Part 53 (1/2)

”A wager to you boys that none of you can name the state from which the first completed return will come. What odds will you give?” said ”King”

Plummer, who was resolutely seeking to be cheerful.

”We won't take your wager because we'd win, sure,” said Hobart. ”It will be a precinct in New York City, up-town. They get through quick there; they never fail to be first.”

”Whatever the vote there is, I am going to look upon it as an omen,”

said Mr. Heathcote. ”If our majority is reduced it will mean a bad start, good ending; if our majority is increased, it will mean that a good beginning is half the battle.”

Dexter, the chairman of the state campaign committee, entered, his thin face still shadowed by gloomy thoughts.

”We've had a few bulletins at headquarters, but nothing definite,” he said. ”All the reports so far are from the East, of course, owing to the difference in time, but I'd like mighty well to know what they are doing out there on the Slope and in the Rockies.”

”We'll know in good time, Charlie; just you wait,” said Jimmy Grayson, who was the calmest man in the room.

”I've done enough waiting already to last me the rest of my life,” said Dexter, moodily.

The door was opened softly, and four or five pairs of young eyes peeped shyly into the room. The candidate, with a.s.surances that there was nothing to be told, gently pushed the youthful figures away and closed the door again.

”I would put them to bed,” he said, apologetically, ”but they can't sleep, and it is not any use for them to try; so they are supposed to be shepherded in another part of the house by a nurse, but they seem to break the bounds now and then.”

”I claim the privilege of carrying them the good news when we get it, if they are still awake,” said Harley.

A messenger-boy entered with a despatch, but it contained no information, merely an a.s.surance from a devoted New England adherent that he believed Jimmy Grayson was elected, as he felt it in his bones.

”Why does a man waste time and money in telegraphing us a thing like that?” said Dexter. ”It isn't worth anything.”

But Harley was not so sure. He believed with Jimmy Grayson that good wishes had more than a sentimental value. He went to the window and gazed into the street. The number of people singing campaign songs as they waited for the news was increasing, and the echoes of much laughter and talk floated towards the house. Farther down the street they were throwing flash-lights on white canvas in front of a great crowd, but so far the bulletins were only humorous quotations or patent-medicine advertis.e.m.e.nts, each to be saluted at the beginning with a cheer and at the end with a groan. He turned back to the table just as another boy bearing a despatch entered the room.

Mr. Dexter had const.i.tuted himself the clerk of the evening--that is, he was to sit at the centre-table and read the despatches as they came. He took the yellow envelope from the boy, tore it open, and paused a moment. Then all knew by the change upon his face that the first news had come. Dexter turned to Hobart.

”You were right,” he said, ”it is from New York City, up-town. The Thirty-first a.s.sembly District in the City of New York gives a majority of 824 for Grayson. This is official.”

At another table sat a man with a book containing the complete vote of all the election districts in every state of the Union at the preceding Presidential election. All looked inquiringly at him, and he instantly made the comparison.

”We carried the Thirty-first a.s.sembly District of the City of New York by 1077 four years ago,” he said. ”Our majority suffers a net loss of 253.”

”Did I not tell you?” exclaimed Heathcote. ”A bad start makes a good ending.”

”It's a happy sign,” said Sylvia, with her usual resolute hopefulness.

But, despite themselves, a gloom settled upon all; the first report from the battle was ominous--such a loss continued would throw the election heavily in favor of the other man--and after her remark they were silent.

Mrs. Grayson looked into the room, but they told her there was nothing, and, whether she believed them or not, she closed the door again without further question.

”Here comes another boy,” said Hobart, who was at the window, watching the crowd before the transparency.

”Now this is good news, sure,” said ”King” Plummer.

It was from another a.s.sembly district in New York City, and the party majority was cut down again, but this time the reduction was only 62 votes.