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Updated: June 20, 2025
They were not, could not have been taken after the independent convention that nominated me. If the photographs were true I would be a fine traitor. But I haven't even seen McLoughlin or Brown since last spring. The whole thing is a " "Lie from start to finish," put in Bennett emphatically. "Yes, Travis, we all know that. I'd quit right now if I didn't believe in you. But let us face the facts.
He had uncovered another picture carefully. We could not see it, but as he looked at it McLoughlin fairly staggered. "Wh where did you get that?" he gasped. "I got it where I got it, and it is no fake," replied Kennedy enigmatically. Then he appeared to think better of it. "This," he explained, "is what is known as a pinhole photograph.
McLoughlin," began Kennedy quietly, when we were seated alone with Hanford in the little sanctum of the Boss, "you will pardon me if I seem a little slow in coming to the business that has brought me here to-night.
"You don't think people are going to swallow all that stuff, do you?" asked Hanford coolly, in spite of the exposures. Kennedy paid no attention. He was looking at McLoughlin. The Boss was regarding him surlily. "Well," he said at length, "what of all this? I had nothing to do with it. Why do you come to me? Take it to the proper parties." "Shall I?" asked Kennedy quietly.
As Hanford described it, I am standing between McLoughlin and J. Cadwalader Brown, the trust promoter who is backing McLoughlin to save his investments. Brown's hand is on my shoulder and we are talking familiarly. Another is a picture of Brown, McLoughlin, and myself riding in Brown's car, and in it Brown and I are evidently on the best of terms.
On May 20 von Hindenburg established his headquarters at Forest Hills, where, less than a year before, his gallant countryman, the great Fraitzheim, had made an unsuccessful effort to wrest the Davis cup from the American champion and ex-champion, Murray and McLoughlin. But that was a year ago!
"I have no right to say no," she answered tremulously, but with a look of happiness that I had not seen since our first introduction. Kennedy laid down a print on a table. It was the pinhole photograph, a little blurry, but quite convincing. On a desk in the picture was a pile of bills. McLoughlin was shoving them away from him toward Bennett.
I advised him to read his Revised Statutes again about money in elections, and I ended up with the threat, 'There will be no dough day, McLoughlin, or this will be prosecuted to the limit. There was no dough day. You see the effect in the returns." "But how did you do it?" I asked, not comprehending. "The faked photographs did not move him, that I could see."
The face of the individual by the table turned white and his fingers fell from the regulating screw, as though the latter were red hot. The Captain recognized the men; they were day operators whom he had met in the village many times. Incidentally, they were avowed friends of the former electrician, Parker. The name of the taller one was McLoughlin. No one spoke.
In his sermon he referred to a meeting of the political party favoured by the Church, and said that every man, woman, and child must be present. All must assemble at the chapel, and all must be in time to walk in procession to the place of meeting. He would be there with Father McLoughlin, and the pair would go round to see who was absent.
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