unlike anything Bradley had ever heard. "You imagine these men honest.
You say 'they differ from me' honestly. But I know there is no question
of principle in their action. They simply say No. 1 first, party next,
and principle last of all. I remember how awe-struck I was during my
first term. Now, don't waste any nervous energy on admiring these men
or standing in awe of them. Jump right in and take care of yourself.
Vote for party, but make arrangements before you vote--no; I forgot.
You stand for a real principle, and success may lie for you in standing
by it. Yes, on the whole, I believe I would stand by principle; it will
bring you out in greater relief from the rest of them, and then the
people may begin to think. I doubt it, however."

"You are a pessimist, then," said Bradley, feeling that there was an
undercurrent of dark philosophy in Cargill's voice.

"I am. The whole damned thing is a botch, in my opinion. You may find
it different," he said, with a mocking gleam in his eyes as he rose and
walked away. Bradley did not believe the man meant half he said, and
yet his bitterness had thrown a sombre shadow over his heart. The vista
ahead was not quite so bright as it had been except where Miss Wilbur
seemed to walk. He longed to go out and find her, and tried to content
himself with walking up and down the street, which seemed incredibly
brilliant with its lighted windows and streams of gay young people
coming and going.

At last he came to a corner where he saw the name of her street upon
the lamp post, and the hunger to see her was irresistible. He rushed up
the street with desperate haste. He wished he had started sooner. It
was eight o'clock and there was danger that she might be gone out. The
electric cars hardly diverted him as they came floating weirdly down
the line--the trolley invisible, the wheels emitting green sheets of
light at the crossings.

The street grew more quiet as it climbed the hill, and at last became
quite like Rock River, with its rows of small wooden houses on each
side of the maple-lined streets, through which the keen wind went
hissing. The stars glittered through the clear cold air like crystals
of green and gold and white fire. As he walked along, his newly
acquired honors fell away from him, together with his war for the
grange, and his ambitious plans displayed their warmer side. He began
to feel that all he was and was to do must be shared with a woman in
order that he cou