"Oh, it needn't go into too many details. Just what you might call a ringing declaration about this being the greatest era of prosperity Whitewater has ever known, and that you conceive it to be the duty of your administration to protect and stimulate this prosperity. The people will understand, and the organization will understand. I guess you get what I mean, George." "Yes, I get what you mean!" exploded George, his fist crashing upon the table. "You mean you want me to be a complacent accessory to all the legal evasions that you and your political gang and the rich bunch behind you may want to get away with! You want me to be a crook in office! By God, Doolittle----" "Shut up, Remington," snapped the political boss, his soft manner now vanished, his whole aspect now grimly menacing. "I know the rest of what you're going to say. I was pretty certain what it 'ud be before I came here, but I had to know for sure. Well, I know now, all right!" His lank jaws snapped again. "Since you are not going to represent the people that put you up, I demand your written withdrawal as candidate for the district attorney's office." "And I refuse to give it!" cried George. "I was nominated by a convention, not by you. And I don't believe the party is as crooked as you--anyhow I'm going to give the decent members of the party a chance to vote decently! And you can't remove me from the ballot, either, for the ballot is already printed and----" "That'll do you no----" "I thought some time ago I was through with this political mess," George drove on. "But, Doolittle, damn you, I've just begun to get in it! And I'm going to see it through to the finish!" Suddenly a thin little figure thrust itself between the bellicose pair and began shaking George's hand. It was Martin Jaffry. "George--I guess I'm my share of an old scoundrel--and a trimmer--but hearing some one stand up and talk man's talk--" He broke off to shake George's hand again. "I thought you were the king of boobs--but, boy, I'm with you to wherever you want to go--if my money will last that far!" "Keep out of this, Jaffry," roughly growled Doolittle. "It's too late for your dough to help this young pup. Remington, we may not take you off the ballot, but the organization kin send out word to the boys----" "To knife me! Of course, I expect that! All right--go to it! But I'm on the ballot--you can't deprive people of the chance of voting for me. And I shall announce myself an independent and shall run as one!"