leaving for quite a spell."

The chairman knew his man. He trotted down the steps and got into his
car.

"When you get ready to let me know how you're running this campaign,
you'll find me at headquarters," he said, wrathfully, by way of
farewell. Then he departed, with the news of how Thelismer Thornton was
still boss of the northern principality--but that Thelismer Thornton,
Nestor of State politicians, had calmly arrogated to himself the sole
handling of the biggest question in State politics, the chairman kept to
himself. He was in too desperate straits to rebel at that time.
Furthermore, he knew that Thelismer Thornton in the years past had
served as kedge for many a political craft that a lee shore threatened.
He was measurably contented, after reflection, to have the old man take
the thing into his own hands in that masterful fashion.

The Duke pulled his chair to the end of the porch, where he could look
across to the far hills beyond the river. He lighted one of his long
cigars, put his feet on the rail, and began to smoke, squinting
thoughtfully, pondering deeply.

To all practical intents and purposes he was holding there on the porch
of "The Barracks" the next State convention of the Republican party. The
birds were busy about the old blockhouse opposite, coming and going. He
seemed to be studying their movements through his half-open eyes, as
though they were prospective delegates. And at last a grim smile of
satisfaction fixed itself upon his face.

His grandson found him in this amiable mood when he came with the losers