Candidate Spinney had a thick packet of ribbons in one of his gesticulating hands. He was flushed, vociferous, and somewhat insolent. Like Everett, he was not analyzing the acclamation that greeted everything he said; applause had made him drunk. But under the hilarity of his listeners there was considerable enthusiasm for the man himself. The Duke perceived it, for he realized what times had come upon the State. Spinney's bombast expressed the protest that was abroad. Rebellion, thirsty, does not seek the cold spring of Reason. It fuddles itself with hot speech, it riots--it dares not pause to ponder. "The men that are running this State to-day are running it for themselves," he declaimed, as Thornton and his grandson came into the front rank of his listeners. "They want it all. I brand 'em for what they are. I could take glue and a hair-brush and make hogs out of every one of 'em!" A shout of laughter! There was more zest for the mob in the point of Mr. Spinney's remarks, with the Duke of Fort Canibas, lord of the north country, present to listen. "I'm not ashamed of my platform. I'm willing to promulgate it. For I'm going to stand behind it. It ain't a platform fixed up in a back room of this hotel the night before convention, sprung at the last minute, and worded so that it reads the same backward and forward, and doesn't mean any more than whistling a tune! What kind of a system is it that taxes the poor man's family dog, the friend of his children, a dollar, and lets the rich man's wild lands off with two mills on a valuation screwed down to pinhead size?" Applause that indicated that the bystanders owned dogs! "If you're hunting for something to tax, pick out bachelors instead of dogs. Dogs can't earn money. Bachelors can. There are forty thousand old maids and widows in this State who can't find husbands. Tax the bachelors. Give the single women a pension. Hunt out the tax-dodgers. There are things enough to tax instead of the farms and cottages of the poor men." He now fixed the Duke with his gaze. "You don't dare to deny, do you, that the system in this State is screwing the last cent out of the exposed property and letting the dodgers go free? Tax the necessities of the poor, say you! I say, tax the luxuries of the rich!" "In some countries, I believe, they get quite a revenue by taxing mustaches," stated the Duke, thus appealed to. Spinney indignantly broke in on the laughter. "You've carried off oppression so far as a joke, but you can't do it any longer, Squire Thornton. The people are awake this time. They've got done electing lawyers and dudes and land-grabbers for Governors. They're going to have a Governor that will make State officials work for fair day's wages, as the farmers and artisans work. No more high-salaried loafers in public office! No more dynasties, Sir Duke of Fort Canibas! You'll be having a coat of arms next!"