that he can move to San Francisco. But I drive round in a dusty old buggy, with candy for the children in my pocket, and chin with the farmers about the crops and any old thing. When this county turns Democratic, as it shall in the next five years--likely as not sooner, we have so much raw material to work on in these immigrants--I intend to go to Congress, hold on in the House until there is a vacancy in the Senate, and there I'll be for life, and the boss of this State to boot. I can't say I care about the Presidency. It's only a chance that there may be anything doing while you're in--it's largely luck--and then when you're out, if you survive the White House--which most Presidents don't--you're as good as dead. I don't care about going abroad as a Consul-General, or even Ambassador, for I wouldn't hold any office under the United States government that was dependent upon the favor of a small group in Washington. You're no better than a servant, and you never know where you are. Political enemies at home, liars abroad, somebody with a little more influence, or any low political business, and you're fired without being heard in your own defence. You've got no redress, and may be disgraced for life without ever knowing where you were hit. None of that for me, although I'd like a big position of that sort for my wife. But she can cut all the dash she wants as a senator's wife, and I'll wield the big stick. That's where the fun comes in. I have a natural turn for politics, and then it's the only road out of Rosewater. The old gentleman is dead set upon my succeeding him in the bank, and he'd never give me a lift, although if I made a hit at anything he'd be so proud it would be easy sailing after. He's not a bit displeased that I've turned over a few thousands an aunt left me. But I'm after bigger game than that. She also left me two thousand acres of land, that look hopeless because there's not so much as a spring on them, and they're in one of the droughtiest sections in the State--she got them as a bad debt. Now, just over the border of that ranch is a big lake, and the owner of it won't sell or rent me water rights, thinking I'll sell out for a song. But he don't know Tom Colton. I'm a member of the present legislature--and that isn't the least of the reasons why. A few hundreds in a few hungry pockets, and we run a snake through the legislature declaring that lake state property. Then I ditch from the lake, and I am the proud owner of a large tract of valuable irrigated land. I sell off in small farms, and clean up a hundred thousand dollars. That I'll invest in a Class A building in San Francisco. I'm also in this projected electric railway of Boutts's--would advise you to buy a block of that stock--I can let you in on the ground floor. Money and political power, boss of this State--that's what I'm after--and no idle dream either. I know the ropes, and all I have to do is to hang on.