And Billy relapsed into grumbling incoherence. Nor did any of the rest dare voice their equally strong opinions on the subject of Conover’s recent mystifying campaign tactics. Had a less powerful Boss dictated and carried out such a senselessly honest plan of battle, his leadership would have ended with the issuance of his first order. Impregnable as had been Conover’s position in the machine, he himself well knew he had strained his power and influence well-nigh to the breaking point. Should he, in spite of his self-confidence and the wondrous skill he had employed along this new line of warfare, lose the day—— “Coming in better now,” remarked the operator after a fusillade of clicks had held his attention to the instrument for a minute or two. “They’ve got the lines patched up enough to allow you straight service. The stuff’ll all be here in a rush pretty soon.” “Here comes some more ticker reports!” cried Staatz, leader of the Third District, and strongest man, next to Conover himself, in all the Machine. “Why can’t it hurry up? Here—‘Pompton County complete gives Conover 28,042, Standish 6,723.’” Another and louder yell from the tableful, and a battering of bottles and glasses on the board. Conover alone sat calm through the din. Bourke again did rapid figuring. “Hooray!” he yelled. “That brings it up all right. Pompton County and the city of Granite together give you enough plurality to stall all the jay counties except——” “It hangs on the one city of Grafton now,” interposed Caleb, who had as usual gripped the whole situation before his lieutenant had jotted down the first line of figures. “We’ve got enough reports to bring it up to that. We know where we stand everywhere else, except in a few places too small to count. As Grafton goes, the State will go. That’s a cinch.” “That’s right,” admitted Bourke after another spasm of ciphering. “But how’d you get onto us when the rest of us——?” “If I didn’t get onto things before the rest of you did, one of you would be sitting at the head of this table instead of me.” The Railroader glanced, as by accident, toward Staatz, who coughed raucously and plunged at once into talk. “Pete Brayle tried to backtrack us on the sly in Pompton County, I hear,” said the latter. “Thought it’d get him a soft place in the reform gang in case they won. A lot of good it did him.” “Brayle’s always looking for soft places,” observed Caleb dryly. “And he ain’t the only one. Such fellers gen’rally end up in a soft place, all right. Only it’s apt to be a swamp, and that’s——” “Jericho County complete returns,” translated the operator aloud, as his machine began again to click out its news, “Conover 7,910, Standish 5,495.” “Why don’t we hear from Grafton?” asked Staatz. “They’re patching up the connection now,” answered the operator. “It’s farthest city on the line. You’ve got all the rest of the returns from its county.”