Mr. Boyle's Trouser Legs

Although Democratic Chairman William Boyle Jr. avowed that everything was on the up & up, some inexplicable coincidences, like burrs, were sticking to his well-tailored trouser legs. The St. Louis Post-Dispatch, with its nose close to the ground, spotted them and pointed them out last week.

Almost three years ago, St. Louis' American Lithofold Corp., which specializes in printing forms and depends on government orders for half its work, applied to the Reconstruction Finance Corp. for a loan. Charles Alexander, local RFC manager, rejected the application.

But Lithofold Corp. had some good friends-of-friends. One was ex-RFCer Merl (Mink Coat) Young, who phoned Alexander from Washington that "the Democratic National Committee is interested in this loan." Another was James Finnegan, St. Louis Collector of Internal Revenue and crony of the President. Finnegan added his pleas. Finnegan would generally agree with Alexander that some of Lithofold's business practices were unsound (as Alexander recalled it), "but he would invariably ask, at each meeting, 'How's the loan coming, Charlie?' "

Still Charlie said no, and so did RFC's usually lenient directors in Washington--until 1949. Then RFC suddenly reversed itself and lent Lithofold, all told, more than half a million dollars.

A Man of Power. That was where the coincidences came in. Early in 1949, before he was the $30,000-a-year chairman of the Democratic National Committee but already a man of power in the party,* Boyle's name was added to Lithofold's payroll at $500 a month. Finnegan's name was also added, at $1,000 a month. No one then or since has ever made clear what Boyle's and Finnegan's duties were. But a few weeks later, RFC lent Lithofold its first $80,000.

In April 1949, when Boyle began drawing a salary from the national party, he had his name dropped from the Lithofold payroll. Last week his office said that Boyle got $1,500 out of his brief formal connection with Lithofold. (The Post-Dispatch said it was $8,000.) After Boyle's withdrawal, Max Siskind, his law partner, was put on the Lithofold payroll instead. Siskind has collected $13,000, is still collecting.

In September 1949, RFC raised the Lithofold loan to $465,000, added $100,000 the following November.

Hasty Repayment. All of this might have gone unnoticed if the Internal Revenue Department hadn't got curious about Jim Finnegan. Government agents called at his office to ask a few questions. A few months later, and some two years before the notes were due, Lithofold hastily paid back the RFC loan.

There was a grand jury investigation of Finnegan. He was cleared of any wrongdoing; nevertheless, he resigned as Collector and went back to practicing law. But another grand jury has since turned its eyes on him. This second investigation is still going on. From the U.S. Senate floor, Delaware's John Williams charged that Finnegan, when he was a Government official, had made a practice of collecting attorney's fees from corporations which solicited RFC money.

Bill Boyle continued to assert that everything was on the up & up. Harry Truman promised to look into the whole thing.

* Unlike previous party bosses, who traditionally wind up as postmasters general, Boyle has no Government job.

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