The Last Rounds

Tom Dewey, dressed in sweater and grey flannels, played golf last week/- to relax from the first round of his campaign, and studied ring technique to prepare for his next. The question he faced: should he try to outbox Franklin Roosevelt, or to out-slug him?

On his 8,545-mile cross-country trip, he had been content to jab steadily, pushing the champ off balance, until Franklin Roosevelt came out with his old haymaking right hook. (TIME, Oct. 2). Even then, Tom Dewey labeled his own slugging back at Oklahoma City a "digression." But that toe-to-toe digression had brought Republican cheers. Republican ringsiders, who had sat on their hands while Tom Dewey endorsed New Deal measures, clapped, shouted and sent telegrams, demanding more of the same. Next night, on his homeward journey to Albany, Dewey abandoned his previous objections to barnstorming, was still happily "digressing," making back-platform speeches, even at midnight, in Springfield, Mo. (At Springfield, a small boy threw the first rotten apple of the campaign,, missing Dewey by ten feet, but conking a photographer.) At each stop Dewey continued in his Oklahoma City style, swinging freely--at bureaucracy, at the "Roosevelt" depression, at Hillman, Madam Perkins and Earl Browder.

Ahead of him now lay the last month's crucial rounds, with speeches in Charleston, W.Va. (48 hours after Franklin Roosevelt), New York, Boston, Chicago, Minneapolis, and perhaps St. Louis.

He well knew, from their cheers, that more slugging would please his old Republican fans--but he had their votes already. And although the odds were still on the champ, good news, with few exceptions, poured in so steadily to the Dewey headquarters that one problem was to avoid overoptimism.

* His score for 18 holes: 101. Usual average: in the 90s. He was unruffled, as always, and lost no golf balls.

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