“Then—that’s what you’ll do.”
“I suppose so,” Branagan reluctantly admitted. “I wisht I was as young as you, George—and had my old-time nerve—and didn’t have an expensive family. I’d take a chance.”
“Of being able to stay in now that you’re in?”
“That’s it. Damn it, I sometimes believe we could.”
Helm shook his head. “The district is normally seven thousand Republicans out of a total vote of eighteen thousand. It’d take ten years of hard work—and honest politics—to change that round to a small steady Democratic plurality.”
“But the people are crazy about you.”
“They won’t reëlect me,” said Helm. “Next time they’ll be back in the harness.”
“For a youngster you take a mighty gloomy view of things.”
“I don’t delude myself. I don’t dare. I’ve been making my own living since I was ten and I’ve got to go on making it till I die.”
“Yes, the people are mutts,” said Branagan. “They were born to be trimmed..... So—if you was in my place you’d fix up a peace with Reichman?”