"By ——!" roared Everett, furious, realizing how this candidacy threatened his hopes, "run if you want to. But I'll see to it that these delegates know how you're running—cutting under a man that's made an honest canvass!" He started for the door, tossing his arms above his head—a politician beginning to run amuck.
Presson grabbed his arm and held him back.
"Don't be a lunatic, Dave," he buzzed in his ear. "If you go to advertising this around the hotel to-night you'll be giving Spinney the tip and starting Waymouth's boom for him. Damn it, you want to keep your teeth shut tight and your tongue behind them! There'll be no blabbers go out of this room—I'll see to that! I'll put a dozen members of the State Committee at work on the delegates to-night." He was walking Everett toward the door, getting him out of earshot of the others. "Weymouth has got a platform there that sounds as though it was drawn up by the House Committee of Paradise. He's got to be licked—great Judas, he's got to be licked! I've got five thousand that the liquor crowd has sent into the State for the campaign, but this is the place to use it—right here now! And it'll be used. Don't you worry, Dave! And keep your mouth shut!"
It was a colloquy that no one else in the room heard—Everett putting in suggestions as the chairman whispered hoarsely in his ear. Harlan Thornton, looking on, guessed what it might be. Linton, at his side, ironically hinted at the possibilities of that hurried conference in the corner. Senator Pownal walked about the room, chewing his short beard and incapable of a word—for his re-election came before the next legislature, and to jump the wrong way now in the gubernatorial matter was political suicide.
Thelismer Thornton remained in his place on the corner of the table, staring reflectively at General Waymouth.
Presson ended his whispered exhortations with a rather savage reference to the manner in which the Duke had involved the campaign. Everett shot a baleful glance at the man who had so cold-bloodedly planned his undoing.
"Look here, Thornton," he called out, as he started for the door, "you and I will have our reckoning later. We use old horses for fox bait up our way, too, but we always make sure that the horses are dead first." He went out and slammed the door.
Thornton did not turn his head. He kept his eyes on Waymouth.
"Vard," he said, "I reckon I haven't been keeping my political charts up to date. I had you down as a peninsula, jutting out some from the Republican party, but still hitched on to it. I find you're an island, standing all by yourself, and with pretty rocky shores."
"Perhaps so," admitted the General.