past and talk about its
present and its future."

"I don't see that it has any present or future to talk about, with you
at the helm."

"Oh, come now! Granted that my ways haven't been the best for the
party. Granted that you don't like me. Is that any reason we shouldn't
at least talk things over? Now, I admit we don't stand the shadow of a
ghost's show this election unless we make some changes. You represent
the element in the party that has talked most for changes, and I have
come to get your views."

Bruce studied the loose-skinned, flabby face, wondering what was going
on behind that old mask.

"What are your own views?" he demanded shortly.

Blind Charlie had taken out a plug of tobacco and with a jack-knife
had cut off a thin slice. This, held between thumb and knife-blade,
he now slowly transferred to his mouth.

"Perhaps they're nearer your own than you think. I see, too, that the
old ways won't serve us now. Blake will put up a good ticket. I hear
Kennedy is to be his mayor. The whole ticket will be men who'll be
respectable, but they'll see that Blake gets what he wants. Isn't that
so?"

Bruce thought suddenly of Blake's scheme to capture the water-works.

"Very likely," he admitted.

"Now between ourselves," the old man went on confidingly, "we know
that Blake has been getting what he wants for years--of course in a
quiet, moderate way. Did you ever think of this, how the people here
call me a 'boss' but never think of Blake as one? Blake's an 'eminent
citizen.' When the fact is, he's a stronger, cleverer boss than I ever
was. My way is the old way; it's mostly out of date. Blake's way is
the new way. He's found out that the best method to get the people is
to be clean, or to seem clean. If I wanted a thing I used to go out
and grab it. If Blake wants a thing he makes it appear that he's
willing to go to considerable personal trouble to take it in order to
do a favour to the city, and the people fall all over themselves to
give it to him. He's got the churches lined up as solid behind him
as I used to have the saloons. Now I know we can't beat Blake with
the kind of a ticket our party has been putting up. And I know we
can't beat Blake with a respectable ticket, for between our
respectables----"

"Charlie Peck's respectables!" Bruce interrupted ironically.

"And Blake's respectables," the old man continued imperturbably, "the
people will choose Blake's. Are my conclusions right so far?"

"C