The old man threw up both his hands and cracked his fingers into his
palms. "And you're ready to take pap and paregoric from the first that
come along, you infants!"

"You're showing yourself now, Duke Thornton!" shouted Niles. "You've
used us like you'd use school-boys for fifty years, but you ain't dared
to brag of it till now!"

Thornton strode out from among them. He tossed his big arms as though
ridding himself of annoying insects. He had been stung out of
self-control. It was not that he felt contempt for his people. He had
always felt for them that sense of protection one assumes who has taken
office from voters' hands for many years, has begged appropriations from
the State treasury for them, has taken in hand their public affairs and
administered them without bothering to ask advice. He realized all at
once that jealousy and ingratitude must have been in their hearts for a
long time. Now some influence had made them bold enough to display their
feelings. Thornton had seen that sort of revolt many times before in the
case of his friends in the public service. He had always felt pride in
the belief that his own people were different--that his hold on them was
that of the patriarch whom they loved and trusted.

The shock of it! He kept his face from them as he toiled up the steps of
the old house. Tears sparkled in his eyes, sudden tears that astonished
him. For a moment he felt old and broken and childish, and was not
surprised that they had detected the weakness of a failing old man. He
would have gone into "The Barracks" without showing them his face, but
on the porch he was forced to turn. Some one had arrived, and arrived
tempestuously. It was the Hon. Luke Presson, Chairman of the State
Committee. He stepped down out of his automobile and walked around the