Throne in "The Store."
The firm of McDonald, Lawrence and Martin had opened up the resort known as "The Store" on Clark street, on the northwest corner of Monroe street, where the Hamilton Club stands today. The first floor was operated as a saloon, and the floors above as gambling rooms. After public sentiment became aroused over the bunko business of the firm, Lawrence and Martin drew out, leaving McDonald to run "The Store" alone.
"The Store" was the most famous place in Chicago in those days. It was not only the rendezvous of all the sporting men, politicians and denizens of the underworld in Chicago, but it was virtually the city hall, for from his little office in "The Store" McDonald managed the affairs of the city.
Every form of gambling known flourished on that wonderful second floor. The most expert manipulators of cards that ever dealt a second or shifted a cold deck sat behind the tables. They were Clif Doherty, Frank Gallon, Billy Tyler, Charles Winship and George Noyse.
High-ball poker, in which the roller holds the high ball in his fist and rolls it to the cappers continuously, and faro, with fifty-three cards in the deck, so that the odd could be dealt, were said to have always prevailed in "The Store."
"There never was an honest card dealt in the place," is the epitaph one old-time gambler has written on its dead proprietor.
Big as the place was, it was always crowded. McDonald is said to have coined a very common phrase when, on one occasion, one of his dealers protested against putting in more tables and increasing the size of the gambling rooms.
"I tell you, Mike," he said, "we won't have enough players to fill up all the games."
"Ah, don't worry," McDonald is said to have replied, "there's a sucker born every minute."
In politics McDonald's first great triumph was when he elected Colvin mayor on the democratic ticket. Then he put the elder Harrison in the mayoralty chair, and after that he had plain sailing. His control lasted during the entire Harrison administration of eight years. In all that time there was no bigger man in Chicago than Mike McDonald.
The only time he met with a serious set-back was in 1882, when he tried to elect William J. McGarigle, then chief of police, sheriff of Cook county.