withdraw. Otherwise your profit will be
laughter and ridicule; for the Republican party can never hope to win
under such equivocal leadership. That's all we have to say."

Warrington, who had been reading the articles aloud, grinned and
thrust the paper into his pocket.

"What shall you do?" asked John curiously.

"Do? Go into the fight tooth and nail. They dub me a meddler; I'll
make the word good."

"Hurrah!" cried Kate, clapping her hands. She caught Patty in her
arms, and the two waltzed around the dock.

The two men shook hands, and presently all four were reading their
private letters. Warrington received but one. It was a brief note from
the senator. "Pay no attention to Times' story. Are you game for a
fight? Write me at once, and I'll start the campaign on the receipt of
your letter."

"Patty, where do you write letters?" he asked. He called her Patty
quite naturally. Patty was in no wise offended.

"In the reading-room you will find a desk with paper and pens and ink.
Shall I go with you?"

"Not at all. I've only a note to scribble to Senator Henderson."

Warrington found the desk. Upon it lay a tablet. He wrote hurriedly:

"Start your campaign; I am in it now to the last ditch."

As he re-read it, he observed a blur in the grain of the paper. On
closer inspection he saw that it was a water-mark. He had seen one
similar, but where? His heart began thumping his ribs. He produced the
inevitable letter. The water-mark was identical. He even laid the
letter unfolded on the tablet. It fitted exactly.

"Patty!" he murmured in a whisper.

Patty had never written him a single line; whenever she had
communicated to him her commands, it had been by telephone. Patty
Bennington! The window was at his elbow. He looked out and followed
the sky-line of the hills as they rolled away to the south. Patty! It
was a very beautiful world, and this was a day of days. It all came to
him in that moment of discovery. He had drifted along toward it quite
unconsciously, as a river might idle toward the sea. Patty! The light
of this knowledge was blinding for a space. So Warrington came into
his own romance. It was not the grand passion, which is always
meteoric; it was rather like a new star, radiant, peaceful, eternal.

"Patty!" He smiled.

Chapter X

It was only when the whistle of the returning boat sounded close by
that he realized he had been sitting there for nearly an hour. He
roused himself, sealed a