Putnam's Pastime (Asher, Okla.), Vol. 1, No. 7, Ed. 1 Monday, September 1, 1913 Page: 4 of 8
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Reform in the First
By BRAND WHITLOCK
AUTHOR Or 'THE THIRTEENTH DISTRICT." "HER INFINITE VARIETY."
“THE HAPPY AVERAGE." "THE TURN Of THE BALANCE." ETC., ETC
sue paper
I In the First district was
f to convene at 10 o’clock.
^ In a dingy little hull In
lower Clark street, light-
ed by windows so long
unwashed that they
looked like ground glass.
From the chandeliers,
black and sticky with
dead flies, shreds of tis-
fluttered, relics of some
boisterous fete an Italian society
had given there long ago. The
floor was damp in arabesque wrought
by a sprinkling-can, for the janitor
had sprayed water there to lay the
dust he was too Indifferent to remove
Perhaps a hundred chairs were set in
smphithentrical order, and before
them stood a kitchen table, on which
was a white water pitcher, flanked by
a glass, thickened by various sedi-
mentary deposits within.
In the saloon below, at 9 o'clock,
scores of delegates were already shur-
fling in the suwdust that covered the
floor, holding huge schooners of beer
In their hairy fists, gorging grossly at
the free lunch table, with bolognn.
rank onions and rye bread. The foam
of the beer clung to their mustaches,
which, after each sip, they sucked be-
tween their lips. Most of them man-
aged, nt the sntue time they were eat-
ing and drinking, by a dexterous
sleight-of-hand, to stnoke cheap do-
mestic cigars, and n cloud of white
smoke rolled along the low celling.
Each new arrival was greeted with
some obscene but endearing epithet,
and the room rang with laughter and
profanity. A keg of beer had been
provided by one of Conway's man-
agers, and the bartender, wiping his
hands on a dirty towel, was rid, so
long as the keg lasted, of the responsi-
bility of keeping nccount of drinks,
and of ringing up the change on the
cash register. At It o'clock the keg
was empty, the free lunch table aban-
doned to the flies, and the delegates
scuffled up the dingy stairs to the
hall. Half an hour later the chairman
of the senatorial district committee
pounded the kitchen table with a leg
of a broken chair, and shouted:
"The convention will be In order.”
Tills declaration made no Impres-
sion upon the babel of voices, the
laughter, the profanity, the noise of
shuffling feet and scraping chairs.
Finally the chairman of the commit-
tee, growing impatient, split the table
with his club and yelled:
"Damn It all, boys, come to order!”
And then, eager to resign such n dif-
ficult command, he hastened to an-
nounce:
"The committee has named Honor-
able John P. Muldoon to act as
temp’ry chairman."
He handed the chair leg to John P.
Muldoon, who, stroking back his curly
hair from his brow, began to beat the
table impartially.
All this while I’uderwood stood
against the wall, looking on, The
question that had been agitating him
for weeks was about to be decided,
but now that the ordeal was actually
upon him, the consciousness beat
numbly against his brain, so that the
whole scene lacked reality, almost in-
terest. He was dared. He was about
to take his baptism of political fire,
and he trembled like a white noviti-
ate.
Underwood belonged to one of the
oldest families of Chicago—the name
had been known there before the fire
Gopzrlflil by The Bobb* Merrli. Ouuipauy
HE senatorial convention | dollars a keg. Ho winked confi-
dentially at himself In the mirror that
night as ho gave a final touch to his
white cravat and surveyed his fine
young form arrayed In evening
clothes for iho reform banquet at the
Palmer house. His speech was The
Tendencies of Modern Politics. The
newspapers said It was a,very brilliant
speech, breathing lofty political senti-
ments that were bound to make John
W. Vnderwood votes. Also, the Re-
form club Indorsed his candidature.
