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  neutralize them so that they don't work actively for the enemy."

        The Harbord Diggers Club, which I had hastily joined a few weeks before, greeted us with open arms.   Walker was treated as an honoured guest, and I was regarded as the local boy.   These old warriors were a very different group from those in Manly, full of irreverent good humour and a genuine devotion to simple mateship.   Peter Lumbsdaine, the Club President, pushed a beer into my hand and winked.   "We don't allow political arguments here," he said, leaning against the bar in the huge ground floor room which was crowded with members, "Because we're all Labor!"

         I was to learn that this was certainly true of the Club's executive, all of whom were local identities in Harbord, and who remained faithful to the cause of the common man.

        We ate a hasty counter lunch, disengaged ourselves with much handshaking and headed off again in the LTD.   I was beginning to relax and enjoy this new experience of campaigning with a minister.   Walker's casual style seemed effective on both friend and foe - he came over as a bright young man with a real interest in whoever he was talking to.

        We called in at a cordial factory where Gladdy had union members, spoke to some of the workers and to the manager, and hurried on.   Finally, we arrived late for  

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