Again he made careful scrutiny of the faces of
his constituents. Then he turned his back on them and climbed up the
twisted roots to his chair, sat down, faced them, caught his breath, and
ejaculated, "Well, I'll be eternally d----d!"
He studied their faces for some time. But he was too good a politician
to put much value on those human documents upraised to him. There were
grins, subtle or humorous. There were a few scowls. One or two,
tittering while they did it, urged the "War Eagle" on to fresh tirade.
It was a mob that hardly knew its own mind, that was plain. But revolt
was there. He felt it. It was one of those queer rebellions, starting
with a joke for an excuse, but ready to settle into something serious.
It was not so much hostility that he saw at that moment as something
more dangerous--lack of respect.
"Look here, boys, I've been hearing that some of those cheap suckers
from down State have been sneaking around this district. But I've never
insulted you by believing you took any stock in that kind of cattle.
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