n they first met because it was so
perfect. John saw Brennan wink at him.

"How's this?" asked Gibson, seating himself at his desk, turning toward
the camera in his swivel chair and holding a sheet of letter paper as
though he had been disturbed by the photographer in the middle of the
reading of an important document.

"Fine, hold it," said the photographer. The flashlight boomed, sending a
puff of white smoke into the air.

"You had better take another, I blinked my eyes that time," said Gibson.

"Gotcha before you blinked," the photographer explained. "Now one
standing if you please, Mr. Gibson. Bend over a little. That's it,
clinch your fist and raise it up as though you were going to hit
someone. That's it. Fine, thank you."

The flashlight boomed again, filling the room with smoke.

"I dislike this business of posing for photographs," Gibson said. "I
suppose it has to be, though."

Brennan tipped another wink to John. This time John winked back.

On their way back to the office John asked Brennan what he thought of
Gibson and his statement.

"It's a story, a good one," said Brennan. "One of the kind that's always
good. Wealthy young reformer wants to clean up town. Out to clean up the
police department. It's always gone big since Roosevelt did it in New
York. Lot of bromides in the statement 'hew to the line and let the
chips fall where they may,' 'fair name of our great city being dragged
in the mire' and stuff like that, but it'll get over."

John was somewhat surprised by Brennan's way of answering.

"And what about Gibson?" he asked.

"Gibson may be sincere and he may not. He's either a comer or a sap. If
he means what he says and goes through with it, he'll have the whole
city behind him. If he's just doing a lot of grandstanding or if he's
playing someone's political game, that's another thing. Just remember
one thing, we may need it some time; remember what he said when I asked
him if he was out to be mayor!"

John was unwilling to take the skeptical attitude shown by the older
reporter.

"If he really has no idea of running for mayor, what else could cause
him to do what he says he will except a sincere desire to keep things
clean and straight?" he asked.

"Well," said Brennan, "some of them are out for glory and some of them
play a deeper game. Sometimes it's a girl."

John thought of Consuello.

"Maybe he's in love with fair Consuello," Brennan suggested, smiling.
"Wants to do somet