There was nothing from the Ninth Ward yet.

The counting was slow there.
It was eleven o'clock before the vote of any precinct from the Ninth Ward came in.

It stood as follows: Harlson, 71.
Sharkey, 53.
Harlson picked up the filled-out blank, glanced at it, and threw it down again.
"It's some mistake," he said; "that precinct is one of the stiffest the other way.

Wait until we get more of them." We waited, but not for long.

The returns came fluttering in like pigeons now.