That sentiment complimented them. "I pledge the last
strength of my old age to the task you have imposed upon me. Give me
your pledge, man to man, in return. Shall it be for all of us: honesty
in principle and unswerving obedience to every party profession we make?
I await your 'Yes'!"
It came like a thunderclap--two thousand voices shouting it.
He stood there, his hand upraised, waiting again until the hush was upon
them once more. They were ready for the usual speech of acceptance. But
he said simply this:
"I accept the trust!"
He put his hand behind Harlan's guarding elbow and retired.
"A carriage at once, Mr. Thornton," he directed. "I must save myself for
performance, not parade."
They were away before even the eager platform notables could intercept
them. The cheering was still going on when the carriage started. From
the open windows of the hall the riot of the convention--voices and
music--pursued them until the racket of the busy street drowned it out.
"At the present moment, Mr. Thornton, it is not likely that the
Republican State Committee is in a mood for poetry," remarked General
Waymouth.
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