, crying greetings, mumbling confidential asides. An observer who
did not understand would find it all as aimless as the activity of an
ant-heap--as puzzling as the slow writhings of a swarm of bees. Clouds
of cigar smoke over all--voices blended into one continual diapason;
medley, and miasma of close human contact.

After supper, in the crowded hotel dining-room, Harlan Thornton
accompanied his grandfather through the press of jostling men.

The night before a State Convention was a new experience for him. He
walked behind the Duke, who made his slow, urbane way here and there,
drawling good-humored replies to salutations. He had quip ready for
jest, handclasp for his intimates, tactful word for the newer men who
were dragged forward to meet him. Even the Governor of the State, a
ponderous dignitary with a banner of beard, did not receive so hearty a
welcome, for the Governor was accorded only the perfunctory adulation
given to one whose reign was passing.

"Governors come and Governors go, Thornton, but you've got where you're
an institution!" cried one admirer. "I'll be sorry to miss you out of
the legislature this winter."

"But here's another Thornton--and you can see that he won't rattle
'round in the seat," returned the Duke, his arm affectionately about his
grandson's shoulders.

As he went about, in this unobtrusive way, varying his manner with
different men, he presented his political heir.

At that hour there was no surface hint of the factional spirit that
divided the gathering which had flocked from the ends of the State.
Jealousy, spite, apprehension, rivalry were hidden under the gayety of
men meeting after long separation. The political kinship of party men
dominated all else in those early hours. It was a reunion. Food nestled
comfortably under the waistbands. Tobacco--cigars exchanged, lights
borrowed from glowing tips--loaned its solace. Bickerings were in
abeyance. Men were sizing up. Men were trying out each other. Courtesy
invites confidences. The candidates had not "taken their corners." The
suites that they had selected for headquarters were now occupied only by
the lieutenants who were arranging the boxes of cigars and stacking the
literature ready for distribution.

The Hon. David Everett, serene in the consciousness of approval by his
party machine, held preliminary court in one corner of the spacious
office lobby. The State chairman was with him--his executioner skilfully
disguised.