He pressed the button for the elevator; but before the upcoming car reached his floor he decided not to descend. He would have it out. He almost ran back to the committee-rooms and, brushing by the knowing but inefficient outer guard, made for the room where the leaders were. Already he could hear the laughter--yes, and the roaring at something or other; and as he placed his hand on the knob of the inner door he heard: "He's come here from the other end of the State, with a reputation for burning things up. Let him try to burn up New Ireland--and then go back to where he came from. Why, let his kind come butting in on us and soon we would all be out of jobs." The chairman's voice, that was. Tim opened the door, and when they looked up and saw him it was as if they had all been clutched by the windpipes. "Go to the devil--all of you!" exploded the new man. "Do you hear? Every mother's son of you!" From out the silence some one at last said: "You mean, Mr. Riley, you are going to desert the party?" Tim whirled on him. "No; it doesn't mean I'm going to desert the party. Did ever you know a man who was any good to desert any party or anything, good or bad, under fire?" "I'm glad to hear that." The chairman had come to life. "And not alone because we would lose you, eloquent though you are reported to be. So many of our people have maintained that no Irishman----" "Cut that Irishman stuff! My chance to make a living, and my children's chance after me, I owe to this country." "But, Mr. Riley, you are of Irish blood." "Irish blood? You may be sure I am, and so proud of it that when I speak of it I slop over; but I'm an American citizen too. However, if you don't mind, we'll leave that for private discussion and not for political trading." The chairman recovered. "That's all very well; but when we ask your people to make sacrifices for the principles of our party----" "Principles of the party--slush! Save that for your platform speeches. You're in the party because there's more in it for you. I'm in it because a man who gave me a square meal when I was starving asked me to join it. And, once in a fight, I stick. I stick because I don't know how to do anything else--and I'm going to stick now. And I'm going out now to New Ireland and talk to them." The door behind Tim opened and a smooth, carefully trained voice said: "What's this about New Ireland?" Tim knew the voice, even before he turned to greet him. It was the tall boss, the real boss, the senior senator, the man who ordered the State committee round even as they ordered the campaign speakers. "New Ireland?" the senator repeated. "No, Mr. Riley. I can give you something better than that. That would be a waste of time. I'll change that right now. Here----"