“Gentlemen,” asked he, “who are you for, for chairman?”
“Who do you want?” asked Gartenheim.
“Well, I’d like to see Pete Comisky hold the office. He’s a straight man.”
“Peter’s all right,” said O’Connor.
“Who do you say, Larry?” inquired Kerrigan.
“Grat Haley.”
“Haley!” Kerrigan stared at him amazedly. “Haley! Why you’re mad. Haley would rule against us every time.”
“He might—if we let him. It’s just like this. Haley’s got the chairmanship cinched; no one else can win against him; I’ve been over the bunch, and I know.” Larry took his cigar from his mouth and pointed it at Kerrigan, impressively. “The chairmanship’s the first test o’ strength. Make a fight on that and lose, and youse might as well chuck up the sponge, on the spot. We’ve got grafters on our side, Johnnie, and you know it; if they see us shake they’ll fly the coop.”
“That sounds good,” admitted Kerrigan. “What do you suggest?”
“We’ll t’row our vote to Haley; they can’t see our hand then; and we’ll hold all our people for the real work.”