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THE TITAN
this time. What do you stand to lose, anyhow? They can’t run you
out for cutting the ticket. They can’t prove it. We’ll bring police in
here to make it look like a fair vote. I’ll put up as much money as
they will to carry this district, and more».
Mr. Kerrigan suddenly saw a grand coup here. He could «draw
down» from the Democrats, as he would have expressed it, twenty
to twenty-fi ve thousand dollars to do the dirty work here. Gilgan
would furnish him as much and more — the situation being so
critical. Perhaps fi fteen or eighteen thousand would be necessary
to poll the number of votes required either way. At the last hour,
before stuffi ng the boxes, he would learn how the city was going. If it
looked favorable for the Republicans it would be easy to complete
the victory and complain that his lieutenants had been suborned.
If it looked certain for the Democrats he could throw Gilgan and
pocket his funds. In either case he would be «in» twenty-fi ve to thirty thousand dollars, and he would still be councilman.
«All very fi ne», replied Mr. Kerrigan, pretending a dullness which
he did not feel; «but it’s damned ticklish business at best. I don’t
know that I want anything to do with it even if we could win. It’s true
the City Hall crowd have never played into my hands very much; but
this is a Democratic district, and I’m a Democrat. If it ever got out that
I had thrown the party it would be pretty near all day with me».
«I’m a man of my word», declared Mr. Gilgan, emphatically, getting up. «I never threw a man or a bet in my life. Look at me record in the eighteenth. Did you ever hear any one say that I had?»
«No, I never did», returned Kerrigan, mildly. «But it’s a pretty
large thing you’re proposing, Mr. Gilgan. I wouldn’t want to say
what I thought about it offhand. This ward is supposed to be Democratic. It couldn’t be swung over into the Republican column without a good bit of fuss being made about it. You’d better see Mr. Tiernan fi rst and hear what he has to say. Afterward I might be willing
to talk about it further. Not now, though — not now».
Mr. Gilgan went away quite jauntily and cheerfully. He was
not at all downcast.
CHAPTER XXXVI
AN ELECTION DRAWS NEAR
Subsequently Mr. Kerrigan called on Mr. Tiernan casually. Mr.
Tiernan returned the call. A little later Messrs. Tiernan, Kerrigan,
and Gilgan, in a parlor-room in a small hotel in Milwaukee (in order not to be seen together), conferred. Finally Messrs. Tiernan, Edstrom, Kerrigan, and Gilgan met and mapped out a programme of
division far too intricate to be indicated here. Needless to say, it
involved the division of chief clerks, pro rata, of police graft, of
gambling and bawdy-house perquisites, of returns from gas, streetrailway, and other organizations. It was sealed with many solemn
promises. If it could be made effective this quadrumvirate was to
endure for years. Judges, small magistrates, offi cers large and small,
the shrievalty, the water offi ce, the tax offi ce, all were to come within its purview. It was a fi ne, handsome political dream, and as such
worthy of every courtesy and consideration but it was only a political dream in its ultimate aspects, and as such impressed the participants themselves at times.
The campaign was now in full blast. The summer and fall (September and October) went by to the tune of Democratic and Republican marching club bands, to the sound of lusty political voices orating in parks, at street-corners, in wooden «wigwams», halls,
tents, and parlors — wherever a meager handful of listeners could
be drummed up and made by any device to keep still. The newspapers honked and bellowed, as is the way with those profi t-appointed
advocates and guardians of «right» and «justice». Cowperwood and
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THE TITAN
McKenty were denounced from nearly every street-corner in Chicago. Wagons and sign-boards on wheels were hauled about labeled
«Break the partnership between the street-railway corporations and
the city council». «Do you want more streets stolen?» «Do you want
Cowperwood to own Chicago?» Cowperwood himself, coming downtown of a morning or driving home of an evening, saw these things.
