low! Here's the town at sixes and sevens about the 'little brown
brother.' Doesn't want him with its white kids in the public schools.
The Mikado stirs the devil of a row with Washington about it. And Teddy
sends for 'Gene. Just his luck to come back a conquering hero."

But Schmitz fared badly at the Capital, whence Roosevelt dispatched a
"big stick" message to the California Legislature. At the same time
George B. Keane, the Supervisors' clerk, and a State Senator as well,
was working for the "Change of Venus bill," a measure which if passed,
would have permitted Ruef to take his case out of the jurisdiction of
Judge Dunne. But the bill was defeated. Once more Ruef's straining at
the net of Justice had achieved no parting of the strands.

On March 6 Stanley greeted Mayor Schmitz as he stepped from a train at
Oakland Mole. Correspondents and reporters gathered round the tall,
bearded figure. Schmitz looked tired, discouraged.

Perfunctorily, uneasily, Schmitz answered the reporter's queries. He had
done his level best for San Francisco. As for the charges pending
against him, they would soon be disproved. No one had anything on him.
All his acts were open to investigation.

"Do you know that Ruef has skipped?" Frank asked.

"Wh-a-a-t!" the Mayor set down his grip. He seemed struck all of a heap
by the announcement.

"Fact!" another newsman corroborated. "Abie's jumped his bond. He's the
well-known 'fugitive from justice.'"

Without a word the Mayor left them. He walked aboard the ferry boat
alone. They saw him pacing back and forth across the forward deck, his
long overcoat flapping in the wind, one hand holding the dark, soft hat
down on his really magnificent head.

"A ship without a rudder," said Frank. The others nodded.

* * * * *

Over the municipal administration was the shadow of Ruef's flight. The
shepherd had deserted his flock. And the wolves of the law were howling.

Frank was grateful to the Powers for this rushing pageant of political
events. It gave him little chance to grieve. Now and then the tragedy of
Bertha gripped him by the throat and shook him with its devastating
loneliness. He found a certain solace in Aleta's company. She was always
ready, glad to walk or dine with him. She knew his silences; she
understood.

But there were intervals of grief beyond all palliation; days when he
worked blindly through a grist of tasks that seemed unreal. And at night