Presson tried to think of a story that would explain and shield him, but the convention had not been an affair to promote clear thinking.
"Here's a legislative session at hand, and you've allowed me to stay entirely out of touch with the next first gentleman of the State! I'm like all the rest of the trailers, now. I haven't any prior social claim on him. And I can't even find him at this late hour to offer my congratulations."
"I haven't been able to offer mine, either," said the chairman, grimly.
"I'll endure no more of this foolery, Luke! If you propose to make a plaything of your own wife from now on—"
"I'm telling you the truth. General Waymouth hurried out of the hall before I could get to him. That devilish Canibas bull moose picked him up, like he's been picking up—"
But the astonishment in his wife's eyes stopped him. He was revealing too much of his secret.
"Why, Harlan Thornton went away with him—Thelismer's grandson! Some one told me who saw them in the carriage together. What do you mean by Canibas moose?"
"Can't you see that I'm all stirred up by the excitement of this convention?" he demanded. "I don't know what I'm saying. I'll explain to you later, Lucretia."
"I think you'd better. Where did General Waymouth go?"
"To the hotel, I suppose."