its wide antlers above the fireplace.

"Where's the crowd that's backing you--your own boys?"

"Luke, I swear I don't know. I knew there was some growling in this
district--there always is in a district. A man like Ivus Niles would
growl about John the Baptist, if he came back to earth and went in for
politics. But this thing, here, gets me!" He turned to the window once
more. "There's men out there I thought I could reckon on like I'd tie to
my own grandson, and they're standing with their mouths open, whooping
on that old blatherskite."

Chairman Presson went and stood with him at the window, hands in
trousers pockets, chinking loose silver and staring gloomily through the
dusty panes.

"It's hell to pave this State, and no hot pitch ready," he observed.
"I've known it was bad. I knew they meant you. I warned you they were
going to get in early and hit hard in this district--but I didn't
realize it was as bad as this. They're calling it reform, but I tell
you, Thelismer, there's big money and big men sitting back in the dark
and rubbing the ears of these prohibition pussies and tom-cats. It's a
State overturn that they're playing for!"

He began to stride around the big room. In two of the corners stuffed
black bears reared and grinned at each other. In opposite corners
loup-cerviers stared with unwinking eyes of glass, lips drawn over their
teeth. "I'm running across something just as savage-looking in every
political corner of this State," he muttered, "and the trouble is those
outside of here are pretty blame much alive."