Walford got up from his chair and closed the door.  He returned and sat down again.

“Dick, politics is politics, and its ways are dark and mysterious, like the heathen Chinee.  If I had your talent—­if I had your ability to earn money, I’d walk out of this office this moment.  But I am only a poor devil of a newspaper man.  I’ve a family.  When I was twenty, eighteen years ago, I was earning twelve a week; to-day it is forty; when I am sixty it will return to twelve.  You know the business; you know the value they set on a man’s brains in this city.  And there’s always somebody waiting for your shoes.  Now, listen.  In the first place I must live, and as honorably as environment permits me.  By conviction I am a Democrat; I believe in the Democratic principles.  Thus, I consider it my duty to thwart, if possible, any and all moves the Republican party makes.  I recognize your strength, and I shall do what I can from my side of the barricade to defeat your nomination at the Republican convention; for I believe you able, if once nominated, to lead your party to success and victory.  But I shall fight you honestly, Dick.  In all I have said so far, there has been no innuendo; I’ve stood out in the open.  I did you a good turn this morning, but you will never be any the wiser.  Personally, I like you; I have always liked you, and I am glad to see one man of the craft rise above the grubs and earn a splendid competence.  It hasn’t been easy, Dick; you’ve had to fight for it, and that’s what I admire.  You’re a good, clean fighter.  If I should rebel against continuing this attack against you, the attack would go on, but I shouldn’t.  That would do neither of us any good.  McQuade might find a man with less scruples than I have.  And that’s how the matter stands, Dick.”

“Well, you’re frank and honest about it, and I know you will at least give me a square deal, in the event of my nomination.”

“You may reckon on that.  Good luck to you and bad luck to your cause.”

They talked about the old days for a while, and then Warrington departed and directed his steps to the office of the Journal, the paper in which he had begun his career.  Oh, here they were willing to do anything in their power from now on.  If he was really determined to accept the nomination, they would aid him editorially.  That evening the editor made good his word, frankly indorsing Warrington as the best possible choice for Republican nominee.  The editor explained his former attitude by setting forth his belief that Mr. Warrington’s candidacy was not serious.  At the office of the Telegraph they treated him cordially enough.  They never meddled with politics till the fight was on.  Then they picked the candidate whose views most coincided with their own.  If Mr. Warrington was nominated, doubtless they would support his ticket.  The general manager had been a classmate of Warrington’s.  He called on him and explained his errand.  The manager simply wrote on a pad:  “McQuade owns fifty-five per cent. of the shares,” held it under Warrington’s nose and then tore it up.