“D—d if I wouldn't make a good one, too,” he said. “D—d if I wouldn't show 'em what a real mayor is!”
“I guess there's no danger of your ever being mayor, Judd,” Tallant observed, with a somewhat uneasy jocularity.
“I guess there isn't, Judah,” replied the boss, quickly, but with a peculiar violet flash in his eyes. “They won't ever make you mayor, either, if I can help it. And I've a notion I can. I'd rather see Krebs mayor.”
“You don't think he meant to propose you seriously,” Tallant exclaimed.
“I'm not a d—d fool,” said the boss. “But I'll say this, that he half meant it. Krebs has a head-piece on him, and I tell you if any of this reform dope is worth anything his is. There's some sense in what he's talking, and if all the voters was like him you might get a man like me for mayor. But they're not, and I guess they never will be.”
“Sure,” said Mr. Jason. “The people are dotty—there ain't one in ten thousand understands what he's driving at when he gets off things like that. They take it on the level.”
Tallant reflected.
“By gum, I believe you're right,” he said. “You think they will blow up?” he added.
“Krebs is the whole show, I tell you. They wouldn't be anywhere without him. The yaps that listen to him don't understand him, but somehow he gets under their skins. Have you seen him lately?”
“Never saw him,” replied Tallant.