we would all be out of jobs." The chairman's voice, that was.

Tim opened the door, and when they looked up and saw him it was as if
they had all been clutched by the windpipes.

"Go to the devil--all of you!" exploded the new man. "Do you hear? Every
mother's son of you!"

From out the silence some one at last said: "You mean, Mr. Riley, you
are going to desert the party?"

Tim whirled on him.

"No; it doesn't mean I'm going to desert the party. Did ever you know a
man who was any good to desert any party or anything, good or bad, under
fire?"

"I'm glad to hear that." The chairman had come to life. "And not alone
because we would lose you, eloquent though you are reported to be. So
many of our people have maintained that no Irishman----"

"Cut that Irishman stuff! My chance to make a living, and my children's
chance after me, I owe to this country."

"But, Mr. Riley, you are of Irish blood."

"Irish blood? You may be sure I am, and so proud of it that when I speak
of it I slop over; but I'm an American citizen too. However, if you
don't mind, we'll leave that for private discussion and not for
political trading."

The chairman recovered.

"That's all very well; but when we ask your people to make sacrifices
for the principles of our party----"

"Principles of the party--slush! Save that for your platform speeches.
You're in the party because there's more in it for you. I'm in it
because a man who gave me a square meal when I was starving asked me to
join it. And, once in a fight, I stick. I stick because I don't know how
to do anything else--and I'm going to stick now. And I'm going out now
to New Ireland and talk to them."

The door behind Tim opened and a smooth, carefully trained voice said:
"What's this about New Ireland?"

Tim knew the voice, even before he turned to greet him. It was the tall
boss, the real boss, the senior senator, the man who ordered the State
committee round even as they ordered the campaign speakers.

"New Ireland?" the senator repeated. "No, Mr. Riley. I can give you
something better than that. That would be a waste of time. I'll change
that right now. Here----"

"Excuse me, sir; but I'm going to New Ireland. I don't know what kind
of a place it is or what kind they are there, except what the name tells
me, and I don't care--I'm going there. No gang of men ever picked me for
an omadhaun in the morning but found out they were mistaken before
night. And I'll say further