A conference ensued. O'Dwyer shook his head doubtfully when he learned of Burroughs' strong following, but said nothing until the three were in Danvers' room.
"I heard Wild Cat Bill talking to yeh," he acknowledged, "and I think I've got something up my sleeve." But he refused to disclose his plans, only warning Danvers not to be surprised if he was late to the convention, and they separated.
The convention was called to order. Campaign issues did not appear to be of great moment; but when the chairman announced that the candidates for chief justice would now be considered, there suddenly arose so much controversy and ill-feeling that the meeting was adjourned until evening. An active canvass was begun by Danvers for Judge Latimer, and by Moore for his candidate. O'Dwyer of Chouteau County, seemingly not so much interested in the business in hand as in looking up old friends whom he had known at Fort Macleod, circulated joyously among the men. It was not long before he was cheek by jowl at the hotel bar with Wild Cat Bill (Moore never objected to the old nickname), and after sundry refreshments and their accompanying chasers, he proposed that they dine together. Mr. Moore was agreeable, and suggested a private room for the meal, being under the impression that O'Dwyer would look favorably on an effort to turn his allegiance from Latimer's candidacy.
As the dinner progressed he told O'Dwyer that he had in mind a lucrative position which Mr. Burroughs would gladly bestow on an old friend, if the Irishman saw fit to accept. Moore carefully explained, as the glasses were filled and emptied, that he had no ulterior motive. Oh, certainly not! O'Dwyer must not think that Burroughs ever offered a bribe, even in so small a matter as this of defeating Judge Latimer in state convention!
"Of course not!" agreed O'Dwyer, and surreptitiously glanced at his watch. He redoubled his efforts to be the good fellow, and apparently coincided with Moore's views on politics.
The clock in the court house struck half after eight. The convention was called to order, and Mrs. Latimer, thrilling with the sense of unknown possibilities, sat in the crowded gallery, and settled expectantly to the excitement of the balloting. Strong and spicy speeches were anticipated. Silver Bow, notoriously the hotbed of political agitation in the State, possessed in Mr. Moore a star speaker. He always had something to say, and was the chief factor in filling the ladies' gallery. His fiery remarks and impassioned appeals were as exhilarating as cocktails. Full well did Mr. Burroughs know the value of his trusted henchman, both in caucus and on the floor, and he had left his cause against Judge Latimer wholly in Moore's hands, with no understudy. He had made the trip over from Butte the day before, and now expectantly awaited the appearance of the Honorable William.
As the delegates and spectators listened to the blaring band they watched the rapidly filling seats and noted the tall staffs and placards indicating the various counties. Danvers looked in vain for Latimer; Burroughs for Moore.
O'Dwyer had not appeared, and the chairman of the Chouteau County delegation smiled as he thought of the Irishman's devotion to his friends, and the possible discomfiture of their common enemy. But Latimer's absence was disquieting. He had said something about little Arthur's having a cold, but surely that would not keep him from so important an occasion.
Nine o'clock. The chairman declared the convention ready to proceed. Burroughs, hovering near the doors of the auditorium, looked anxious as he saw Danvers rise to make his nomination speech for Judge Latimer. Moore—the invaluable Moore—was not in the hall. The moments were slipping by, and Burroughs hastily dispatched a messenger to his hotel and to the club.