The Ramrodders Part 40

Those details of proposed activity he kept to himself. The platform was: That it behooved all men in the State to be prompt and honest in obeying the law. That the man who did not obey the law would find himself in trouble. Moreover, position, personality, or purse could purchase no exceptions.

That was a platform which Mr. Presson could not attack, of course.

He listened to it sullenly, however. He was angry because common decency prevented him from expressing his opinion. He had heard other candidates pompously declare the same thing, but he had not been worried by fear that saints had come on earth.

This calm old man from whose fibre of ambition the years had burned out selfishness, greed, graft, and chicanery was a different proposition.

His words sounded as though he meant what he said. And when he asked the chairman if he had any objection to offer to a system of administration that carried out exactly what the party had put in its pledges to the people, Presson glowered at him with hatred in his soul and malice twinkling in his eyes, and could find no language that would not brand him as a conspirator against the honor of his State.

But he went back to headquarters swearing and sulking.

In this spirit did candidate and managers face the campaign.

It is not easy to hide family squabbles of that magnitude. The men concerned in the princ.i.p.al secret of the State Convention kept their mouths shut for the sake of self-preservation. But unquiet suspicion was abroad. The Democrats nosed, figured, guessed, and acted with more duplicity than had characterized their usual campaigns against the dominant party. Their leaders gave their party a platform that invited every one to get aboard. Every question was straddled. It was a doc.u.ment of craft expressed in terms of apparent candor. It elevated a demagogue as candidate for Governor, and promised every reform on the calendar.

These were the rash pledges of the minority, more reckless than usual.

An united dominant party could have met the issues boldly and frankly without fear as to results.

But General Waymouth promptly discovered that he had a loyal army with rebel officers. He was soldier enough to understand the 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 partisans.h.i.+p. 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 campaign was hanging fire he did not realize.

For the General, who knew politics, did not complain to him. The veteran was a little whiter, a bit more dignified, and directed the movements of his modest force of office a.s.sistants with a curtness he had not shown at first; but no other sign betrayed that he knew his State Committee had "lain down on him."

The Duke sauntered up the walk, whipping off his hat and swinging it in his hand as soon as he arrived under the trees of the old garden. He came into the house without knocking. The front door was swung inward, and only a screen door, on the latch, closed the portal.

"I'm making myself at home as usual, Vard," he said, walking to the General and stroking his shoulder as the veteran leaned over his table above his figures. "I've been waiting for an invitation to come up here.

But I didn't dare to wait any longer. It's getting too near election."

General Waymouth looked up at his old friend, studying his face. He found only the bland cordiality of the ancient days.

"I've been waiting, myself, Thelismer," he returned. "And I'll add that I don't intend to wait much longer. I'm not referring to you, now. I refer to Presson and his gang. I presume you are still close to them.

Will you inform them that I don't intend to wait much longer?"

Thornton did not lose his smile. He sat down. He nodded across the room to Harlan with as much nonchalance as though he had been seeing him every day.

"I would have run in before this, Varden, but somehow I got the impression from you and the boy that you were fully capable of operating things yourself. But with election only three weeks off I'm getting ready to change my mind. What are you going to do with that steer team--no, mule team--that's better?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning Luke Presson and the members of the State Committee. I'm a politician, Varden. I'm out of a job just now. Both crowds of you seem to think you can get along all right without me. Probably you can. Luke knows _he_ can, so he says. He doesn't seem to like my management or my advice--not after that convention! But I can't help being a politician.

I can't sit on that hotel piazza any longer and see this mess scorch.

I'm too good a cook to stand it." He hitched forward in his chair and spoke low. "Varden, it sounds like the devil making a presentation copy of the Ten Commandments on asbestos, but I can't help that! I'm giving it to you straight. We've got body-s.n.a.t.c.hers for a State Committee.

They'd rather see the Democrat the next Governor than you. That's how mad they are. That's how sure they are that you propose to put their noses to the grindstone. That's how rotten politics is in this State.

