On July 3, the day before the convention met, A. S. Tibbets of Lincoln, another delegate-at-large from Nebraska, threw this bomb-shell: “Bryan will not run on any platform which does not contain a specific declaration in favor of free coinage at the ratio of sixteen to one. If this convention does not put that declaration in the platform it will have to nominate another candidate for president.” This authorized statement was a bugle call to Democrats, reminding them that parties are founded on the bed-rock of principle, and that platforms are made unequivocally to express convictions. Many of the leaders of the party, assembled at Kansas City, took their stand by Bryan’s side, and the fight for sturdy, honest, and manly candor waged fiercely to the end. Ex-Governor Hill, who had returned from Lincoln, alone among the leaders who had fought for a specific silver plank, boldly and openly continued his fight. He is a hard and stubborn fighter, and he centered his efforts on the organization of the committee on resolutions. He sent for heads of delegations known to be favorable to his plan, and urged upon them the necessity of selecting “careful, conservative, long-headed men,” as members of that important committee. He argued vehemently for the necessity of such action as would “reorganize the party” and make victory assured. “Good God, gentlemen,” the famous New Yorker exclaimed to one delegation with which he was closeted, “we must not lose this election. It means fifty years of republican rule. And if we are wise,” he said, wagging his head solemnly, “we will not lose it. The people want to be with us. Shall we be so generous”—with an oratorical flourish and Frenchified shrug of his expressive shoulders—“as to refuse to allow them to fight our battles?” Here a Kansan spoke up. “I am not a delegate, senator,” he said, “but I want a conservative platform. If we don’t get it I’ll go home and quit, and I’ve voted the Democratic ticket for fifty years.” “Wait, wait, my friend,” came the quick response; “don’t, don’t, I pray you, say that. Whether the platform pleases us or not, we must fight, fight to win, fight to the death.” The eyes of the shrewd and wily politician flashed. In quick, nervous staccato he continued: “Mark my words, mark my words. If McKinley and a Republican Congress are elected inside the year a force bill will be fastened upon us. Why? Kentucky; that will be the excuse. And the next move—do you know what it will be? On the pretext that the negro vote is not cast nor counted, the representation of the southern states in Congress will be reduced. Their vote in the electoral college will be diminished, and they’ll have the Democratic party by the throat, bound hand and foot. We must not permit it. We must not.” The second day before the convention met, the writer of this chapter, in a dispatch to the Omaha _World-Herald_, said: