The State chairman was stirred as though galvanically by that statement.  The bitter memory of how he had groomed the dark horse that was now kicking his master’s political brains out rose in him.

“By the everlasting gods,” he shouted, “I’ll go down fighting!  If the house has got to come down, I’ll go down with it.”

“Samson had two arms.  I have only one,” returned General Waymouth.  “But I’ve got that arm around the central pillar of your political roof, gentlemen—­and I’ve got the strength to handle it!  You’ve stated your position as a politician, Presson.  Now I’ll state mine.  Rather than see the Republican temple made any longer a house of political ill-fame I’ll pull it down on you prostitutes.”

It was bitter taunt—­an insult delivered with calm determination to sting.  Presson stamped about the room in his wrath.

“I’m making no pact or promise,” went on the General.  “I declare that you are the men who are wrecking our party.  Now if you propose to wreck it completely, we’ll go smashing all together in the ruins.  It may as well be wrecked now as later!”

There was another hush in the room.

“So I call upon you, men of office, shop, and farm, bone and sinew of our grand old party,” exhorted Senator Pownal from the forum outside, “to forget the petty bickerings of faction and stand shoulder to shoulder in your march to the polls.  Nail the principles of justice, truth, and honesty to the flagstaff, and follow behind that banner, winning the suffrages of those who believe in the right.”

“It sounds as though the Senator might be arriving close to his amen,” suggested General Waymouth, ironically.  “You have only a few minutes in which to decide.  I hold the proxy of one of these delegates to the convention.”  He pointed to one of the stolid and plain men.  “You know that I can get the ear of that convention—­you can’t work any gag-rule on me—­I have been listened to too often by the men of this State when I’ve had something to say.  And you know what effect these affidavits will have!”

There was further silence, broken only by the voice of the Senator without and Presson within, who was scuffling about, babbling disjointed oaths.

Suddenly a great outburst of applause signified that the Senator had concluded.

“Go ahead out and kill your party!” barked Presson.  “Give it your strychnine!  It may as well die right now, in a spasm, as to have a lingering death later with you at the head of it, Waymouth.  You can’t team me!”

“You let me say a word right here!” blustered Everett.  “I wash my hands of any deal with Spinney.  I’ve got the bulk of that convention behind me.  I don’t propose to be shunted.”

“I supposed you all remembered the details of what you did last evening,” returned the General, coldly.  “Is it necessary for me to remind you, Mr. Everett, that Chairman Presson turned over to Spinney a paper in which you agreed to appoint him to a State office?  That transaction was noted along with the rest, sir.”