As Vnderwood leaned against the
greasy wall of the little hall on low-
er Clark street this morning, the
whole campaign flashed before him,
just as the events of a lifetime are
said In books to flash before the mind
of a drowning man. He recalled ev-
ery vivid detnll of the call Baldwin
had made upon him, how he entered
hta private office without troubling
the pale, pimpled office boy to an-
nounce him, how lie lifted from his
carefully parted hair his straw hat
with Its youthful band of blue, and
laughed out, "John, my boy, how are
you? Hot, isn't it?" He could see
Baldwin ns he sat In the solid oak
chair that stood intimately beside his
roll-top desk, fanning his ruddy face
with the hat, which had Impressed a
broad red band on his forehead. Vn-
derwood had been glad enough to
close "Cooley on Taxation” and re-
volve his chair to face Baldwin, just
ns If he had been a client, for Bald-
win was the most important politician |
who had ever called upon him profes-
sionally.
He knew Baldwin had come with
some practical proposition, and when |
the lobbyist suggested that he was too
respectable, and would run better in
some residence district, that the boys
looked upon him as a reformer, and
that the silk stockings were not prac-
tical enough to help him, Vnderwood
had felt that at last it was coming.
It was simple enough. Baldwin had
been talking that very morning about
Vnderwood's candidature to Mr. Weed
of the Metropolitan Motor System,
and to Mr. Peabody, president of the
Gas company, and they had been very
much interested. They had an anxiety
to see good men nominated that year
for they had large business interests
that were more or less affected by
legislation, and had feared they would
have to settle on Conway. Conway
had experience In legislative matters,
and had been friendly enough in the
city council, yet they felt they could
hardly trust him—he was such a
grafter, and In such things, Baldwin
blandly assured Vnderwood, they had
| to depend upon a man s honor alone,
and so they had sent Baldwin to sug-
gest that Vnderwood meet them at
luncheon, and talk matters over. Bald-
win, with his love of ease and luxury,
had preferred a dinner over at the
I Cardinal's in the evening, but Mr. Pca-
| body had something on hand with the
! trustees of liis church and couldn't
| meet them then. Baldwin had taken
out his watch at this point, with the
I air of a man who suddenly remembers
j some important engagement—the de-
tails all came back with a fidelity that
was painful—and stood awaiting Vn-
! derwood's reply, with the open watch
ticking impatiently in his palm.
Of course, Vnderwood had under-
stood—and he wished ardently to he
I nominated and elected. He could see
himself swinging idly in a big chair
behind a walnut desk in the senate
| chamber, just as an actor sees him-
lf he had the decision to make over
again, he would decline such Influ-
ence. It had been the cause of much
doubt and some regret at the time.
The boss within him had protested—
surely It was a political mistake—and
tho bosB was louder than the reform-
er, and more plausible. He came for-
ward with a brilliant scheme. He re-
called Baldwin’s reference to the
rivalry between Nolan and Conway.
Vnderwood remembered that when he
suggested the possibility of Nolan's
running for tile nomination himself
test vote; It would disclose his own
strength and the strength of Conway.
He looked over the red faces before
him. He Baw Conway himself mov-
ing among the delegates, snarling,
cursing, quarreling with the friends of
years; he saw Conway's candidate for
the houBe, McGlone, over In the Sec-
ond ward delegation, his coat off, a
handkerchief about his fat neck, a fum-
ing cigar between his chubby fingers,
turning on his heavy haunches to re-
vile some man who was numbered
with Nolan's crowd; he saw In the
Baldwin had shaken his head—there First ward delegation, Malaehi Nolan,
wasn't enough In It. he said. Nolan clean-shaven, in black coat and cravat,
could do very- much betler in the coun his iron gray hair cropped short, calm
ell, where he was. Besides, Mr. Weed alone of all the others. He would
and Air. Peabody disliked him. ■ have looked the priest more than the
Underwood thought out his scheme saloon-keeper, had he smoked his ci-
that afternoon, while hunting In the gnr differently. Now and then he sol-
digest for cases in point to be cited emnly raised his hand, with almost the
in a case bi» father was preparing for benediction of a father, to still the
the appellate court. The work of look-! clamor of his delegation, which, with
ing up cases in point, while Its results
are Impressive nnd seem to smell of
the lamp, had In reality grown quite
automatic to Underwood, and as ho
loafed over digests and reports and
jotted down his notes, he elaborated
the scheme, just what he would say
and do, how ho would appear, and so
forth. And so, when he entered Mai
achl Nolan's place in Dearborn street,
its twenty-one votes, was safe at all
events for Underwood.
