twisted and pulled out of shape by use, he would pull it low over
his dull gray eyes and amble forth. In summer his clothes looked
as crinkled as though he had slept in them for weeks. He smoked.
In cast of countenance he was not wholly unlike General Grant,
with a short gray beard and mustache which always seemed more or
less unkempt and hair that hung down over his forehead in a gray
mass. The poor General! He was neither very happy nor very unhappy
--a doubting Thomas without faith or hope in humanity and without
any particular affection for anybody.

"I'll tell you how it is with these small councils, Mr. Cowperwood,"
observed Van Sickle, sagely, after the preliminaries of the first
interview had been dispensed with.

"They're worse than the city council almost, and that's about as
bad as it can be. You can't do anything without money where these
little fellows are concerned. I don't like to be too hard on men,
but these fellows--" He shook his head.

"I understand," commented Cowperwood. "They're not very pleasing,
even after you make all allowances."

"Most of them," went on the General, "won't stay put when you think
you have them. They sell out. They're just as apt as not to run
to this North Side Gas Company and tell them all about the whole
thing before you get well under way. Then you have to pay them
more money, rival bills will be introduced, and all that." The old
General pulled a long face. "Still, there are one or two of them
that are all right," he added, "if you can once get them interested
--Mr. Duniway and Mr. Gerecht."