complish anything worth
while. He joined the organization of the local Democracy in his
district and went to work.

It happened that he joined just before an exciting municipal election.
He threw himself into the campaign with the zeal of a crusader. The
people who crowded to hear him were not merely thrilled by the
eloquence of his impassioned speeches--they felt instinctively that the
heart of a real man was beating back of every word.

His advancement was remarkable. At the end of four years he was
nominated for District Attorney, and was swept into office by a large
majority.

Under his vigorous administration of this important and powerful office
the enforcement of justice ceased to be a joke and became a living
faith.

His work had stirred the State to a nobler and cleaner civic life.
During the past year he had become one of the foremost figures in
American Democracy--the best loved and the most hated and feared man in
public life in New York.

He remained alike indifferent to the cheers of his friends or the
threats of his enemies. He was the most powerful man who had ever held
such an office because he had no ambition beyond the highest service he
could render the people. He asked no favours--he sought no preferment.

To the men who secured his nomination and election he was an insolvable
mystery. He said he wanted nothing. They had taken that as a wise
saying of a very shrewd man. When he accepted the nomination, they
smiled knowingly. But when they demanded that he use his high office to
punish enemies and reward friends--and he politely refused--they served
notice on him of political death unless he yielded within a given
number of hours.

His answer was a laugh as he opened the door and pointed the way by
which the astonished delegation might find a safe and swift way of
exit. They passed out in speechless astonishment, and sent their big
chief to browbeat and bully the young upstart into submission. The
incredible swiftness with which he returned left the question open as
to how he got out of the District Attorney's office. He claimed to have
bowed himself politely out the door--but, from the condition of his
clothes and the rumpled state of his hair, his comrades cherished the
secret but sure conviction that he was kicked down the stairs. Be that
as it may, from that day Stuart was left to his own devices by the
professional politicians, who were loud in their accusations of
treachery and ingrat