mly interested in the election of Robert Laird to the
mayoralty, partly because she knew him personally, partly because the
younger element of society had rather "gone in for politics" that year,
on the reform side. Banneker had to admit to her, as the day drew close,
that the issue was doubtful. Though The Patriot's fervid support had
been a great asset to the cause, it was now, for the moment, a liability
to the extent that it was being fiercely denounced in the Socialist
organ, The Summons, as treasonable to the interests of the
working-classes. The Summons charged hypocrisy, citing the case of the
Veridian strike.

"That is McClintick?" asked Io.

"He's back of it, naturally. But The Summons has been waiting its
chance. Jealous of our influence in the field it's trying to cultivate."

"McClintick is right," remarked Io thoughtfully.

Banneker laughed. "Oh, Io! It's such a relief to get a clear view and an
honest one from some one else. There's no one in the office except
Russell Edmonds, and he's away now.... You think McClintick is right? So
do I."

"But so are you. You had to do as you did about the story. If any one is
to blame, it is Mr. Marrineal. Yet how can one blame him? He had to
protect his mother. It's a fearfully complicated phenomenon, a
newspaper, isn't it, Ban?"

"Io, the soul of man is simple and clear compared with the soul of a
newspaper."

"If it has a soul."

"Of course it has. It's got to have. Otherwise what is it but a
machine?"

"Which is The Patriot's; yours or Mr. Marrineal's? I can't," said Io
quaintly, "quite see them coalescing."

"I wonder if Marrineal has a soul," mused Banneker.

"If he hasn't one of his own, let him keep his hands off yours!" said Io
in a flash of feminine jealousy. "He's done enough already with his
wretched mills. What shall you do about the attack in The Summons?"

"Ignore it. It would be difficult to answer. Besides, people easily
forget."

"A dangerous creed, Ban. And a cynical one. I don't want you to be
cynical."

"I never shall be again, unless--"

"Unless?" she prompted.

"It rests with you, Io," he said quietly.

At once she took flight. "Am I to be keeper of your spirit?" she
protested. "It's bad enough to be your professional adviser. Why don't
you invite a crowd of us down to get the election returns?" she
suggested.

"Make up your party," assented Banneker. "Keep it small; say a dozen,
and we can use my office."

On the fatef