In the Arena | Page 5

closet door, and go out for their suppers, leaving one
of each side to watch in the room so that nobody could open the
closet-door with a pass-key and tamper with the ballots before they
were counted. Now, the ceiling over the shelf in the closet wasn't
plastered, and it formed, of course, part of the flooring in the room

above. The boards were to be loosened by a Gorgett man upstairs, as
soon as the box was locked in; he would take up a piece of
planking--enough to get an arm in--and stuff the box with Gorgett
ballots till it grunted. Then he would replace the board and slide out. Of
course, when they began the count our people would know there was
something wrong, but they would be practically up against it, and the
precinct would be counted for Gorgett.
They brought the heeler up to me, not at headquarters (I was city
chairman) but at a hotel room I'd hired as a convenient place for the
more important conferences and to keep out of the way of every
Tom-Dick-and-Harry grafter. Bob Crowder, a ward committee-man,
brought him up and stayed in the room, while the fellow--his name was
Genz--went over the whole thing.
"What do you think of it?" says Bob, when Genz finished. "Ain't it
worth the money? I declare, it's so neat and simple and so almighty
smart besides, I'm almost ashamed some of our boys hadn't thought of
it for us."
I was just opening my mouth to answer, when there was a signal knock
at the door and a young fellow we had as a kind of watcher in the next
room (opening into the one I used) put his head in and said Mr.
Knowles wanted to see me.
"Ask him to wait a minute," said I, for I didn't want him to know
anything about Genz. "I'll be there right away."
Then came Farwell Knowles's voice from the other room, sharp and
excited. "I believe I'll not wait," says he. "I'll come in there now!"
And that's what he did, pushing by our watcher before I could hustle
Genz into the hall through an outer door, though I tried to. There's no
denying it looked a little suspicious.
Farwell came to a dead halt in the middle of the room.
"I know that person!" he said, pointing at Genz, his brow mighty black.

"I saw him and Crowder sneaking into the hotel by the back way, half
an hour ago, and I knew there was some devilish--"
"Keep your shirt on, Farwell," said I.
He was pretty hot. "I'll be obliged to you," he returned, "if you'll
explain what you're doing here in secret with this low hound of
Gorgett's. Do you think you can play with me the way you do with your
petty committee-men? If you do, I'll show you! You're not dealing with
a child, and I'm not going to be tricked or sold out of this elec--"
I took him by the shoulders and sat him down hard on a cane-bottomed
chair. "That's a dirty thought," said I, "and if you knew enough to be
responsible I reckon you'd have to account for it. As it is--why, I don't
care whether you apologize or not."
He weakened right away, or, at least, he saw his mistake. "Then won't
you give me some explanation," he asked, in a less excitable way, "why
are you closeted here with a notorious member of Gorgett's ring?"
"No," said I, "I won't."
"Be careful," said he. "This won't look well in print."
That was just so plumb foolish that I began to laugh at him; and when I
got to laughing I couldn't keep up being angry. It was ridiculous, his
childishness and suspiciousness. Right there was where I made my
mistake.
"All right," says I to Bob Crowder, giving way to the impulse. "He's the
candidate. Tell him."
"Do you mean it?" asks Bob, surprised.
"Yes. Tell him the whole thing."
So Bob did, helped by Genz, who was more or less sulky, of course;
and is wasn't long till I saw how stupid I'd been. Knowles went straight
up in the air.

"I knew it was a dirty business, politics," he said, jumping out of his
chair, "but I didn't realize it before. And I'd like to know," he went on,
turning to me, "how you learn to sit there so calmly and listen to such
iniquities. How do you dull your conscience so that you can do it? And
what course do you propose to follow in the matter of this confession?"
"Me?" I answered. "Why, I'm going to send supper in to our fellows,
and the box'll never see that closet. The man upstairs may get a little
tired. I reckon