rilliant programme he had originally mapped out for himself.
Tiernan, Kerrigan, and Edstrom were friendly as yet; but they were
already making extravagant demands; and the reformers--those who had
been led by the newspapers to believe that Cowperwood was a scoundrel
and all his works vile--were demanding that a strictly moral programme
be adhered to in all the doings of council, and that no jobs,
contracts, or deals of any kind be entered into without the full
knowledge of the newspapers and of the public. Gilgan, even after the
first post-election conference with his colleagues, had begun to feel
that he was between the devil and the deep sea, but he was feeling his
way, and not inclined to be in too much of a hurry.

"It's rather a flat proposition you're makin' me," he said softly,
after a time, "askin' me to throw down me friends the moment I've won a
victory for 'em. It's not the way I've been used to playin' politics.
There may be a lot of truth in what you say. Still, a man can't be
jumpin' around like a cat in a bag. He has to be faithful to somebody
sometime." Mr. Gilgan paused, considerably nonplussed by his own
position.

"Well," replied Cowperwood, sympathetically, "think it over. It's
difficult business, this business of politics. I'm in it, for one,
only because I have to be. If you see any way you can help me, or I
can help you, let me know. In the mean time don't take in bad part
what I've just said. I'm in the position of a man with his hack to the
wall. I'm fighting for my life. Naturally, I'm going to fight. But
you and I needn't be the worse friends for that. We may become the
best of friends yet."

"It's well I know that," said Gilgan, "and it's the best of friends I'd
like to be with you. But even if I could take care of the aldermen,
which I couldn't alone as yet, there's the mayor. I don't know him at
all except to say how-do-ye-do now and then; but he's very much opposed
to you, as I understand it. He'll be running around most likely and
talking in the papers. A man like that can do a good deal."

"I may be able to arrange for that," replied Cowperwood. "Perhaps Mr.
Sluss can be reached. It may be that he isn't as opposed to me as he
thinks he is. You never can tell."

Chapter XXXIX

The New Administration

Oliver Marchbanks, the youthful fox to whom Stimson had assigned the
task of trapping Mr. Sluss in some legally unsanctioned act, had by
scurrying about fi