correspondents at the Capital, informed of the votes on the various
measures, and other items of importance or interest. Somebody early in
the session called the bureau a "lobby," and somebody else improved the
title by calling it "People's Lobby."

And then certain Senators and Assemblymen awoke to the startling
discovery that in the Legislative Bureau, presided over by Anderson, was
the People's Lobby that was to employ Pinkerton's or Burns' men to watch
the Legislature. Anderson was a marked man from that moment.

Curiously enough this theory of Anderson's purpose didn't anger a single
member of Senate or Assembly who, during the nearly three months that
followed, voted against machine-advocated measures, and for measures
which the machine opposed. Assemblymen of the type of Bohnett, Hinkle,
Cattell, Callan and Drew, Senators like Bell, Black, Campbell and
Holohan either treated the Pinkerton story as a joke or thought that a
little Pinkerton watchfulness might be a pretty good proposition, all
things considered.

On the other hand, many of the Senators and Assemblymen who were in
constant opposition to reform policies, were very much exercised that
anybody should have the audacity to have a watch kept upon the
Legislature. This intense feeling found perhaps its best expression in
Assemblyman McManus' denunciation of Anderson, when the question of
having Anderson "investigated" was before the Assembly.

"It is a sad state of affairs," said McManus, "if a band of Pinkertons
are here to follow the members up. We aren't everyday street-car
conductors. We don't have to have spotters to watch us."