te to say you have gone. He will understand. It will be
easier for both that way--easier for him, easier for you." She paused,
looking at him appealingly as she ended very softly, "And easier for
me, Mr. Haines."

He looked at her thoughtfully.

"Easier for you?" he said. "Very well, I'll do it that way."

The secretary stepped slowly to his desk, sat down and started to
write the note. Carolina watched him curiously.

"What will you do," she asked, "now that you have given up this
position?"

"Oh, I can always go back to newspaper work," he answered without
looking up.

The term "newspaper work" gave Carolina a shock. She had forgotten
that this man had been a reporter. Here he was turned loose with the
knowledge of this "deal," which she knew would be popular material for
newspapers to print. She must gain still another point, and she felt
that she had enough power to win against him.

"I'm going to ask you still another favor," she said.

Bud returned her look with a bitter smile.

"What is it?"

"You have learned about this--this land matter and--"

"Oh, yes! I can guess. You want me to keep quiet about it--to hush it
up," a shade of scorn in his tone.

"I only asked this so that you would not disgrace me," she pleaded.

Disillusioned at last, robbed of his lifelong optimism, shorn of
his ideals, even his love--for he began to despise this beautiful,
misguided woman--Haines sat broken in spirit, thinking how quickly the
brightness of life fades to blackness.

"Very well," he said sadly. "I suppose _you_ are innocent. I'll save
you. If they're all--your father, too--crooked, why shouldn't I be
crooked? All right; I won't say anything."

"I only ask you not to disgrace me," pleaded the girl. "You will
promise that?"

"It's a promise."

She sighed in relief.

"Father will be coming back soon," she said. "You won't want to see
him."

Haines arose.

"No, I won't want to see him. Give him this note. I'll have to come
back while he's away to clear up some things. Good-by."

Haines bowed and hurried from the room through a side doorway just as
Senator Langdon came in through the main entrance.

"Bud! Bud!" he called, but the secretary did not halt.

Carolina Langdon stood with Haines' note in her hand, wondering at
what she had done. She regretted having become entangled in the wars
of men in Washington. She saw that the man's game was played too
strongly, too furiously fast, for most women t