Muldoon was Conway's man—they
would try to make the temporary or-
ganization permanent. D’Ormand was
Vnderwood's candidate. And Muldoon
won. Vnderwood had lost the first
round.
The candidates for senator were to
be placed in nomination first. Under-
early that evening, he was fully pre- j wood stood in the crowded doorway
pared. The details of this Incident ' and heard Conway’s name presented,
came back just as the details of Bald Then, in the cheering, with his heart
win's visit had done—tho empty sa-
loon, the nlderman himself leaning
over his bar, his white apron rolled
into a big girth about his middle, the
cigar in the round hole at the corner
of his mouth gone out, denoting that
It was time for him to go down the
alley to Billy Boyle's nnd get his por-
terhouse and baked potato.
Vnderwood watched Malaehi Nolan
mix his Martini cocktail, splash It pic-
turesquely into a sparkling glass and
bejewel It with a Maraschino cherry,
then gravely take a cigar for himself
and stow it away in his ample waist-
coat. Then, as Nolan mopped the bar
with professional sweep of his white-
sleeved, muscular arm, Underwood un-
folded his bri.liant scheme, skirting
In his sanded throat, he heard the
chairman say:
"Are there any other nominations?"
There was a momentary stillness,
and then he heard a thick, Btrong
voice:
"Misther Chairman.”
"The gentleman from the First
ward.”
“Misther Chairman,” the thick,
strong voice said, "I rolse to place In
nomynation the name of wan-”
It was the voice of Malaehi Nolan,
and Vnderwood suddenly remembered
that Nolan was to place his name be-
fore the convention. He listened an
Instant, but could not endure It long.
He could not endure that men should
see him in the hour when his name
His father, who had lately taken him
into his law firm, continued to cling
In his conservatism to an old stone
house in Michigan avenue long after
his neighbors had abandoned their
mansions to uncertain boarders, and
either retreated farther south or ad-
vanced to the North Side John Vn-
derwood had come out of Harvard
with a young lawyer's ambition in
politics, an ambition that had the
United Stntes senate merely as a be-
ginning of its home stretch, and when
the year rolled around in which state
senators were to be elected In the
odd numbered districts he decided
that It was time to begin.
The newspapers had scented the
sensation that lurked In the candida-
ture of a young man like Vnderwood
In the district like the First, and be-
cause he went into what is called so-
ciety, promptly dubbed him a reform-
er, and thus weighted he had set out
upon his race for the nomination He
liked to see his name in the newspa-
pers, liked to think of himself ns a
reformer, though he was embarrassed
In this attitude by the fascinating fig-
ure of the political boss he had hoped
to become a well-dressed, gentleman-
ly boss, of course, who, while at home
In those saloons where he permitted
the convivial familiarity of tho boys,
nevertheless took his luncheons at hts
club. He fell Into a way of speaking
of the First as "my district," spoke
of It. In fact, as If he. instead of
Malaehi Noiau and "Cinch” Conway,
owned It, and when certain ward poli-
ticians in the first days of the cam-
paign called upon him, Vnderwood
was pleased to lend them money, just
as he was pleased to comply with the
requests of certain others who organ
lied the John \V. Vnderwood First
Ward Campaign club, and sent a com-
mittee to Inform him that they were
assembled In the club rooms ready to
transact business, and beer only four
self, with an artist's ecstatic, half-
frightened gasp, in some new part he
is about to study. The position would
give him much importance, he would
be riding back and forth between Chi-
cago and Springfield on a pass, it
would he so pleasant to be addressed
as senator, to he consulted, to head
delegations In state conventions and
cast the solid vote for any one he
pleased; besides, it would be a good
training for Washington, he could
practice in oratory and parliamentary
law just ns he practiced on friendless
pnupers over In the criminal court
when his father influenced some
Judge to appoint him to defend an
indigent prisoner. It meant only one
little word, he could he wary of prom-
ises, His heart had expanded, he had
turned half around in his chair to face
Baldwin, when suddenly the reformer
within him rose to object, pointed to
his ideals, rehearsed the speech on
"The Tendencies of Modern Politics,"
recalled all the good words the inde-
pendent papers had spoken of him.
