entative
That would not come into camp, Towle, with an oath, would say: "Take me
to him, and I'll have his vote in ten minutes or there'll be occasion
for a new election in his district to-morrow!"

Second in command was Mr. Patch, Towle's secretary and factotum, his
exact opposite in every way. Where Towle was brutally straight to the
point, Mr. Patch was as smooth an intriguer as ever connected himself
with secrets by way of keyholes and transoms. It is a Beacon Hill
tradition that for years Towle on final-payment day would have the
members of the Massachusetts Legislature march through his private
offices one at a time, and, handing each of them their loot, would
proclaim: "Well, you're settled with in full, aren't you? That
represents your vote on ---- and on ----." Then he would loudly identify
the bill and the particulars of the service, while behind a partition
with a stenographer would be Mr. Patch, who after the notes had been
written out would witness the accuracy of the stenographer's report.
When the Legislature assembled again, old members, the same story goes,
would be requested to call on Towle to renew acquaintanceship. Then he
would allow them to look over his memoranda "just to keep them from
being too honest," as he gently phrased it.

Subordinate to Towle and Patch was a long line of eminently respectable
lawyers known over the Commonwealth as "Whitney's attorneys." These men
assisted at nominations, orated at elections, and took care of the finer
preliminary details. The first line of attack was composed of practical
politicians of various grades--ex-senators or representatives, and local
bosses, who were known as "Whitney's right-hand men." Below these were
the ordinary lobbyists, the detectives, and runners, who kept "tabs" on
every move and deed, day and night, of the members of the Legislature.
This was the Whitney machine, and it worked together with that fine
solidity and evenness which can be attained only by constant practice
and much success. In comparison with this competent organization, an
average "Tammany Gang," a "Chicago Combine," or a "St. Louis Syndicate"
would look like a hay-covered snow-plough in August.

It is seldom the public is given an opportunity of seeing a picture,
drawn to life, of the Legislature of one of the greatest States in the
Union in the act of being bribed to grant the votaries of "Frenzied
Finance," for nothing, those things which should and do belong to the