At length he forced attention. The Democratic party in its Baltimore convention incorporated a plank in its platform which pledged the party to the abrogation of treaties obligating the United States to hunt down and return as criminals the deserters from foreign ships in American ports and to general legislation in the interest of the seamen. Senator Lafollette introduced the Seaman’s bill. That, however, was only a beginning and did not necessarily signify anything. The bill was certain to encounter the most bitter opposition of the most powerful interests, and senators naturally ultra-conservative were certain to find plausible reasons for opposition in the protests of foreign governments. The only hope was in enlisting the active sympathy and interest of an influential leader of the majority, and Furseth was urged to present his case to Senator Kern. I shall let Furseth tell the story of his first call on Kern: “Shortly after the senator came to the senate I went to him and asked his permission to tell him about the seamen. He had no time then, but told me to come to his hotel. Upon my arrival at the appointed time I told him it would take me at least twenty minutes to give him some idea of what I had to say. He told me to go ahead. I did and I was with him for about an hour and a half. In a quiet easy way he encouraged me to talk, and I told him about the seaman’s daily life on the vessel, but more so on the shore. At sea, the terrible quarters, the ceaseless toil, the poor food, the general treatment and the longing to get away from the life which was degraded by involuntary servitude and a feeling of helplessness. On shore, the power of the Crimp to dictate our wages and take away what we were to earn in the form of advance or ‘allotment to the original creditor,’ as the thing was called; the power to compel us to go to sea in any vessel and with any kind of men--destitute poor devils who set our wages when we were hired and whose work we had to do at sea because they could not. With it all a feeling that we were forgotten by God and held in bitter contempt by men on shore. When I stopped he would ask a question and set me going again, and then he said--‘I shall see whether we can not help you.’ “And he certainly did. I tried not to go to him too often; but it was often and he was always kind and encouraging. I always left him with more hope in my heart, and sometimes I needed it sorely. If God ever placed upon the shoulders of men a part of the burdens of others the senator was surely one of those men. My burden was always lighter and my heart more free when I left him.