“Then promise ’em something more. Don’t be stingy. If that don’t satisfy ’em, give me the tip, and I’ll have a ten per cent. drop ordered on the foreign section gangs’ pay, and make Chief Geoghegan pass the word to his cops to make things bad for the pushcart men and organ grinders, and close up the dago saloons an hour early. That’ll bring ’em in a-running. How ’bout litterchoor, Abbott?” “I’ll start the staff to work on songs to-night,” said a long-haired little man, “and get out a bunch of ‘Friend of the Plain People’ tracts and——” “Won’t do! ‘Man-of-Experience-and-Benefactor-of-the-State or Ignorant-Meddling-Boy-Reformer. Which-Will-You-Vote-For?’ That’s the racket this time. Guy the whole League crowd. ‘Silk Stockings _vs._ Laboring Man.’ That’s the idea. Get the cartoonists at work on pictures like Standish making the police sprinkle the streets with Florida water while thugs break into houses, and that sort of thing. ‘What-We-May-Expect-from-Civic-League-Rule.’ Understand? Say, Caine, detail one or two of your men, of course, to look up Standish’s past performances in private life, too. Anything about booze or the cards or any sort of scrape will work up fine just now. The gag’s old, but about a reformer it always makes a hit. Even a bit of a stretch goes. I’ll stand a libel suit or two if it comes to a show-down.” “How about the out-of-town papers?” queried Caine. “Our regular chain are all right. But the rest——” “The C. G. & X. owns the Mountain State, don’t it? And it controls ninety per cent. of the mileage of the other roads that run through the State. And wherever there’s towns big enough for a paper there’s a railroad somewhere near. And wherever there’s an editor he wants his passes, don’t he? And a rebate on his freight? Well—don’t you lose sleep over the ‘press-gag.’” “How about floaters?” asked Bourke. “Same rule and same price?” “Yes. Subject to change if we’re pressed. Aldermen all right, I s’pose?” “Haven’t had a chance to sound ’em since you declared yourself,” said the president of that body, “but all except Fowler and Brayle are your own crowd and——” “Tell Fowler the C. G. & X. will give his firm a tip on the price for the next ‘sealed-bid’ contract for railroad ties. Give Brayle a hint about that indictment against his brother. It was pigeonholed, but if I tried real hard, I might induce the District Attorney to look for it. I tell you,” went on Conover, raising his voice for the first time, and glaring about the table, “every mother’s son, from engine-oiler to Congressman, has got to get down to the job and hustle as he never did before. And I’ve got the means of finding out who hustles and who shirks. And I’ve got the means of paying both kinds. And I guess there isn’t anyone that doubts I can do it. Pass that on, too. Caleb Conover for Governor, and to hell with reform!” CHAPTER V A MEETING, AN INTERRUPTION AND A LETTER