He saw the huge signs, listened to speeches denouncing himself, and
smiled. By now he was quite aware as to whence this powerful uprising had sprung. Hand was back of it, he knew — for so McKenty and
Addison had quickly discovered — and with Hand was Schryhart,
Arneel, Merrill, the Douglas Trust Company, the various editors,
young Truman Leslie MacDonald, the old gas crowd, the Chicago
General Company — all. He even suspected that certain aldermen
might possibly be suborned to desert him, though all professed loyalty. McKenty, Addison, Videra, and himself were planning the details of their defenses as carefully and effectively as possible. Cowperwood was fully alive to the fact that if he lost this election — the
fi rst to be vigorously contested — it might involve a serious chain of
events; but he did not propose to be unduly disturbed, since he could
always fi ght in the courts by money, and by preferment in the council, and with the mayor and the city attorney. «There is more than
one way to kill a cat», was one of his pet expressions, and it expressed
his logic and courage exactly. Yet he did not wish to lose.
One of the amusing features of the campaign was that the McKenty orators had been instructed to shout as loudly for reforms as
the Republicans, only instead of assailing Cowperwood and McKenty they were to point out that Schryhart’s Chicago City Railway
was far more rapacious, and that this was a scheme to give it a blanket franchise of all streets not yet covered by either the Cowperwood or the Schryhart-Hand-Arneel lines. It was a pretty argument.
The Democrats could point with pride to a uniformly liberal interpretation of some trying Sunday laws, whereby under Republican
and reform administrations it had been occasionally diffi cult for
the honest working-man to get his glass or pail of beer on Sunday.
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THEODORE DREISER
On the other hand it was possible for the Republican orators to show
how «the low dives and gin-mills» were everywhere being operated in favor of McKenty, and that under the highly respectable administration of the Republican candidate for mayor this partnership
between the city government and vice and crime would be nullifi ed.
«If I am elected», declared the Honorable Chaffee Thayer Sluss,
the Republican candidate, «neither Frank Cowperwood nor John
McKenty will dare to show his face in the City Hall unless he comes
with clean hands and an honest purpose.
«Hooray!» yelled the crowd.
«I know that ass», commented Addison, when he read this in
the Transcript . «He used to be a clerk in the Douglas Trust Company. He’s made a little money recently in the paper business. He’s
a mere tool for the Arneel-Schryhart interests. He hasn’t the courage of a two-inch fi sh-worm».
When McKenty read it he simply observed: «There are other
ways of going to City Hall than by going yourself». He was depending upon a councilmanic majority at least.
However, in the midst of this uproar the goings to and fro of Gilgan, Edstrom, Kerrigan, and Tiernan were nor fully grasped. A more
urbanely shifty pair than these latter were never seen. While fraternizing secretly with both Gilgan and Edstrom, laying out their
political programme most neatly, they were at the same time conferring with Dowling, Duvanicki, even McKenty himself. Seeing that
the outcome was, for some reason — he could scarcely see why —
looking very uncertain, McKenty one day asked the two of them to
come to see him. On getting the letter Mr. Tiernan strolled over to
Mr. Kerrigan’s place to see whether he also had received a message.
«Sure, sure! I did!» replied Mr. Kerrigan, gaily. «Here it is now in
me outside coat pocket. ‘Dear Mr. Kerrigan,’» he read, «‘won’t you
do me the favor to come over to-morrow evening at seven and dine
with me? Mr. Ungerich, Mr. Duvanicki, and several others will
very likely drop in afterward. I have asked Mr. Tiernan to come at
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THE TITAN
the same time. Sincerely, John J. McKenty.’ That’s the way he does
it», added Mr. Kerrigan; «just like that».
He kissed the letter mockingly and put it back into his pocket.
«Sure I got one, jist the same way. The very same langwidge,
nearly», commented Mr. Tiernan, sweetly. «He’s beginning to wake
up, eh? What! The little old fi rst and second are beginning to look
purty big just now, eh? What!»
«Tush!» observed Mr. Kerrigan to Mr. Tiernan, with a marked
sardonic emphasis, «that combination won’t last forever. They’ve
been getting too big for their pants, I’m thinking. Well, it’s a long
road, eh? It’s pretty near time, what?»
«You’re right», responded Mr. Tiernan, feelingly. «It is a long
road. These are the two big wards of the city, and everybody knows
it. If we turn on them at the last moment where will they be, eh?»
He put a fat fi nger alongside of his heavy reddish nose and
looked at Mr. Kerrigan out of squinted eyes.
«You’re damned right», replied the little politician, cheerfully.
They went to the dinner separately, so as not to appear to have
conferred before, and greeted each other on arriving as though they
had not seen each other for days.
