"I know Mr.
McKenty by sight, and I've seen Mr.Cowperwood once." He said no more.
"Well," said Mr.Hand, "suppose a group of influential men here in Chicago were to get together and guarantee sufficient funds for a city-wide campaign; now, if you had the complete support of the newspapers and the Republican organization in the bargain, could you organize the opposition here so that the Democratic party could be beaten this fall?
I'm not talking about the mayor merely and the principal city officers, but the council, too--the aldermen.

I want to fix things so that the McKenty-Cowperwood crowd couldn't get an alderman or a city official to sell out, once they are elected.

I want the Democratic party beaten so thoroughly that there won't be any question in anybody's mind as to the fact that it has been done.

There will be plenty of money forthcoming if you can prove to me, or, rather, to the group of men I am thinking of, that the thing can be done." Mr.Gilgan blinked his eyes solemnly.

He rubbed his knees, put his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, took out a cigar, lit it, and gazed poetically at the ceiling.