“What shall we call it?” I asked, as I arose to go.
“Give it an Indian name,” said Big Kennedy. “S'p-pose you call it the Red Jacket Association.”
Within the fortnight the Red Jackets held their maiden meeting. It was an hour rife of jubilation, fellowship, and cheer. While abstinence from drink was my guiding phrase, I made no point of that kind in the conduct of others, and a nearby brewery having contributed unlimited beer those whom it pleased lacked no reason for a light heart.
As Big Kennedy had advised, I was chosen for the double responsibilities of president and treasurer. I may say in my own compliment, however, that these honors came drifting to my feet. There were reasons for this aside from any stiffness of heart or fist-virtues which might be mine. I have said that I was by disposition as taciturn as a tree, and this wondrous gift of silence earned me the name of wisdom, I was looked upon as one whose depth was rival to the ocean's. Stronger still, as the argument by which I rose, was my sobriety. The man who drinks, and whether it be little or much, never fails to save his great respect for him who sets whisky aside.
“An' now,” remarked Big Kennedy, when the club had found fortunate birth, “with these Red Jackets to make the decent front, th' Tin Whistles to fall back on for the rough work, and Gaffney out of th' way, I call th' ward cleaned up. I'll tell you this, my son: after th' next election you shall have an office, or there's no such man as Big John Kennedy.” He smote the table with his heavy hand until the glasses danced.
“But I won't be of age,” I suggested.
“What's the difference?” said Big Kennedy. “We'll play that you are, d'ye see. There'll be no one fool enough to talk about your age if I'm at your side. We'll make it a place in the dock department; that'll be about your size. S'ppose we say a perch where there's twelve hundred dollars a year, an' nothin' to do but draw th' scads an' help your friends.”
Jimmy the Blacksmith was an under-captain of Big Kennedy's and prevailed as vote-master in the northern end of the ward. Within certain fixed frontiers, which ran on one side within a block of my home, it was the business of Jimmy the Blacksmith to have watch and ward. He had charge of what meetings were held, and under the thumb of Big Kennedy carried forward the campaign, and on election day got out the vote.
Having given the question its share of thought, I determined for myself on a forward, upward step. My determination—heart and soul—became agate-hard to drive Jimmy the Blacksmith from his place, and set up my own rule over that slender kingdom.
Nor would I say aught to Big Kennedy of this private war which I meditated. Not that he would have interfered either to thwart or aid me, but by the ethics of the situation, to give him such notice was neither proper nor expected. To fight Jimmy the Blacksmith for his crown was not only right by every rule of ward justice, but it was the thing encouraged as a plan best likely to bring the strongest to the fore. Take what you may, keep what you can! was a Tammany statute; I would be right enough in that overthrow of Jimmy the Blacksmith, I was bent upon, if only I proved strong enough to bring it about. No, I was not to give word of my campaign to Big Kennedy, it was none of his affair, and he would prefer to be ignorant since he was bound to stand neutral. It is policy thus to let the younger cocks try beak and spur among themselves; it develops leadership, and is the one sure way of safety in picking out your captains.