"You keep a saloon."

"Yes. An' what ward do Oi live in?"

"The sixth, don't you?"

"Then," said Dennis, his upper lip twisting into a smile of enormous proportions, "Oi suppose yez afther thinkin' Oi'm a dirty black Republican."

Peter laughed, as few could help doing, when Dennis led the way. "Look here, Dennis," he said, "don't you run down that party. My father was a Democrat, but he voted for Lincoln, and fought for the blacks when the time came, and though I'm a Democrat like him, the Republicans are only black in their sympathies, and not in their acts."

"An' what do yez say to the whisky frauds, an' black Friday, an' credit mobilier?" asked Dennis.

"Of course I don't like them," said Peter; "but that's the politicians, not the party."

"Shure," said Dennis, "what's the party but the men that run it?"

"You've seen something of Mr. Bohlmann lately, Dennis?"

"Yes."

"Well, he was the man who put Goldman in charge of that cow stable. Yet he's an honest man."

Dennis scratched his head. "It's a convincin' way yez have wid yez," he said; "but it's scoundrels the Republicans are, all the same. Look at them in the district; there's not one a decent man would invite to drink wid him."

"I think, Dennis," said Peter, "that when all the decent men get into one party, there'll be only one worth talking about."

"Av course," replied Dennis. "That's the reason there's only the Democratic party in New York City."

"Tell me about this primary," said Peter, concluding that abstract political philosophy was not the way to liberalize Dennis.

"It's most important, it is," he was told, "it's on top Patsy Blunkers an' his gang av dirty spalpeens (Dennis seemed to forget that he had just expressed the opinion that all the "decent" men were Democrats) have been this two years, but we've got orders for a new enrollment at last, an' if we don't knock them this time, my name isn't Dinnis Moriarty."

"What is the question before the meeting?"

"Afther the enrollment, it's to vote for delegates."

"Oh! Then it's just a struggle over who shall be elected?"

"That's it. But a fine, big fight it will be. The whole district's so excited, sir, that it's twice Oi've had to pound the b'ys a bit in my saloon to keep the peace."

"What do you want of me?"

"Shure, every vote counts on a night like this. An' ye'd be afther helpin' us big, for the district likes yez."

"But, Dennis, I can't vote without knowing something about the way things are. I shouldn't know whether I was voting rightly."

"Why, a man votes right when he votes for his friends!"

"No; a man votes right when he votes for his convictions."

"Convictions, is it?"

"Yes. That is, he votes as he thinks is best for the country."

"That, maybe, is the way yez do it where yez come from," said Dennis, "but it's no good it would be here. Convictions, whatever they be, are never nominated here. It's real things we're afther votin' for in New York."

Peter laughed. "I've got to take you in hand, Dennis, and you've got to take me in hand. I think we both need each other's help. Yes, I'll come to the primary. Will they let me vote?"

"The dirty spalpeens will never dare to stop yez! Thank yez, sir. Oi'll be along for yez about eight."

"Remember, though, Dennis--I don't say how I'll vote."

"Yez just listen, an I'm not afraid av what ye'll do."

That evening, Peter was ushered into a large hot room, pretty well packed with men, and the interstices already filled in with dense tobacco smoke. He looked about him curiously, and was surprised to find how many of the faces he knew. Blackett, Dooley, and Milligan were there, and shook hands with him warmly. Judge Gallagher and Blunkers were in evidence. In plain clothes were two policemen, and three of the "fire-laddies," who formed part of the "crew" of the nearest engine, with all of whom he had often chatted. Mr. Dummer, his rival lawyer in the case, and one of the jurymen in it, likewise were visible. Also many faces which were familiar to Peter by a former occasional friendly word or nod exchanged in pa.s.sing. Intense excitement evidently reigned, and every one was whispering in a sort of breathless way, which showed how deeply interested they were.

At Dennis's suggestion, made in walking to the room, Peter presented himself without guidance, at the desk. Some one behind him asked if he lived in the ward, and for how long, but this was the only apparent opposition made to the prompt entering of his name. Then Peter strolled round and talked to those whom he knew, and tried to find out, without much success, just what was the division. Every one knew that a fight was on, but in just what it consisted they seemed neither to know nor care.

He noticed that hot words were constantly exchanged at the enrolling desk, over would-be members, but not understanding the exact nature of the qualifications needed, he could not follow the disputes. Finally these ceased, for want of applicants.

"Misther Stirling," said Dennis, coming up to him hurriedly. "Will yez be afther bein' chairman for us?"

"No. I don't know anything about the proceedings."

"It don't take any," said Dennis. "It's only fair play we're afther."

He was gone again before Peter could say anything. The next instant, the enrolling officer rose and spoke.

"Are there any more to be enrolled?" he called. No one came forward, so after a moment he said: "Will the meeting choose a presiding officer?"

"Mr. Chairman," rang two voices so quickly that they in truth cut the presiding officer off in his suggestion.

"Mr. Muldoon," said that officer.

"Oi spoke first," shouted Dennis, and Peter felt that he had, and that he was not having fair play.

Instantly a wave of protest, denials, charges, and counter-charges swept through the room, Peter thought there was going to be a fight, but the position was too critical to waste a moment on what Dennis styled "a diversion." It was business, not pleasure, just then.

"Mr. Muldoon," said the officer again, not heeding the tempest in the least.

"Mr. Chairman," shouted Muldoon, "I am proud to nominate Justice Gallagher, the pride of the bar, for chairman of this distinguished meeting, and I move to make his election unanimous."

"Misther Chairman," shouted Dennis.

"Mr. Moriarty," said the officer.

"Misther Chairman, Oi have the honor to nominate for chairman av this meetin' the people's an' the children's friend, Misther Peter Stirling, an' Oi don't have to move to make it unanimous, for such is the intelligince an' manhood av this meetin' that it will be that way for shure."

Peter saw a hurried consultation going on between Gallagher, Muldoon, and two others, during the latter part of this speech, and barely had Dennis finished his remarks, when Justice Gallagher spoke up.