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Updated: May 22, 2025
Thelismer Thornton had been nicknamed "The Duke of Fort Canibas." Add that the nicknames were not ill bestowed. Such was the Hon. Thelismer Thornton. He had brought newspapers in his pockets. He set his eyeglasses on his bulging nose, and began to read. In the highway below him teams went jogging into the village.
Thelismer Thornton was bland, too, in agreement with the weather. A good politician always agrees with what cannot be helped. He stood in the door of "The Barracks" and gazed out upon the rolling St. John hills a lofty, ponderous hulk of a man, thatched with white hair, his big, round face cherubic still in spite of its wrinkles.
"They'd rather lug off this caucus than any fifty districts in the State." "I don't believe there's men here that'll take money to vote against me," insisted Thornton. "But they've been lied to that much I'll admit." "You've been king here too long, Thelismer. You take too much for granted. They're bunching their hits here, I tell you.
There was a provoking flavor of mystery about Thelismer Thornton's early movements the next day. His grandson became still more interested. This element in politics appealed to him, for he was young. They left the city by an early train. The Duke secluded himself and his grandson in a drawing-room of the car. It was an express train which did not stop at way stations.
The caucus in Fort Canibas exposed the methods of "so-called reformers" as the report of it was set forth in print. And that news was a tocsin for town committeemen who had been dozing. Thelismer Thornton, House leader, party boss, knight of the old regime, and representative of all that the reformers had been inveighing against, still controlled his district. That fact was impressed upon all.
Therefore, in his serene confidence the confidence of an old man who has founded and knows the solidity of the foundations Thelismer Thornton smoked peacefully at one end of the village of Fort Canibas, and allowed rebellion to roar at its pleasure in the other end.
They were not answered on the stump. Even the Republican newspapers were listless and halfhearted. At last came Thelismer Thornton. It was one afternoon in middle August, barely three weeks before the day of the State election in September. It was his first visit to the brick house in Burnside. He had been sojourning at the State capitol.
I don't know the girl, or what the main trouble is, but you're acting like a ten-year-old." Thelismer Thornton knew it, and the knowledge added to his helpless rage. He pulled himself out of Presson's grasp. He began to revile the girl in language that made Presson set his little eyes open and purse his round mouth. "Damn it, you don't understand," roared the Duke, whirling on his friend.
It was truly an academic way of settling matters so riotously impatient of calculation as affairs of the heart, and his determination would have appealed to Miss Presson's sense of the humorous more acutely still had he undertaken to explain his emotions of that moment. Thelismer Thornton, strolling amiably through the lobby throng, came and put his hand on Harlan's shoulder.
"I know the bunch has been wanting to get at you, but I didn't believe they'd try. I see that you and your boys here realize that you're up against a fight!" He shuttled glances from face to face, and the general gloom impressed him. But it was plain that he did not understand that he was facing declared rebels. "They've slipped five thousand dollars in here, Thelismer," he went on, speaking low.
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