“Why have I kept him? You were going to ask. Well, he is a good man in his way. He is an immensely clever writer, if you don’t care much for solid argument, and do care for decorative stuff, with a good deal of fun, and epigram, and big words. People used to talk about his articles. I suppose hundreds of people buy the Chronicle just to read them. Well, we will have to lose those people, and all the others who will quarrel with us for bolting the ticket. For she’s going to be bolted! So you better go to bed early to-night, and eat raw meat for breakfast, for we want a leader to-morrow that will make their hair curl.”
“Do you mean——” began Seth in a flutter of strange excitement.
“Yes, you will have to take hold. Samboye shall never show his face in that room again. That’s settled! I may get somebody else, later—we’ll see. But you can carry it along for a time, can’t you?”
“I’ll try—but I am afraid——”
“You needn’t be afraid. In a campaign you simply want straightforward, red-hot, to-the-point writing. It is the rest of the year, when one must write general matter, that pulls on a man. Besides, Ansdell will help you out, if you need him. Oh, yes, and that reminds me—your brother Albert didn’t show to very good advantage in that Convention. He might easily have made a better beginning in politics than that. From all accounts he had the Dearborn County delegates in his pocket, and, although these other scandals have diverted attention from it, I think the way they ratted over was about the worst thing in the whole affair.”
“It wasn’t nice, for a fact,” said Seth.
“I haven’t had it mentioned in the paper, mostly on your account. But I am not so clear about keeping silent next week, when the Congressional Convention comes up. Your brother, I suppose, has Dearborn County solid for his own candidacy. But here in Adams County the delegates are for Ansdell—and of course he is our sort of man. I don’t think much of a party paper interfering before the nomination is made, but this may be a case where it will be necessary—especially if Abe Beekman, up in Jay County, tries any of his funny work. However, it will be time enough to cross that bridge when we get to it. Meanwhile, say not a word to anybody, in the office or out of it, about what has happened. Just go ahead with the work, and pay attention to no one.”
There was no scandal. Mr. Samboye took his punishment quietly, and left Tecumseh shortly afterward, ostensibly on a long vacation. There was some little gossip, but no whisper of the actual facts in the case.
Seth surprised himself by the excellence and evenness of his work in the new position. Probably he will never do better or stronger writing than he did in this his first campaign. For one thing, it is doubtful if any political contest can ever again appeal to his enthusiasm, and stir all his emotions to the glowing point of ardency, as this one did. In one sense his new position was embarrassing, for a number of the old time readers of the Chronicle refused to support it now against their party, and some of them said very disagreeable things about the youngster rattling about in Samboye’s shoes. But there was another class, a larger class it seemed to him, who shared his enthusiasm, and, in their excited admiration for the course of the paper, heaped praises upon him even beyond his deserts. So he worked on, writing almost the entire page daily, coming down early in the morning and staying long after the paper was out, and giving scarcely a thought to the outside world.
He had barely seen Ansdell since his promotion. He felt an even greater sense of loss in this than he would have done under ordinary circumstances, for the tremendous mental outpouring to which he was daily subjected made him almost famished, at times, for food in the form of conversation with this man who, of all others, most sympathized with him.