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Wasgatt turned to him after a rapid scrutiny of the make-up of the party. "I'd like to have the resolutions read," remarked the General, quietly. "Go ahead, Wasgatt," commanded Presson; and the committeeman advanced to the table under the chandelier and began to read. The preamble was after the usual stereotyped form; the first sections endorsed the cardinal principles of the party, and Mr.
I have accomplished alone the work that is usually attended to by the State Committee." Presson started to say something, but the General stopped him. "One moment, Mr. Chairman. Let me tell you what I have done. One of us at a time! When I've told you what I've done, you can tell me what you've attended to. I have those names, I have pledges of support, I have plans for getting out the vote.
Chairman Presson was livid. He leaped from his chair and drove his fist down on the table, "Now you're insulting me personally!" he shouted. "I deal in no personalities, sir. So long as I hide myself under the name of Republican and allow this thing to go on as it's going, I'm in the traffic myself; and I don't propose to continue in it not when I have power placed in my hands."
Presson, down to the humblest town committeeman, does full duty in time and effort. But if one has to buy it all, it needs a deep purse. From what you say, it is plain to me that I am now left to run my own campaign. I tell you very frankly, gentlemen, my means are limited. I have not made money out of politics. One course only is left open to me.
He was again their Duke of Fort Canibas, who could retire with dignity even from such a position as this. "Go ahead and train with your crowd, Sheriff Niles," he drawled, sarcastically "Tom Willy, and whoever they are behind him that are too ashamed to show themselves!" He started for the door, Luke Presson at his heels.
Harlan had been included in his invitation, and attended his chief. With old-fashioned gallantry, General Waymouth made his compliments to the ladies whom Mrs. Presson had assembled to grace the occasion. Her little crust of social earth had been tossed alarmingly by the political earthquake, but she felt that now she was finding safe footing once more.
They paid no attention to Harlan, but surveyed Chairman Presson with disfavor that was very noticeable. Several of the men were clergymen, advertised as such by their white ties and frock-coats. Those who attended them had the unmistakable air of zealots. Their demeanor showed that they had come on business that they considered serious. General Waymouth knew them.
"My dear Harlan, you don't mean to say that you are proposing to me here in the face and eyes of this crowd?" She said it with sudden amazed mirth dancing in her eyes, but with a note of satire in her tone. "I do mean it!" He cried it so loudly that men turned their heads to stare at this earnest young man who was protesting his faith to the handsome daughter of Luke Presson.
But with election only three weeks off I'm getting ready to change my mind. What are you going to do with that steer team no, mule team that's better?" "Meaning?" "Meaning Luke Presson and the members of the State Committee. I'm a politician, Varden. I'm out of a job just now. Both crowds of you seem to think you can get along all right without me. Probably you can. Luke knows he can, so he says.
I've got the bulk of that convention behind me. I don't propose to be shunted." "I supposed you all remembered the details of what you did last evening," returned the General, coldly. "Is it necessary for me to remind you, Mr. Everett, that Chairman Presson turned over to Spinney a paper in which you agreed to appoint him to a State office? That transaction was noted along with the rest, sir."
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