty I'll be honest myself. I can't support you."

"Then you lack honesty."

"No, but your scheme of honesty takes you right into the king-row of the ramrodders, and I can't train with the bunch that will flock to you.

Your theory is good--but the _practice_ will break your heart just as sure as G.o.d hasn't made humans perfect! You'll be up against it! You're going to test man to the limit of his professions--and it isn't a safe operation, if you want to come out with any of your ideals left unsmashed. If you start on that road you'll have to travel it without me."

"Well, there's a little common sense left in the Republican party,"

snapped Presson. "General Waymouth, you've had considerable many honors in your life, and the party gave 'em to you. That calls for some grat.i.tude. You can show it by keeping your hands off this thing."

"That would have been an argument once, when I was a wheel-horse with my political blinders on; it has been an argument that has kept a good many decent men from doing their duty. It will not work with me now." He put his folded paper into his pocket, and reached and took the other doc.u.ment that he had handed to Wasgatt earlier in the evening. "I'll not disfigure the perfect structure of your platform now, Presson, but I'll see how these sound from the floor of the convention, in spite of your resolutions to shut off free speech! Good-night, gentlemen." He turned to leave, still serene with the poise of one who has experienced all and is prepared for all. "I used to have pretty good luck playing a lone hand in our old card-playing days, Thelismer. I'll see what I can do in politics."

"General Waymouth, have you a few moments to give me if I come to your room now?" inquired Harlan Thornton. "I want to offer my services!"

"I'll join the party too, if I may!" suggested Linton.

Colonel Wadsworth was twisting his imperial with one hand and fingering his Loyal Legion b.u.t.ton with the other.

"I'm not the kind that waits for a draft, General," he said. "I didn't in '61. I volunteer now."

General Waymouth smiled, bowed the three ahead of him through the door of the parlor, and softly closed it behind himself and his little party.

"Well, Thelismer," raved the State chairman, "you can certainly take rank, at your time of life and after all you've been through, as a top-notch h.e.l.l of a politician. You start out to run a State campaign, and you wind up by not being able to run even your grandson!"

"What I started running seems to be still running," said the old man, undisturbed by the attack.

"And it's costing the Republican party something, this mix-up," Presson went on.

"You think it looks expensive, taking the thing right now at apparent face value?"

"Look here! I don't relish humor--not now! I'm not in a humorous mood.

You can see what it's costing--blast that infernal band!"

Mr. Spinney's serenaders had not had their fill of music. There was din outside. The tune, "A Hot Time in the Old Town To-night," won a grunt of approval from Mr. Wasgatt, still holding his doc.u.ments, more pop-eyed than ever.

"Pretty expensive, eh?" said the Duke, lifting his knee between his hands and leaning back on the table. "You heard about--"

"I don't want any more of your cussed stories! Not to-night!" Presson rushed out. He went into the main parlor, where the members of the State Committee were in informal session.

Wasgatt was left with the Duke, and the latter fixed him with benevolent gaze.

"Old Zavanna Dodge, up our way, got to courting two old maids, trying to make up his mind which he'd take--and the one he didn't take sued him for breach o' promise. After Zavanna put in his evidence in court, he sat across from the court-house in the tavern window, waiting for the arguments to be made and the case to be decided. Toward night Squire Enfield, his lawyer, came across. 'How did she end out?' says Zavanna.

'Agin ye--for eight hundred,' says the Squire. 'Pretty expensive, Zav!'

Zavanna tucked a spill of whisker between his lips and chewed on it and rocked for a little while. 'Unh huh!' says he, figuring it over. And then he spoke up cheerful: 'Well, Squire, I reckon there's that much difference between the two women.'"

Wasgatt chuckled.

"The point to that is--but no matter! It was to Luke that I was going to show the point."

The old man got his hat from the window-sill and trudged toward the private door, saying, partly to Wasgatt, partly to himself: "I reckon I'll go to bed! Just at this minute the campaign doesn't seem to be needing my help."

CHAPTER XVII