Читать книгу The 13th District. A Story of a Candidate онлайн

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“What plan do you propose?”

“Well,” said McFarlane, “just what I told you. We ought to poll every county in the district, make a separate an’ distinct poll fer ourselves, independent of the county committees, and then—get out the vote. It’ll take money, of course.”

Judge Bromley was tapping his pencil lightly on the desk.

“Do you think I should make a personal canvass of the district?”

McFarlane hesitated.

“Well,” he said, “that might be a good thing a little later.” He looked at the judge’s clothes, made by a Chicago tailor, as he supposed, though they were made by a New York tailor, at his red carnation, at his rimless pince-nez, and thought of his campaigning in the rural districts.

“But my idee fer the present ’uld be a still hunt. We can work up to the brass band and the red fire gradually, and wind up in a blaze o’ glory, after we get ’em on the run. See?”

“How much will all this cost?”

“Oh, well, now, that’s a question. Course, the boys ain’t in politics fer the’r health, an’ the more money we have the more——”