urged the beauty of great sacrifices
for principle. At tho Idea of self-sac-
rifice. Vnderwood had felt a melting
self-pity, he admired himself In this
new role of a self-sacrificing reform-
er. And so he flung the cigarette out
of the window, watched it whirl down
to the melting tar of the roofs below
and said firmly:
"I have an engagement this morn-
ing, Mr. Baldwin. I'm sorry, but 1
guess I can't come."
Once more Vnderwood saw the
pleasantness leave Baldwin’s face,
saw him fleck a flake of ash from the
white waistcoat he wore with his sum-
mer suit of blue, and snapping the lid
of his watch shut, he once more heard
him say in a final and reproachful
tone:
"Well, all right; sorry, my hoy,"
Underwood wondered that morning
in the noisy convention hall, whether.
carefully the acute suspicions of an
old politician. But Nolan mopped,
blinking Inscrutably, at last putting
the damp cloth away in some myste-
1 rious place under the counter. The fat
Maltese cat. waiting until the mois-
ture on the bar had evaporated,
stretched herself again beside the sil-
ver urn that held the crackers and
the little cubes of cheese. Still Nolan
blinked in silence, like a hostile jury
with its mind made up, until at last,
in desperation, Underwood blurted out
his proposition. Nolan blinked some
more, then, half opening his blue Irish
eyes, grunted:
“Well, I like your gall."
Vnderwood's spirits fell, yet he was
not disappointed. It was, after all,
just what he had expected. It served
him right for his presumption, If noth-
ing more—though the subdued re-
former within had hinted at other rea-
sons. He hung his head, twirling his
empty glass disconsolately. He did^iot
see the light that twiukled in the blue
eyes, he had not then known how very
ready Nolan was to form any com
bination that would beat Conway and
Baldwin, especially with a reformer
like himself who had money to spend
on his ambitions. He had not dis-
cerned how badly the man whom the
newspai'ers always cartooned with
the First ward sticking out of his vest
pocket needed a reformer in his busi-
ness, as the saying is. Hence his
glad surprise when Nolan wiped his
big hand on his apron like a washer-
woman and held it out, saying:
"But I'm wit' ye."
Then the campaign, under Nolan’s
management. In the most wonderful
legislative district—a cosmopolitan
district, bristling with sociological
problems, a district that has fewer
homes and more saloons, more com-
merce util more sloth, more million-
aires and more paupers, and while it
confines within Its boundaries the sky-
scrapers, clubs, theaters and hundred
churches of a metropolis, still boasts
a police station with more arrests on
Its blotter than any other In the world.
Night after night, with Nolan's two
candidates for the house, he spent in
saloons where a candidate must treat
and distribute his cards that the boys
may size him up.
But they were balloting for perma-
nent chairman now. It would be a
] was being thus laid naked to the
j world. Reporters were writing it
down, perhaps the crowd would laugh
or whistle or hiss. Besides, candi-
i dates do not remain in the convention
j hall; they await the committee of noti-
fication In some near-by saloon. He
squeezed through the mass of men
who stood on tiptoes, stretching their
necks to see and hear the old leader
! of the First ward, and fled.
The first ballot was taken—Conway,
j 31; Underwood, 30; Simmons, the
dark horse, S; necessary to a choice.