The Democrat won't give us reform. They know it. They'd rather see the State officers go by the board than have the kind of reform you've promised 'em. They can get rid of their Democrat after two years. Your reform may hang on a good while, once get the laws chained. Now what are you going to do?"

"I know exactly what I'm going to do."

"Yes; but, grinning Jehosaphat, how much time have you got to do it in?

Three weeks to election now!"

"This campaign, Thelismer, will be started, as it ought to be started, within the next twenty-four hours. As to how it will be started I'll have you present as a witness, if you'll accept an invitation."

The Duke was obliged to be contented with only that much a.s.surance and information.

"There's a train back to the State capital in half an hour, Thelismer,"

the General stated. "I'll be pleased to have you go along with Harlan and myself. If you'll excuse me now, I'll finish signing these letters."

The old man was not disturbed by this abruptness. He rose.

"I reckon you know how to play the game, Vard," he said. "I'm perfectly satisfied, now that I know you are playing it. But you'll excuse me for being a little uneasy about your starting in."

He did not interrupt Harlan, who was busy at his desk. He picked up one of the newspapers that covered the General's table, and marched out into the garden.

He joined them when they came out. The General's old-fas.h.i.+oned carryall conveyed them to the railroad station. They made the journey to the capital without a word of reference to the purpose of their trip.

Un.o.btrusively chatting about the old times, the Duke and his friend made their way back to their old footing. It was mutual forbearance and forgiveness, for they were old enough to be philosophers, and especially did they understand the philosophy of politics.

Chairman Presson was in his office at his hotel when they entered. He came out to greet General Waymouth, suave but circ.u.mspect, and furtively studied word and aspect of his visitor.

"Mr. Presson," said the General, breaking in upon the chairman's vague gossip regarding the political situation, "this is short notice, but I presume you can reach a few members of the State Committee by telephone.

I wish to meet them and you at my rooms in the hotel at nine this evening. It is important."

They came. There were half a dozen of them--men who hurried in from such near points as the chairman could reach; and at the appointed hour Presson ushered them into the General's room. Harlan Thornton was waiting there with his chief. The Duke arrived in a few moments, alone.

He sat down at one side of the room, bearing himself with an air of judicial impartiality. The chairman scowled at him. Judged by recent experience, Thelismer Thornton was a questionable quant.i.ty in a conference between the machine and General Waymouth.

The committeemen took their cue from the chairman. They were sullen.

They bristled with an obstinacy that betrayed itself in advance.

The General got down to business promptly. It was not a gathering that invited any preamble of cheerful chat. He understood perfectly that the men were there only because they did not dare to stay away.

"Chairman Presson, it is now close upon the election. I have canva.s.sed the State as best I could through the mails. With Mr. Harlan Thornton's a.s.sistance and through my friends in various towns, I have secured a pretty complete list of doubtful voters. I will say in pa.s.sing that I have tried to enlist the help of your town committeemen, but they seem to be asleep. I have thanked G.o.d daily that I have personal friends willing to help me. I have the names at last. I have accomplished alone the work that is usually attended to by the State Committee."

Presson started to say something, but the General stopped him.

"One moment, Mr. Chairman. Let me tell you what _I_ have done. One of us at a time! When I've told you what I've done, you can tell me what _you've_ attended to. I have those names, I have pledges of support, I have plans for getting out the vote. But I have no literature for distribution to those doubtful voters, I have no speakers a.s.signed by the State Committee to help the men who are trying to get the vote out, I have no fund provided for the usual expenses. Now I will listen to you, Mr. Chairman. Will you tell me what you have done?"

"It's an off year, General Waymouth," said Presson. "I asked the Congressional Committee for money, but I couldn't interest 'em. And I'll tell you frankly that the regular sources in this State are dry. There isn't the usual feeling. You're a good politician. Perhaps you know why it's so."