uckle climbed the
pillars and lattices of the patio; lupin and golden poppies dotted the
hillsides. Cloud-plumes waved across the faultless azure of a California
summer sky and distant to the north and east, a million spangled flecks
of sunlight danced upon the bay.

David Broderick sat on a rustic bench, his eyes on Alice Windham. He
thought, with a vague stirring of unrecognized emotion that she seemed
the spirit of womanhood in the body of a fay.

"A flower for your thoughts," she paraphrased and tossed him a rose.
Instinctively he pressed it to his lips. He saw her color rise and
turned away. For a moment neither spoke.

"My thoughts," he said at length, "have been of evil men and trickery
and ambition. I realize that, always, when I come here--when I see you,
Alice Windham. For a little time I am uplifted. Then I go back to my
devious toiling in the dark."

A shadow crossed her eyes, but a smile quickly chased it away. "You are
a fine man, David Broderick," she said, "brave and wonderful and strong.
Why do you stoop to--"

"To petty politics?" his answering smile was rueful. "Because I must--to
gain my ends. To climb a hill-top often one must go into a valley.
That is life."

"No, that is sophistry," her clear, straight glance was on him
searchingly. "You tell me that a statesman must be first a politician;
that a politician must consort with rowdies, ballot-box stuffers,
gamblers--even thieves. David Broderick, you're wrong. Women have their
intuitions which are often truer than men's logic." She leaned forward,
laid a hand half shyly on his arm. "I know this much, my friend: As
surely as you climb your ladder with the help of evil forces, just so
surely will they pull you down."

It was thus that Benito came upon them. "Scolding Dave again?" He
questioned merrily, "What has our Lieutenant-Governor been doing now?"

"Consorting with rowdies, gamblers, ballot-box stuffers--not to mention
thieves, 'twould seem," said Broderick with a forced laugh. Alice
Windham's eyes looked hurt. "He has accused himself," she said
with haste.

"You're always your own worst critic, Dave," Benito said. "I want to
tell you something: The Vigilance Committee forms this afternoon."

The other's eyes flashed. "What is that to me?" he asked, with some
asperity.

"Only this," retorted Windham. "The committee means business; it's going
to clean up the town--" Broderick made as if to speak but checked his
utterance. Benito wen