«How’s business, Mike?»
«Oh, fair, Pat. How’s things with you?»
«So so».
«Things lookin’ all right in your ward for November?»
Mr. Tiernan wrinkled a fat forehead. «Can’t tell yet». All this
was for the benefi t of Mr. McKenty, who did not suspect rank party
disloyalty.
Nothing much came of this conference, except that they sat
about discussing in a general way wards, pluralities, what Zeigler
was likely to do with the twelfth, whether Pinski could make it in
the sixth, Schlumbohm in the twentieth, and so on. New Republican contestants in old, safe Democratic wards were making things
look dubious.
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THEODORE DREISER
«And how about the fi rst, Kerrigan?» inquired Ungerich, a thin,
refl ective German-American of shrewd presence. Ungerich was one
who had hitherto wormed himself higher in McKenty’s favor than
either Kerrigan or Tiernan.
«Oh, the fi rst’s all right», replied Kerrigan, archly. «Of course
you never can tell. This fellow Scully may do something, but I don’t
think it will be much. If we have the same police protection —»
Ungerich was gratifi ed. He was having a struggle in his own
ward, where a rival by the name of Glover appeared to be pouring
out money like water. He would require considerably more money
than usual to win. It was the same with Duvanicki.
McKenty fi nally parted with his lieutenants — more feelingly
with Kerrigan and Tiernan than he had ever done before. He did not
wholly trust these two, and he could not exactly admire them and
their methods, which were the roughest of all, but they were useful.
«I’m glad to learn», he said, at parting, «that things are looking all
right with you, Pat, and you, Mike», nodding to each in turn. «We’re
going to need the most we can get out of everybody. I depend on you
two to make a fi ne showing — the best of any. The rest of us will not
forget it when the plums are being handed around afterward».
«Oh, you can depend on me to do the best I can always», commented Mr. Kerrigan, sympathetically. «It’s a tough year, but we
haven’t failed yet».
«And me, Chief! That goes for me», observed Mr. Tiernan, raucously. «I guess I can do as well as I have».
«Good for you, Mike!» soothed McKenty, laying a gentle hand on
his shoulder. «And you, too, Kerrigan. Yours are the key wards, and
we understand that. I’ve always been sorry that the leaders couldn’t
agree on you two for something better than councilmen; but next
time there won’t be any doubt of it, if I have any infl uence then».
He went in and closed the door. Outside a cool October wind was
whipping dead leaves and weed stalks along the pavements. Neither
Tiernan nor Kerrigan spoke, though they had come away together,
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THE TITAN
until they were two hundred feet down the avenue toward Van Buren.
«Some talk, that, eh?» commented Mr. Tiernan, eying Mr. Kerrigan in the fl are of a passing gas-lamp.
«Sure. That’s the stuff they always hand out when they’re up
against it. Pretty kind words, eh?»
«And after ten years of about the roughest work that’s done, eh?
It’s about time, what? Say, it’s a wonder he didn’t think of that last
June when the convention was in session.
«Tush! Mikey», smiled Mr. Kerrigan, grimly. «You’re a bad little
boy. You want your pie too soon. Wait another two or four or six
years, like Paddy Kerrigan and the others».
«Yes, I will — not», growled Mr. Tiernan. «Wait’ll the sixth».
«No more, will I», replied Mr. Kerrigan. «Say, we know a trick
that beats that next-year business to a pulp. What?»
«You’re dead right», commented Mr. Tiernan.
And so they went peacefully home.
CHAPTER XXXVII
AILEEN’S REVENGE
The interesting Polk Lynde, rising one morning, decided that his
affair with Aileen, sympathetic as it was, must culminate in the one
fashion satisfactory to him here and now — this day, if possible, or
the next. Since the luncheon some considerable time had elapsed,
and although he had tried to seek her out in various ways, Aileen,
owing to a certain feeling that she must think and not jeopardize
her future, had evaded him. She realized well enough that she
was at the turning of the balance, now that opportunity was knocking so loudly at her door, and she was exceedingly coy and distrait.
