Page:The American Magazine volume LXIV.djvu/368

352 But his restraint was understood for what it was, moral courage.

All through the Handy episode Heney was carrying on his political war with the gang that ran his party and it was guerrilla warfare. Indeed that was the trouble with Heney's politics. He was constant, but irregular; bold, but personal. He opposed bad men, not the system that produced them, and though he often won these individual fights, his victories did very little good.

He saw the saloon men and gamblers in the county ring, and he understood why they were willing to let Al Bernard be county treasurer: they represented their business. Vice, and so long as they were free to prey upon the men and women of the county, they didn't care who had the public funds' graft. This offended Heney. He didn't notice particularly that in that ring were other, more respectable men who were engaged in other, more respectable businesses. He didn't ask why they were for Bernard. And, naturally, it didn't offend his sense of decency that an ex- Judge, William H. Barnes, the leader of the bar, should also be the political leader of the county. He didn't ask what businesses Boss Barnes represented. And he didn't fight Barnes, at first.

But the evil that he saw Heney fought. He gathered about him his friends, the* gay young Democrats of Tucson and, gay though they were, they opposed the vice ring. And they made their fights in the primaries, and always Heney or some of his crowd were elected delegates.

The young Democrats used to go to conventions with a respectable delegation and some strong alliances with other districts; and they would put up their candidates and pledge majorities for them. But when it came to the vote, some of their delegates would invariably fall down. Not many. "Just enough to beat us," Heney says now, with a laugh. "I believe Barnes let us have enough of his men to make us think we were safe and keep us from getting more. Then he would snap the whip, and they would come back. He had the patronage, the money and, if it came to a pinch, he had not only political but business pressure to bring to bear. Why, when I was licked and so mad that I wanted to bolt, I've had prominent business men come to me advising me to be loyal to the party. I don't know why I didn't tumble to the fact that Barnes had the support of all the interests, political and business, of the whole territory. But I didn't."

Year after year Heney was defeated, and year after year the prestige of the boss was increased by his victories, till at last Barnes went "too far." He made a reach for the courts. This alarmed some of the good men of Tucson. They thought it was time to "check" the boss. They didn't like to come out against him themselves, they looked around for some one to do the job for them, and, like the boys south of Market Street, they whistled for Frank Heney.

He was willing. It was a chance to get "strong backing." He took a day or two to consider how best to go to work, and his plan was the first sign he had given of a democratic political instinct. He had been trying to win with the help of his friends. But you can't play politics with only your friends behind you—not, at least, in a government by the people. And the people in Pima and the other counties round about Tucson belonged to the parties which belonged to the bosses who traded them off between themselves. Heney proposed now to appeal to the people. He challenged Barnes to come to an open meeting at the Opera House on the night of May 6, 1891, and there listen to and—if he could—make answer to certain charges which he, Heney, would bring against him, with the proofs. The good citizens were startled. This was going further than they had expected to go. "Don't, Frank," they pleaded. It was right, they said, to fight Barnes, as Heney had been fighting, quietly, within the party; in convention.

"Where I get licked," said Heney grimly. Ah, but they would back him now; and, besides, they didn't want to beat the boss, only to check him. Why, Barnes was one of Tucson's most prominent citizens, the leader of the bar, etc., and any public exposure of him would hurt the business and the fair fame of the city.

Fortunately Heney's friends appealed to his fears as well as their own, so he paid no