As in every contest of its kind, the full vote for Burroughs was not cast at any joint assembly until Moore knew he had the number required to elect. In this way no legislator was sure from day to day of the man sitting beside him; some one known to be pledged to another candidate, or professing himself under no obligations to any man, would swaggeringly or shamefacedly, as the case might be, announce as his name was called from the alphabetical list by the brazen-voiced reader in front of the speaker's desk that his choice for a United States senator was Robert Burroughs.
Days went by, with no decisive vote; there was less good-fellowship, more caution; less talking, more secrecy; each member looking askance at his neighbor, wondering if he was or would be bought. Lobbies and halls of capitol, hotels, saloons and offices swarmed with men talking of Burroughs.
O'Dwyer, member from Chouteau County, took to walking in the middle of the streets to ward off Burroughs' emissaries—greatly to the amusement of his friends, in days when amusement was seldom indulged in by the small band of honest men in the Legislature. State Senator Danvers grew more grave as time went on. The onus of his party's opposition had fallen on him, for he was working for the governor's election as United States senator as against Burroughs, also a Republican. He felt more alone than at any time since he had lived in the Northwest, for the doctor was back at Fort Benton, and Judge Latimer away on professional matters.
Hall grew unctuous, and had many a sly wink with Chaplain McDevitt. Senator Blair was moody, restless and irritable, except in the hours which he spent with Mrs. Latimer. Winifred, in her anxiety, became a stranger to sleep, but she made no complaint of her haunting fear. A reserve, unnatural to her, became apparent.
With Eva Latimer it was different. She was intoxicated with the excitement, and missed no noon hour when the senate marched in, two by two, to the representatives' chamber for the daily balloting. With a list of the members of both houses in hand, she sat watching the proceedings and checking off each name on the roll-call. Her absorption in the varying sum totals for Burroughs made her unconscious of the glances in her direction; and Moore, secluded in his retreat, knew nothing of her open interest in the capitol. Often Senator Blair was at her side at the convening of the Legislature, or provided her a seat near his own, and in the intervals of routine work they would chat in low tones. She often cast furtive eyes at Danvers, eyes that revealed so much that those who watched her smiled meaningly. But Danvers, absorbed in his arduous duties, saw nothing personal in her self-revealing glance; he resented only her carelessness in protecting her absent husband's interests.
The contest was not without its amusing features. A nervous representative shied violently at a piece of writing paper one night which had been left on his floor by a careless chambermaid; for the member rooming next him had the night before opened his innocent eyes on a thousand-dollar bill miraculously floating through the transom. If bills of such denomination materialized as cleverly as roses at a medium's seance, what might not develop at any moment? It was disquieting! Beds were feverishly ripped open instead of being slept in; mattresses were overhauled and pillows uncased; chiffoniers were turned upside down in hope that bills were tacked on the bottom; envelopes in unfamiliar handwriting were opened cautiously, with no witnesses; papers were signed making one legislator an Indian agent, another a doctor in a coal camp, another a lawyer in a large corporation—all positions contingent on Burroughs' election. The list of pledged men grew, yet still Moore's outlay did not buy the United States senatorship for Robert Burroughs.
"Yes, the whole number of ninety-four," confided Moore, patiently, as Burroughs asked for the hundredth time how many members were in the Assembly. They were sitting before a large desk in the inner room of Burroughs' suite, and the Assembly had been in session nearly six weeks.
"I surely have forty-five of 'em now?" anxiously.
"That's the way I've got it figured," soothingly.
"Good men? Men who would vote for me anyway?" Burroughs had lately developed an exasperating desire to believe that some man was his friend with no thought of reward. Mr. Moore, knowing the aspirant's record and reputation, thought that this portended senility.