“My boys,” he said, earnestly, “a week ago I didn’t think I wanted to be Governor of this State again.  But I want that office now with the whole strength of my soul.  The devil is running our State to-day through his agents.  I’ve got a duty to perform.  I haven’t time now to tell you what I’ve discovered since you left my room.  I want you to—­”

“I ask your pardon for interrupting, General,” said Linton, manfully, “but I want to be as square with you as I can.  Interests that belong to others will suffer if I continue with you—­things being as they are.  I make haste to speak before you tell me any more.  I ask to be released.”

“As a soldier I might question a resignation on the eve of battle, but as a politician I want no half-heartedness in my ranks.  Good-day, Mr. Linton.”  He stood very erect, and his air admitted no further explanation.  Linton bowed, and went out of the room.

“There is no half-heartedness here!” cried Harlan, passionately.  “Is there anything I can do, General Waymouth?”

“Go and bring Arba Spinney to this room at once.  Understand the situation before you go:  I have already sent men for him.  He has refused to come.  Tell him this is his last opportunity to save himself from such deep disgrace that it will drive him from his State.  I wish I could tell you to take him by the collar and lug him here.  I venture to say you have the muscle, young man.  But minutes are valuable—­bring him.”

Harlan hurried away.

Mr. Spinney was not in evidence in the parlor of his suite, but Harlan heard his tremendous voice in the bedroom—­that voice could not be softened even in an exigency.

Several men whom Harlan recognized as members of the State Committee were seated near the door; and when he approached to knock, one of them informed him that Mr. Spinney was too busy to be seen.

“But my business is important.”

“What sort of business is it?”

“Is Mr. Spinney afraid of visitors?” demanded the young man.  His mien impressed the men.  They knew that he was Thelismer Thornton’s grandson.  They conversed among themselves in whispers.  Without waiting, and before they could stay him, he flung open the door.

Spinney stopped in his discourse with several men, and faced about apprehensively.  He, too, recognized the young man, and was unable to decide whether to class him with friends or foes.

“Mr. Spinney, I have been sent to bring you with me instantly.  Will you come?”

“Where?”

“It’s a matter for your ear, sir.  But you must come.”

The men with Spinney promptly counselled him to remain where he was, but the candidate was impressed by the young man’s determined appearance.  Harlan strode to him, and took him by the arm.  He had been used to the command of men since boyhood.  “I have some very positive instructions.  It will be a serious matter for you, Mr. Spinney, if you don’t come—­and you can’t afford to take the advice of these men here.”