retty soon they had a grand opening night; and there was a brass band,
which marched through the streets, and fireworks and bombs and red
lights in front of the hall; and there was an enormous crowd, with
two overflow meetings--so that the pale and trembling candidate had to
recite three times over the little speech which one of Scully's henchmen
had written, and which he had been a month learning by heart. Best
of all, the famous and eloquent Senator Spareshanks, presidential
candidate, rode out in an automobile to discuss the sacred privileges
of American citizenship, and protection and prosperity for the American
workingman. His inspiriting address was quoted to the extent of half a
column in all the morning newspapers, which also said that it could be
stated upon excellent authority that the unexpected popularity developed
by Doyle, the Republican candidate for alderman, was giving great
anxiety to Mr. Scully, the chairman of the Democratic City Committee.

The chairman was still more worried when the monster torchlight
procession came off, with the members of the Doyle Republican
Association all in red capes and hats, and free beer for every voter in
the ward--the best beer ever given away in a political campaign, as
the whole electorate testified. During this parade, and at innumerable
cart-tail meetings as well, Jurgis labored tirelessly. He did not make
any speeches--there were lawyers and other experts for that--but he
helped to manage things; distributing notices and posting placards and
bringing out the crowds; and when the show was on he attended to the
fireworks and the beer. Thus in the course of the campaign he handled
many hundreds of dollars of the Hebrew brewer's money, administering it
with naive and touching fidelity. Toward the end, however, he learned
that he was regarded with hatred by the rest of the "boys," because he
compelled them either to make a poorer showing than he or to do without
their share of the pie. After that Jurgis did his best to please them,
and to make up for the time he had lost before he discovered the extra
bungholes of the campaign barrel.

He pleased Mike Scully, also. On election morning he was out at four
o'clock, "getting out the vote"; he had a two-horse carriage to ride in,
and he went from house to house for his friends, and escorted them in
triumph to the polls. He voted half a dozen times himself, and voted
some of his friends as often; he brought bunch after bunch