ing to party lines, and thought they had done
well; the surface of things was nicely slicked over.

He understood that out of the ease with which the mob could be herded,
with others doing their thinking for them, had grown politics as a
business--with the big interests dominating both parties--and no one
realized how it had all come about better than Converse. This new
spirit, however, rather surprised him, for he had been keeping aloof
from politics. These men who crowded about him were not mere dumb,
driven voters in the mass--they were individuals who were thinking, who
were demanding, who were seeking a leader that would consider them as
citizens to be served, not chattels to be sold to the highest bidder.
His keen lawyer's insight understood all this!

"I'm a butcher down in the stock-yards, Mr. Converse," said one man,
who pressed forward. "We've got trained bulls there who tole the cattle
along into the slaughter-pens. I've got tired of being a steer in
politics and following these old trained bulls."

Converse worked his way through the press to the door, Farr at his
heels.

When they were on the street the honorable gentleman turned sharply
toward the Boulevard.

"I haven't any spirit or taste to-night for moonlight in the park, sir!
A nice trick you played on me."

"I wanted you to get a first-hand notion of a state of affairs, Mr.
Converse."

"But you ought to understand my temperament better--you ought to know
it's going to stick in my mind, worry me, vex me, set me to seeking for
remedies. It's just as if I'd been retained on a case. I feel almost
duty-bound to pitch in."

"It's strange how a man gets pulled into a thing sometimes--into
something he had no idea of meddling with," philosophized Farr, blandly.
"That's the way it has happened in my case."

"It has, eh?" demanded Mr. Converse, sharply. He had tacitly accepted
the young man's companionship for the walk back to the Boulevard. "Now,
look here! Just who are you?"

"My name is Farr and I'm nothing."

"You needn't bluff me--you're a politician--a candidate for something."

"I'm not even a voter in this state. It's men like you, sir, who ought
to be candidates for the high offices."

"My sainted father trained me to respect self-sacrifice, Mr. Farr. But
for a clean man to try to accomplish things for the people in politics
these days isn't self-sacrifice--it's martyrdom. The cheap politicians
heap the fagots, the sneering newspapers