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Day, Holman (Holman Francis), 1865-1935

"The Ramrodders A Novel"

They got you going, didn't they, when
they went around telling that I thought I owned you in this district,
body and soul? Got you jealous and suspicious and mad? Can you afford to
be jealous and mad when you've got a fellow like Harlan Thornton willing
to go down to the legislature and work for you? Do you want one of those
blatherskites to represent you? Now tell me!"
"Poor men that have to work all the time don't have the chance to look
into public things as much as they ought to," said one of the men,
apologetically. "And sometimes when a fellow comes around who can talk
smooth we get fooled."
"You've bought a lot of fake things from travelling agents in this
county. Now don't buy fake politics," He took the checks from his
grandson's hand. Harlan had brought them, and a pen. He cocked his knee
and scrawled his signature. They came to him and took their checks. Each
stood there, holding the slip of paper awkwardly pinched between thumb
and forefinger. The Duke waited.
"I want to say this," stammered the spokesman.


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