In spite of herself the old grip of Cowperwood was over her — the
conviction that he was such a tremendous fi gure in the world — and
this made her strangely disturbed, nebulous, and meditative. Another type of woman, having troubled as much as she had done, would
have made short work of it, particularly since the details in regard to
Mrs. Hand had been added. Not so Aileen. She could not quite forget
the early vows and promises exchanged between them, nor conquer
the often-fractured illusions that he might still behave himself.
On the other hand, Polk Lynde, marauder, social adventurer,
a bucaneer of the affections, was not so easily to be put aside, delayed, and gainsaid. Not unlike Cowperwood, he was a man of real
force, and his methods, in so far as women were concerned, were
even more daring. Long trifl ing with the sex had taught him that
they were coy, uncertain, foolishly inconsistent in their moods, even
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THE TITAN
with regard to what they most desired. If one contemplated victory,
it had frequently to be taken with an iron hand.
From this attitude on his part had sprung his rather dark fame.
Aileen felt it on the day that she took lunch with him. His solemn,
dark eyes were treacherously sweet. She felt as if she might be paving the way for some situation in which she would fi nd herself helpless before his sudden mood — and yet she had come.
But Lynde, meditating Aileen’s delay, had this day decided that
he should get a defi nite decision, and that it should be favorable.
He called her up at ten in the morning and chafed her concerning
her indecision and changeable moods. He wanted to know whether
she would not come and see the paintings at his friend’s studio —
whether she could not make up her mind to come to a barn-dance
which some bachelor friends of his had arranged. When she pleaded
being out of sorts he urged her to pull herself together. «You’re making things very diffi cult for your admirers», he suggested, sweetly.
Aileen fancied she had postponed the struggle diplomatically
for some little time without ending it, when at two o’clock in the afternoon her door-bell was rung and the name of Lynde brought
up. «He said he was sure you were in», commented the footman, on
whom had been pressed a dollar, «and would you see him for just
a moment? He would not keep you more than a moment».
Aileen, taken off her guard by this effrontery, uncertain as to
whether there might not be something of some slight import concerning which he wished to speak to her, quarreling with herself
because of her indecision, really fascinated by Lynde as a rival for her
affections, and remembering his jesting, coaxing voice of the morning, decided to go down. She was lonely, and, clad in a lavender housegown with an ermine collar and sleeve cuffs, was reading a book.
«Show him into the music-room», she said to the lackey. When
she entered she was breathing with some slight diffi culty, for so
Lynde affected her. She knew she had displayed fear by not going to
him before, and previous cowardice plainly manifested does not add
to one’s power of resistance.
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THEODORE DREISER
«Oh!» she exclaimed, with an assumption of bravado which she
did not feel. «I didn’t expect to see you so soon after your telephone
message. You have never been in our house before, have you? Won’t
you put up your coat and hat and come into the gallery? It’s brighter
there, and you might be interested in some of the pictures».
Lynde, who was seeking for any pretext whereby he might prolong his stay and overcome her nervous mood, accepted, pretending,
however, that he was merely passing and with a moment to spare.
«Thought I’d get just one glimpse of you again. Couldn’t resist
the temptation to look in. Stunning room, isn’t it? Spacious — and
there you are! Who did that? Oh, I see — Van Beers. And a jolly fi ne
piece of work it is, too, charming».
He surveyed her and then turned back to the picture where,
ten years younger, buoyant, hopeful, carrying her blue-and-white
striped parasol, she sat on a stone bench against the Dutch background of sky and clouds. Charmed by the picture she presented in
both cases, he was genially complimentary. To-day she was stouter,
ruddier — the fi ber of her had hardened, as it does with so many as
the years come on; but she was still in full bloom — a little late in
the summer, but in full bloom.
«Oh yes; and this Rembrandt — I’m surprised! I did not know your
husband’s collection was so representative. Israels, I see, and Gerome,
and Meissonier! Gad! It is a representative collection, isn’t it?»
«Some of the things are excellent», she commented, with an air,
aping Cowperwood and others, «but a number will be weeded out
eventually — that Paul Potter and this Goy — as better examples
come into the market».
She had heard Cowperwood say as much, over and over.
Finding that conversation was possible between them in this
easy, impersonal way, Aileen became quite natural and interested,
pleased and entertained by his discreet and charming presence. Evidently he did not intend to pay much more than a passing social
call. On the other hand, Lynde was studying her, wondering what
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