The Ramrodders Part 16

He was inclined to be a little defiant, too, fighting the battles of the property owners, even though his own pocket must suffer by the settlement.

But the Duke preserved his unruffled demeanor. He slowly made some figures on the bottoms of the papers and pa.s.sed the sheets to his grandson.

"Fill in the checks and bring them out here and I'll sign 'em," he directed. And as Harlan bent over him, he whispered: "You're playing good politics now, boy. Stand up for the under dog. I see you're remembering that you're a candidate."

"I'm only doing what's right," protested the young man.

"When you can be right and still play politics, you're getting ahead fast," murmured the Duke. "Fill in the checks!"

"But you've increased their own appraisal! You're giving them more than they've asked for!" Harlan was careless of the presence of the three farmers.

"Well, wasn't it your own suggestion that we use these men right?"

demanded his grandfather. He gazed benignantly on the claimants. "I'm square, myself, when it comes to my debts, boys. You all know that. But Harlan argued your case last night in a way that's worth the extra money. If he can do that here at home, first crack out of the box, when it's our own money at stake, don't you think he'll do a pretty good job for you down at the State House, where it'll be a case of the public money?"

His grandson had gone into the house. He had found himself at a loss for words, suddenly.

"Harlan is as straight as a stilya'd, and allus has been," admitted one of the men, gratefully. He was wondering how much the Duke had added to the amount.

"All of you think now that a fellow like that will make a pretty good sort of a representative, don't you?"

They muttered a.s.sent.

"Well, why did you back-district chaps come in here yesterday and try to lick him in the caucus?"

They had no answer ready. They looked at the porch floor, and rasped their hard hands together and cracked their knuckles in embarra.s.sment.

The old man kept his complacency.

"I'll tell you how it was, boys. You got fooled, now, didn't you? You let 'em use you like old Samson used the foxes. Now, the next time one of those disturber fellows ties a blazing pine knot to your tail, you sit right down and gnaw the string in two before you start to run.

Because a man holds office it's no sign he's a renegade. You'll usually find the renegades standing outside and slandering him and trying to get his office away for their own use. They got you going, didn't they, when they went around telling that I thought I owned you in this district, body and soul? Got you jealous and suspicious and mad? Can you afford to be jealous and mad when you've got a fellow like Harlan Thornton willing to go down to the legislature and work for you? Do you want one of those blatherskites to represent you? Now tell me!"

"Poor men that have to work all the time don't have the chance to look into public things as much as they ought to," said one of the men, apologetically. "And sometimes when a fellow comes around who can talk smooth we get fooled."

"You've bought a lot of fake things from travelling agents in this county. Now don't buy fake politics," He took the checks from his grandson's hand. Harlan had brought them, and a pen. He c.o.c.ked his knee and scrawled his signature. They came to him and took their checks. Each stood there, holding the slip of paper awkwardly pinched between thumb and forefinger. The Duke waited.

"I want to say this," stammered the spokesman. "You get fooled sometimes. Most often in politics. But no one can fool us again--not about the Thornton family."

"Pa.s.s that word around the district, boys," advised the Duke, complacently. "There's an election coming, you know."

They departed, three new and promising evangelists.

"Campaign expenses, bub," broke in the old man, when Harlan began; "campaign expenses! It's a soggy lump of dough out back there. That kind of yeast will lighten it."

He looked across at the hills, squinting reflectively again, and at last glanced up at his grandson, who stood regarding him with thoughtful hesitation.

"Say it, boy!" he counselled. "A little more bile left over from yesterday?"

"No, sir! Not that. But I think I'll send Ben Kyle in with the crews and let him locate the new camps."

"I didn't intend to have you go back--not if you'd listen to me. We've got men enough to attend to that sort of work, Harlan. I want you with me for a while. I've got some plans for you."

"And I've got a few plans for myself. Now that I'm in this, I propose to be in it in earnest."

"You wouldn't be a Thornton if you didn't get at it all over," commended the Duke. "You see, I understood you, boy!"

"I'm going to call on every man in this district and tell him where I stand. I'm going to tell him that if there are honest men in that legislature I propose to be counted in with them. I may be a very humble helper, but I'm going to lift with all my strength, grandfather, on the square-deal end of every proposition that I find to lay hold of."

"Good politics, boy, all good politics!" declared the old man. With humor that had a little malicious fun in it he avoided endorsing this impulsive zeal as anything except shrewd playing of his own game. But his eyes told the young man what his lips did not utter. There was pride in them, encouragement, joy that would not be hidden--and something else: wistful regret, perhaps; it seemed to be that--the regret that age feels when it has lost its illusions and beholds them springing again in the heart of fervent youth; regret conscious that in its turn this new faith in things present and things to come will be dead and cold, too.

