"I never shall forget my friends. And I can't believe that you heard right, little girl. My grandfather will not put me in politics. Don't worry. I'll straighten it all out before I leave." He lifted her to her horse and sent her away with a pat. She went unprotesting, with a trustful smile. The hounds raced wildly after her. "Woof!" remarked the Hon. Luke Presson to himself, "there's a kitten that's been fed on plenty of raw meat!" And as he always compared all women with his daughter, reigning beauty of the State capital, he added: "I'd like to have Madeleine get a glimpse of that. She'd be glad that it's the style to bring girls up on a cream diet." He hurried away behind Harlan, who had given him rather curt greeting, and had followed the Duke around to the front of the house. The old man was tramping the porch from end to end. The boarding creaked under him as he strode, his gait a lurch that moved one side of his body at a time. The smoke from his cigar streamed past his ears. It was silent at the front of the big house, and in that silence the three of them could hear the occasional shouts that greeted demagogic oratory down in the village. The comment of the lord of Canibas was the anathema that he growled to himself. His grandson faced him twice on his turns along the porch, protest in his demeanor. But the old man brushed past. "Grandfather, I want a word with you," Harlan ventured at last. "You talk girl to me just now, young fellow, and you won't find it safe!" He marched on, and the grandson resolutely waited his return. "I'm going to talk business, sir. I want this thing understood. Is it true what I hear? Do you propose to put my name before that caucus? I want to say--" But the old man strode away from him again. "He says he's going to do it, and it's fool business," confided Presson. "You've got to stop him. There's no reason in it." "I've got _my_ reasons. If you don't know enough to see 'em, it isn't my fault," snapped the Duke, passing them and overhearing. "Then I've got this to say." The young man stopped his grandfather--as big, as determined, as passionate--Thornton against Thornton. "I'll not go to the legislature." The old man shouted his reply. "I don't know as you will, you tote-road mule, you! But, by the suffering Herod, they'll have to show _me_ first!" He elbowed his grandson aside and kept on pacing the porch. CHAPTER IV THE DUKE AT BAY After that outburst Presson went away by himself to sulk. Young Thornton made no further protest. He stared at his grandfather, trying to comprehend what it meant--this bitterness, this savage resentment, this arbitrary authority that took no heed of his own wishes. He had always known a calm, kindly, sometimes caustic, but never impatient Thelismer Thornton. This old man, surly, domineering, and unreasonable, was new to him. And after a little while, worried and saddened, he went away. His presence seemed to stir even more rancor as the moments passed.