Don't you worry, Dave! And keep
your mouth shut!"
It was a colloquy that no one else in the room heard--Everett putting in
suggestions as the chairman whispered hoarsely in his ear. Harlan
Thornton, looking on, guessed what it might be. Linton, at his side,
ironically hinted at the possibilities of that hurried conference in the
corner. Senator Pownal walked about the room, chewing his short beard
and incapable of a word--for his re-election came before the next
legislature, and to jump the wrong way now in the gubernatorial matter
was political suicide.
Thelismer Thornton remained in his place on the corner of the table,
staring reflectively at General Waymouth.
Presson ended his whispered exhortations with a rather savage reference
to the manner in which the Duke had involved the campaign. Everett shot
a baleful glance at the man who had so cold-bloodedly planned his
undoing.
"Look here, Thornton," he called out, as he started for the door, "you
and I will have our reckoning later. We use old horses for fox bait up
our way, too, but we always make sure that the horses are dead first.
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