It was common talk in the capital, the article went on to say, that Theodore Watling himself had drawn up the measure.... Perusing the editorial page my eye fell on the name, Krebs. One member of the legislature above all deserved the gratitude of the people of the state,--the member from Elkington. "An unknown man, elected in spite of the opposition of the machine, he had dared to raise his voice against this iniquity," etc., etc. We had won. That was the essential thing. And my legal experience had taught me that victory counts; defeat is soon forgotten. Even the discontented, half-baked and heterogeneous element from which the Pilot got its circulation had short memories. XI. The next morning, which was Sunday, I went to Mr. Watling's house in, Fillmore Street--a new residence at that time, being admired as the dernier cri in architecture. It had a mediaeval look, queer dormers in a steep roof of red tiles, leaded windows buried deep in walls of rough stone. Emerging from the recessed vestibule on a level with the street were the Watling twins, aglow with health, dressed in identical costumes of blue. They had made their bow to society that winter. "Why, here's Hugh!" said Frances. "Doesn't he look pleased with himself?" "He's come to take us to church," said Janet. "Oh, he's much too important," said Frances. "He's made a killing of some sort,--haven't you, Hugh?"... I rang the bell and stood watching them as they departed, reflecting that I was thirty-two years of age and unmarried. Mr. Watling, surrounded with newspapers and seated before his library fire, glanced up at me with a welcoming smile: how had I borne the legislative baptism of fire? Such, I knew, was its implication. "Everything went through according to schedule, eh? Well, I congratulate you, Hugh," he said. "Oh, I didn't have much to do with it," I answered, smiling back at him. "I kept out of sight." "That's an art in itself." "I had an opportunity, at close range, to study the methods of our lawmakers." "They're not particularly edifying," Mr. Watling replied. "But they seem, unfortunately, to be necessary." Such had been my own thought. "Who is this man Krebs?" he inquired suddenly. "And why didn't Varney get hold of him and make him listen to reason?" "I'm afraid it wouldn't have been any use," I replied. "He was in my class at Harvard. I knew him--slightly. He worked his way through, and had a pretty hard time of it. I imagine it affected his ideas." "What is he, a Socialist?" "Something of the sort." In Theodore Watling's vigorous, sanity-exhaling presence Krebs's act appeared fantastic, ridiculous. "He has queer notions about a new kind of democracy which he says is coming. I think he is the kind of man who would be willing to die for it."