35. The vote was unchanged for
twenty-six ballots, till the afternoon
had worn away, and the trucks had
jolted off the cobblestones of Clark
street, till the lights were flaring and
hot-tamale men, gamblers, beggars,
street walkers, all the denizens of
{ darkness were shifting along the side-
walks, till the policemen had been
changed on their beats, and Pinkerton
night watchmen were trying the doors
of stores, till Chinamen shuffled forth,
and Jewesses and Italian women
emerged for their evening breath of
air, bringing swart and grimy children
to play upon the heated flags. The
hall was lighted, Just as if some Ital-
ian festival were to be held there. The
reporters’ places at the table were
taken by the men who did polities for
the moming papers, themselves re-
duced at last to the necessity of tak-
ing notes. They brought reports of
the results in other senatorial conven-
tions held about town that day—it
seemed to be assured that John Skel-
1 ley had carried the country towns,
l-emont, Riverside, Evanston and so
on. In certain west side districts this
man had won, in certain north side
districts that man had been success-
ful. It looked as If the old gang was
going to break back into the legisla-
ture.
And so the Interest In this one re-
maining convention deepened, the
strain tightened, the crowd thickened.
Now and then the leaders made des-
perate attempts to trade, harrying
Simmons, offering him everything for
his seven votes. Simmons himself, in
hts turn, tried to induce each faction
to swing its strength to him.
But the situation remained unchang
ed.
Once Nolan sent for Vnderwood and
whispered to him. He thought he
knew one or two Conway men who
could be got very cheaply, but the boy
shook hts head—the reformer within
him demurred—and yet he smiled sar-
donically at the reformer thinking of
the primaries and the convention It-
self.
Then Malaehi Nolan caught the
chairman's shifty eye and moved an
adjournment until morning. But even
as he spoke, Grogan scowled at Mul-
doon, shook his head at his followers,
and the room rang with their hoarse
shouts;
"No! no! no!”
Heartened by this confession of
weakness on Nolan's part, they kept
on yelling lustily:
"No! no! no!”
They even laughed, and Muldoon
smote the table, to declare the motion
lost.
On the forty-seventh ballot, one of
the Simmons votes went over to Con-
way, and there was a faint cheer. On
the forty-eighth, one of the Simmons
votes went to Underwood, and parity
was restored. On the forty-ninth, Un-
derwood gained another of Simmons’
votes—Nolan, it seemed, had promised
to get him on the janitor’s pay-roll in
the state house—and the vote was
tied. This ballot stood:
First Second Fifth
Ward Ward Ward Total
Conway ................ 10 22 32
Underwood .......... 21 4 7 32
Simmons .......... 6 .. 6
The Simmons men were holding out,
waiting to throw their strength to the
winner. When the sixty-seventh bal-
lot had been taken, Muldoon, squint-
ing in the miserable light at the sec-
retary's figures, hit the table with the
chair leg and said:
"On this ballot Conway receives 32,
Underwood 32, Simmons 5. There be-
ing no choice, you will prepare your
ballots for another vote.”
Just then one of the Conway men
from the Second ward left his place,
and touched one of Nolan's fellows In
the First ward delegation—Donahue—
on the shoulder. Donanue started. The
man whispered in his ear, and return-
ed to his delegation, keeping hts eye
on Donahue. Underwood looked on
breathlessly. Nolan, revolving slowly,
held his hat for every vote—last of
all for Donahue’s. The man dropped
his folded ballot into th'e hat and hung
his head. Nolan calmly picked the
ballot out of the hat and gave it back
to Donahue, who looked up in affected
surprise
"What’s the trouble, Malaehi?” he
said as innocently as he could. He
was not much of an actor.
"This won’t do," Nolan said, giving
the ballot back to the man.
"It’s all right, Malaehi, honest to
God it is!" protested Donahue.
"Thin I'll just put this wan in for
ye, heh?” said Nolan, drawing an-
other ballot from the pocket of his
huge waistcoat and poising it above
the hat.
