The daily Gate City. [volume] (Keokuk, Iowa) 1855-1916, 1911-06-02

like best the men have licked
like 'em and trust 'em; and the harder
they was to lick. somehow, the more
trust EN-" said Daniel Tank, Boss,
bringing his great hulking fist down
with resounding thump upon the
little fat-topped desk before him.
Tanks office was the dingy front
room over the cigar store OF Heck &
Heck, at the intersection of two streets
where cornered four wards, the control
OF which had marked the beginning of
his political ascendency. On these four
wards the politics OF the city turned as
on hub, and Tank was the axle on
which the hub itself revolved. AS to
complexion, Tank was leathery. AS to
figure, he escaped being tubby only be-
cause his body was SO long His gross
belly spread Itself up and down and
around, enveloping him. yet leaving
free immense arms and legs, 80 that
despite his girth the impression one
gained from look was of immense,
bull-like strength. A neck, gnarled
and muscular, rose between massive
shoulders and poised head that was
thatched with brown. curly hair and
bounded on the front by great square,
sleepy face. There was no leer to the
round, blue, twinkling eye Of Tank, no
compromise to the nose, and his mouth
ran straight across his face, stopping
on either side only when the limits of
possibility had been reached, so that
when he smiled his very heart seemed
to open; and when he frowned-well,
when anger possessed him, or rude de-
termination, there was no mouth at all,
only scar-like seam that passed across
two inches above bullying chin that
in its grim, bulldog-like grip OF purpose
annexed and made tributary the entire
facial landscape from the sleepy eyes
down. But just then, by the way, the
eyes would not be sleepy. Instead,
under knotted auburn brows two blue
lights burned flercely. and that, as to
optics, would be all.
Johnnie Orear, fawning fox, had been
detected in treachery to the hand he
cringingly licked, and had been de-
spoiled Of his place and driven out of
the Office the day before with terrible
oaths. "reminiscences had been awak-
ened in Tanks mind this morning by
flood Of applicants for Orear's Job in
the assessors Office where he had been
chief deputy, and the boss as he men,
tally thumbed the pages Of his political
memory had delivered himself thus en-
phatically as to the kind Of men he
considered eligible for positions of pub
lie trust
And so that's why We won't give me
Orear's Job, I'm askin' for" peppered
little red-headed Halloran, jumping up
from the chair in which he had been
sitting and leaning across the desk
That's why We WON'T" He shook his
fiery copse menacingly low over the
desk, his eyes closed In sheer stubborn
ness.
The other two or three henchmen sit
ting around in the bosss Office in an
atmosphere heavy with smoke and the
perfumes of stale beer, seemed sur
prised. And yet it was like Halloran.
this impatient, impertinent speech of
his. A scrappy child was Halloran,
and all-leaky about the mouth when
his spirits were hectored.
The boss looked at him stolidly,
c{a ~ !, L. u Ill
twice. but withal weighing shrewdly.
good-naturedly, as the lord Of the
jungle can afford to be good-natured,
the fiery soul of the little man before
him, whose honest loyalty was unques-
tionable despite his temper.
You can have the Job" Tank said
finally, for your damned impudence."
Reddy Halioran gasped and look of
amazement so funny came upon his
face. that all three Of the other re-
tanners of Tank burst into roars of
laughter. Laughter was beneath the
dignity of the boss just now, but there
was the suggestion of a twinkle in his
eye as he arose and with a sweeping
gesture ordered of them all
And now get t. hell out of here.
Don't you hear the drums?"
Sure enough the sound of drum taps
reached their ears. This was the day
of Tanks picnic to the Irish of the
wards" as he affectionately denomi-
mated his stronghold, and the measured
pulsings of music marked the progress
of the Third Regiment band which was
the Celtic clans. They had
just come to halt under Tanks win
dow and set up The Wearing o. the
Green
But as Tank spoke a figure slouched
through the doorway and stood erect
before the group-a tall, rangy kind Of
man, Immediately recognizable by all
as Tom Magee, better known as Long
shore Tom" walking delegate of the
Longshoremen's Union, and growing
power in water front politics.
No finesse about Tom In some re-
spects dull and stupid sort of fellow.
with a bullet-like head on his lank
shoulders. He gave the impression of
one who thought but rarely and then
in solid chunks, some indigestible idea
or other. and when he spoke it was in
slow monosyllabic utterance.
Lilo, Dan,' he said, seeing the boss
standing.
Lilo, Tom" responded Tank, max
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