"Meaning nothing in a political mix-up such as this is. I can't afford to dump all my future overboard and kill myself for the next legislature by an absolutely useless and quixotic splurge in to-day's convention. The General has made no canvass—he isn't even very much interested personally in the affair. I hope I stand straight with you now. I'm going up and tell the General exactly how I feel about the thing. I advise you to do the same. You'll be very foolish to butt your head against every political influence in this State that counts for anything. I told your grandfather—"
"I don't want your advice in politics," blazed Harlan, letting his grudge have rein, "and I don't thank you to tell me how to get along with my own grandfather!"
He hoped that young Mr. Linton would resent that manner of speech.
Young Mr. Linton, as stalwart as he, raised his black eyebrows, pursed his lips, and was not daunted by the outburst.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Thornton," he said, "but I fear you did not have enough sleep last night."
He started for General Waymouth's room, and Harlan followed him. There seemed to be no other haven for the latter just then. He was hung between the political sky and earth. He had no hope left that the General could prevail over the conditions that had so suddenly presented themselves. But his loyalty was not shaken. Now it had become unreasoning loyalty, dogged determination to stick to his choice; and as he looked at Linton's back preceding him along the corridor, he was more firmly determined than ever. Suddenly he was glad of the fact that this young man was on the other side, and he did not stop to analyze why he was glad it was so.
General Waymouth's parlor was crowded with men. The size of that levee astonished the two new arrivals. The General was not in sight. He was closeted with some one in the bedroom. Harlan and Linton noted that the men in the parlor did not wear the demeanor of ordinary visitors calling to pay their respects to a "has been." Some of them were talking eagerly in bunches, some were waiting—all were serious and anxious.
General Waymouth, coming to his bedroom door to usher out three men and admit others, saw his young lieutenants. He called them to him. He was straighter. He was stern. Fires within had given his eyes the flash of youth. All his usual gentle pensiveness was gone.
"My boys," he said, earnestly, "a week ago I didn't think I wanted to be Governor of this State again. But I want that office now with the whole strength of my soul. The devil is running our State to-day through his agents. I've got a duty to perform. I haven't time now to tell you what I've discovered since you left my room. I want you to—"
"I ask your pardon for interrupting, General," said Linton, manfully, "but I want to be as square with you as I can. Interests that belong to others will suffer if I continue with you—things being as they are. I make haste to speak before you tell me any more. I ask to be released."