at about
three years ago, at the time I was elected, he was broke, flat broke. He
had a social position through his family. His father and mother, who
are well known and well respected and who are dead, left him only a
little. Three years ago he was in debt and then, suddenly, from some
mysterious source, money began to flow into his hands. I don't know
where it comes from, but he has it.

"He paid all he owed and began building up a reputation as a fine young
fellow, so that he now has the esteem of men and women and organizations
that count for much. His motive? Money!"

"That's a long shot, Mr. Mayor," said Brennan, "a long, long shot."

"I know it," said the mayor. "That's why I called you in here, today."

"That's all the information you have?" asked the reporter.

"That's all I have," the mayor said. "But it's been done before and it
seems to me that Gibson isn't so smart that he could make the moves he
has alone. You know the 'Gink.' You know how clever he is and how
painstaking and patient he is in everything he does. What do you say?"

"It's a long shot, but it's worth it," Brennan said. "If you're going
through with it you can begin by sitting tight, keeping Sweeney in
office and working as hard as you can to get evidence that will break
Gibson and the 'Gink'--if they are partners--once and for all."

The mayor rose from his chair and began his pacing back and forth
again. He pushed out his short, thin legs to twice the length of his
ordinary stride. He tossed the stub of his cigar over his shoulder and
it fell at John's feet. He snapped his teeth on the end of a fresh cigar
and thrust his hands into his pockets.

He crossed over to a window looking down on Broadway and his nervousness
disappeared as he gazed into the throbbing thoroughfare below him. From
where he was sitting John could see that the mayor had a fond look in
his eyes as he watched the roaring traffic of the principal street of
the great city that had honored him by electing him to its highest
office.

Finally he turned and came slowly back to his desk. He stood erect
beside it and John saw a look of determination come over the features he
had considered so mild and pleasing.

"By God"--he used the name of the Creator softly, reverently, as if he
were invoking aid from the Almighty--"Brennan, I'll do it."

* * * * *

Sunday morning John and his mother prepared for Consuello's visit to
their modest li