Anytime anyone did a favor for the Louisiana Republican — whether they made a call for him, or spoke up on behalf of a bill he favored — they would find themselves on the receiving end of lagniappe (LAN-yap), or a small unexpected gift. Sometimes it was a praline — Scalise has a basket of them sitting, wrapped in plastic, on a coffee table next to the couch in his office in the Rayburn House Office Building. Other times it was a personalized note, T-shirt or flowers. On Wednesday night, the lawmakers who helped put him in a position to become the next House majority whip got an engraved red baseball bat.

Scalise, 48, knew how to build up chits. And over the span of a nine-day leadership election, the five-year congressional veteran cashed them in — in breakneck fashion — lifting him from the rank and file to the House Republican leadership.

( Also on POLITICO: McCarthy, Scalise rise to GOP leadership)

The story of Scalise’s ascent — as detailed by more than a dozen GOP aides and lawmakers involved with the race — is a tale of keen attention to detail, unrelenting drive and intense commitment. He worked over the House Republican Conference until his walk to the Thursday vote, making roughly 100 calls on the final day.

His main rival, Rep. Peter Roskam of Illinois, was slow to organize support, mostly out of deference to his friend, Rep. Eric Cantor of Virginia, whose stunning defeat in a primary set off this leadership shuffle, which also included Rep. Kevin McCarthy’s ascent to majority leader. Once Scalise had an early lead, it proved impossible to break.

Scalise’s hustle in this race is an early hint of how he’ll treat the job of whip. Corralling votes isn’t an easy task, especially in an often divided House Republican Conference. But his ability to clinch a commanding victory in this three-way race shows an operator who is able to move swiftly in various corners of the divided Republican Party.

( Also on POLITICO: McCarthy wins majority leader bid)

And the way he ran his race showed savvy. Scalise respected Cantor but wasn’t waiting for anyone. He began text messaging and calling lawmakers the night the Virginia Republican lost. He built an early lead over Roskam and never relented. Scalise’s campaign was nearly flawless, and Roskam’s never got the momentum it needed.

As Scalise contacted every House Republican, he compiled multiple lists of potential supporters. By Wednesday morning, he had a sheet of lawmakers who were open to supporting his candidacy, yet still had lingering concerns. He assiduously worked to win them over. The Louisianan promised to look out for the interests of individual states, lawmakers and regions when it comes time to divvy up committee assignments. He simply knew what everyone wanted.

The battle between Roskam and Scalise was devoid of most of the bitterness that marked previous leadership races but became personal for some of Scalise’s emissaries. Scalise allies warned Roskam supporters they would remember who supported whom.

Scalise’s intense work to lock up votes shocked even his closest friends. When he landed in Washington on Monday morning after midnight, he had two text messages waiting for him. Scalise responded to them and locked up two more votes.

( Also on POLITICO: Kevin McCarthy changes nothing)

On the Wednesday night before the vote, Scalise wanted to reward the lawmakers who gave up their time to make him the next whip. He took more than 40 of them to Acadiana, a Louisiana-flavored fish restaurant. He sat with his wife around 11:30 p.m., finishing a glass of wine. He was up by 6 a.m. for baseball practice with his congressional colleagues.

In the end, it wasn’t even close. When he walked into the election in the Longworth building Thursday afternoon, Scalise had the support of at least 126 Republicans, far more than both his rivals, Roskam and Rep. Marlin Stutzman (R-Ind.), expected. Scalise had staff lining the hallways outside the room, holding clipboards with lists of lawmakers, making sure they showed up to support his candidacy. Scalise delivered the quick, first-ballot knockout that few foresaw.

After spending a week beating back complaints about their conservative credentials, Scalise and McCarthy emerge in a remarkably strong position in the unpredictable House Republican Conference. For the House GOP, Scalise’s effort is proof that organization matters far more than anger — an important lesson for restive conservatives.

An unexpected contest

Running a leadership race is not easy. It takes a strong organization, a superb network and good friends willing to give up their days and nights to corral support. While Roskam, Scalise, Stutzman and McCarthy had all three, none of them expected to kick into high gear in June. Leadership elections weren’t scheduled until November. This summer was expected to be slow, filled with meaningless messaging bills and lots of fundraising.

No one expected Cantor to lose. In fact, the outgoing majority leader had big plans for Republicans this summer. A spate of fundraisers. A Republican leadership bus tour that would snake through the inner city of Baltimore — a bid to show that his party was beginning to make inroads with new constituencies.

McCarthy was content to continue serving as whip and would wait until Speaker John Boehner (R-Ohio) left Congress to make his next move. Cantor would run for speaker, and the California Republican would launch his bid for majority leader.

And then came June 10.

The night Cantor lost by 11 percentage points to economics professor Dave Brat, the American Council of Young Political leaders was feting McCarthy on Comcast’s roof terrace on New Jersey Avenue, just a few blocks from the Capitol. McCarthy was stunned. His security detail brought him back to the Capitol, and shortly after that, his closest allies began showing up, wondering what was next.

