“Staatz,” observed the Railroader, as the hubbub at length died down, “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a wee peckle longer for that leadership. But cheer up. Everything comes to the man who waits—till no one else wants it. I’ve got one thing more to say, and then my ‘talking’ will be done for good, as far as you men are concerned. I had a kennel of dogs once, on my place here. A whole lot of pedigreed, high-priced whelps that it cost me a fortune to buy. I thought maybe I’d enjoy their society. It was so much sensibler’n politicians’. But somehow after a while I got tired of ’em. For they didn’t take to me, not from the first. Animals don’t, as a rule. Every now and then when I’d go to their enclosure they’d forget to mind me, and once or twice they combined and tried to get me down and throttle me. Of course I could lash ’em into minding, and I could lash all the fight out of ’em when they started for my throat. And I did. But by and by I got tired of having to lick the brutes every few days in order to make ’em treat me decent. They weren’t worth the trouble. So I got rid of them. Just as I’m going to get rid of you fellers, and for the same good reason. I resign. I’m out of politics for good. As far as I’m concerned the Machine is smashed for all time. Now clear out of here, the whole kennelful of you. Be on your way!” Stilling the furious volley of protest that had arisen on all sides at his announcement, Caleb flung open the outer door of his study. Several of the dazed politicians essayed to speak, but the quick gleam in their self-deposed Leader’s eye halted the words ere they were spoken. Obedient, cowed to the last, the Machine’s officers and henchmen finally yielded to that look and to the peremptory gesture of the Railroader’s arm. One by one they filed out, Staatz in the van, Bourke with averted gaze slinking along in the rear. With a grunt of ultimate dismissal Conover closed the door. Glancing over the scene of the late conflict before departing for his ride, his glance fell on a solitary, ill-dressed figure seated at one corner of the deserted table. “Billy!” exclaimed Conover, exasperated, “why didn’t you get out with the rest!” “’Cause I don’t belong with that cheapskate push. I belong here with you, Boss.” “But I’m out of it, you idiot. Out of the game for good and all. I’m leaving Granite.” “When do we start?” Conover looked at his little henchman in annoyance that merged into a vexed laugh. “I tell you,” he repeated, “I’m out of politics for good.”