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"Seventy per cent of Dewey's activities are in behalf of Big Business," roared the President of the Electrical Workers. Tammany, First hint of politics entered the Dewey investigation last week when, in questioning prospective jurors, Mr. Dewey announced that James J. Hines, most famed and influential of Tammany district leaders, would be mentioned during the trial. Hines' friends were warned off the jury. Also last week City Commissioner of Markets William Fellowes Morgan Jr. publicly asserted that potential witnesses to food racketeering were withholding information from Prosecutor Dewey because racketeers had threatened revenge "when Tammany gets back" in next year's Mayoral election. Super~Mob, After 19 months of grueling public service at a district attorney's salary of $16,695 per year, young Thomas Dewey longs to get back to his private practice, to making more money for his wife and two small sons, to leisure for sailing a yawl again on Long Island Sound. But he intends to see his job through. Last week he was only in midcourse, with many a suspicion still to be confirmed, many a yet undisclosed racket and racketeer still to be struck down. To him, his job meant even more than a chance to rid the nation's biggest city of its outlaw parasites. He has long since been convinced that what thriller-writers are scoffed at for imagining is substantially true of racketeering—the whole U. S. is victimized by a supermob, loosely knit but internally harmonious and cooperative. From the outset he has hoped that capture of Manhattan bosses might lead to allies elsewhere, that other cities might be spurred to action by his example. Already other public prosecutors have asked his advice. If his crusade fulfills the promise of its first 18 months, no U. S. city can remain unconvinced that it need tolerate rackets no longer than it wants to.