a certain phrase that great man had used when he came in his
own automobile to bear the young pastor to the new field of his labors.

"We want you, Mr. Stillwell," he had said, "because we believe you to be
a safe and sane man, one who will not be swept off his feet by wild-eyed
reformers and the anarchistic tendencies of the times."

Mr. Stillwell, therefore, knew why he was wanted in Chicago. The
knowledge made him cautious in all things. He thought Senator Barker's
question over carefully. Then he nodded calmly.

"Why, yes, Senator," he answered. "One could hardly avoid reading it."

"Well, what about it?"

"Just what do you mean, Senator?"

"You know. What do you think of it, eh?"

"It seems to me," purred the Rev. Wallace Stillwell, "that the whole
exploit is worse than fantastic. It is hardly in good taste.
Investigations of the kind this girl has undertaken ought to be left to
the men."

"That's all right," put in the Senator, gloomily, "but I've noticed
lately that the women don't seem to be willing to do that. They want to
take a hand in such matters themselves." He leaned back in his chair
sadly. "It certainly makes it hard for us politicians."

* * * * *

A woman of ample girth and a handmade complexion pushed her coffee cup
away and lighted a fresh cigarette. She had just finished reading Mary
Randall's manifesto. Nature had made her beautiful, but advancing years
and too much art had all but destroyed Nature's handicraft. She inhaled
the acrid smoke deeply and then raising her voice, called:

"Celeste! You, Celeste!"

A mulatto girl threw open the door, crying:

"Yes, madame?"

"What you doing?"

"Cleaning up."

"Get a bottle of wine. Or did those high rollers guzzle it all last
night, the drunken beasts?"

"No, madame. I've saved one for you." She opened the bottle and placed
the effervescent liquid before her mistress.

"All right, Celeste. Anybody up yet?"

"I hardly think so, madame."

"Well, I'm up and I wish I wasn't," announced a girl who appeared at that
moment coming down the broad staircase. She entered the room.

"Got a head this morning, eh, Nellie?" said the madame, knowingly.

"Yes, I've got a head," replied Nellie sullenly, "and a grouch."

"Make it two, Celeste," said the madame promptly, indicating the bottle.
The colored maid poured out another glass of the liquor. Madame threw the
paper across the table to the girl.