le. Political
sagacity saw trouble ahead. And no one in the State was politically more
sagacious than Thelismer Thornton, who had seen men come and seen men
go, and knew all their moods and fancies.

On the morning that the State chairman hurried out of Fort Canibas he
discussed the matter of the rival candidates with the old man--that is
to say, he talked and Thornton listened. And the more the chairman
talked, the more his own declarations convinced him.

"Why, the old bull fiddle can't fool the convention, Thelismer. He's
running around the State now, and they're listening to him like they'd
listen to a steam calliope, but what he says don't amount to anything
for an argument. It's the pledged delegates that count."

The old man drew a fat, black wallet from his hip pocket, and leisurely
extracted a packet of newspaper clippings.

"I've been watching the lists of delegates as they've been chosen, Luke.
But I fail to see where you're getting pledged delegations."

"They don't need to be pledged, not the men our town committees are
picking."

"Your town committees may be picking the men for delegates, but it is
the caucus that does the pledging. And the delegates are being sent out
without labels. You don't dare to insist on the pledges--now, do you?"

"You know as well as I do, Thelismer, there's no need of shaking the red
rag this year. We're making a different play. We've been having our
newspapers drum hard on the tune: 'Leave it out to the people.' It'll be
Everett all right in the convention, but we don't want to seem to be
prying open their jaws and jamming him down their throats."

Thornton fingered his clippings.

"Luke, I thought you realized yesterday after that caucus of mine was
over just how sick your State campaign is. But you've started in
hollering now to try to convince yourself that it isn't so. You can't
afford to do that. I've been in this thing longer than you have. I've
seen the symptoms before. I recognize the signs of a stampede. That
convention will be ripe for one. And you know what will happen to Dave
Everett, once they get started! You and I know there ain't a thing that
can be said for him except that he's the residuary legatee of all the
machine politics that's been played in this State for the last
twenty-five years. That's between us, and you and I might as well talk
the thing as it is. She's balancing, Luke. She's right up on end. And
there'll be enough old wind-bags in that