The Duke was obliged to be contented with only that much assurance and information.

“There’s a train back to the State capital in half an hour, Thelismer,” the General stated.  “I’ll be pleased to have you go along with Harlan and myself.  If you’ll excuse me now, I’ll finish signing these letters.”

The old man was not disturbed by this abruptness.  He rose.

“I reckon you know how to play the game, Vard,” he said.  “I’m perfectly satisfied, now that I know you are playing it.  But you’ll excuse me for being a little uneasy about your starting in.”

He did not interrupt Harlan, who was busy at his desk.  He picked up one of the newspapers that covered the General’s table, and marched out into the garden.

He joined them when they came out.  The General’s old-fashioned carryall conveyed them to the railroad station.  They made the journey to the capital without a word of reference to the purpose of their trip.  Unobtrusively chatting about the old times, the Duke and his friend made their way back to their old footing.  It was mutual forbearance and forgiveness, for they were old enough to be philosophers, and especially did they understand the philosophy of politics.

Chairman Presson was in his office at his hotel when they entered.  He came out to greet General Waymouth, suave but circumspect, and furtively studied word and aspect of his visitor.

“Mr. Presson,” said the General, breaking in upon the chairman’s vague gossip regarding the political situation, “this is short notice, but I presume you can reach a few members of the State Committee by telephone.  I wish to meet them and you at my rooms in the hotel at nine this evening.  It is important.”

They came.  There were half a dozen of them—­men who hurried in from such near points as the chairman could reach; and at the appointed hour Presson ushered them into the General’s room.  Harlan Thornton was waiting there with his chief.  The Duke arrived in a few moments, alone.  He sat down at one side of the room, bearing himself with an air of judicial impartiality.  The chairman scowled at him.  Judged by recent experience, Thelismer Thornton was a questionable quantity in a conference between the machine and General Waymouth.

The committeemen took their cue from the chairman.  They were sullen.  They bristled with an obstinacy that betrayed itself in advance.

The General got down to business promptly.  It was not a gathering that invited any preamble of cheerful chat.  He understood perfectly that the men were there only because they did not dare to stay away.

“Chairman Presson, it is now close upon the election.  I have canvassed the State as best I could through the mails.  With Mr. Harlan Thornton’s assistance and through my friends in various towns, I have secured a pretty complete list of doubtful voters.  I will say in passing that I have tried to enlist the help of your town committeemen, but they seem to be asleep.  I have thanked God daily that I have personal friends willing to help me.  I have the names at last.  I have accomplished alone the work that is usually attended to by the State Committee.”