hat the city
owns under the river at Washington and La Salle streets?"

"I know that the city took them over when it didn't need them, and that
they're no good for anything. That was before my time, though,"
explained McKenty, cautiously. "I think the city paid a million for
them. Why?"

"Oh, nothing much," replied Cowperwood, evading the matter for the
present. "I was wondering whether they were in such condition that
they couldn't be used for anything. I see occasional references in the
papers to their uselessness."

"They're in pretty bad shape, I'm afraid," replied McKenty. "I haven't
been through either of them in years and years. The idea was
originally to let the wagons go through them and break up the crowding
at the bridges. But it didn't work. They made the grade too steep and
the tolls too high, and so the drivers preferred to wait for the
bridges. They were pretty hard on horses. I can testify to that
myself. I've driven a wagon-load through them more than once. The
city should never have taken them over at all by rights. It was a
deal. I don't know who all was in it. Carmody was mayor then, and
Aldrich was in charge of public works."

He relapsed into silence, and Cowperwood allowed the matter of the
tunnels to rest until after dinner when they had adjourned to the
library. There he placed a friendly hand on McKenty's arm, an act of
familiarity which the politician rather liked.

"You felt pretty well satisfied with the way that gas business came out
last year, didn't you?" he inquired.

"I did," replied McKenty, warmly. "Never more so. I told you that at
the time." The Irishman liked Cowperwood, and was grateful for the
swift manner in which he had been made richer by the sum of several
hundred thousand dollars.

"Well, now, McKenty," continued Cowperwood, abruptly, and with a
seeming lack of connection, "has it ever occurred to you that things
are shaping up for a big change in the street-railway situation here? I
can see it coming. There's going to be a new motor power introduced on
the South Side within a year or two. You've heard of it?"

"I read something of it," replied McKenty, surprised and a little
questioning. He took a cigar and prepared to listen. Cowperwood,
never smoking, drew up a chair.

"Well, I'll tell you what that means," he explained. "It means that
eventually every mile of street-railway track in this city--to say
nothing of all the additional miles