In a voice deep and resonant in spite of his weakness he began his brief statement. The listeners below and the great crowds in the convention hall down in the city sat breathless. After outlining his purposes toward the party in case he were selected, he summarized his finding in the water power problem in words eloquent for their simple clearness. Finally came the closing section in which he was to give his long awaited policy. His councilors listening downstairs, who had worked with him over the manuscript, knew his suggestion for a long term nonpartisan commission by heart. But as he began this section they heard words strangely unfamiliar. They stared at each other in amazement. Down in the convention hall it was as though the assemblage had been struck by a bolt of lightning. They heard Hammond, the supposed scientific progressive, deliberately proposing as his conclusions that the State keep its hands off the water power forever, and leave it in the grasp of the present private corporations. As his words ceased, it was evident that in a few brief sentences, Hammond had torn down all the esteem that he had built up, and with it his hopes of the nomination. There was a moment of silence in the great hall, and then pandemonium broke loose. Boss Quaid and Barney Fogarty pounded each other on the backs and shouted with glee. Hammond had gone further than Quaid in his most arrogant moments had ever dared go. “The guy’s gone crazy!” Barney roared. “Barney, you’re right,” roared the big fellow. In the Hammond farmhouse the doctor came out of the speaker’s room to face a horrified group. “Doctor--has it been too much for him? Is he delirious?” Mrs. Hammond gasped. “Oh, no; he’s all right. Seems to be a great relief to him to get it off his mind,” the doctor reassured her. “But, doctor, you heard what he said at the last!” Hammond’s partner insisted. “Altogether different from what he’d planned.” “Oh, I didn’t notice what he said,” the doctor told him calmly. “I was busy counting his heart beats.” V A few minutes later, down in the city, little Jim Neenan drove hurriedly up to the hotel where Forsythe had headquarters, leaped from his car and made his way up to the Forsythe suite with all speed. Forsythe was closeted in his private office, going over for the last time, the address that he was to deliver over the radio in a few minutes, but Jim burst in on him unannounced. “Now do you owe me the two grand?” he demanded triumphantly. “I do not! What for? Get out of here. Can’t you see I’m busy!” Forsythe snapped at him. “What for?” Neenan snarled. “Why, for putting Hammond out of the running! Didn’t you know I did it?” Forsythe stared at him in contempt. “You did it!” he sneered. “That’s a delightful bluff, but I’m too busy to be amused. I don’t owe you two thousand dollars, and never will. Now get out, I tell you.” “But listen, I can prove--” Neenan got no further. Forsythe stood over him menacingly.