“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 convention to get up a devil of a breeze.  They’ll blow her over.”

The State chairman had started to leave, after his declaration.  His automobile was purring at the foot of the steps.  But he turned his back on the expectant chauffeur, and tramped onto the porch.

“You don’t mean to tell me that ‘Fog-horn’ Spinney is a dangerous candidate, do you?”

“No, but Everett is!  It happens once in so often, Luke—­a situation like this.  Everett is lugging too much.  Last fire we had in the village here Ed Stilson tried to lug an old-fashioned bureau on his back and a feather tick in his teeth, but he couldn’t get through the door.”

“Thelismer, why have you waited till now before saying this?  I’d rather have your judgment in political futures than that of any other man in this State.  But this is a damnation poor time to be getting around to me with it.”

“We had a caucus here yesterday, Luke, I’d only been suspecting till then.  In politics I’m quite a fellow to judge the whole piece in the web by a sample.  And I tell you Everett is going to make a dangerous proposition for us!”

Presson stared at him for a full minute, blinking, thinking, knotting his brows, and chewing fiercely on a piece of gum.

“Pull him out—­that what you mean?  Well, it can be done.  There are plenty of men in the party that are all safe and right, but haven’t been identified with the machine.”