There was Rep. Patrick McHenry, the shrewd North Carolina Republican. Roskam, who was elected with McCarthy in the Democrat-heavy year of 2006, was there, too. Rep. Richard Hudson (R-N.C.) — a rising star in the Capitol — showed up with his wife, Renee, a GOP fundraising consultant. Rep. Lynn Westmoreland, a slow-talking Georgian who always has McCarthy’s back, came as well. Days later, these men would find themselves on opposite sides of the competitive whip race.

Almost immediately, McCarthy began fielding calls. He was planning on getting into the race for majority leader, and with the hefty operation he had assembled as whip, McCarthy’s team was sure he would win. On the day of the vote, McCarthy didn’t have to gather last-minute support. Instead, he went to Chipotle with his wife and kids.

But McCarthy wasn’t the only one thinking about his next steps in the wake of Cantor’s loss.

That same evening, Rep. Pete Sessions, a Texas Republican who never saw eye to eye with the Californian, sent a mass text message to House Republicans, requesting a chat about the majority leader race. Many of the recipients didn’t have Sessions’ cell-phone number and had no idea who the message was from, according to multiple sources who received the message. Sessions and Rep. Raúl Labrador, an Idaho Republican who later launched a quixotic campaign to challenge McCarthy, were never serious threats to derail him.

A crowded, and competitive, race

Unlike the majority leader race, where McCarthy drew only a symbolic challenge, the whip race got crowded fast.

Westmoreland considered a run, as did Sessions. Stutzman was a little sheepish about getting in the race. The Indiana Republican was elected in 2010, and he liked Roskam and Scalise, but he knew a lot of his colleagues didn’t want to back either man. Stutzman decided to jump in — surprising some of his staff.

Stutzman didn’t have a complex operation, but Scalise and Roskam did. Both men — veterans of their state legislatures — had built intricate political networks to support a competitive leadership battle. Scalise has been eying leadership for years — his ambitions were an open secret in the Capitol, even if he publicly denied them. Roskam has been meeting with rank-and-file Republicans for months, telling them that he wanted their support when the whip spot opened up.

But when the time came, they handled the sudden leadership vacuum very differently.

Scalise immediately worked the phones, telling people he was running for whip, and asking them for their support. He locked up savvy operators — McHenry, Steve Stivers of Ohio, Aaron Schock of Illinois and Ann Wagner of Missouri — to canvass the House Republican Conference on his behalf. He also enlisted experienced outside help: Mildred Webber, a veteran of many Republican leadership races, ran Scalise’s campaign. Susan Hirschmann, a high-powered GOP lobbyist, helped bring Republicans into the fold. He pleaded the case for a red-state Southerner at the leadership table.

Scalise left nothing to chance. Former Rep. Jeff Landry, a Louisiana Republican who got crosswise with Boehner, offered to do anything to help. Scalise accepted, and he asked him to make phone calls to conservatives. Landry flew to D.C. on Wednesday to assist his old friend.

“I went to work visiting with friends, listening to them, talking and relaying back to Steve,” Landry said in an interview.

By late Wednesday afternoon, Scalise was growing more confident that he could win the race on the first ballot. He went through a long session with his whip team, building separate lists: one of members “with concerns” and another with undecided Republicans. Lawmakers who hadn’t committed numbered in the low teens, Scalise’s team said.

Scalise focused heavily on the members “with concerns,” walking them through any issues, patiently answering their questions. “He got a lot of those guys that way,” a member of his team said.

As late as 1:25 p.m. Thursday, as he was walking out the door for the leadership election, Scalise was still calling colleagues, shoring up his support.

Meanwhile, Roskam didn’t kick into high gear until late last week. He tried to catch up. On Father’s Day, he walked in circles in his backyard in Illinois, calling his colleagues, seeking support. He told one lawmaker that he was going to work him over so hard that he would “make you feel bad if you vote against me,” according to multiple sources familiar with the call. Scalise spent Father’s Day swimming with his kids. Roskam’s main pitch was that he had the experience to count votes — and could communicate conservative policy.

To many onlookers, Roskam’s lagging performance was a shock. He was the chief deputy whip, a position that afforded him a leadership staff, Capitol office and constant contact with Republicans. But it was all for naught. He was‘t even able to lock up the Illinois delegation, many of whom saw Roskam as disconnected from their concerns.

The best example of Roskam’s inability to connect came Tuesday, during a meeting with his whip team. Someone asked Roskam how they should handle an undecided member, and he launched into a long diatribe about the Cuban missile crisis, Nikita Kruschev and John F. Kennedy. Roskam wanted his whips to ignore negative responses and focus just on positive ones — like Kennedy did with Khruschev. The room went silent, according to a source present.

Hudson, a top member of Roskam’s whip team, said Scalise’s quick start made the difference.

“Speed kills in leadership races,” Hudson said. “I think he got to 100 very quickly, and then I think it was a matter of picking up a few votes every day.”

But Roskam is still ambitious. He will not disappear.

“I think we haven’t seen the last of Pete Roskam,” Hudson said.