“Don’t let a few little cranky notions about a platform scare you,” he mumbled in the Senator’s ear.  “You know Vard Waymouth as well as I do.  He’s safe and all right.  Give him his head.  You don’t want Spinney, do you?”

“But that was devilish insulting,” growled Pownal.

“Tipping backward a little, trying to stand straight, that’s all.  Blast it, a Governor can’t run the State.  What are you afraid of?  You’ve got a lobby and a legislature, haven’t you?”

If Waymouth noticed this sotto voce conference he gave no sign.

“General,” said Pownal, getting hold of himself manfully, even desperately, “the resolution is not essential.  I fear you misunderstand what it really means, but we’ll not discuss it now.  I withdraw it.”

The General bowed acknowledgment, and signed to Wasgatt to resume.

“’We believe in dividing the burden of taxation equitably and justly, and will bend our efforts to that end.’”

“That is simply empty vaporing!” cried the General.  “And it has been in every platform for twenty years without meaning anything.  The platform that I stand on this year must declare for a non-partisan tax commission, empowered to investigate conditions in this State—­wild lands, corporations, and all—­and report as a basis for new legislation.”

In the silence that ensued they could hear Arba Spinney continuing his harangue.

“Gentlemen, you’ve got to do something in this party to stop the mouths of him and men like him,” declared the General, solemnly.  “You may make up your minds that you’ve either got to pay in money, or else you’ll pay in votes that mean the bankruptcy of the party.”

“I suppose you have the resolution all drawn,” suggested Thelismer Thornton, dryly.

“I have, and drawn according to good constitutional law,” replied the General.  He drew the paper from his breast-pocket.

“Incorporate it, Wasgatt, ready for the final draft, and we’ll all go over the thing to-morrow morning.”  The Duke was grimly laconic.  That resolution whacked his pet interests.

Senator Pownal gave the proposer of this prompt surrender a glance of mutual sympathy out of the corner of his eye, but the Duke remained imperturbable.  Wasgatt received the paper and went on.

“’We reaffirm our belief in the principle of the prohibition of the liquor traffic, and pledge our earnest efforts to promote temperance.’”

Across the corridor revellers were bawling over and over in chorus: 

“’Let’s take a drink,
Let’s take it now,
God only knows how dry I am!’”

“That’s a good thing to reaffirm—­I don’t mean the song they’re singing in that room across there!  It’s a good thing to pledge ourselves to promote temperance,” said the General, “but that isn’t the point at issue.  I have another plank that I’ve written for our platform.”

He drew a second paper from his pocket.