Boozy grasped Dennie's hand admiringly. "It's a great head ye have, Dennie, wid a power o' brains in it an' a talent fer shpakin' 'em out. I'll l'ave the fixin' av it in your hands. Ye'll see The Croak, Dennie, an' get his figgers, an' harkee, Dennie, if ye air thrue to me, Dennie, ye'll be makin' a fri'nd, d'ye moind!" While Dennie was thus engaged with Boozy, The Croak was occupied in effecting a similar arrangement with Mr. Bockerheisen. In a few gloomy but well-chosen words, for The Croak, though a mournful, was yet a vigorous, talker, he explained to Bockerheisen that a wicked conspiracy had been entered into by Boozy and McCafferty to bring about his defeat by fraud, and he urged that Mr. Bockerheisen "get on to 'em" without delay. [Illustration: MR. BOCKERHEISEN.] "Dot I vill!" said the German savagely, "I giv you two huntered tolars for der names of der men vat dot Poozy mitout der law registers!" "I aint no copper!" cried The Croak, angrily. "Wot you wants ter do is ter get elected, doncher?" "Vell, how vas I get elected mit wotes vat vas for der udder mans cast, hey?" "You can't," said The Croak, "dey aint no doubt 'bout dat." "If dey vas cast for him, dey don't gount for me, hey?" "No." "Den I vill yust der bolice got und raise der debbil mit dot Poozy." "Hol' on!" the Croak replied. "If dey was ter make a mistake about de ballots, an' s'posen 'stead of deir bein' hisn dey happens to be yourn, den if dey're cast fer you dey wont count fer him, will dey?" Mr. Bockerheisen turned his head around and stared at The Croak in an evidently painful effort to grasp the idea. "If Boozy t'inks dey're his wotes--" "Yah," said Bockerheisen reflectively. "And pays all de heavy 'spences of uniforms an' beer--" "Yah," said Bockerheisen, with an affable smile. "But w'en dey comes to wote--" "Yah," said Bockerheisen, opening his eyes. "Deir ballots don't hev his tickets in 'em--" "Yah!" said Bockerheisen quickly. "But has yourn instead--" "Yah-ah!" said Bockerheisen, rubbing his hands. "Den an' in dat case who does dey count fer?" Mr. Bockerheisen leaned his head upon his hand, which was supported by the bar against which they were standing, slowly closed one eye, and murmured, "Yah-ah-ah." "I t'ought you'd see de p'int w'en I got it out right," said The Croak. "How you do somedings like dot?" "Dat aint fer me to say," The Croak diffidently remarked. "But dey do tell me dat dat McCafferty has a grudge agin Boozy, an if you wants me ter ask him ter drop in yere an hev a talk wid ye, I'll do it."