sent for him.

Then he set his broad shoulders against the door, for fists had begun to
hammer at it.

It was evident at once that Spinney recognized the nature of the
conference that had assembled in General Waymouth's room, and knew what
the personnel of the group signified.

He looked around him and started toward the door.

"I've got witnesses to that assault, and you're going to suffer for it,"
he blustered. Harlan did not give way.

"You can't leave here yet, Mr. Spinney--not until General Waymouth
finishes his business with you."

The General had viewed Mr. Spinney's headlong arrival with astonishment.
He stepped forward to the centre of the room. There was a note in his
voice that quelled the man as much as had Harlan's resolute demeanor at
the door.

"Spinney, it will be better for you if you listen."

The candidate turned to face him, apprehensive and defiant at the same
time. The panels of the door against which Harlan leaned were jarred by
beating fists. Harlan heard the voice of his grandfather outside,
calling to him impatiently. A moment more, and Chairman Presson added a
more wrathful admonition to open.

"Mr. Thornton, will you kindly inform those people at the door that this
is my room, and that I command them to withdraw?" directed General
Waymouth.

Harlan flung the door open and filled the space with the bulk of his
body. Both parties stood revealed to each other, the young man dividing
them, and disdaining intrenchments.

"What kind of a crazy-headed, lumber-jack performance are you
perpetrating here?" demanded the elder Thornton. "You're not handling
Canucks to-day, you young hyena!"

"This is a scandal--a disgrace to this convention!" thundered Presson.
He started to come in, but Harlan barred the doorway with body and arms.

"Do you want any of these gentlemen inside, General?" he asked.

"Neither Mr. Presson, nor Mr. Thornton, nor any of the rest," declared
Waymouth. "And I want that disturbance at my door stopped."

"You hear that!" cried the defender of the pass. "Now, Mr. Presson, if
you intend to disgrace this convention by a riot, it's up to you to
start it." And then the choler and the hot blood of his youth spoke. He
did not pick his words. His opinion of them was seething within him. He
talked as he would talk to a lumber-crew. "I'm keeping this door, and
I'm man enough for all the pot-bellied politicians you can crowd into
this corridor. And if there's any more hamme