"The traction scandals, the gas scandals and the paving scandals—isn't that it?"
"Of course," said Davy.
"Then—why have the gas crowd, the traction crowd and the paving crowd each contributed twenty-five thousand dollars to your campaign fund?"
Hull stared at Victor Dorn in amazement. "Who told you that lie?" he blustered.
Dorn looked at him sadly. "Then you knew? I hoped you didn't, Hull. But—now that you're facing the situation squarely, don't you see that you're being made a fool of? Would those people put up for your election if they weren't SURE you and your crowd were THEIR crowd?"
"They'll find out!" cried Hull.
"You'll find out, you mean," replied Victor. "I see your whole programme, Davy. They'll put you in, and they'll say, 'Let us alone and we'll make you governor of the State. Annoy us, and you'll have no political future.' And you'll say to yourself, 'The wise thing for me to do is to wait until I'm governor before I begin to serve the people. THEN I can really do something.' And so, you'll be THEIR mayor—and afterward THEIR governor—because they'll hold out another inducement. Anyhow, by that time you'll be so completely theirs that you'll have no hope of a career except through them."
After reading how some famous oration wrought upon its audience we turn to it and wonder that such tempests of emotion could have been produced by such simple, perhaps almost commonplace words. The key to the mystery is usually a magic quality in the tone of the orator, evoking before its hypnotized hearers a series of vivid pictures, just as the notes of a violin, with no aid from words or even from musical form seem to materialize into visions.
This uncommon yet by no means rare power was in Victor Dorn's voice, and explained his extraordinary influence over people of all kinds and classes; it wove a spell that enmeshed even those who disliked him for his detestable views. Davy Hull, listening to Victor's simple recital of his prospective career, was so wrought upon that he sat staring before him in a kind of terror.
"Davy," said Victor gently, "you're at the parting of the ways. The time for honest halfway reformers—for political amateurs has passed. 'Under which king, Bezonian? Speak or die!'—that's the situation today."