Presson started to say something, but the General stopped him.

“One moment, Mr. Chairman.  Let me tell you what I have done.  One of us at a time!  When I’ve told you what I’ve done, you can tell me what you’ve attended to.  I have those names, I have pledges of support, I have plans for getting out the vote.  But I have no literature for distribution to those doubtful voters, I have no speakers assigned by the State Committee to help the men who are trying to get the vote out, I have no fund provided for the usual expenses.  Now I will listen to you, Mr. Chairman.  Will you tell me what you have done?”

“It’s an off year, General Waymouth,” said Presson.  “I asked the Congressional Committee for money, but I couldn’t interest ’em.  And I’ll tell you frankly that the regular sources in this State are dry.  There isn’t the usual feeling.  You’re a good politician.  Perhaps you know why it’s so.”

“You haven’t answered my question, sir.  I asked you what your State Committee has done.”

“What is there we can do when every interest in this State sits back on its wallet like a hen squatting on the roost, and won’t stand up and let go until some assurances are given out?  It isn’t my fault!  I went to you!  I laid the case down!  You didn’t give me anything to carry back to ’em.”

“I’m here to talk business, Mr. Chairman.  You are too vague.”

“Well, I’ll talk business, too.”  Presson snapped out of his chair.  He stood up and wagged his finger.  He was too angry to choose words or gloss brutal facts.

“You want to be Governor, don’t you?  You’re asking men to support you and back you with money?  That’s what it amounts to.  Campaign funds don’t come down like manna—­there’s nothing heavenly about ’em—­and you know it as well as I do, General.  You’ve scared Senator Pownal’s crowd with that anti-water-power-trust talk; they’ve got money to put into the legislature, but none for you.  The corporations won’t do anything; your tax commission talk has given them cold feet as far’s you’re concerned.  Even the office-holders are sore; you’ve been talking about abolishing fees, and if that’s the case they’d just as soon give up the offices.  And where’s your party, then?  You say you’re going to enforce the prohibitory law!  I can get a little money out of the express companies, the jobbers in gallon lots, and the fellows that get the promise of the State liquor agency contracts.  But the big wholesalers, the liquor men’s associations, the retailers—­the whole bunch that’s got the real money and is willing to spend it haven’t a cent for you—­they’ll even back the Democrat against you!  You wanted business talk.  There it is.”

He strode up and down the centre of the room in agitation, and then sat down.

The other committeemen sighed with relief.  Their chairman had said what they wanted to say, said it bluntly and boldly, and they were glad it was over.