The San Francisco call., 1910-11-20
CHAPTER IV.-Continued

revolving chair and stared at the white
farther wall of the court. In the outer
Office he heard the clicking of type
writer. somewhere else the muf1ed
drone Of a voice debating to stenog-
rapher.
-seen the old man lately?" still
mans cooI voice came from afar to his
thoughts.
Never since he went up. He made
me promise never TO see him in the
pen"
"Franey was at san Quentin last
week. He said the old man was look
ing pretty worn and broken"
Arnold's thoughts went somberly
back TO his boyhood when the old
man" was putting in the great irriga-
tion works that ruined him in the
San Joaquin. Losing his mother in his
early DAYS, an only child. he had grown
up the chum Of SelGen Arnold, the dar-
ing operator in lands and development
schemes. Many the ride the small boy
had had across the California hills on
his fathers saddle horn while they
diverting dams and headgates built. And
"the old man" must be worn and
broken now-he was Il. and proud,
high fighter for San Quentin. Ham
had hoped and worked and intrigued
three years for the day when he should
free hfm-then they would go some
where and begin anew.
Wei. boy. what do YOU think of it?"
"Chatom can deliver the goOds?"
The police commissioner hand went
20 the desk telephone: Wen go see
him"
Never mind" muttered Arnold. 81
know he can-that's not bOthering me"
For Svlvia's face rose TO his moody
tms ginatiOn. he was her knight. with
out reproach. he had no past with her.
he was fair and stainless, and now he
would tell her this-yes. he should tell
her this,-an unconQuerable revolt
came 10 him when he whispered that
he need say nothing, he could marry
her and be silent. No. the papers would
have IT, they would hound him and
seer; they might even. after all, indict
him IN the jury room. and he would be
the storm center at once for mighty
struggle. for the old order was break
Ing. A district attorney in whom the
organization could not trust was in
Office and ambitious for a record.
And at once Sylvia, her gray eyes
filed with doubt. with trouble and
with pain. was before him; If he did
this act he was in the net-they had
him. he was again a rOunder OF the
tenderlOin. a story teller about the
bar rooms. an fdler on the street cor
ners at the fight clubs and at the
races; and when the time came he
again would do politics" for his mas
ter. taking the same brazen, defiant
chances. needing nothing. caring
nothing.
But there was Fred Weldy, who had
always been pretty straight. and his
''old man." who had suffered overmuch
from his dogged enemies.
Arnold wheeled and faced Stillman
'When's this 70 be done?'
This afternoon"
"WhatT
TN see that you're summoned
have information Of every move they
make. Our men IN the grand Jury
room are standing pat want you to
so before them at o'clock this after
noon and swear that you were the
oflcisl IN the registrars Office on
August the eth last, who swore in the
p voters they aIlege in their complaint
TO be fraudulentiy entered"
The young man looked ettentively at
the politician, who smiled, with a hand
upraised at the door, and said: NOW.
don't mix IN that push at the city hall,
and don't mind the papers and the
threats and the roars. I'll put every
thing behind you, now@the big men,
the rnoneyed interests, the railroad that
wants Chatom IN the senate and can't
AFFORD 90 lose Weldy IN the next legis-
lRture-I can put the whole damned
system from here 70 Wall Street be-
hind you Stand right. and there's
nothing can break your
Arnold nodded and left with q smile.
On the street corner without, IN the
sunshine and the rushing life, he
paused. his lips gray. twttching, and
tore open an envelope he took from
HIS pocket. II was a warrant for $16s
for his months Services to the peo-
pie of the state OF California as a SEN
ate clerk. He smiled again over the
paper.
only q little,~ he muttered, "just s
little steal" He looked up at the sunny
sky; the town seemed tanned and dull
the buoyant morning gone. We'll" he
murmured again, in sort OF patient
relief, Il guess It's best don't love
her-it's been fine this morning, but
after all, I don't love her. This lets
her out. Edith's right and NeTs right
I'll buck Il through for Fred and the
old man-but, oh, little girl"
Sylvia met him IN the parlors OF the
great store They boarded a car for
the Cliff, and he was quiet and gentle
even more than she had ever seen him
She was radiant in the cheerful day;
pretty, gracious, pleased with the way
she had seemed to compromise with
this large. new life. A resolve TO be
tolerant Of everything and every one
70 see to know, to live to the full, to
be the woman-came to her. In the
crowded store parlor she had uttered
p prayer, as she listened to the clangor
and now a wonderful happiness had
enveloped her. Everything would be
right now. She had given herself tc
this man and his life; she would glorify
both with her love.
They walked along the sands below
the Cliff. looking at the illimitable
Pacific. the flick Of sail in the blue
the sun warming the fresh wind-whC
couldn't be happy on such morning
Presently Arnold smiled down at hel
ingenious chatter He packed the dry
sand IN a heap for her 20 sit on, anC
sat by her holding her hand, regardless
Of the people summing themselves about
I never saw the ocean but once be.
fore, and that was when I came dowT
from Humboldt And when we rode
over the long trail on the ridge back o.
Little river. Louisville showed IL to n'
just a tiny blue over the great red
woods miles away. Oh it was beautiful
and. I thought of youi You didn''
come to Trinity by the coast, did you
You don't know how black the slashin,
frar he grac oaI bovr hior 4l,.