The contractor went away and for a few days after the streets were really clean, but it was only for a few days.

In his walks about the city the mayor himself found garbage and paper uncollected, and then called upon his new acquaintance again.

“I’m mentioning this for the last time, Mr. M——­,” he said.  “You will have to fulfill your contract, or resign in favor of some one who will.”

“Oh, I’ll clean them, well enough,” said this individual, after five minutes of rapid fire explanation.  “Two dollars a day for men is high, but I’ll see that they’re clean.”

Again he went away, and again the mayor sauntered about, and then one morning sought out the contractor in his own office.

“This is the end,” he said, removing a cigar from his mouth and holding it before him with his elbow at right angles.  “You are discharged from this work.  I’ll notify you officially to-morrow.”

“It can’t be done the way you want it,” the contractor exclaimed with an oath.  “There’s no money in it at two dollars.  Hell, anybody can see that.”

“Very well,” said the mayor in a kindly well-modulated tone.  “Let another man try, then.”

The next day he appointed a new contractor, and with a schedule before him showing how many men should be employed and how much profit he might expect, the latter succeeded.  The garbage was daily removed, and the streets carefully cleaned.

Then there was a new manual training school about to be added to the public school system at this time, and the contract for building was to be let, when the mayor threw a bomb into the midst of the old-time jobbers at the city council.  A contractor had already been chosen by them and the members were figuring out their profits, when at one of the public discussions of the subject the mayor said: 

“Why shouldn’t the city build it, gentlemen?”

“How can it?” exclaimed the councilmen.  “The city isn’t an individual; it can’t watch carefully.”

“It can hire its own architect, as well as any contractor.  Let’s try it.”

There were sullen tempers in the council chamber after this, but the mayor was insistent.  He called an architect who made a ridiculously low estimate.  Never had a public building been estimated so cheaply before.

“See here,” said one of the councilmen when the plans were presented to the chamber—­“This isn’t doing this city right, and the gentlemen of the council ought to put their feet down on any such venture as this.  You’re going to waste the city’s money on some cheap thing in order to catch votes.”

“I’ll publish the cost of the goods as delivered,” said the mayor.  “Then the people can look at the building when it’s built.  We’ll see how cheap it looks then.”

To head off political trickery on the part of the enemy he secured bills for material as delivered, and publicly compared them with prices paid for similar amounts of the same material used in other buildings.  So the public was kept aware of what was going on and the cry of cheapness for political purposes set at naught.  It was the first public structure erected by the city, and by all means the cheapest and best of all the city’s buildings.