'"
It was now Chairman Presson's turn to look uncomfortable.
"Look here, Vard," exploded Thornton, "I've been pretty patient while
you've been amputating a few fingers and toes of the Republican party of
this State, but I'll be damned if I propose to see you cut its throat."
There was fresh knocking at the door, but the group within the parlor
had enough to think about just then without entertaining callers.
"Now you're talking simply about yourselves and your office-holders and
your dirty profits. You're calling that mess of nasty confederacy 'Our
Party,'" declared General Waymouth, passionately. "When honesty kills a
party, let it die--let its men get out and organize another one. But I
tell you, you can't kill it by being honest, Thelismer. The trouble is
you're sitting here and building for to-night--for to-morrow. I'm a
Republican--you can't take that name away from me. But the badge doesn't
belong on men who are using that name to cover up a rum-selling
business."
Chairman Presson was livid. He leaped from his chair and drove his fist
down on the table,
"Now you're insulting me personally!" he shouted.
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