stayed as cool as a cucumber. "Officer," he said, "you are aware that
I am an election official, here under the protection of the law; and
if you refuse me that protection you are liable to a sentence in
State's prison." Then he'd quote another paragraph.

JULIA. It's a wonder he ever held them.

JACK. He did it; he made them throw out forty-seven ballots . . . and
thirty- eight of them were Tammany ballots, too. There was one time
when I thought the gang was going to break loose, and I sneaked out
and telephoned for help. Then I came back and spoke up for him. I
wanted them to know there'd be one witness. You should have seen the
grateful look that Montague gave me.

LAURA. I can imagine it.

JULIA. And how did it end?

JACK. Why, you see, we kept them there till eleven o'clock at night,
and by that time everybody knew that Tammany had won, and the ballots
were not needed. So the old Judge patted us on the back and told us we
were heroes, and invited us out to get drunk with him. Montague and I
walked home together through the election din, and got acquainted. I
don't know that I ever met a man I took to more quickly.

LAURA. You are making a Socialist out of him, of course?

JACK. Oh, he's coming on. But he is not the sort of man to take his
ideas from any one else . . . he wants to see for himself. He hasn't
been in New York long, you know . . . he comes from the South . . .