peril. He had
more faith in the inherent, unorganized honesty of "The People" than
Thelismer Thornton had. But, with just as shrewd political knowledge as
the Duke, he held with him that the "The People" amount to mighty little
as a force in politics unless well and loyally officered.

A campaign will not run itself. Left to run itself, the issues are not
brought out to stir up the voting spirit. "The People" have to be poked
into the fighting mood--their ears have to be scruffed--they need
speakers, literature, marshals, inciters--hurrah of partisanship. It was
the off year for the national campaign. No money came into the State
from the Big Fellows.

The State Committee was looked to by the county and town committees to
start the ball rolling and guarantee the purse to push it. "The People"
were, as usual, too busy getting daily bread to be spontaneous in
political movements.

General Waymouth sat in the old brick house in Burnside village, and did
the best he could during the long hot days of July and the sultry first
fortnight of August. Harlan Thornton worked with him. The library
resounded with the click of typewriters, and men came and men went. But
there was no up-and-moving spirit to the campaign.

An old man writing letters--even such an old man as General Varden
Waymouth was in the estimation of his State--is a small voice in the
wilderness of politics.

The Democrats had vociferous orators. Those orators had for text State
extravagance, unjust taxation, and all the other charges "the unders"
may bring against the reigning rulers. They were not answered on the
stump. Even the Republican newspapers were listless and halfhearted.

At last came Thelismer Thornton. It was one afternoon in middle August,
barely three weeks before the day of the State election in September. It
was his first visit to the brick house in Burnside. He had been
sojourning at the State capitol. Men had told Harlan, from time to time,
that he was spending his days sitting on the broad veranda of Luke
Presson's hotel, apparently enjoying the summer with the same leisurely
ease that the State chairman was displaying. Men were sometimes
inquisitive when they mentioned this matter to Harlan. They did not
presume to ask questions of the General. But the young man had nothing
to say. It must be confessed that he did not know anything about it.

He obeyed the instructions the General gave him and toiled as best he
knew, but that the main