The big man listened, watching him out of half shut
attentive eyes. He had never yet seen a kid glove politician that
was worth the powder to blow him up. Moreover, he had special
reasons for disliking this one. His cousin was editor of the
_World_, and that paper was becoming a thorn in his side.
O'Brien took the cigar from his mouth. "Did youse go to the
primary last night?' he asked.
James did not even know there had been one. He had in point of
fact been at a Country Club dance.
"Can youse tell me what the vote of your precinct was at the last
city election?"
The budding statesman could not.
"What precinct do youse live in?"
Farnum was not quite sure. He explained that he had moved
recently.
Big Tim grunted scornfully. He was pleased to have a chance to
take down the cheek of any Farnum.
"What do youse think you can do?"
"I can make speeches. I'm the best orator that ever came out of
Verden University."
"Tommyrot! How do youse stand in your precinct? Can youse get the
vote out to go down the line for us? That's what counts. Oratory
be damned!"
James was pale with rage. The manner of the boss was nothing less
than insulting.
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