rtably contemplate, and they would prefer a hundred.
It is little enough for so great an outlay. The policy now being
pursued here can lead only to the public ownership of public utilities,
and that is something which the national Democratic party at large can
certainly not afford to advocate at present. It would antagonize the
money element from coast to coast. Any man whose political record was
definitely identified with such a movement would have no possible
chance at even a state nomination, let alone a national one. He could
never be elected. I make myself clear, do I not?"

"You do."

"A man can just as easily be taken from the mayor's office in Chicago
as from the governor's office at Springfield," pursued Mr. Carker.
"Mr. Haeckelheimer and Mr. Fishel have personally asked me to call on
you. If you want to be mayor of Chicago again for two years or
governor next year, until the time for picking a candidate for the
Presidency arrives, suit yourself. In the mean time you will be
unwise, in my judgment, to saddle yourself with this public-ownership
idea. The newspapers in fighting Mr. Cowperwood have raised an issue
which never should have been raised."

After Mr. Carker's departure, arrived Mr. Edward Arneel, of local
renown, and then Mr. Jacob Bethal, the Democratic leader in San
Francisco, both offering suggestions which if followed might result in
mutual support. There were in addition delegations of powerful
Republicans from Minneapolis and from Philadelphia. Even the president
of the Lake City Bank and the president of the Prairie National--once
anti-Cowperwood--arrived to say what had already been said. So it
went. Mr. Lucas was greatly nonplussed. A political career was surely
a difficult thing to effect. Would it pay to harry Mr. Cowperwood as
he had set out to do? Would a steadfast policy advocating the cause of
the people get him anywhere? Would they be grateful? Would they
remember? Suppose the current policy of the newspapers should be
modified, as Mr. Carker had suggested that it might be. What a mess
and tangle politics really were!

"Well, Bessie," he inquired of his handsome, healthy, semi-blonde wife,
one evening, "what would you do if you were I?"

She was gray-eyed, gay, practical, vain, substantially connected in so
far as family went, and proud of her husband's position and future. He
had formed the habit of talking over his various difficulties with her.

"Well, I'll tel