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Other notable examples of Irish redemptioners who attained eminence in America were George Taylor, a native of Dublin, one of Pennsylvania's signers of the Declaration of Independence; Charles Thompson, a native of county Tyrone, "the perennial Secretary of the Continental Congress", and William Killen, who became chief justice and chancellor of Delaware.
That what you mean?" "You surely must recognize our right to an explanation, Killen," Jeff said gently. "No, sir, I don't," flushed the little man with sullen bravado. "I ain't got a thing against you, but Rawson goes too far." "I think he does," Jeff agreed. "Killen is all right. Gentlemen, suppose you let him and me talk it over alone. We can reach an agreement that is satisfactory."
It will be all right." The legislator shook hands again. "I ain't going to forget what you're doing for me. No, sir!" Jeff laughed his thanks easily. "That's all right. I reckon you would have done as much for me. Sam Killen isn't the man to throw his friends down." "That's right," returned the other with a sudden valiant infusion of courage. "I stand pat.
"I'm not so much struck on Hardy myself," grumbled the legislator. "He's a rich man, just as Frome is. Six of one and half a dozen of the other, looks like to me." "No, Killen. Frome represents the Transcontinental and the utility corporations. Hardy stands for the people. And you're pledged to support Hardy. You mustn't forget that."
See you to-morrow, Sam." Big Tim sat down heavily in a chair and pulled from his vest pocket a fat black cigar. "Smoke, Killen?" "No, thanks." The legislator spoke with stiff dignity. Big Tim looked at the other man and his paunch shook with the merriment that appeared to convulse him. "What's the matter?" snapped the mill man. "I'm laughin' at the things I see, Killen.
"Wasn't that call a little injudicious under the circumstances, James?" contributed Jeff with his whimsical smile. "I suppose I may call wherever I please." "It was a piece of dashed foolishness, that's what it was. You say Killen saw you. The thing will fly like dust in the wind.
"No sinking ship for mine. I guess I wouldn't ratify yet a while if I were youse, Farnum." He stood aside to let the editor of the World pass. Jeff laughed. "Go to it, Tim." "I haven't got anything to say to you, Mr. O'Brien," the mill man announced with heightened color. "Maybe I've got something to say to youse, Mr. Killen." Jeff passed out smiling. "Well, I'll not interrupt you.
He was small and insignificant, with weak blinking eyes. Standing with his back to the wall, he moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. "Who says it?" he whined shrilly. "Who says I sold out?" An apoplectic, bull-necked ruffian stood directly in front of him and sawed the air violently with a fat forefinger. "I ain't sayin' it, Killen I'm askin' if you have.
"And I'm going to have the pleasure of telling that damned little Killen what I think of him," the politician added with savage satisfaction. "Don't blame him. He's only a victim. What we must do is to change the system that makes it possible to defeat the will of the people through money," Jeff said. "How are you going about it?" Rawson demanded incredulously.
Before Tim was out of the building Killen was gumshoeing after him. He meant to find out whether O'Brien had been lying when he said he was going to call on one of his friends. Fifty yards behind him Killen followed, along Powers Avenue, down Pacific Street, to the Equitable Building.
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