After outlining his purposes toward the party in case he were selected, he summarized his finding in the water power problem in words eloquent for their simple clearness. Finally came the closing section in which he was to give his long awaited policy.
His councilors listening downstairs, who had worked with him over the manuscript, knew his suggestion for a long term nonpartisan commission by heart.
But as he began this section they heard words strangely unfamiliar. They stared at each other in amazement. Down in the convention hall it was as though the assemblage had been struck by a bolt of lightning.
They heard Hammond, the supposed scientific progressive, deliberately proposing as his conclusions that the State keep its hands off the water power forever, and leave it in the grasp of the present private corporations. As his words ceased, it was evident that in a few brief sentences, Hammond had torn down all the esteem that he had built up, and with it his hopes of the nomination.
There was a moment of silence in the great hall, and then pandemonium broke loose. Boss Quaid and Barney Fogarty pounded each other on the backs and shouted with glee. Hammond had gone further than Quaid in his most arrogant moments had ever dared go.
“The guy’s gone crazy!” Barney roared.
“Barney, you’re right,” roared the big fellow.
In the Hammond farmhouse the doctor came out of the speaker’s room to face a horrified group.
“Doctor—has it been too much for him? Is he delirious?” Mrs. Hammond gasped.
“Oh, no; he’s all right. Seems to be a great relief to him to get it off his mind,” the doctor reassured her.