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Beverley Byrd had come, too, manly and friendly; Plonny Neal, ill at ease for once in his life; Evan Montague, of the Post, had asked to be allowed to make the arrangements for the funeral; Buck Klinker had actually made those arrangements.
"I know it won't," said Plonny with the calmness of absolute conviction. "A fat legislature always follows a lean one. They come in strips, same as a shoulder of bacon." "Well! I wouldn't think much of a party whose legs were so weak that a little step forward everybody knows it's forward would tumble it over in a heap." "The party! I ain't thinking of the party, Mr. West.
Neal, still more gently, "would be to put you in very bad with the party leaders. Fine men they are, but they never forgive a man who puts a crimp into the party. You'd be a marked man to the longest day you lived!" "Well, Plonny! I'm not asking anything of the party leaders " "But suppose some of your friends wanted to ask something for you?"
West, whose thoughts had unconsciously run back to his last private talk with Plonny the talk about getting in line good-naturedly asked his friend if he was really lined up with the wire-pulling moss-backs who were fighting the reformatory bill. "You just watch me and see," said Plonny, with humorous reproachfulness. "No charge f'r lookin', and rain checks given in case of wet grounds."
Yet it seemed to him that a point had now been reached where he owed his first duty to himself. "Come in," he said, looking around in response to a brisk knock upon his shut door; and there entered Plonny Neal, whom Queed, through the Mercury, knew very well now. "Hi there, Doc! Playin' you was Horace Greeley?" Mr.
How else could a man so fully serve his fellows? how so surely and strongly promote the uplift? And Plonny Neal had served notice on him that he stood to-day on the crossroads to large public usefulness.
No doubt they, as well as Plonny Neal, appreciated that Blaines College did not give the young man a fair field for his talents; and certainly they knew with admiration the articles with which he sometimes adorned the columns of their paper. Of all the directors, they now pointed out, he had stood closest to Colonel Cowles, and was most familiar with the traditions and policies of the Post.
How about having a paper of your own some day, to express your own ideas and get things done, big things, the way you want 'em?" "You mean the Post?" "Well, the editor of the Post certainly would be in line, whereas the president of Blaines Grammar School certainly ain't." "What do you mean by in line, Plonny?" Mr. Neal invested his cigar with an enigmatic significance.
There were many times that winter when West wondered if Plonny Neal, whom he rarely or never saw, could possibly have failed to notice how prominently he was in line. But these doubts and dissatisfactions left little mark upon the handsome face and buoyant manner. Changes in West, if there were any, were of the slightest.
George you got the champeen wire-puller of the lot, the king politician of them all the only one in this town, I do believe, could have thrown a bag as neat over your head, Mr. West." "Why, Plonny! Much learning has made you mad! I know Dayne like a book, and he's as straightforward a fellow as ever lived." Mr.
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