HADLEY'S VICTORY
IS CELEBRATED.
SUPPORTERS MARCH STREETS IN
CHEERING THRONGS.
COULD HARDLY
BELIEVE NEWS.
COMING ON HEELS OF WHAT
LOOKED LIKE DEFEAT.
Men Shouted the Winner's Name as
They Crowded the Streets.
HERBERT SPENCER HADLEY.
Republicans in Kansas City and Jackson county awakened yesterday morning to learn that their hope of seeing a Republican elected governor in the present generation had been fulfilled, and that for the next four years the commonwealth will be ruled from the governor's mansion at Jefferson City by Herbert S. Hadley. At first the news was too good to be believed, and there were many doubting Thomases, especially in view of the fact that when tired, exhausted humanity sought rest a few hours before from the fatigue of watching the returns, advices at hand indicated the success of W. S. Cowherd, the nominee of the Democrats.
True, from the standpoint of Republican estimates the night before the meager returns then at hand pointed towards Hadley's election, but they were so indefinite that not even the most sanguine partisan could make himself believe that the complete returns would show anything but the often repeated story of Democratic success.
Like the wind, the cheerful news that Hadley was gaining as each report came in from belated voting places, and that his majority in St. Louis was something unheard of, swept over the city. Enthusiasts shouted the glad tidings until they were hoarse, and by noon newspaper office bulletins gave out the information that Hadley had been elected without a doubt.
SHOUTED IN THE STREETS.
Above the din and racket of commerce shouts and cheers for Hadley rent the air along the crowded downtown streets, and as by magic an impromptu parade was formed. Headed by a band of music, hundreds of shouting, enthusiastic Republicans fell in behind the musicians and marched through the streets. An immense framed portrait of Hadley was borne at the head of the procession, and a large American flag that, when unfolded, almost spread its patriotic colors the width of the street, was grasped by willing and enthusiastic men and carried far above their heads.
The crowd took the building of The Journal by storm. They marched into the building hundreds strong, the band playing patriotic airs. The marchers, cheering and their spirits at high tide, made a circle of the business office corridor, and marched up the stairs to the rooms of the editorial and local departments.. It was an unusual and unique demonstration, the like of which had never before been undertaken in a political campaign.
COWHERD'S BATH OF GLOOM.
While the Republicans were rejoicing, W. S. Cowherd, the Democratic nominee for governor, was in his law offices in the American Bank building greatly depressed over the outlook. He was surrounded by friends and supporters, and they were undertaking to figure out a bare possible majority for their defeated idol. The best they could do was to make the majority possibly 2,000, a most discouraging concession in view of Missouri's normal majority in the past of from 35,000 to 40,000.
"Pretty slim drawing of figures, boys," painfully conceded Mr. Cowherd. At 2 o'clock he complained of weariness after his trying campaign, and he went to his apartments in the Roosevelt. He said he was going to try and forget it in the sweet dreams and left orders not to be disturbed.
"I'm not making any claims. It may take the official count to determine the result," is all Mr. Cowherd would say when questioned.
DEFEAT IS ADMITTED.
Two hours later R. J. Ingraham, his law partner, had a conference with former Governor A. M. Dockery, Bernard Corrigan, James A. Reed and other Democratic leaders, and the defeat of Mr. Cowherd was practically admitted. It was conceded that it would be impossible to overcome Hadley's strong lead in St. Louis and the complexion of the returns that were coming in from Southeast Missouri. They signed and sealed their verdict complacently, but with expressions of deep regret.
Mr. Dockery said he had ideas as to what had contributed to the defeat of Cowherd and added that it would do the party no good to make them public. Others in the conference also decided that they did not want to see in the newspapers what they thought of a lot of men whom they freely blamed for the result.
