a tremendous uproar being raised
concerning the alliance between the criminals and the police. For the
criminal graft was one in which the business men had no direct part--it
was what is called a "side line," carried by the police. "Wide
open" gambling and debauchery made the city pleasing to "trade," but
burglaries and holdups did not. One night it chanced that while Jack
Duane was drilling a safe in a clothing store he was caught red-handed
by the night watchman, and turned over to a policeman, who chanced to
know him well, and who took the responsibility of letting him make his
escape. Such a howl from the newspapers followed this that Duane was
slated for sacrifice, and barely got out of town in time. And just at
that juncture it happened that Jurgis was introduced to a man named
Harper whom he recognized as the night watchman at Brown's, who had been
instrumental in making him an American citizen, the first year of his
arrival at the yards. The other was interested in the coincidence, but
did not remember Jurgis--he had handled too many "green ones" in his
time, he said. He sat in a dance hall with Jurgis and Halloran until one
or two in the morning, exchanging experiences. He had a long story to
tell of his quarrel with the superintendent of his department, and how
he was now a plain workingman, and a good union man as well. It was not
until some months afterward that Jurgis understood that the quarrel with
the superintendent had been prearranged, and that Harper was in reality
drawing a salary of twenty dollars a week from the packers for an inside
report of his union's secret proceedings. The yards were seething with
agitation just then, said the man, speaking as a unionist. The people of
Packingtown had borne about all that they would bear, and it looked as
if a strike might begin any week.

After this talk the man made inquiries concerning Jurgis, and a couple
of days later he came to him with an interesting proposition. He was
not absolutely certain, he said, but he thought that he could get him
a regular salary if he would come to Packingtown and do as he was told,
and keep his mouth shut. Harper--"Bush" Harper, he was called--was a
right-hand man of Mike Scully, the Democratic boss of the stockyards;
and in the coming election there was a peculiar situation. There had
come to Scully a proposition to nominate a certain rich brewer who lived
upon a swell boulevard that skirted the district, and who coveted the