Republican news item. [volume] (Laport, Pa.) 1896-19??, 1910-11-25

not received permission on this great
night to retire, Gaines! order Dun
derberg saddled and brought around
in fifteen minutes. and have Giles
ride with me tonight"
Caleb went up to his dressing-room
and hastily changed into his riding
clothes.
AS he strapped on the second Of his
spurs confused babel of sound arose
Just beyond his dressing-room. This
apartment served as sort of ante
chamber to the study. The noise,
therefore, must have come. he knew,
from the bevy of men he had left
there. This patent fact dawned on
ConoveT as surprise. He had for
gotten his followers existence, for
gotten the undecided election, the i'm
pending Grafton returns on which its
result would hang. He had even,
since WendelPs departure, forgotten
Jerrys plight and his own rage and
modification thereat. All life-all the
future-now concentrated for him,
about the Denzlow packet, whose con-
tents must by this time, or by morn
ing at latest, be known to the au-
thorities. This last and greatest blow
had filled all his emotions, driving out
lesser thoughts, fears, hopes and
griefs, as cyclone might rip to thin
air the dawn mists over lake.
Now, at the clamor in the study, he
pulled himself together. The iron
will still held. He strobe to the con-
Meeting door and opened it. The
tumult had died down, and Staatz
alone was now speaking. So intent
were the speaker and his hearers that
none noted the Boss's advent from so
unexpected a quarter. On the thresh-
old stood Caleb, surveying the scene
with quiet contempt.
"And that's how it isl" Staatz was
declaiming. "We're licked. Licked!
Pretty sort of news for Democrats
this isl" picking up newly y-broken
length of ticker tape around which
the other men had been clustering.
"'City of Grafton, complete: Con-
over 5,100, Standish 1881 Is it a
wonder you all went nutty when you
got it? In Grafton, too, stronghold of
| Democracy. This means the State
for Standish by an easy 1000, maybe
more. And who's to blame? Are
yon? Am l? Not us. We've had
the whole party's had-our hands
tied behind us. And we were sent in
to fight like that. Could we use the
good old moves? Not us! 1t must be
kid-glove, silk-sock, amachoor politics,
meeting Standish on his own ground.
No wonder he licked us! A Prohibit
ZIONIST could have licked men that
| were hampered like we were. And
who was it tied our hands? Who got
the party beat and the Machine
smashed? Who did it? Caleb Con-
Overt"
He paused painting and seating with
wrath. Then. encouraged by mur.
mur of assent that ran around the
| ring of listeners, he beloved:
'We amt in politics for our health,
| are we? It's our bread and butter.
That bread and buffers been snatchcd
away from us. Who by? Caleb Con-
over! Are you going to be led by the
nose any longer by man who be-
trays you like that? For my part Pm
tired of wearing his collar"
A growl of appreciation greeted his
query. His below changed to q lower
tone of persuasion.
81 amt saying" he resumed, "but
what Conovers done work for the
Machine. In his day he was a great
man, but his days past. He's break
ing up. Don't this campaign prove he
| Is? Makes us throw our chances ont
| of the winder for Standish to pick up.
And when we're waiting news from
| the deciding city he plays phono-
graph, and then wanders off and most
| likely forgets we're here. There's an
| other thing: How did Richard Croker
| and Charlie Murphy and Matt Quay
and N. Bonaparte and all the rest OF
the big bosses hold their power? BY
| keeping their mouths shut. When
| Croker once began to talk what hap
pened? Down tumbled all his power
Same with Quay. Same with N'pol-
con. Same with all of 'em. Talking
was the first sign of losing hold
| Look at Conover's case. We can all
| remember when words was as hard
| to get out of him as dollars. How
about him now? Talks to anyone.
| tell you he's breaking up. Unless we
want the Machine to break up for
good and all, too, we got to get new
Leader"
"If the new Leaders you, Adolphe
| Staatz," cut in rasping snarl, like
dogs, from the group Of politicians.
| as Billy Shevlin shouldered his way
forward and thrust his unshaven face
close to the district leaders, bristling
gray mustache, 'ff you're the new
Leader you're rootin' for, let me put
you wise to somethin': You'll go to
the primaries straight from the hos
pital, an with your shyster mug in
sling. Fer. IL hear another peep out
of you, roastin' the Boss, I'll knock