Big Kennedy's programme was worked from beginning to end by Foxy Billy and Darby the Goph, and never jar nor jolt nor any least of friction. It ran out as smoothly as two and two make four. In the end, Big Kennedy held in his fingers every evidence required to uproot the Chief. The ear and the hand of Darby the Goph had in no sort lost their cunning. “An' now,” said Big Kennedy, when dismissing Darby the Goph, “you go back where you belong. I've wired the warden, an' he'll give you that bit of dough. I've sent for a copper to put you on th' train. I don't want to take chances on you stayin' over a day. You might get to lushin', an' disgrace yourself with th' warden.” The police officer arrived, and Big Kennedy told him to see Darby the Goph aboard the train. “Don't make no mistake,” said Big Kennedy, by way of warning. “He belongs in Sing Sing, an' must get back without fail to-night. Stay by th' train till it pulls out.” “How about th' bristles?” said the officer, pointing to the two-weeks' growth of beard that stubbled the chin of the visitor. “Shall I have him scraped?” “No, they'll fix his face up there,” said Big Kennedy. “The warden don't care what he looks like, only so he gets his clamps on him ag'in.” “Here's the documents,” said Big Kennedy, when Darby the Goph and his escort had departed. “The question now is, how to give th' Chief th' gaff, an' gaff him deep an' good. He's th' party who was goin' to leave me on both sides of th' street.” This last with an exultant sneer. It was on my thoughts that the hand to hurl the thunderbolt we had been forging was that of the reputable old gentleman. The blow would fall more smitingly if dealt by him; his was a name superior for this duty to either Big Kennedy's or my own. With this argument, Big Kennedy declared himself in full accord. “It'll look more like th' real thing,” said he, “to have th' kick come from th' outside. Besides, if I went to th' fore it might get in my way hereafter.” The reputable old gentleman moved with becoming conservatism, not to say dignity. He took the documents furnished by the ingenuity of Darby the Goph, and the oil-burning industry of Foxy Billy, and pored over them for a day. Then he sent for Big Kennedy. “The evidence you furnish me,” said he, “seems absolutely conclusive. It betrays a corruption not paralleled in modern times, with the head of Tammany as the hub of the villainy. The town has been plundered of millions,” concluded the reputable old gentleman, with a fine oratorical flourish, “and it is my duty to lay bare this crime in all its enormity, as one of the people's Representatives.” “An' a taxpayer,” added Big Kennedy. “Sir, my duty as a Representative,” returned the reputable old gentleman severely, “has precedence over my privileges as a taxpayer.” Then, as though the question offered difficulties: “The first step should be the publication of these documents in a paper of repute.”