under
both heels. They know what I know, and what you'll know before you get
through, that the only fun in life is to be got out of power and money."

The face as sharp as a razor but by no means dishonest rose before
Gwynne. He had been a very decent little chap, and in the two days they
had travelled together he had displayed a photograph of his wife and
"kids," to whom he seemed even sentimentally devoted. Although Gwynne
had parted from the man with satisfaction it was impossible to despise
him utterly. Since then he had met many of his kind, more or less
honest, able, pettily ambitious, fairly educated, unlearned on every
subject except politics and the general business of the country; and all
equally unsympathetic. He made no pretence to judge the country on its
social or intellectual side, for he had been forced to avoid all groups
that might have enlightened him--although he found no difficulty in
assuming that well-bred and intellectual people were much the same the
world over, and was willing to give the United States the benefit of
every doubt. But its obvious side was the one that concerned him and his
career. In order to succeed--and without success life would mean less
than nothing to him--must he in a measure conform to conditions that
were the result of a century of complexities? He recurred to the dry
biographical sketches he had received, from certain of his travelling
companions, of the most distinguished--and successful!--men in American
politics to-day. Their ideals and their zeal for reform had played
between horizon and zenith like a flaming sword, so compelling the
attention of all that would pause to look that the diminishing
effulgence had been even more conspicuous; and now, although the sword
was occasionally brandished for form's sake, and was even sharper than
before, having learned to cut both ways, it had the rust of tin not of
blood on it, and deceived no one. But it had served its purpose--if to
be sure it had been needed at all--and its owners were past-masters of
success. Had he in him the makings of the mere trimmer and politician,
in addition to the miserable vanity that had riven him to-day? And would
some measure of great success won on those lines stir the dormant
greatness in him?--if there were any greatness to stir. This was the
fearful doubt, after all, that beset him. He almost saw with his outer
vision his ideals lying in a tumbled heap, as he felt himself on the
point of