d his crew are out
for the coin. I'll tell you something else you mustn't print, your paper
is determined to expose Ruef. The managing editor is on his way to
Washington to confer with President Roosevelt.... The plan is to borrow
Francis Heney and William J. Burns."

"What? The pair that has been exposing Senators and land frauds up in
Oregon?"

His father nodded. "Phew!" The young man whistled. "You were right when
you predicted that there was a shakeup coming."

* * * * *

Frank, expecting startling things to happen, kept his mind alert. But
the months passed uneventfully. The editor returned from Washington. No
sensational announcement followed the event. Later it was rumored that
Burns had sent operatives to the city. They were gathering evidence, one
understood, but if they did, naught seemed to come of it. Frank was
vaguely disappointed. Now and then he saw Aleta, but the subject of
their former talk was not resumed. Vaguely he wondered what manner of
man was her beloved.

Frank resented the idea that he was above her. Aleta was good enough
for any man.

Bertha was visiting her aunt's home in the East. She had been very
restless and capricious just before she went. All women were thus, he
supposed. But he missed her.

CHAPTER LXXVIII

THE FATEFUL MORN

On the evening of April 17, 1906, Frank and Bertha, who had recently
returned, attended the opera. The great Caruso, whose tenor voice had
taken the East by storm, and whose salary was reputed to be fabulous,
had come at last to San Francisco. Fremsted, almost equally famous, was
singing with him in "Carmen" at the Grand Opera House. All the town
turned out in broadcloth, diamonds, silks and decollete to hear them--a
younger generation of San Franciscans assuming a bit uncomfortably that
social importance which had not yet become genealogically sure
of itself.

Frank and Bertha drove down in the electric brougham, for which they had
with difficulty found a place along the vehicle-lined curb of Mission
street. And, as they were early, they halted in the immense and
handsome, though old-fashioned, foyer to observe the crowd. The air was
heavy with perfume.

"Look at that haughty dame with a hundred-thousand dollar necklace," he
smiled. "One would have thought her father was at least a king. Forty
years ago he drove a dray.... And that one with the ermine coat and
priceless tiara. Wouldn't you take her for a princess?