"He's a rascal."
"Perhaps he is. Once you are elected, however, you can force him out, and be hanged to him. Just now it would be extremely dangerous. My boy, politics has strange bed-fellows, as the saying goes. These men are necessary; to fight them is to cut your own throat. No one knows just how they get their power; but one morning you will wake up and find them menacing you, and you have to placate them and toss them sops."
"I might at least have been consulted."
"I appreciated your antagonism beforehand. Politics is a peculiar business. A man must form about himself a shell as thick as a turtle's, or his feelings are going to be hurt. Now, if you would like to change any of these smaller offices, the health department doesn't matter. What do you say?"
"Oh, if Matthews remains on the slate, I do not care to alter the rest of it. But I warn you that I shall get rid of him at the earliest opportunity."
"Just as you like."
The senator smiled covertly. Matthews was one of his henchmen in the larger matters of state. His name had been the first to appear on the slate, and the senator was determined that it should remain there. Not that he had any liking for the man; simply he was one of the wheels which made the machine run smoothly. The senator knew his power of persuasion; he knew Williard's easy-going nature; but he also knew that these easy-going persons are terribly stubborn at times. He was obliged to hold on to Matthews. The gubernatorial campaign was looming up for the ensuing year, and the senator was curious to learn the real power that went with the seal of a governor of a first-class state.
There fell an intermission to the conversation. Williard smoked thoughtfully. He recalled the years during which he had accepted the generous hospitality of this house, and the love he held for the host's daughter. Only since his return from abroad had he learned the strength of his sentiment. Heretofore he had looked upon the girl as a sister, jolly, talented, a fine dancer, a daring rider, a good comrade. He had been out of the country for three years. On his return he had found Betty Gordon a beautiful woman, and he had silently surrendered. As yet he had said nothing, but he knew that she knew. Yet he always saw the shadow of Newcomb, old Jack Newcomb. Well, let the best man win!
"I can find a way to dispose of Matthews," he said finally.
"I dare say."