"I don't think we have to worry much about the election, Harlan. Go out and tackle the boys. You'll make good. Take two days. That'll be time enough. And then I want you."

Harlan's eyes questioned him.

"You know I opened up a little to you last night, bub. You're all I've got, you know. I've not been much of a hand to talk. I don't believe you've realized just how I've felt. But we'll let it stand as it is.

I've got plans for you, boy, better than the little pancake politics of this district. I know a few things in politics. I'm old enough to understand how to put you in right. It's one thing to know how, and it's another thing to find occasion just ripe and ready."

He rolled his cigar to the centre of his mouth and lifted the corners in an illuminating grin.

"Bub, in two days be ready to come with me. I'm going to put you in right!"

CHAPTER X

A POLITICAL CONVERT

For two days Harlan Thornton rode about over the Fort Canibas district.

He talked to men at their doors, in their shops, over the fences of their fields. He knew that some sneered at him behind his back. Some even dared to arraign him, boldly and angrily, and flung his motives in his face, accusing the grandfather of inciting the grandson to this attempt to catch votes.

He realized that most of the voters did not understand him aright. They did not understand sincerity in politics. But his own consciousness of rect.i.tude supplied his consolation and provided his impetus. Till then he had employed the Thornton grit only in his business efforts; he employed it now with just as much vigor in his proselyting. Once in the fight, he was awake to what it meant. His frank earnestness impressed those with whom he talked. He did not lose his temper, when men a.s.sailed him and tried to discredit his protestations. Here and there, in neighborhoods, knots of farmers gathered about him and listened. He began to win his way, and he knew it. The knowledge that Harlan Thornton was a square man in business needed no herald in that section.

That this integrity would extend to his politics grew into belief more and more as he went about.

The distrust of him, because of his a.s.sociations, a suspicion fostered by the paid agents of the opposition, began to give way before his calm, earnest young manhood. But in every knot of men he found a few bitter irreconcilables still. They were those whom change invites, and the established order offends. One man, unable to provoke him by vituperation, and in a frenzy of childish rage because Harlan's calm poise was not disturbed by his outpourings, ran at him and struck him.

He was a little man, and though he leaped when he struck, the blow landed no higher than the shoulder that Harlan turned to him. And when he leaped again the young man caught him by the wrist and smiled down on him, unperturbed.

"If that's the way you talk politics, Sam, I'll have to adjourn the debate," he said, quietly. And the story of that went the rounds, accompanied by much laughter, and the big, st.u.r.dy, serene young man who was master of his own pa.s.sions met smiles wherever he went.

Another story preceded him, too. "Fighting" MacCracken, of the Jo Quacca neighborhood, smarting ever since that day in the yard of "The Barracks," jealous of his prestige as a man of might, offered obscene and brutal insult to the name of Thelismer Thornton in the hearing of his grandson. It had been hinted previously along the border that the six-foot scion of the Thorntons was a handy man in a sc.r.a.p, but now his prowess was surely established. MacCracken went about, a living advertis.e.m.e.nt of how effectually righteous anger can back up two good fists.

Therefore, respect attended on good-humor and went with, or ahead of, the candidate.

He wondered at himself sometimes. He hardly understood the zeal that now animated him, so sudden a convert. But the zest of youth was in him; the spirit of the toil of the big woods, of the race with drought when the drives are going down, the everlasting struggle with nature's forces, the rivalry between man and man where accomplishment that bulks large in the eyes of men is the only accomplishment that counts--all these spurred him to make good, now that he had begun. In the open arena of life his training had been that of man to man, and the best man taking the prize. And his reading during the long evenings had been more in the way of education in public matters than he had realized. As for ideals, he had followed the masterful men who preached a gospel that appealed to him, living the life of the open, battling for the weak against the selfishly strong--so it seemed to the one who studied their achievements on the printed page. With his own opportunity now thrust upon him, Harlan Thornton determined to make candor his code, honesty his system.

He entertained no false ideas of his personal importance. But his lack of experience did not daunt him. He simply made up his mind that he would go forward, keeping soul and heart open, as well as eyes and ears.

He believed that the square deal could not be hidden from those who entered public life in that manner.

He did not discuss all this with his grandfather. If he had, Thelismer Thornton would have been vastly interested. He might have been amused.

Probably he would have been more amused than interested, for hot youth and glowing ideals have humorous phases for the man who has lived among men for more than eighty years.