ace a letter in New
York would be as impracticable as subtracting gold from sea-water. It
was a tantalizing mystery, and it bothered him more than he liked to
confess. He put the letter in his wallet, and went into the
sewing-room, where his aunt was knitting. The dear old lady smiled at
him.

"Aunty, I've got a secret to tell you."

"What is it, Richard?"

"I'm going to run for mayor."

The old lady dropped her work and held up her hands in horror.

"You are fooling, Richard!"

"I am very serious, Aunty."

"But politicians are such scamps, Richard."

"Somebody's got to reform them."

"But they'll reform you into one of their kind. You don't mean it!"

"Yes, I do. I've promised, and I can't back down now."

"No good will come of it," said the old lady prophetically, reaching
down for her work. "But if you are determined, I suppose it's no use
for me to talk. What will the Benningtons say?"

"They rather approve of the idea. I'm going up there early to-morrow.
I'll be up before you're down. Good night." He lightly kissed the
wrinkled face.

"Have a good time, Richard; and God bless my boy."

He paused on the threshold and came back. Why, he did not know. But
having come back, he kissed her once again, his hands on her cheeks.
There were tears in her eyes.

"You're so kind and good to an old woman, Richard."

"Pshaw! there's nobody your equal in all the world. Good night;" and
he stepped out into the hall.

The next morning he left town for the Benningtons' bungalow in the
Adirondacks. He carried his fishing-rods, for Patty had told him that
their lake was alive with black bass. Warrington was an ardent angler.
Rain might deluge him, the sun scorch, but he would sit in a boat all
day for a possible strike. He arrived at two in the afternoon, and
found John, Kate and Patty at the village station. A buckboard took
them into the heart of the forest, and the penetrating, resinous
perfumes tingled Warrington's nostrils. He had been in the woods in
years gone by; not a tree or a shrub that he did not know. It was
nearly a two hours' drive to the lake, which was circled by lordly
mountains.

"Isn't it beautiful?" asked Patty, with a kind of proprietary pride.

"It is as fine as anything in the Alps," Warrington admitted. "Shall
we go a-fishing in the morning?"

"If you can get up early enough."

"Trust me!" enthusiastically.

"I netted one this morning that weighed three pounds."

"Fish grow more