SCRAMBLE FOR NO.2

For all the scorn heaped on the second office in the republic, the modern-day fact is that vice-presidential virus is only slightly less contagious than presidential fever. One reason is that four of our last eight Vice Presidents have become President. Nelson Rockefeller used to be openly contemptuous of the post, noting that he did not consider himself to be stand-by equipment; when the job was offered he quickly accepted it. Robert Kennedy in 1964 convinced his friends how really awful he thought it would be to serve as Lyndon Johnson's running mate. Not long afterward he tried, and failed, to muscle his way onto the ticket.

Henry Jackson, at 64 one of the most powerful members of the Senate, startled his closest advisers last week when he told them privately he wanted to be Jimmy Carter's running mate, but he does not think the Georgian will pick him. For his own part. Carter has a comfortable period of several weeks to consider Jackson and the growing list of names, many of which Carter knows far too little about--and, in some cases, too much. He is sure to keep the guessing game alive as a way to hold the spotlight until the convention. The Republicans know no such comfort: Gerald Ford and Ronald Reagan are headed for a delegate battle that makes it difficult for either one to consider picking a running mate without the approval of the other.

There is a new and deep concern this year about the historically haphazard way in which the vice-presidential nominees are chosen--after George McGovern's 1972 fiasco with Senator Tom Eagleton, after the resignation of Spiro Agnew, after the ascension of unelected Gerald Ford. A study on the subject, released this week by Harvard's Kennedy Institute, maintained that "the present selection practices contain an inherent and unacceptable degree of risk." The odds are now 1 to 2, the study judges, that the Vice President will one day become President.

Although the prestige of the office seems to be returning to the level that its founders saw in it, choosing the man has remained chaotic, and as the report puts it, too often left to the "personal judgment of the nominee, a judgment often exercised rapidly and in confusion in the small hours of the morning." The report urges that the process be more public and that there be sufficient time for background checks on the candidates.

Carter has the time for all of that. He has stated he wants the man most qualified to take over the office. He also is searching for someone who can fill gaps in his own experience and run strong in areas of the country where Carter has not--for example, the Far West and Northeast. The two candidates who best fit that strategy, in the minds of professional politicians, are both Senators: Minnesota's Walter Mondale, 48, and Idaho's Frank Church, 51. Mondale, a cool, skillful legislator and campaigner, would provide Carter wide bridges to labor and liberals, where the Georgian is still uneasily feeling his way. Mondale is also strong with Jewish leaders.

The usually studious Church surprised many with his affable, winning campaign style that defeated Carter handily in the West. He is a longtime member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, and his knowledge of world affairs meets a large Carter need. The only visible deficit that accompanies Mondale and Church: they do not bring Carter the possible reward of big-state electoral votes.

Two Senators who do are Ohio's John Glenn and Adlai Stevenson of Illinois. Hero Glenn, who radiates waves of integrity, has large voter appeal but only two years of Senate experience. Stevenson offers more intellectual resources. Like Glenn, he would help deliver his home state, although Stevenson is considered a dreary campaigner.

Other possibilities: Indiana Senator Birch Bayh, who is a liberal-labor favorite, but showed himself a shallow, inept candidate in the primaries; Jackson, who would draw Jewish support but was even more deadly on the stump than Bayh; and Maine's Senator Ed Muskie, who is a tested leader, but is seen as a failed candidate since his 1972 flop. Two men unlikely to be considered are Congressman Mo Udall, who pointedly pricked the usually controlled Carter temper the last couple of months, and California Governor Jerry Brown, who Carter staffers say has been flatly ruled out on the basis of too little experience and too much eccentricity. Carter's advisers say both blacks and women are being considered: Detroit Mayor Coleman Young and Texas Congresswoman Barbara Jordan are two of the names being floated. The most prominent Democrat on the anticipated Carter list, Senator

Edward Kennedy, probably will not be approached, although Carter will court him heavily in hopes of having him campaign actively for the ticket.

The Republicans are lurching toward not only a presidential showdown, but a real dilemma about the second slot. With 1,000 or more Reagan delegates on the floor, the convention is sure to have a conservative set of mind. The President cannot afford to antagonize Reagan, and yet Ford's advisers say he does not want the Californian on the ticket. He considers Reagan too far to the right to provide the proper ideological balance. But if Ford is nominated by only a skimpy margin, he faces two unappealing options: he can buck the Reagan delegates and dare to pick his own man, or he can throw open the second spot to the convention floor, which will surely regard Reagan favorably.

Ford, if nominated, has another predicament: Democratic Front-Runner Carter has turned the usual G.O.P. universe topsy-turvy. Carter runs strongest in the favorite Republican areas of the South and border states. Ford must decide whether to challenge Carter there by picking a running mate like Howard Baker or William Brock, the two attractive Tennessee Senators, or perhaps the glamorous John Connally. The Texan dwarfs the two Senators as a campaigner, but he burdens Ford with his wheeler-dealer reputation. As a convert from the Democrats, he is now seen as a political turncoat.

Should Ford instead pursue a Northern strategy? In that case he would consider the sturdy but uncolorful Elliot Richardson, Secretary of Commerce, or Maryland Senator Mac Mathias, or Ed Brooke, black Senator from Massachusetts, or even the tireless warrior, Nelson Rockefeller, now 67.

If Reagan is the nominee, the vice-presidential problems, at least, seem less wrenching. Reagan has stated that his running mate must share his own philosophy. He might reach out himself for the flamboyant Connally with whom he has maintained useful lines of communication. But since Reagan runs best in the South and Southwest, this suggests someone instead from the Midwest as a partner. Moderate Senator Charles Percy of Illinois presumably would be eliminated on the basis of incompatibility. Ohio's Bob Taft throws off too few sparks, but Senator Robert Dole of Kansas, a spirited speaker, would be a possibility, as would Iowa Governor Robert Ray. Some Reagan delegates, intoxicated by a convention victory, might even set their sights on another top candidate from the Midwest, a likable man with solid experience: Gerald Ford.

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