Villard laughed heartily. The two others joined feebly. They were not so sure of the situation. Their knowledge of Waldron’s power and the accuracy of his judgment was not so clear as the older man’s.
“Not only have we the most corrupt and incompetent government of all history,” Waldron went on, “but to add to its confusion and weakness we have lately thrust the duties of the ballot upon millions of hysterical women utterly unfitted for its responsibilities. It is an actual fact that the women now enfranchised in the Middle and Western states hold the balance of power—”
Villard suddenly leaped to his feet.
“And they will vote solidly against every programme of preparation!”
Waldron nodded.
“How fortunate at this moment!” Villard went on enthusiastically, “that the women rule American men. I begin to see the reason for your confidence. You will enlist of course the eloquent young leader who addressed the mob in Union Square last week?”
“At once,” Waldron answered quickly. “Virginia Holland is one of the feminine gods at the moment. It’s amazing with what blind worship her disciples follow—”
“She’s a stunning young woman, sir!” Villard broke in gallantly. “By Jove, she stirred me. You can’t neglect her—”
“I shall cultivate her at once,” was the quiet answer. “In the meantime, Meyer”—Waldron paused and held the enthusiast’s eye for an instant and went on rapidly—“we will forget the ships—”
Meyer frowned in surprise but had no time to answer before he received the curt order in an undertone.