He was preparing to
resent this autocratic manner.
"Well, I _don't_!" cried the State chairman. Secretly he had been
offended by Thornton's high-handed assumption of control, ever since
their talk on the morning after the Fort Canibas caucus. He had promptly
recognized the political sagacity of the old man's plan. In his fear of
the Spinney agitation--in his apprehension lest all control should be
wrested from his faction of the party--he had been eager to compromise
on General Waymouth, hoping that he would prove to be as amenable to
party reason as he knew Everett already was. But this intractable old
Spartan, with his dictation of party principles that meant the loss of
policy, power, and profits, had angered him to his marrow. He was ready
to declare himself now, Thornton or mo Thornton. He turned on the Duke.
"Perhaps you can lick me--that's the only way you can get it!" he
declared. "But you needn't expect me to stand here and grin and hand it
over."
Thornton stared at him understandingly, accepting the challenge.
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