“He has ketched on,” mournfully stated an old-timer from the third district. “I’m allers mistrustful of these young critters. They are sure to balk on the home stretch.”
“Well, one good thing,” grinned a city member, “it breaks their record, and they don’t get another entry.”
David had made a few short speeches on some of the bills, and those who had read in the 176 papers of the wonderful powers of oratory of the young member from the eleventh flocked to hear him. They were disappointed. His speeches were brief, forceful, and logical, but entirely barren of rhetorical effect. The promoters of the Griggs Bill began to wonder, but concluded he was saving all his figures of speech to sugarcoat their obnoxious measure. It occurred to them, too, that if by chance he should oppose them his bare-handed way of dealing with subterfuges and his clear presentation of facts would work harm. They counted, however, on being able to convince him that his future status in the life political depended upon his coöperation with them in pushing this bill through.
Finally he was approached, and then the bomb was thrown. He quietly and emphatically told them he should fight the bill, single handed if necessary. Recriminations, arguments, threats, and inducements––all were of no avail.
“Let him hang himself if he wants to,” growled one of the committee. “He hasn’t 177 influence enough to knock us out. We’ve got the majority.”
The measure was one that would radically affect the future interests of the state, and was being watched and studied by the people, who had not, as yet, however, realized its significance or its far-reaching power. The intent of the promoters of the Griggs Bill was to leave the people unenlightened until it should have become a law.
“Dunne won’t do us any harm,” argued the father of the bill on the eventful day. “He’s been saving all his skyrockets for this celebration. He’ll get lots of applause from the women folks,” looking up at the solidly packed gallery, “and his speech will be copied in all the papers, and that’ll be the reward he’s looking for.”
When David arose to speak against the Griggs Bill he didn’t look the youngster he had been pictured. His tall, lithe, compelling figure was drawn to its full height. His eyes darkened to intensity with the gravity of the task before him; the stern lines of his mouth 178 bespoke a master of the situation and compelled confidence in his knowledge and ability.
The speech delivered in his masterful voice was not so much in opposition to the bill as it was an exposure of it. He bared it ruthlessly and thoroughly, but he didn’t use his youthful hypnotic periods of persuasive eloquence that had been wont to sway juries and to creep into campaign speeches. His wits had been sharpened in the last few months, and his keen-edged thrusts, hurled rapier-like, brought a wince to even the most hardened of veteran members. It was a complete enlightenment in plain words to a plain people––a concise and convincing protest.
When he finished there was a tempest of arguments from the other side, but there was not a point he had not foreseen, and as attack only brought out the iniquities of the measure, they let the bill come to ballot. The measure was defeated, and for days the papers were headlined with David Dunne’s name, and accounts of how the veterans had been routed by the “tenderfoot from the eleventh.” 179