up the road at
a brisk gait, stamped across the yard, and went direct to the Duke, who
waited for him at the far end of the porch. He did not glance at Presson
or at Harlan Thornton.

"Did you ever _see_ anything like it, did you ever _hear_ anything like
it, Honor'ble?" the new arrival demanded with heat. "They're goin' to
make a caucus out of it--a _caucus_!"

The man had a lower jaw edged with a roll of black whisker, a jaw that
protruded like a bulldog's. With the familiarity of the long-time
lieutenant, he pecked with thumb and forefinger at the end of a cigar
protruding from his chief's waistcoat-pocket. He wrenched off the tip
between snaggy teeth. He spat the tip far.

"Yes, sir, by jehoshaphat, a caucus!"

Chairman Presson's ear had caught the sound of politics. He felt that he
was entitled, ex officio, to be present at any conference. He hurried to
the end of the porch.

"We ain't had a caucus in this district for more'n forty years," stated
the new arrival, accepting the chairman as a friend of the cause.
"Except as the chairman catches the seckertery somewhere and then
hollers for some one to come in from the street and renominate the
Honor'ble Thornton. But, dammit, this is going to be a _caucus_." The
word seemed suddenly to have acquired novel meaning for him. "They must
have been pussy-footin' for a month. You could have knocked me down with
your cigar-butt, Squire, when I got in here to-day and found how she
stood. If it hadn't been for War Eagle Ivus and his buck sheep breakin'
out, they'd have ambuscaded ye, surer'n palm-leaf fans can't cool the
kitchen o' hell. But even as it is--hoot and holler now, and
tag-gool-I-see-ye, they say they've got you licked, and licked in the
open--that's what they say!" The man's tone was that of one announcing
the blotting-out of the stars.

"Walt Davis bragged about it," said the old man, outwardly calm, but
eyes ablaze. "It must be a pretty sure thing when he's got the courage
to crawl out from under the wagon and yap."

"Good God!" blurted the chairman of the State Committee, "you don't mean
to tell _me_!"

"It's the ramrodders! They've been up here, one or two of the old cock
ones, workin' under cover," stated the unswerving one. "About once in so
often the people are ripe to be picked. They've mebbe had drought,
chilblains, lost a new milch cow, and had a note come due--and some one
that's paid to do it tells 'em that it's all due to the political
rin