was to suspect that she was weighing the question which had led up to the difference between Perry and me, and I had a suspicion that the fact that I was her husband would not affect her ultimate decision.  This faculty of hers of thinking things out instead of accepting my views and decisions was, as the saying goes, getting a little “on my nerves”:  that she of all women should have developed it was a recurring and unpleasant surprise.  I began at times to pity myself a little, to feel the need of sympathetic companionship —­feminine companionship....

I shall not go into the details of the procurement of what became known as the Riverside Franchise.  In spite of the Maplewood residents, of the City Improvement League and individual protests, we obtained it with absurd ease.  Indeed Perry Blackwood himself appeared before the Public Utilities Committee of the Board of Aldermen, and was listened to with deference and gravity while he discoursed on the defacement of a beautiful boulevard to satisfy the greed of certain private individuals.  Mr. Otto Bitter and myself, who appeared for the petitioners, had a similar reception.  That struggle was a tempest in a tea-pot.  The reformer raged, but he was feeble in those days, and the great public believed what it read in the respectable newspapers.  In Mr. Judah B. Tallant’s newspaper, for instance, the Morning Era, there were semi-playful editorials about “obstructionists.”  Mr. Perry Blackwood was a well-meaning, able gentleman of an old family, etc., but with a sentiment for horse-cars.  The Era published also the resolutions which (with interesting spontaneity!) had been passed by our Board of Trade and Chamber of Commerce and other influential bodies in favour of the franchise; the idea—­unknown to the public—­of Mr. Hugh Paret, who wrote drafts of the resolutions and suggested privately to Mr. Leonard Dickinson that a little enthusiasm from these organizations might be helpful.  Mr. Dickinson accepted the suggestion eagerly, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it himself.  The resolutions carried some weight with a public that did not know its right hand from its left.

After fitting deliberation, one evening in February the Board of Aldermen met and granted the franchise.  Not unanimously, oh, no!  Mr. Jason was not so simple as that!  No further visits to Monahan’s saloon on my part, in this connection were necessary; but Mr. Otto Bitter met me one day in the hotel with a significant message from the boss.

“It’s all fixed,” he informed me.  “Murphy and Scott and Ottheimer and Grady and Loth are the decoys.  You understand?”

“I think I gather your meaning,” I said.

Mr. Bitter smiled by pulling down one corner of a crooked mouth.

“They’ll vote against it on principle, you know,” he added.  “We get a little something from the Maple Avenue residents.”