they fall down to it like dead soldiers. Nope, you got to find that out for yerself.”
And an idea struck him. “Maybe you can,” he said. “Now, maybe you can. I’ll get a wagon and we’ll go chase Mark out to the railroad yards, and you’ll listen to him yerself, and maybe you can tell me.”
Out to the yards we went, and we joined the Mayor. He was going up to a group of men, who stopped work, wiped their hands on their clothes, and formed a shy group.
“I’m Mark Fagan,” said the Mayor as shyly. “I have tried to serve you honestly and faithfully. I don’t know how well, but you know my record. That’s the way to judge a man — by his record. And if you don’t understand anything in it, I’d like to have you ask me about it. If you think I have done right in most things, I’d like to have your support.”
That was all. They shook hands, saying nothing, and he moved on.
“Understand that?” said Connelly at my elbow. “Every one of ’em ’ll vote for him. Why? What’s there to it?”
Mark climbed up into the switch tower and began: “I am Mark Fagan-”
“You needn’t waste your time here,” said the tower man, looking around steadily. “I
