All he needed was the chance.
With the passing months he grew more restless at the delay. There
were moments in the night when he trembled lest some stroke of
evil fate might fall upon him before he had carved his name in the
niche of fame. To sit in an empty law office and wait for clients
took more patience than he could summon. He wanted an opportunity
to make speeches in the campaign that was soon to open. That he
finally went to Big Tim himself about it instead of to his ward
committeeman was characteristic of James K.
After he sent his card in the young lawyer was kept waiting for
thirty-five minutes in an outer office along with a Jew peddler, a
pugilist ward heeler, an Irish saloonkeeper, and a brick
contractor. Naturally he was exceedingly annoyed. O'Brien ought to
know that James K. Farnum did not rank with this riff-raff.
When at last James got into the holy of holies he found Big Tim
lolling back in his swivel chair with a fat cigar in his mouth.
The boss did not take the trouble to rise as he waved his visitor
to a chair.
Farnum explained that he was interested in the political situation
and that he was prepared to take an active part in the campaign
about to open.
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