The crowd had pressed around the
First ward delegation. The conven-
tion had risen to its feet, craning red
necks, and out of the mass Grogan
cried:
“Aw, here, Malaehi Nolan, none o'
that now!”
Nolan turned his rugged face to-
ward him and said simply:
"Who's runnin’ this dillygation, you
or me?”
"Well—none o' your bulldozing—we
won't stand it!" replied Grogan angri-
ly, his blue eyes blazing.
"You get to hell out o' this.” And
so saying, Nolan dropped the ballot
into the hat and turned to face the
chair.
“Have you all voted?” inquired
Muldoon.
“First ward!” the secretary called.
Nolan squared his shoulders, not
having looked in his hat or counted
the ballots there, and said slowly and
impressively:
“On behalf av the solid dillygation
av the First ward, I cast twinty-wan
votes for John W. Underwood.”
"Misther Chairman! Misther Chair-
man!” cried G-ogan. waving his hand
in the air, "I challenge that vote! I
challenge that vote!"
"The gentleman from the Fifth ward
challenges the vote-”
"Misther Chairman.” said Nolan,
standing with one heavy foot on his
chair and leveling a forefinger at Mul-
doon. "a point of order! The gintle-
man from the Fifth ward has no right
to challenge the vote av the First
ward—he's not a member of the dilly-
gation!’’
"I.et the First ward he polled.”
calmly ruled Muldoon. Nolan took his
foot from his chair and stepped to
Donahue's side. Every man in the
First ward delegation, as his- name
was called from the credentials, cried
"Vnderwood!" As the secretary near-
ed the name of Donahue. Nolan laid
his hand heavily on the fellow's shoul-
der,
"Donahue!” called the secretary.
The fellow squirmed under Nolan's
hand.
"Donahue!"
"Don't !et him bluff you!" cried
some one from the Fifth ward.
"Vote as you damn please, Jimmie!"
"T'row the boots into 'im, Donnie!"
"Soak him one!”
"Take vour hands off him, Bull No-
lan!"
So they bawled and Donahue wrig-
gled. But the hand of Nolan, like the
hand of Douglas, was his own, and
gripped fast Grogan, his face red,
his eyes on fire, leaped from his place
In his delegation, and started across
the chairs for Nolan The big saloon-
keeper gave him a look out of his lit-
tle eye. His left shoulder dipped, his
left fist tightened. Grogan halted
“Vote. Jtmmie, me lad,” said Nolan,
in a soft voica
"Underwood!” said Donahue, In a
whisper. His weak, pinched, hungry
i face turned appealingly toward Gro-
gan. His blear eyes were filmy with
disappointment
"He votes for John W. Underwood,
Misther Chairman,” said Nolan com-
placently. The vote was unchanged.
The chairman ordered another ballot.
And then, all at once, as if a breath
from a sanded desert had blown into
the room, Underwood was sensible of
a change In the atmosphere. The air
was perhaps no hotter than It had
been for hours at the close of that
stifling day, no bluer with tobacco
smoke, no heavier with the smell
borne in from Clark street on hot
winds that had started cool and fresh
from the lake four blocks away, a
smell compounded of many smells, the
smell ascending from foul and dark
cellars beneath the sidewalk, the
smell of stale beer, the ammonlao
smell of filthy pavements, mingled
with the feculence of unclean bodies
that had sweated for hours in the vi-
tiated air of that low-celllngcd, crowd-
ed room.
A hush fell. Muldoon, his black,
curly locks shining with perspiration,
was leaning on his improvised gavel,
his keen eye, the Irish eye that so
readily seizes such situations, dart-
ing Into every face before him.
