“No. I’m not ready to say that. I’ve got to think them over.”
“If you do that, Mr. Stirling, you’ll find we are right. We have not been twenty and thirty years in this business for nothing.”
“I think you know how to run a party—but poisoned milk was peddled in my ward. I went to law to punish the men who sold it. Now I’m going into politics to try and get laws and administration which will prevent such evils. I’ve told my district what I want. I think it will support me. I know you can help me, and I hope you will. We may disagree on methods, but if we both wish the good of New York, we can’t disagree on results.” Peter stopped, rather amazed himself at the length of his speech.
“What do you want us to do?”
“You say that you want to remain in control. You say you can only do so by majorities. I want you to give this city such a government that you’ll poll every honest vote on our side,” said Peter warmly.
“That’s only the generalization of a very young man,” said the leader.
Peter liked him all the better for the snub. “I generalized, because it would make clear the object of my particular endeavors. I want to have the Health Board help me to draft a food-inspection bill, and I want the legislature to pass it, without letting it be torn to pieces for the benefit of special interests. I don’t mind fair amendments, but they must be honest ones.”
“And if the Health Board helps you, and the bill is made a law?”
Peter looked Mr. Costell in the face, and spoke quietly: “I shall tell my ward that you have done them a great service.”
Two of the men moved uneasily in their seats, as if not comfortable, and a third scowled.