In all his experience of men, Thorndyke had never watched with the same interest the development of a man in his public and private life as he watched Julian Crane’s. He saw the good and the evil struggling together in Crane, and had not yet found out which was fundamental. Crane, with Annette and the two children, had returned to Circleville immediately after the adjournment of Congress, and immediately, on reaching home, he had been beset with a temptation, against which he had made a short, hard fight, and then was conquered, and gave up all the honesty of his soul as regards politics. One week after his return to Circleville, he had received overtures for peace from Governor Sanders, and a meeting between them had been arranged. It took place in a neighbouring city, in the private parlour of a hotel. The two men were entirely alone. Sanders, a bull-dog of a man, came out frankly and told Crane that, by the cutthroat policy they were pursuing, they were simply playing into Senator Bicknell’s hands, and depriving the State of its just weight with the National Committee in the year of a Presidential convention. His proposition was a large one, but was put in a few words. The Governor began by freely admitting that Crane had got the best of him in the matter of the senatorial appointment--the politicians were agreed on that. But all men make blunders, and Governor Sanders proposed to atone for the blunder he had made about the senatorship by joining forces with Crane instead of opposing him further. It was plain that there was a strong revolt against Senator Bicknell, and a split was inevitable among the chiefs as soon as the Legislature met, which would elect a senator. When this break came, new alignments must be made, and Governor Sanders believed and said that if he and Crane should join forces they could oust Senator Bicknell and get control of the machine.