ere, of election, in the hotbed of
Plutocracy," he assures Trueman.

After a few minutes of further conversation on this line, the betrayer
departs. He is closeted with Marcus an hour later. The scheme for a
counter demonstration in New York is quickly formulated.

Unconscious of the treachery that has been practiced, Trueman prepares
for the trip East.

CHAPTER XVIII.

ON TO NEW YORK.

In all the evening papers the announcement appears that Harvey Trueman
is to start on a tour of the East. The fact that he will leave the city
by train from the Union Depot is carefully suppressed, except in the two
comparatively unimportant journals which advocate the election of the
people's candidate.

But the managers of Trueman's campaign have come to know what has to be
combatted. Handbills are hurriedly printed and distributed in the late
afternoon along State, Clark and Dearborn streets, and on the
intersecting streets in the centre of the business locality. These
hand-bills announce that Trueman will deliver his farewell speech to
Chicagoans that night at seven o'clock at the Adams street Bridge.

At six o'clock the crowds begin congregating; they come from all
sections of the city; they are of every type, from the cowboy of the
Stock Yards to the Street Railway Magnate. All are intent on hearing the
captivating orator.

Ten thousand people huddle in an area of five blocks. They know that
they all cannot hear Trueman; yet they hope to catch a glimpse of him,
and perhaps hear him make a short speech in their immediate
neighborhood.

It is 6.50 when a hansom conveying Trueman hurries down Adams street
from State. The crowds cheer and yell. From a trot the horse attached to
the vehicle is forced to proceed at a walk.

"Speech! speech!" cry the excited men as they surge through the narrow
thoroughfare.

Trueman stands up in the hansom and leaning forward explains that he
cannot stop to make a speech at every corner.

The few words he addresses to the crowd seem to satisfy their demands,
and they at once subside.

Slowly the speaker approaches the throng at the Depot steps. In crossing
the bridge he twice has to comply with the persistent demand for a
speech.

Now he is on the platform.

His voice works a magic spell on the audience. They have been
boisterous, fretful, even at times disorderly. Not a dozen words are
uttered by Trueman and the silence, save for his ringing voice, is
intense.

"I am leav