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The other officers were elected in the same way. They were there for business. They pa.s.sed immediately to the nominations, and there was the same unanimity all down the ticket until the nominations for the county auditor began.
A small man lifted his hand and cried, "I nominate James McGann of Rock for auditor."
There was a little silence followed by murmurs of disapproval. The first false note had been struck. Someone seconded the motion. The chairman's gavel fell.
"I want to ask the secretary to take the chair for a few minutes," he said, and there was something in his voice that meant business.
Something ominous. The delegates pressed closer. The secretary took the chair. "I've got something to say right here," Ridings began.
"Fellow-citizens, we're here in a big fight. We can't afford t' make any mistake. We can't afford to be tolled off the track by a bag of anise seed. Who is the man makin' this motion? Does anybody know him? I do. He's a spy. He's sent here f'r a purpose. Suppose he'd nominated a better man? His motion would have been out of place. His nomination of Jim McGann was a trick. Jim McGann can't git a pound o' sugar on credit in his own town. He never had any credit n'r influence. Why was he nominated? Simply to make us ridiculous--a laughin' stock. I want to put you on your guard. If we win it's got t' be in a straight fight.
That's all I've got t' say. Recognize no nomination that don't come from a man y' know."
The convention clamored its approval, and the small spy and trickster slunk away and disappeared. There was a certain majesty in the action of this group of roused farmers. Nominations were seconded and ratified with shouts, even down through the most important officers in the county and town. It was magnificent to see how deep was the harmony of action.
Deering was forced to accept the nomination for treasurer by this feeling of the unanimity and genuineness which pervaded each succeeding action, and when the vote was called, and the men thrust their hands in the air and shouted, they had something of the same feeling that lay at the heart of the men of Uri, and Unterwalden, and Schwyz when they shouted their votes together in the valley with the mighty cordon of guarding mountains around them.
The grange had made this convention and its magnificent action possible. Each leading member of the grange, through its festivals, and picnics, and inst.i.tutes, had become known to the rest, and they were able to choose their leaders instantly. The ticket as it stood was very strong. Deering as treasurer and Councill as sheriff, insured success so far as these officers were concerned.
On the way home Councill shouted back at the young men riding with Jennings: "Now's a good time for you young chaps t' take the field and lectioneer while we nominees wear biled collars, and set in the parlor winder."
"What you want to do is stay at home and dig taters," shouted Milton.
"A biled collar would defeat any one of yeh, dead sure."
This was, in fact, the plan of the campaign.
Amos Ridings a.s.sumed practical direction of it.
"Now we don't want a candidate to go out--not once. Every man stay at home and not open his head. We'll do the work. You tend your knittin'
and we'll elect yeh."
The boys went out on Friday nights, to electioneer for the Granger ticket, as it was called.
"It's boss fun," Milton said to his father. "It's ahead o' husking corn. It does tickle me to see the future sheriff of the county diggin'
pertaters while I'm ridin' around in my best clo'es makin' speeches."
"We'll have the whip-row on you when we get into office," replied Mr.
Jennings.
"Don't crow till y'r out o' the woods," laughed Milton.
The boys really aroused considerable enthusiasm, and each had stanch admirers, though they were entirely opposed in style. Milton told a great many funny stories, and went off on what he considered to be the most approved oratorical flights. He called on the farmers to stand together. He asked them whether it was fair that the town should have all the offices. In short, he made very taking political harangues.
Bradley always arose in the same slow way. He was a little heavy in getting started. His deep voice was thick and husky at beginning, but cleared as he went on. His words came slowly, as if each were an iron weight. He dealt in facts--or what he believed to be facts. He had carefully collated certain charges which had been made against the officials of the county, and in his perfectly fearless way of stating them, there was immense power.
VIII.
BRADLEY OFFENDS NETTIE'S FATHER.
It was a singular thing to see the farmers suddenly begin to ask themselves why they should stand quietly by while the townsmen monopolized all the offices and defied the farmers to make a change.
They laughed at the charges of chicanery in office, and openly said that "no man with corns on his hands and hayseed in his hair can be elected to office in the county." This speech was of the greatest value to the young champions. It became their text.
The speech that made Bradley famous among the farmers came about the middle of October. It was an open-air meeting in the Cottonwood towns.h.i.+p, one Sat.u.r.day afternoon. He and Milton drove out to their appointment in a carriage which Milton had borrowed. It was a superb Indian summer day, and they were both very happy. Each had his individual way of showing it. Milton put his heels on the dash-board, and sung or whistled all the way out, stopping only occasionally to say:
"Aint this boss? This is what I call doin' a thing up brown. Wish I could do this for a stiddy business."
Bradley smiled at his companion's fun. He felt the pride and glory of it all, but he couldn't express it as Milton did. It was such a magnificent thing to be thus selected to push on a campaign. The mere idea of the crowd waiting out there for their arrival had something royal in it. And then this riding away into a practically unknown part of the county to speak before perfect strangers had an epic quality.
Great things seemed coming to him.
They found quite an a.s.sembly of farmers, notwithstanding the busy season. It showed how deep was the interest in the campaign, and Milton commented upon it in beginning his speech.
"If a farmer ever gets his share of things, he's got to take time to turn out to caucuses and meetings, and especially he's got to stop work and vote."
Bradley arose after Milton's speech, which pleased the farmers with its shrewdness and drollery, feeling at a great disadvantage.
"My colleague," he began (preserving the formality of the Delta Society debates), "has told you of the ring that has controlled the officers of this county for so long, but he hasn't told you of the inside facts. I aint fightin' in this campaign to put the town people out and the farmers in; I'm fightin' to put thieves out and honest men in."
This was a blow straight out from the shoulder and was followed by great applause. But a few voices cried:
"Take that back!"
"I won't take anything back that I know is the truth."
"Yes, you will! That's a lie, an' you know it!" shouted an excited man a short distance away.
"Let me tell you a story," Bradley went on slowly. "Last session of court a friend of mine was on the jury. When court adjourned, he took his order on the county to the treasurer and asked for his pay. The treasurer said, 'I'm sorry, but they aint any funds left for the jurors' fees.'
"'Can't you give me some out of some other fund?'
"'No, that won't do--can't do that.'
"'Well, when will yeh have some money in?'
"'Well, it's hard tellin'--in two or three months, probably.'
"'Well, I'd like the money on this order. I need it. Can't I git somebody to cash it for me?'
"'Well, I dunno. I guess they'll take it at the store. My brother John might cash it--possibly, as an accommodation.'
"Well, my friend goes over to Brother John's bank, and Brother John cashes the order, and gives him eight dollars for it. Brother John then turns in the order to the treasurer and gets twelve dollars for it, and then they 'divvy' on the thing. Now, how's that for a nice game?"
"It's a d.a.m.n lie!" shouted an excited man in the foreground. He had his sleeves rolled up and kept up a continual muttering growl.
"It's the truth," repeated Bradley. There was a strong Russell contingent in the meeting, and they were full of fight. The angry man in front repeated his shout:
"That's a lie! Take it back, or I'll yank yeh off'n that wagon box."