himself! I suspect he has ambitions. So
much the worse for him, if James Murdock is in the ring against him. Do
you know my inferences? I am sure he is not one of the invulnerables.
The fact that he made a concession to Barry gives him away. He didn't
need to. If Barry can work him by a little flattery and an appeal to
their shoddy friendship, he's not one of your out-and-out,
no-compromise, reform-or-die fellows. Say, Early, you know him well.
Can't you get at him?"

Mr. Early gave one of those roundabout motions that suggest a desire to
wriggle out of the whole matter, and answered slowly:

"I shouldn't wonder if the entire business petered out, anyway. It's
almost a year to the next election, and Percival is going to be married
in a few weeks to a pretty little girl, who would never stir a man's
ambitions to anything more than a smart carriage and pair. He's turned
idiotic about her, and let's hope he'll stay so. Just at present I don't
believe all the boodle and graft in the world would turn a hair on him.
Love and politics, my boy, are no more congenial than water and
oil--especially if the politics is rancid."

"We'll have to go into partnership with the lady to keep him down," said
Murdock with a grin. "I've formed more unlikely alliances than that in
my time. Why, good Lord! what's that?" he exclaimed for the second time
that night.

His eyes had fallen upon a tall white column at the back of the room,
and at his words the column moved forward and displayed the flowing
robes, the snowy white turban, the gleaming ruby of Ram Juna.

"Pardon my interruption," said the Hindu courteously. "I have been out.
I am but just returned. And I come to assure myself that all is well
with my admirable host."

"Ah, Murdock, this is my friend, the Swami. He's going to stay with me
while he writes a book. I've given him the west ell, off in the quiet of
the garden, you know," said Mr. Early.

"With kindness you give it. Obligation is mine," said the Swami, with a
deferential movement of his hands. "And I go at once to devote myself to
my greatest work. But now I have visited a lady, Mrs. Appleton, who has
great interest in me, and who desires to form what she calls a class. I
call it, rather, a circle of my friends."

"And what do you do with them?" asked Mr. Murdock, with the same bald
curiosity that one displays at the zoo before the performing seals.

"We increase the sum of nobility in the world," said the Swami sof