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Updated: June 13, 2025
Now I want to ask you one question: Do you want Arba Spinney for the next Governor of this State sitting in the chair that you honored? You know him! You've heard his mouth go. You understand his calibre. Do you want him?" "No," admitted General Waymouth. "Well, you're going to get him if you don't accept that nomination.
You're in wrong. A man isn't in right when he's playing on the losing end." "I stay where you put me," insisted Harlan, doggedly. "I'm with General Waymouth." "General Waymouth was a winner till he committed hari-kari there last night. He had Luke's machine, and he had my scheme.
And Governor Waymouth had emphasized what that new measure meant by citing the name of Luke Presson. It set the situation before Harlan in a flash. He was summoned to carry out his pledge of loyalty to Governor Waymouth by attacking the pet policy of nullification that kept his own party off the shoals to which extreme radicalism would surely drive it.
I tried to operate on a different plan long ago about the time I had the dreams but I had to give it up if I was to get anything out of life. Vard Waymouth can't build over the human nature in this State. I've had to drop him. I hadn't realized he was in such a bad way. Get aboard with the winners this trip!
General Waymouth and Harlan took chairs into their little room and sat down to wait. The sounds came to them mellowed by distance, but distinct. They followed the procession of events. Spinney's name was presented by an up-country spellbinder who had copied logic, diction, and demagogic arguments from his chief. But all the thrill, swing, and excitement of the Spinney movement were gone.
There was dignity a finality of decision that checked further argument. Thornton shifted gaze from Waymouth to his grandson, started to say more, snapped his jaws shut, and walked away. The door of the anteroom afforded a view across the stage. The hour had arrived. The secretary of the State Committee appeared from the wings and waited until the delegates were in their seats and quiet.
It brought pallor to his face and listlessness in the daily duties that bore upon him. Governor Waymouth took note at last. And when the young man asked for permission to go home to the north country for a time he reluctantly sent him away.
Linton bowed, and went out of the room. "There is no half-heartedness here!" cried Harlan, passionately. "Is there anything I can do, General Waymouth?" "Go and bring Arba Spinney to this room at once. Understand the situation before you go: I have already sent men for him. He has refused to come.
He's an orator, and he's smart, and he wins. I'm only an accident. You meant that when you said that General Waymouth won out only because matters were mixed up in politics. You don't care anything about me, personally. But you're talking to me because my grandfather asked you to. That's it." He guessed shrewdly. That outburst betrayed him.
"I reckon you'd better explain that, son," said the Duke, stiffly. "It's your own fault that I'm saying a word about it. But you did some talking after we came away from General Waymouth's house. It wasn't so much what you said; it was what you intimated. I believe in General Waymouth. But if I'm any judge of what has been framed up, he isn't going to be allowed to do what he wants to do."
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