"There are times, Gantry, when you seem to be losing your grip. Dave
Blount's son isn't a school-boy, to be fooled by such a transparent
trick as that! Don't you suppose he knows, as well as you do, that the
public notice has to be filed in every station on the road?"
"I had to take a chance--I've had to take a good many chances,"
protested the traffic manager in his own defence; and Kittredge, a
bearded giant who was fully the vice-president's match in heroic
physique, removed his cigar to say: "That young fellow has been a
frost. If he isn't a wild-eyed fanatic, as Gantry insists he is, he is
deeper than the deep blue sea! I'd just about as soon have a box of
dynamite kicking around underfoot as to have him messing in this
campaign fight. I've been keeping cases on him, as you ordered, and he
has worn out three of my best office men on the job."
"You are prejudiced, Kittredge," was the vice-president's comment. "It
was the best move in the entire campaign--putting him in the field.
Apart from the public sentiment he has been turning our way, we mustn't
lose sight of the fact that we got hold of him at a time when the
Honorable Senator was getting ready to turn us down."
"Speaking of the sentiment," Gantry put in, "I don't know whether it's
all sentiment or not. There's a sort of mystery mixed up in this
speech-making business of Blount's.
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