your
bunch of sympathizers into a working organization--in other words, into
a machine. Isn't that so, Professor Anners?"

The white-haired professor of palaeontology nodded sleepily. He had been
dreaming of the Megalosauridae, and had not heard the question.

"You've heard me called 'the boss' from the time Dick Gantry had his
first talk with you back yonder in Massachusetts," the senator went on,
turning again to his son. "Call me a man with friends enough to make me
a sort of foreman of round-ups in the old home State, and you've got it
about right. I don't say that I've always used the power as it ought to
be used; the good Lord knows, I'm no more infallible than other folks.
You've gone through a heap of trouble and worry because you thought,
when you got ready to knock the wedge out of the log, my fingers were
going to get caught in the split, along with a lot of others. That would
have been true enough any other year but this, I reckon, so you didn't
have your fight and your worry for nothing. I've bought and trafficked
and bargained and compromised--I don't deny that--but only when it
seemed as though the end justified the means. Maybe the end never does
justify the means--I'm open to conviction on that. But sometimes it's
mighty easy to persuade yourself that it does."

It was just here that the professor awoke with a start and a snort,
excused himself abruptly, and stumped off to bed. Mrs. Honoria, sitting
under the drop-light and stitching patiently at her bit of stretched
linen, laid the tiny embroidery-hoop aside, signalled to her husband,
and vanished in her turn. A few minutes after she had gone, the senator
crossed from his corner of the fireplace to stand before the two sitting
on the little sofa.

"Son," he said gravely, "you've got your work cut out for you from this
on, and it's a good-sized job. You're going to have a string of hard
fights, one after the other, and there'll be times when you'll long with
all your soul for some good, clean-hearted, bright-minded little girl to
go to for comfort and counsel. Of course, I know that Patricia, here,
has another job, but--"

The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush had been out of sight and hearing for
five full minutes when Evan Blount reached over and possessed himself of
the hand that was shading a pair of deep-welled eyes from the firelight.

"Last Sunday afternoon, Patricia, when I had right and reason and logic
on my side, your woman's intuition found