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. 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