they could come together and have four years' amicable struggle to prove whether Sanders or Crane should be seriously put forward for the Vice-presidential nomination five years hence.
Crane listened to this nefarious scheme with disgust—a disgust in which a great longing was strangely and violently mingled. Every word that Sanders said was true; Crane knew that perfectly well. The machine was going to pieces—there could be no doubt of that—and Crane, with accurate knowledge of conditions, saw that the Governor's plan, although far-reaching, was quite practicable. The whole thing, however, hinged upon keeping Senator Bicknell in the dark. If it had been a free, fair fight, the Governor and himself might be worsted. Senator Bicknell might be considered the founder of Crane's political fortunes, and had certainly treated him with great kindness, and had procured his advancement; but then, it was a question whether the great law of necessity would not compel Crane to go with Sanders. Senator Bicknell would not, if he could, ruin Crane, but Governor Sanders was fully capable of it, and would, if he could. Indeed, Sanders conveyed as much.
