Now Gadsby was vigorously against graft; not only in city affairs but in any kind of transaction; and that stab brought forth such a flow of oratory from him, that as voting for Mayor was soon to occur, it, and a long list of good works, soon had him up for that position. But Gadsby didn't want such a nomination; still, thousands of townsfolks who had known him from childhood, would not hark to anything but his candidacy; and, soon, on window cards, signs, and flags across Broadway, was his photograph and "Gadsby for Mayor;" and a campaign was on which still rings in Branton Hills' history as "hot stuff!" Four aspiring politicians ran in opposition; and, as all had good backing, and Gadsby only his public works to fall back on, things soon got looking gloomy for him. His antagonists, standing upon soap box, auto truck, or hastily built platforms, put forth, with prodigious vim, claims that "our fair city will go back to its original oblivion if I am not its Mayor!" But our Organization now took a hand, most of which, now out of High School, was growing up rapidly; and anybody who knows anything at all about Branton Hills' history, knows that, if this band of bright, loyal pals of Gadsby's was out to attain a goal, it was mighty apt to start things humming. To say that Gadsby's rivals got a bad jolt as it got around town that his "bunch of warriors" was aiding him, would put it but mildly. Two quit instantly, saying that this is a day of Youth and no adult has half a show against it! But two still hung on; clinging to a sort of fond fantasy that Gadsby, not naturally a public sort of man, might voluntarily drop out. But, had Gadsby so much as thought of such an action, his Organization would quickly laugh it to scorn.
"Why, good gracious!" said Frank Morgan, "if anybody should sit in that Mayor's chair in City Hall, it's you! Just look at what you did to boost Branton Hills! Until you got it a-going it had but two thousand inhabitants; now it has sixty thousand! And just ask your rivals to point to any part of it that you didn't build up. Look at our Public Library, municipal band, occupational class rooms; auto and bus trips; and your circus which paid for music for sick folks. With you as Mayor, boy! What an opportunity to boss and swing things your own way! Why, anything you might say is as good as law; and——"
"Now, hold on, boy!" said Gadsby, "a Mayor can't boss things in any such a way as you think. A Mayor has a Council, which has to pass on all bills brought up; and, my boy, upon arriving at manhood, you'll find that a Mayor who can boss a Council around, is a most uncommon bird. And as for a Mayor's word amounting to a law, it's a mighty good thing that it can't! Why, a Mayor can't do much of anything, today, Frank, without a bunch of crazy bat-brains stirring up a rumpus about his acts looking 'suspiciously shady.' Now that is a bad condition in which to find a city, Frank. You boys don't know anything about graft; but as you grow up you will find many flaws in a city's laws; but also many points thoroughly good and fair. Just try to think what a city would amount to if a solitary man could control its law making, as a King or Sultan of old. That was why so many millions of inhabitants would start wars and riots against a tyrant; for many a King was a tyrant, Frank, and had no thought as to how his laws would suit his thousands of rich and poor. A law that might suit a rich man, might work all kinds of havoc with a poor family."
"But," said Frank, "why should a King pass a law that would dissatisfy anybody?"
Gadsby's parry to this rising youthful ambition for light on political affairs was:—
"Why will a duck go into a pond?" and Frank found that though a growing young man might know a thing or two, making laws for a city was a man's job.
So, with a Mayoralty campaign on his hands, plus planning for that big auditorium, Gadsby was as busy as a fly around a syrup jug; for a mass of campaign mail had to go out; topics for orations thought up; and contacts with his now truly important Organization of Youth, took so many hours out of his days that his family hardly saw him, at all. Noon naturally stood out as a good opportunity for oratory, as thousands, out for lunch, would stop, in passing. But, also, many a hall rang with plaudits as an antagonist won a point; but many a throng saw Gadsby's good points, and plainly told him so by turning out voluminously at any point at which his oratory was to flow. It was truly miraculous how this man of shy disposition, found words in putting forth his plans for improving Branton Hills, town of his birth. Many an orator has grown up from an unassuming individual who had things worth saying; and who, through that curious facility which is born of a conviction that his plans had a practical basis, won many a ballot against such prolific flows of high-sounding words as his antagonists had in stock. Many a night Gadsby was "all in," as his worn-out body and an aching throat sought his downy couch. No campaign is a cinch.
With so many minds amongst a city's population, just that many calls for this or that swung back and forth until that most important of all days,—voting day, was at hand. What crowds, mobs and jams did assail all polling booths, casting ballots to land a party-man in City Hall! If a voting booth was in a school building, as is a common custom pupils had that day off; and, as Gadsby was Youth's champion, groups of kids hung around, watching and hoping with that avidity so common with youth, that Gadsby would win by a majority unknown in Branton Hills. And Gadsby did!
As soon as it was shown by official count, Branton Hills was a riot, from City Hall to City limits; throngs tramping around, tossing hats aloft; for a hard-working man had won what many thousands thought was fair and just.