Adlai Stevenson's fund was revealed as a direct result of Democratic excitement over the Nixon fund. Stevenson confirmed that the fund existed, then lapsed into silence. After two aloof days, he rose before a campaign workers' breakfast in Baltimore and coolly indicated that he would not be pushed into giving details. He had used leftover campaign contributions to supplement the salaries of some state officials, he said, and no improper influence was involved. There he intended to let the matter rest. He would not list the names of givers or receivers; "to do so would subject them to publicity which they do not deserve . . ."
Forces at Work. But the newspapers were clamoring for facts. Dick Nixon had made a full report; why shouldn't Stevenson? Jubilant Republicans joined in, asked what Stevenson was trying to cover up. Correspondents on the campaign train submitted a petition asking the nominee for a press conference. Stevenson's answer: No.
In Illinois, newsmen interviewed all 13 state department heads. These officials said that they had never heard of the fund which Governor Stevenson said was no secret. Snorted State Insurance Director J. Edward Day (whose state salary is $10,000 a year): "There isn't any 'Dime for Day' fund, and I don't get anything extra from anybody."
Then some Illinois officials and ex-officials began to recall something about gifts and funds. State Supreme Court Justice Walter V. Schaefer remembered that Stevenson had given him a $500 check for Christmas in 1950 (before he was appointed to the bench), while he was serving as the nonsalaried chairman of a state committee on government reorgan ization. He thought it was a personal gift from Stevenson. This refreshed the memory of Insurance Director Day. He had received something extra after all, in the form of presents from Adlai. So had State Welfare Director Fred Hoehler and former Finance Director George Mitchell, who at first said they didn't remember getting anything.
Two former purchasing agents, William J. McKinney and David H. Cummings, recalled something, too: Stevenson had arranged for a special political fund after he was elected. They thought it was used to support Stevenson's candidates for the legislature and to pay some of his own political expenses. The man in charge of this fund, said McKinney, was the late James Mulroy, former managing editor of the Chicago Sun, who was Stevenson's executive secretary.* Each month Mulroy got a list of firms doing business with the state. Said McKinney: "Mulroy was under orders not to pressure these people. But I think it was his idea to call on them and ask if they cared to contribute."
3 a.m. Call. As the headlines continued to shout about the Illinois funds, signs of nervousness began to appear in the Stevenson camp. Some of the candidate's aides were not so sure that Democratic National Chairman Steve Mitchell should have boldly demanded that Dick Nixon get off the Republican ticket. Finally, Campaign Manager Wilson Wyatt announced that Adlai Stevenson had changed his mind. There would be a "further statement."