ffair is not merely a battle
that was to-day won and ended! It's a war--and I have just begun to
fight!"

And sweeping quickly past him, she walked on into Main Street and down
it through the staring crowds--very erect, a red spot in either cheek,
her eyes defiantly meeting every eye.

CHAPTER XII

OPPORTUNITY KNOCKS AT BRUCE'S DOOR

On the following morning Bruce had just finished an editorial on
Doctor West's trial, and was busily thumping out an editorial on the
local political situation--the Republican and Democratic conventions
were both but a few days off--when, lifting his scowling gaze to his
window while searching for the particular word he needed, he saw
Katherine passing along the sidewalk across the street. Her face was
fresh, her step springy; hers was any but a downcast figure.
Forgetting his editorial, he watched her turn the corner of the Square
and go up the broad, worn steps of the dingy old county jail.

"Well, what do we think of her?" queried a voice at his elbow.

Bruce turned abruptly.

"Oh, it's you, Billy. D'you see Blake?"

"Yes." The young fellow sank loungingly into the atlas-seated chair.
"He wouldn't say anything definite. Said it was up to the convention
to pick the candidates. But it's plain Kennedy's his choice for
mayor, and we'll be playing perfectly safe in predicting Kennedy's
nomination."

"And Peck?"

"Blind Charlie said it was too early to make any forecasts. In doubt
as to whom they'd put forward for mayor."

"Would Blake say anything about Doctor West's conviction?"

"Sorry for Doctor West's sake--but the case was clear--trial fair--a
wholesome example to the city--and some more of that line of talk."

Bruce grunted.

The reporter leisurely lit a cigarette.

"But how about the lady lawyer, eh?" He playfully prodded his
superior's calf with his pointed shoe. "I suppose you'll fire me off
your rotten old sheet for saying it, but I still think she made a
damned good showing considering that she had no case--and considering
also that she was a woman." Again he thrust his toe into his chief.
"Considering she was a woman--eh, Arn?"

"Shut up, Billy, or I _will_ fire you," growled Bruce.

"Oh, all right," answered the other cheerfully. "After half a year of
the nerve-racking social whirl of this metropolis, I think it would be
sort of restful to be back in dear, little, quiet Chicago. But
seriously now, Arn, you've got to admit she's good-looking?"

"Go