“Here’s them two old guys doin’ the love feast stunt,” sneered young Kelly, “right out in the open. It’s bin fixed to cop votes with; a blind man kin see that. It makes me sick!” “We’ll do that all right,” said Goose McGonagle; “youse’ll all be a sick lot o’ ducks after we slam youse a few.” The procession had broken ranks; the members of the band had blown themselves breathless and beaten their arms helpless, and now dispersed into saloons adjacent to the hall to seek refreshment. The delegates, by degrees, began to drift upstairs to the room where the convention was to be held. Here a band, perched in a little gallery at the back, discoursed music; a flag hung from every point where it was possible to drive a nail; the platform stood at the far end holding an array of chairs and tables. Dick Nolan and Roddy Ferguson, who formed the connecting links between the formerly hostile factions of Gartenheim and O’Connor, were working desperately with delegates; they felt that it depended upon them to secure a solid vote from these two bodies, and they spared themselves no effort. Neither the undertaker nor the contractor had been active in the canvass, so their personal followings were not heavy in the convention; but it served to give the anti-Kelly faction a slight advantage that they were compelled to exert themselves to the utmost to sustain. Each man in the hall with a ballot to cast was under pressure to vote against them, and the pressure would be increased a hundred-fold when McQuirk got upon the ground. Gartenheim had Larry Murphy in a corner giving him some fatherly advice; O’Connor stood listening, with approving nods; Kerrigan, red-faced and perspiring, came bustling up. “Gentlemen,” asked he, “who are you for, for chairman?” “Who do you want?” asked Gartenheim. “Well, I’d like to see Pete Comisky hold the office. He’s a straight man.” “Peter’s all right,” said O’Connor. “Who do you say, Larry?” inquired Kerrigan. “Grat Haley.” “Haley!” Kerrigan stared at him amazedly. “Haley! Why you’re mad. Haley would rule against us every time.” “He might--if we let him. It’s just like this. Haley’s got the chairmanship cinched; no one else can win against him; I’ve been over the bunch, and I know.” Larry took his cigar from his mouth and pointed it at Kerrigan, impressively. “The chairmanship’s the first test o’ strength. Make a fight on that and lose, and youse might as well chuck up the sponge, on the spot. We’ve got grafters on our side, Johnnie, and you know it; if they see us shake they’ll fly the coop.” “That sounds good,” admitted Kerrigan. “What do you suggest?” “We’ll t’row our vote to Haley; they can’t see our hand then; and we’ll hold all our people for the real work.” “But Daily and Levitsky!” remonstrated Kerrigan. “He’ll seat them, they’ll vote and they have no right!” “They kin seat all they want,” determinedly, “but they don’t vote for Kelly.”