No, _sir_! Couldn't git nothing out of 'em except some
more parrot-cackle: 'Vote same Petro. All a good Republican!' It's
enough to sicken a man!"
"Do we need his gang bad?" inquired the policeman deferentially.
"I need everybody bad! This is a good-sized job fer me, and I want to
do it right. Throwin' the precinck to Maxim is goin' to do me
_some_ wrong with the Republican crowd, even if they don't git on
that it was throwed; and I want to throw it _good_! I couldn't
feel like I'd done right if I didn't. I've give my word that they'll
git a majority of sixty-eight votes, and that'll be jest twicet as
much in my pocket as a plain majority. And I want them seven Dagoes!
I've give up on _votin_' 'em; it can't be done. It'd make a saint
cuss to try to reason with 'em, and it's no good. They can't be
fooled, neither. They know where the polls is, and they know how to
vote--blast the Australian ballot system! The most that can be done is
to keep 'em away from the polls."
"Can't you git 'em out of town in the morning?"
"D'you reckon I ain't tried that? _No_, sir! That Dago wouldn't
take a pass to _heaven_! Everything else is all right.
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