"Just wait a second," Bruce said to his caller; and turning back to his desk he hastily scribbled a headline over an item about a case of fever down in River Court. This he sent down to the composing-room, and swung around to the old politician. "Well, now, what's up?"
"I just dropped around," said Blind Charlie, with his good-natured smile, "to congratulate you on the campaign you're making. You're certainly putting up a fine article of fight!"
"It does look as if we had a pretty fair chance of winning," returned Bruce, confidently.
"Great! Great!" said Blind Charlie heartily. "I certainly made no mistake when I picked you out as the one man that could win for us."
"Thanks. I've done my best. And I'm going to keep it up."
"That's right. I told you I looked on it as my last campaign. I'm pretty old, and my heart's not worth a darn. When I go, whether it's up or down, I'll travel a lot easier for having first soaked Blake good and proper."
Bruce did not answer. He expected Blind Charlie to leave; in fact, he wanted him to go, for it lacked but a quarter of an hour of press time. But instead of departing, Blind Charlie settled back in his chair, crossed his legs and leisurely began to cut off a comfortable mouthful from his plug of tobacco.
"Yes, sir, it's a great fight," he continued. "It doesn't seem that it could be improved on. But a little idea has come to me that may possibly help. It may not be any good at all, but I thought it wouldn't do any harm to drop in and suggest it to you."
"I'll be glad to hear it," returned Bruce. "But couldn't we talk it over, say in half an hour? It's close to press time, and I've got some proofs to look through--in fact the proof of an article on that water-works charge of mine."
"Oh, I'll only take a minute or two," said Blind Charlie. "And you may want to make use of my idea in this afternoon's paper."
"Well, go ahead. Only remember that at this hour the press is my boss."
"Of course, of course," said Blind Charlie amiably. "Well, here's to business: Now I guess I've been through about as many elections as you are years old. It isn't what the people think in the middle of the campaign that wins. It's what they think on election day. I've seen many a horse that looked like he had the race on ice at the three quarters licked to a frazzle in the home stretch. Same with candidates. Just now you look like a winner. What we want is to make sure that you'll still be out in front when you go under the wire."
"Yes, yes," said Bruce impatiently. "What's your plan?"
"You've got the people with you now," the old man continued, "and we want to make sure you don't lose 'em. This water-works charge of yours has been a mighty good move. But I've had my ear to the ground. I've had it to the ground for nigh on fifty years, and if there's any kind of a political noise, you can bet I hear it. Now I've detected some sounds which tell me that your water-works talk is beginning to react against you."
"You don't say! I haven't noticed it."
"Of course not; if you had, there'd be no use for me to come here and tell you," returned Blind Charlie blandly. "That's where the value of my political ear comes in. Now in my time I've seen many a sensation react and swamp the man that started it. That's what we've got to look out for and guard against."
"U'm! And what do you think we ought to do?"
Bruce was being taken in a little easier than Blind Charlie had anticipated.
"If I were you," the old man continued persuasively, "I'd pitch the tune of the whole business in a little lower key. Let up on the big noise you're making--cut out some of the violent statements. I think you understand. Take my word for it, quieter tactics will be a lot more effective at this stage of the game. You've got the people--you don't want to scare them away."
Bruce stared thoughtfully, and without suspicion, at the loose-skinned, smiling, old face.
"U'm!" he said. "U'm!"
Blind Charlie waited patiently for two or three minutes.
"Well, what do you think?" he asked.
"You may be right," Bruce slowly admitted.
"There's no doubt of it," the old politician pleasantly assured him.
"And of course I'm much obliged. But I'm afraid I disagree with you."
"Eh?" said Blind Charlie, with the least trace of alarm.
Bruce's face tightened, and the flat of his hand came down upon his desk.
"When you start a fight, the way to win is to keep on fighting. And that's what I'm going to do."
Blind Charlie started forward in his chair.
"See here," he began, authoritatively. But in an instant his voice softened. "You'll be making a big mistake if you do that. Better trust to my older head in this. I want to win as much as you do, you know."
"I admit you may be right," said Bruce doggedly. "But I'm going to fight right straight ahead."
"Come, now, listen to reason."
"I've heard your reasons. And I'm going right on with the fight."
Blind Charlie's face grew grim, but his voice was still gentle and insinuating.
"Oh, you are, are you? And give no attention to my advice?"
"I'm sorry, but that's the way I see it."
"I'm sorry, but that's the way I don't see it."
"I know; but I guess I'm running this campaign," retorted Bruce a little hotly.
"And I guess the party chairman has some say-so, too."
"I told you, when I accepted, that I would take the nomination without strings, or I wouldn't take it at all. And you agreed."
"I didn't agree to let you ruin the party."
Bruce looked at him keenly, for the first time suspicious. Katherine's warning echoed vaguely in his head.
"See here, Charlie Peck, what the devil are you up to?"
"Better do as I say," advised Peck.
"I won't!"
"You won't, eh?" Blind Charlie's face had grown hard and dark with threats. "If you don't," he said, "I'm afraid the boys won't see your name on the ticket on election day."
Bruce sprang up.
"Damn you! What do you mean by that?"
"I reckon you're not such an infant that you need that explained."