You shan't cut your own
throat, I say! Get onto that floor, men!"
They went. It was the rush of men to save themselves. Each man as he
passed out cast a glance upon the papers that General Waymouth clutched,
and a second glance at Harlan, brawny guard, at his side.
"Take Everett across to the committee-room and call in the men who were
to present him," directed the Duke, releasing the chairman. "And it's up
to you two to give 'em a story that will hold 'em. It's short notice,
but you've got General Waymouth for a text! Look here, Dave," he whirled
on Everett, who was frantically protesting, "your strength was the
strength the boys of the machine put behind you. It hasn't been personal
strength. You can't afford to be a blasted fool now, even if you are
crazy mad. You've been lecturing considerably the past few weeks on
'party exigencies.' This is one. It's an exigency that will put you
before a grand jury if you don't tread careful. Get across there, you
and Presson! I'm eating dirt myself. Get down on your hands and knees
with me, and make believe you like it!"
He hustled them out.
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