A curious company of men shuffled and smartcracked their way in to a dinner one evening last week at the Astor Hotel, Manhattan. There were enough of them to have raised the census at least a decimal point, and their aggregate income would have given Secretary of the Treasury Mellon considerable satisfaction. Yet loitering lobbyites who glanced up at them as they entered the hotel, and the nimble-witted telephone girl who placed their after-dinner calls, recognized scarcely a face. James J. Walker, the mayor, they recognized. But he was only a guest....
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