rs
nominate you. Then before the applause dies away, you'd better start for
home. It'll be a good time to get away while Presson is busy!" It was
plain that, lacking any other object, the Duke was venting the last of
his spleen on this wretched victim of the game. "Before you go, give me
one of those 'Honest Arba' ribbons. I keep a scrap-book of jokes!"

The abject candidate had no word to offer in reply. He was white and
trembling, for after Presson's early declaration it had seemed that the
whole shameful story was to be thundered in the ears of those two
thousand men sitting yonder.

"You can suit yourself as to your further movements, Spinney," said the
General, noting the man's distress.

"There's a rear exit from this hall," remarked the Duke, significantly.

Spinney went out, hanging his head.

"Well, there's at least one cur eliminated from the politics of this
State," blurted Harlan, gratefully.

"Eliminated!" sneered his grandfather. "The first man you'll meet in the
legislative lobby next winter, sugar on his speech and alum on his
finger, so that he can get a good firm grip of your buttonhole, will be
Arba Spinney, drawing his salary as the paid agent of half-a-dozen
schemers. He may seem a little wilted just now, but he's a hardy
perennial--you needn't worry about _him_."

"I think you're the man to take these documents to the Committee on
Resolutions, Thelismer," stated the General, drawing out the planks he
had submitted the evening before. "You can explain why they should be
inserted--and I have modified them somewhat. I have no desire to
frighten the party at the outset."

The Duke took the papers, and departed without a word. The men of the
affidavits returned to their delegations on the floor of the convention,
gratification in their faces, as well as a sense of the importance of
the secret they were guarding.

The band gave a final bellow, and the business of the convention
proceeded.

General Waymouth and Harlan took chairs into their little room and sat
down to wait. The sounds came to them mellowed by distance, but
distinct. They followed the procession of events.

Spinney's name was presented by an up-country spellbinder who had copied
logic, diction, and demagogic arguments from his chief. But all the
thrill, swing, and excitement of the Spinney movement were gone. Red
fire, hilarity, and stimulants could not be used to spice this daylight
gathering of men ranged in orderly rows on