adly, "at the end is the greatest temptation of
all--the temptation that comes with power to get power for the sake of
power."

The next morning Amos Adams and Grant went in to Market Street to sell
their home. Grant seemed a stranger to that busy mart of trade: the week
of his absence had taken him so far from it. His eyes were caught by two
tall figures, a man and a woman, walking and talking as they crossed the
street--the man in a heavy, long, brown ulster, the woman in a flaring
red, outer garment. He recognized them as Margaret Fenn and Thomas Van
Dorn. They had met entirely by chance, and the meeting was one of
perhaps half a dozen chance meetings which they had enjoyed during the
winter, and these meetings were so entirely pleasurable that the man was
beginning rather vaguely to anticipate them--to hope for another meeting
after the last. Grant was in an exalted mood that morning, and the sight
of the two walking together struck him only as a symbol and epitome of
all that he was going into the world to fight--in the man intellect
without moral purpose, in the woman materialism, gross and carnal. The
Adamses went the rounds of the real estate dealers trying to sell their
home, and in following his vision Grant forgot the two tall figures in
the street.

But the two figures that had started Grant's reverie continued to
walk--perhaps a trifle slower than was the wont of either, down Market
Street. They walked slowly for two reasons: For her part, she wished to
make the most of a parade on Market Street with so grand a person as the
Judge of the District Court, and the town's most distinguished citizen;
and for his part, he dawdled because life was going slowly with him in
certain quarters: he felt the lack of adventure, and here--at least, she
was a stunning figure of a woman! "Yes," she said, "I heard about them.
Henry has just told me that Mr. Brotherton said the Adamses are going to
sell their home and give it to the miners' widows. Isn't it foolish?
It's all they've got in the world, too! Still, really nothing is strange
in that family. You know, I boarded with them one winter when I taught
the Prospect School. Henry says they want to do something for the
laboring people," she added naively.

As she spoke, the man's eyes wandered over her figure, across her face,
and were caught by her eyes that looked at him with something in them
entirely irrelevant to the subject that her lips were discussing. His
eyes c