Last May, upon the swaggering debut of the DeSantis presidential campaign, I flew down to Miami to stake out the Four Seasons, where some 150 eager and ego-filled bundlers bounded about—barking into phones, cavorting in the hotel bar, rifling through their iPhone contacts—in the hopes of raising ungodly sums of money to dethrone Donald Trump in Iowa and beyond. The bundlers, holed up in a luxury hotel equivalent of a bomb shelter to participate in the “Ron-o-Rama,” wielded clipboards and wore campaign pins, proudly indicating their membership on the team since “Day One.” The campaign raised a record $8.2 million in its first 24 hours.

I’ve kept in touch with these bundlers, and at least a few of them haven’t done much dialing for their guy in the 194 days since “Day One”—especially not now, with DeSantis languishing in the polls and only six weeks until Iowa. I know at least one person who attended the Miami phone-a-thon who has effectively switched sides and is now steering his network toward a different candidate. Bundling, after all, is laborious work: It relies on enthusiasm, and it’s clear that enthusiasm for DeSantis—outside of his Yale homies and Florida lobbyists—has waned. “I think people are starting to pull back,” said one DeSantis bundler who has de-escalated his involvement. “I don’t see a finish line here.”