And suddenly came that for which
they were waiting. A man entered the
hall nnd strode straight across the
floor Into the Fifth ward delegation,
into the group where the Underwood
men were clustered about their lead-
er. He wore evening clothes, his
black dinner coat and white shirt bos-
om striking a vivid note in the scene-
He walked briskly, but his mind was
so Intent upon his pose that it was not
until he had removed his cigarette
from his lips and had observed Un-
derwood, that his white teeth showed
beneath his reddish mustache in the
well-known smile of George R. Bald-
win. He elbowed his way into the
very midst of the Underwood men
from the Fifth ward, and leading one
of them aside, talked with him an In-
stant, and then returned him, as it
were, to his place In the delegation.
Then he brought forth another, whis-
pered to him for an earnest moment,
and sent him back, with a smile and
a slap on the shoulder. The third
delegate detained him longer, and
once, as he argued with him, the
slightest shade of displeasure crossed
Baldwin's face, but in an instant the
smile replaced it, and he talked—con-
vincingly, It seemed. Before Baldwin
returned this man to his delegation,
he shook hands with him.
The secretary was calling the
wards, aod Nolan had announced the
result in his delegation. The Fifth
ward was a long while in preparing
Its ballots. There was trouble of
some sort there, among the Under-
wood men. Nolan was urging, expos-
tulating, cursing, commanding. The
air was tense. It seemed to Underwood
that it must inevitably be shattered
by some moral cataclysm in the soul
of man. Grogan’s brow was knit, as
he waited, hat In hand. The delegates
voted. Feverishly, with trembling fin-
gers, Grogan opened and counted the
bits of paper. Then he sprang to his
feet, with a wild, glad light in his
face. *
"Mister Chairman!” he cried, “the
Fifth ward casts twenty-five votes for
Conway and four for Underwood!”
The three bolters in the Fifth ward
delegation sat with defiance in their
faces, but they could r.oi sustain the
expression, even by huddling close to-
gether. They broke for the door,
wriggling their way through masses
of men, who made their passage un-
certain, almost perilous. A billow of
applause broke from the Conway men,
and submerged the convention. Dele-
gates all over the hall were on their
feet, clamoring for recognition, but
Malaehi Nolan's voice boomed heavily
above all other voices. His fist was in
the air above all other fists.
"Misther Chairman!" he yelled, "I
challenge that vote!”
"Misther Chairman!” yelled Grogan,
"a point of order! The gentleman
isn't a member of the Fifth ward dele-
gation and can not challenge its
vote!”
"The point of order is well taken,”
promptly ruled the chair. "The gen-
tleman from the First ward is out of
order—he will take his seat."
Men were screaming, brandishing
fists, waving hats, coats, anything,
scraping chairs, pounding the floor
with them. There were heavy, brutal
oaths, and, here and there, the smack
of a fist on a face. In the tumult, the
five Simmons votes wont to Conway.
Muldoon was heating the table with
his club and crying:
"Order! order! order!”
"To hell with order!" bawled some
one from the First ward delegation.
"On this ballot." Muldoon was call-
ing, “there were sixty-nine votes cast;
necessary to a choice, thirty-five.
James P. Conway has received forty
votes; John W. Underwood, twenty-
nine, and George W. Sir mons"—he
paused, as if to decipher the vote—
"none. James R. Conway, having re-
ceived the necessary number of votes,
is therefore declared the nominee of
this convention.”
Underwood was stunned. He stag-
gered through the herrible uproar to-
ward the door. He longed for the air
outside, even the heavy air of lower
Clatk street, where the people surged
along under the wild, dazzling lights,
in two opposite, ever-passing proces-
sions. His head reeled. He lost the
sense of things, the voices about him
seemed far away and vague, he felt
himself detached, as it were, from all
that had gone before. But as he press-
ed his way through the crowd that
blocked tne entrance, and plunged to-
ward the stairs, he saw Baldwin,
mopping the red band on his white
brow. Baldwin recognized him, and
said, with his everlasting smile:
"Sorry, my boy—next time I”
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Putnam, H. R. Putnam's Pastime (Asher, Okla.), Vol. 1, No. 7, Ed. 1 Monday, September 1, 1913, newspaper, September 1, 1913; Asher, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc859015/m1/4/?q=%22United+States%22: accessed June 19, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.