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Updated: June 20, 2025
Obsessed with immediate advantages and disadvantages, the Joyner-Graves faction wanted to secure the re-election of Grant Hamilton, and the way things had been going in the past two months, only Chester Pelton's death could accomplish that.
By noon, this would be all over Penn-Jersey-York; coming on top of Slade Gardner's accusations He ran up the spiral escalator, stumbling and regaining his footing as he left it. Bayne and his striking Literates were all gone; he saw a sergeant of Pelton's store police and went toward him, taking his spare identity-badge from his pocket. "Here," he said, handing it to the sergeant.
Just got a call from Pelton's store place infiltrated by goons, estimated strength two hundred, presumed Independent-Conservatives. Serious rioting already going on; I'm taking my reserve company there. And if you haven't found out, yet, where China is, it's on the third floor, next to Glassware."
Too many men between twenty and thirty, all dressed alike, looking alike, talking and acting alike. It looked like a goon-gang infiltration, and he was beginning to see why Harvey Graves had wanted the Literates pulled out, and why Joyner, bound by ethics to do nothing against the commercial interests of Pelton's, had known nothing about it.
All this they glimpsed momentarily before the press closed in on the tragic scene and cut off their view. While Harley had been in no way responsible for Pelton's murderous attack upon Yesler, public opinion held him to account. The Pinkertons who had, up till this time, been employed at the mines, were now moved to the hotel to be ready for an emergency.
Between the two groups were four city policemen, looking acutely unhappy. The group in the Lone Ranger uniforms, he saw, were standing in front of a huge tri-dimensional animated portrait of Chester Pelton. As he watched, the pictured candidate raised a clenched fist, and Pelton's recorded and amplified voice thundered: "Put the Literates in their place! Our servants, not our masters!"
On the screen, the Chinaware Department on the third floor came to life in full sound and color. The pickup must have been across an aisle from the box from whence the alarm had come; they could see one of Pelton's Illiterate clerks lying unconscious under it, and the handphone dangling at the end of its cord.
D, Captain Percy Rice; Co. E, Captain F. W. Pelton. The three city companies drilled at what is now the Varieties, on Frankfort street, Captain Pelton's company at Brooklyn, and Captain Kenny's at Geneva. In the Winter of 1860, the regiment tendered their services to the State authorities in case of difficulty, as the rebels in West Virginia were assuming a threatening attitude.
The double combination was neatly stenciled on the door, the numbers spelled out as words and the letters spelled in phonetic equivalents. All three of them himself, Claire, and Russell Latterman could read them. None of them dared admit it. Latterman was fairly licking his chops in anticipation. If Cardon opened the safe, Pelton's campaign manager stood convicted as a Literate.
"I thought I was Literate enough to spot Literacy in anybody else," she said. "No, I never even suspected " Somebody rapped on the door. "Miss Pelton," the sergeant's voice called. "Visiphone call from Literates' Hall." Prestonby smiled. "I'll take it, if you don't mind," he said. "I'm acting-chief-Literate here, now, I suppose." She followed him as he went out into Pelton's office.
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