on his head.

When it came time to qualify and be sworn into office I found trouble.
The Republican boss was disgruntled because only one Republican was
elected while the Democrats got everything else. He wanted me to give up
the office. "Let the tail go with the hide," he said. "Let 'em have it
all." His idea was to give the Democrats a closed family circle, so that
when temptation came along, they would feel safe in falling for it. He
feared that a Republican in the house to watch them would scare them
away from the bait. He wanted them to take bribes and be ruined by the
scandal, and that would bring the Republicans back to power. It was a
good enough way to "turn the rogues out" by first letting them become
rogues, but my heart was not set on party success only. I believed in
protecting the public. So I went ahead and got bondsmen to qualify me.
But as often as I got men to sign my bond, the boss went them and got
them off again. A firm of lawyers, Greenlee & Call, stood by me in my
struggle to make my bond. These men were ten years older than I. I was
twenty-five. They acted as godfathers to me. They gave me the use of
their library, and throughout my term as city clerk I spent my nights
poring over their law books. I became well grounded in municipal law
and municipal finance. I was able to pay back their kindness some years
later when C. M. Greenlee aspired to be judge of the Superior Court of
Madison County. I went to the convention as a delegate and worked hard
for Judge Greenlee until he was nominated, and elected.

The city administration of which I was a member let many contracts. As
I said before, a cross-roads town had become a city and there were miles
of paving and sewer to put in, and scores of public buildings to go up.
Old Francis Harbit was the Democratic mayor, and he didn't intend
that the contractors should graft on the city nor give boodle to the
officials. I remember one stirring occasion. There was a big contract
for sewers to be let, and if a certain bid should go through, the
contractor would profit greatly. Big Jeff Rowley (I'll call him) was the
grafting contractor who had ruined the Republican administration. He was
six feet, two inches tall in his stocking feet. He had put in his
sealed bid and then had approached everybody with his proposition. His
overtures were scorned and he was told that we were not out for boodle
but were "playing the game on the square" (that had been my campaign