o it. The fellows who are tending the
machine are too busy watching that part of the crowd they think is
dangerous, and then the inconspicuous chap slips one over."

"I don't want any lecture on politics," snapped the boss. "Do you mean
to insinuate that that low-lived Farr has put _this_ over on _us_?"

"I have hunted to the bottom of things and I do say so, Colonel Dodd."

"How in blazes did that fellow ever get any influence? I haven't been
able to believe that he has been accomplishing anything."

"You ought to have listened a little more closely to us, Colonel,"
insisted the committeeman. "Every once in a while there comes forward
a man whom the people will follow. And he is never the rich man nor the
proud man, but he is one who knows how to reach the hearts of the crowd.
A shrewd politician can get power by building up his machine. And then
some fellow in overalls who has some kind of a God-given quality that
has never been explained yet so that we can understand, smashes into
sight like a comet. It may be his way of talking to men, it may be his
personality--it is more likely a divine spark in him that neither he
himself nor other men understand. But every now and again some humble
chap like that has changed the history of the world, and I reckon it's
pretty easy for such a man to change the politics of a mere state."

His associates were staring at him and Colonel Dodd was giving him
furious glances. He had spoken with enthusiasm. He broke off suddenly.

"I beg your pardon. I don't mean to go quite so far. But I'm a student
of history and I've read a lot about natural-born leaders."

"You evidently know more about history than you do about politics,"
growled the colonel. "This whole state committee doesn't seem to know
much politics. If you have allowed that Farr to slime his way around
under cover and do you up in your own counties, I'll see to it that we
have a new state committee."

"I have an idea that that convention out there will attend to the matter
of a new state committee for us."

The new speaker's voice was very soft. His nickname in state politics
was "Whispering Saunders." He was known as being the most artistic
political "pussy-foot" in the party. It was averred that he could put
on rubber boots and run twice around the State House on a fresh fall of
light snow and not leave a track.

"If I'm any kind of a smeller--and I reckon it's admitted that I am,"
purred Saunders, "we are walloped