find that there's no need to defend myself any longer, because it
makes all your weapons ineffective. I believe the trouble with you,
Mr. Knowles, is that you've never realized that politicians are human
beings. But we are: we breathe and laugh and like to do right, like
other folks. And, like most men, you've thought you were different
from other men, and you aren't. So, here you are. I believe you said
you'd had a hard night?"

Knowles looked up at last, his lips working for a while before he
could speak. "I'll resign now--if you'll--if you'll let me off," he
said.

Gorgett shook his head. "I've got the election in my hand," he
answered, "though you fellows don't know it. You've got nothing to
offer me, and you couldn't buy me if you had."

At that, Knowles just sank into himself with a little, faint cry, in a
kind of heap. There wasn't anything but anguish and despair _to_
him. Big tears were sliding down his cheeks.

I didn't say anything. Gorgett sat looking at him for a good while;
and then his fat chin began to tremble a little and I saw his eyes
shining in the shadow under his old hat-brim.

He got up and went over to Farwell with slow steps and put his hand
gently on his shoulder.

"Go on home to your wife," he said, in a low voice that was the
saddest I ever heard. "I don't bear you any ill-will in the
world. Nobody's going to give you away."