s the Windhams' guest at their new home on Powell street
overlooking the bay when Benito's clerk brought them news of
the election.

"Every reform candidate wins by a landslide," cried the youth
enthusiastically. "I cast my first vote today, Mr. Windham," he said
proudly, "and I'm glad to know that the ballot-box had no false bottom."
He turned to Broderick. "Your men fared mighty well too, sir,
considering--" He paused and reddened, but the politician clapped him,
laughing, on the shoulder. "That's right, my boy. Be honest,"
he declared.

"It means you'll be our Senator next year," the lad said staunchly,
holding out his hand. "They're all saying so down town. Allow me to
congratulate you, sir."

The keen, half-smiling eyes of Broderick took stock of Herbert Waters.
Tall, shy and awkward, with a countenance fresh, unmarked, but eager and
alert with clean ideals.

"Thank you, son," he pressed the lad's hand vigorously. "Perhaps ... if
I should get to Washington, there'll be a place for you. You'll like it,
wouldn't you? To see a little of the world?"

"Would I?" cried the youth, delighted. "Try me." He departed, treading
on air. Alice Windham shook a finger at her guest. "Dave, you mustn't
trifle with our little protege.... But you did it charmingly. Tell me,
will you have to go about now, kissing babies and all that sort
of thing?"

"No doubt," he answered gaily. "So I'll practice on your little Bob." He
caught the child up in his arms. "Got a kiss for Uncle Dave?" he asked.

Robert's response was instant and vehement. Laughing, Broderick took
from an inner pocket a long and slender parcel, which he unwrapped with
tantalizing slowness. It revealed at last a gaily painted
monkey-on-a-stick which clambered up and down with marvelous agility
when Broderick pulled a string.

"This, my little man," he said half soberly, "is how we play the game of
politics." He made the jointed figure race from top to bottom while his
eyes were rather grim. "Here, you try it, Bobbie," he said. "I've played
with it long enough."

Broderick came to them aglow with triumph. He was a big man now, a
national figure. Only a short time ago he had been a discredited boss of
municipal politics. Now he was going to Washington. He had made William
Gwin, the magnificent, do homage. He had all of the federal patronage
for California. For years it had gone to Southern men. San Francisco's
governmental offices had long been known as "The Virgi