“No,” said Helm. “I shouldn’t. But you ought to do it. You don’t want to make a losing fight for ten years—do you? You don’t want to drop politics as a business, do you?”
“It’s a business or it’s nothing,” replied Branagan.
“For you,” corrected Helm.
“For all of them that’s in it—except here and there a crank.”
“Except here and there a crank,” assented Helm.
“Republicans and Democrats—they all belong one way or another to this interest or that. What’s the use of fighting the crowd that’s got the money? No use—not here in this town—not up to the State Capitol, where you’re going—not on to Washington where I reckon you calculate to go some day. Not nowhere, George!”
“Not nowhere,” said George. “It takes two negatives to give that affirmative its full strength.”
“Not nowhere on earth,” repeated Branagan. “Fight the money crowd, and sooner or later they’ll get you down. Bluff at fightin’ ’em. They don’t mind that. They understand you’ve got to keep in with the people, and they want you to, so as you’ll be useful. But don’t do nothing. Look at any of the big politicians that the people think so well of. What have they done? Nothing. They’ve bluffed—and talked—and roared. Maybe they cut off a measly little grafter here or there. But when it came to a show-down, they gave the crowd with the cash what they wanted. Eh?”
Helm nodded.
“Well—what are you going to do?”