"Gas!" pointedly responded Twist.
"Gas? Well, you voted for him last year, when he run for Congress; you were the first man to nominate him, too!"
"So I was, and I voted for him, drummed for him, fifed and blowed; that was no reason for my thinking him the best man we had for the office. He's a demagogue, an ambitious, sly, selfish feller, as we could skeer up; but, he was in our way, we couldn't get shut of him; I proposed the nomination, and tried to elect him, so that we should get him out of the way of our local affairs, and more deserving and less pretendin' men could get a chance, don't you see? Now, Flambang, you're the man I'm goin' in for to-night!"
"Me! Mr. Twist? Why, bless your soul, I don't want office!"
"Come, now, don't be modest. I'll lay the ground-work, you'll be nominated—I'll not be known in it—you'll get the nomination—called out for a speech—so be on the trigger—give 'em a rouser, and you're in!"
Poor Flambang, a modest, retiring man, peaceable proprietor of a small shop, in which, by the force of prudence and economy, he has laid up something, has a voice among his fellow-citizens and some influence, but would as soon attempt to carry a blazing pine knot into a powder magazine, or "ship" for a missionary to the Tongo Islands, as to run for the Legislature and make a speech in public! Twist knows it; he guesses shrewdly at the effect.
"Why don't you run?" says Flambang, after many efforts to get his breath.
"Me? Well, if you don't want to run."
"Run? I would as soon think of jumping over the moon, as running for office!" answers Flambang. "But I thank you, thank you kindly, for your good intentions, for your confidence(!), Twist, and whatever good I can do for you, I'll do, and—"
Twist having secured the first step to his plot, enters the caucus chamber in deep and earnest consultation with Flambang, and while preparations are being made to "histe the rag," he is seen making converts to his sly purposes, upon the same principle by which he converted his modest friend, Flambang.