ee Buckley.... He has all the judges under his thumb. Pay him what he
asks. We must have a settlement at once."

Francisco put back the receiver. So Buckley controlled the courts as
well. He would be difficult to expose. The little plan for getting
evidence with Robert's aid did not appear so simple now.

Francisco waited half an hour longer, fidgeting about the office. Then
he decided that Robert had gone for the day and went out. At the corner
of Powell street he bumped rather unceremoniously into a tall figure,
top-hatted, long-coated, carrying a stick.

"I beg your pardon," he apologized. "Oh--why it's Mr. Pickering."

"Where are you bound so--impetuously?"

"Home," smiled Stanley. "Jeanne and I are going to the show tonight." He
was about to pass on when a thought struck him. "Got a minute to spare,
Mr. Pickering?"

"Always to you, my boy," returned the editor of the Bulletin, with his
old-fashioned courtesy.

[Illustration: "My boy ... you're wasting your time as a reporter.
Listen," he laid a hand upon Francisco's knee. "I've a job for you....
The new Mayor will need a secretary."]

"Then, come into the Baldwin Cafe.... I want to tell you something."

In an unoccupied corner, over a couple of glasses, Francisco unfolded
his plan. He was somewhat abashed by Pickering's expression. "Very
clever, Stanley ... but quite useless. It's been tried before. You'd
better have taken the job, accumulated evidence; then turned it over to
us. That would be the way to trap him ... but it's probably too late.
Ten to one his sleuth has seen us together. Buckley's very--bright,
you know."

He put a hand kindly on the crestfallen young man's shoulder.... "Go
back tomorrow and see if he'll make you secretary to the Mayor. Then get
all the 'extras' you can. Label each and bring it to me. I'll see that
you're not misunderstood." He rose. "But I fear Buckley will withdraw
his offer ... if so, we'll print the story of his Platt's Hall
gambling house."

CHAPTER LXXII

FATE TAKES A HAND

Francisco found that Pickering's prophecy had been a true one. On a
subsequent visit to the Bush street saloon he found the Blind Boss
unapproachable. After waiting almost an hour and seeing several men who
had come after him, led to the rear room for a conference, word was
brought him by the little, keen-eyed man that the position of Mayor's
secretary was already filled. He was exceedingly polite, expressing "Mr.
Buckley's deep regret