He knew that he had absolutely no ambitions, no interests in common with these schemers, whose sole idea lay in party patronage, in manipulating every political opportunity--in short, in reaping where they had sown. The question now confronting him was this: was he prepared to sell his political birthright for the mess of pottage they offered him? He stood a second at the door of the office, peering through the reeking, smoke-filled atmosphere, to get a bird's-eye view of the situation before he entered. Mr. Doolittle sat on the edge of a table monologuing to Wes' Norton and Pat Noonan. Mr. Norton was the president of the Whitewater Commercial Club, composed of the leading merchants of the town, and Mr. Noonan was the apostle of the liquor interests. Remington felt his back stiffen as he stepped among them. "Good-evening, gentlemen," he said briskly. "H'are ye, George?" drawled Doolittle. "There was something you wanted to discuss with me?" "I dunno as there's anything to discuss, but there's a few things Wes' an' Pat an' me'd like to say to ye. There ain't no two ways of thinkin' about the prosperity of Whitewater, ye know, George. The merchants in this town is satisfied with the way things is boomin'. The factory workers is gittin' theirs, with high wages an' overtime. The stockholders is makin' no kick on the dividends--as ye know, George, being one of them. "Now, we don't want nuthin' to disturb all this If the fact'ries is crackin' the law a bit, why, it ain't the first time such things has got by the inspector. The fact'ry managers'd like some assurance from ye that ye're goin' to keep yer hands off before they line up the fact'ry hands to vote for ye." Doolittle paused here. George nodded. "When are ye comin' out with a plain statement of yer intentions, George?" inquired Mr. Norton in a conciliatory tone. "The voters in this town will get a clear statement of my stand on all the issues of this campaign in plenty of time, gentlemen." "That's all right fer the voter, but ye can't stall _us_ wit' that kind of talk--" began Noonan. "Wait a minute, Pat," counseled Doolittle. "George means all right. He's new to this game, but he means to stand fer the intrusts of his party, don't ye, George?" "I should scarcely be the candidate of that party if I did not." "I ain't interested in no oratory. Are ye or are ye not goin' to keep yer hands off the prosperity of Whitewater?" demanded Noonan angrily. "Look here, Noonan, I am the candidate for this office--you're not. I intend to do as my conscience dictates. I will not be hampered at every turn, nor told what to say and what to think. I must get to these things in my own way." "Don't ye fergit that ye're _our_ candidate, that ye are to express the opinion of the people who will elect ye, and not any dam' theories of yer own----" "I think I get your meaning, Noonan."