“Yes,” assented Big Kennedy thoughtfully, “I s'ppose that's so, too. It would be askin' too much to expect that a force, as you say, of six thousand could be brought together, an' have 'em all crooked. It was Father Considine who mentioned this McCue; he said he was his cousin an' asked me to give him a shove along. It shows what I've claimed a dozen times, that th' Church ought to keep its nose out o' politics. However, I'll look over th' list, an' give you some good name to-morrow.” “But how about th' town?” asked the Chief of Police anxiously. “I want to know what I'm doin'. Tell me plain, just what goes an' what don't.” “This for a pointer, then,” responded Big Kennedy. “Whatever goes has got to go on th' quiet. I've got to keep things smooth between me an' th' mugwumps. The gamblers can run; an' I don't find any fault with even th' green-goods people. None of 'em can beat a man who don't put himself within his reach, an' I don't protect suckers. But knucks, dips, sneaks, second-story people, an' strong-arm men have got to quit. That's straight; let a trick come off on th' street cars, or at th' theater, or in the dark, or let a crib get cracked, an' there'll be trouble between you an' me, d'ye see! An' if anything as big as a bank should get done up, why then, you send in your resignation. An' at that, you'll be dead lucky if you don't do time.” “There's th' stations an' th' ferries,” said the other, with an insinuating leer. “You know a mob of them Western fine-workers are likely to blow in on us, an' we not wise to 'em--not havin' their mugs in the gallery. That sort of knuck might do business at th' depots or ferries, an' we couldn't help ourselves. Anyway,” he concluded hopefully, “they seldom touch up our own citizens; it's mostly th' farmers they go through.” “All right,” said Big Kennedy cheerfully, “I'm not worryin' about what comes off with th' farmers. But you tell them fine-workers, whose mugs you haven't got, that if anyone who can vote or raise a row in New York City goes shy his watch or leather, th' artist who gets it can't come here ag'in. Now mind: You've got to keep this town so I can hang my watch on any lamp-post in it, an' go back in a week an' find it hasn't been touched. There'll be plenty of ways for me an' you to get rich without standin' for sneaks an' hold-ups.” Big Kennedy, so soon as he got possession of Tammany, began divers improvements of a political sort, and each looking to our safety and perpetuation. One of his moves was to break up the ward gangs, and this included the Tin Whistles. “For one thing, we don't need 'em--you an' me,” said he. “They could only help us while we stayed in our ward an' kept in touch with 'em. The gangs strengthen th' ward leaders, but they don't strengthen th' Chief. So we're goin' to abolish 'em. The weaker we make th' ward leaders, the stronger we make ourselves. Do you ketch on?” and Big Kennedy nudged me significantly.