The Simmons men were holding out, waiting to throw their strength to the winner. When the sixty-seventh ballot had been taken, Muldoon, squinting in the miserable light, at the secretary’s figures, hit the table with the chair leg and said: “On this ballot Conway receives 32, Underwood 32, Simmons 5. There being no choice, you will prepare your ballots for another vote.” Just then one of the Conway men from the Second Ward left his place, and touched one of Nolan’s fellows in the First Ward delegation--Donahue--on the shoulder. Donahue started. The man whispered in his ear, and returned to his delegation, keeping his eye on Donahue. Underwood looked on breathlessly. Nolan, revolving slowly, held his hat for every vote--last of all for Donahue’s. The man dropped his folded ballot into the hat and hung his head. Nolan calmly picked the ballot out of the hat and gave it back to Donahue, who looked up in affected surprise. “What’s the trouble, Malachi?” he said as innocently as he could. He was not much of an actor. “This won’t do,” Nolan said, giving the ballot back to the man. “It’s all right, Malachi, honest to God it is!” protested Donahue. “Thin I’ll just put this wan in for ye, heh?” said Nolan, drawing another ballot from the pocket of his huge waistcoat and poising it above the hat. The crowd had pressed around the First Ward delegation. The convention had risen to its feet, craning red necks, and out of the mass, Grogan cried: “Aw, here, Malachi Nolan, none o’ that now!” Nolan turned his rugged face toward him and said simply: “Who’s runnin’ this dillygation, you or me?” “Well--none o’ your bulldozing--we won’t stand it!” replied Grogan angrily, his blue eyes blazing. “You get to hell out o’ this.” And so saying, Nolan dropped the ballot into the hat and turned to face the chair. “Have you all voted?” inquired Muldoon. “First Ward!” the secretary called. Nolan squared his shoulders, not having looked in his hat or counted the ballots there, and said slowly and impressively: “On behalf av the solid dillygation av the First Ward, I cast twinty-wan votes for John W. Underwood.” “Misther Chairman! Misther Chairman!” cried Grogan, waving his hand in the air, “I challenge that vote! I challenge that vote!” “The gentleman from the Fifth Ward challenges the vote--” “Misther Chairman,” said Nolan, standing with one heavy foot on his chair and leveling a forefinger at Muldoon, “a point of order! The gintleman from the Fifth Ward has no right to challenge the vote av the First Ward--he’s not a mimber of the dillygation!” “Let the First Ward be polled,” calmly ruled Muldoon. Nolan took his foot from his chair and stepped to Donahue’s side. Every man in the First Ward delegation, as his name was called from the credentials, cried “Underwood!” As the secretary neared the name of Donahue, Nolan laid his hand heavily on the fellow’s shoulder. “Donahue!” called the secretary. The fellow squirmed under Nolan’s hand. “Donahue!”