He had received the nomination of both the Democratic and Republican parties and had secured the passage of an act which denies a municipality holding more than 50 per cent of the property of another subdivision of the state, proprietary power over the security and stability of such subdivision. Moreover he was on the all-powerful Rules Committee, the Fish and Game, Local Government, Natural Resources, Social Welfare, and Election Committees, friend and frequent adviser of Governor Warren. Honeymooning Secretary Ickes was combining business with pleasure when he reached California and wanting to see how his Park System was functioning, he took his bride to see Death Valley. Besides, he had some plans affecting the Inyo area. The fight was having tough sledding in the legislature despite President Roosevelt’s approval. Then he talked to people less biased. “You’d better see Charlie....” “Who the hell’s Charlie?” asked Harold. “Senator from Death Valley....” With Ray Goodwin, Superintendent of the Death Valley Monument to guide him, he was taken to all the show places. “Now,” said Mr. Ickes, “I want to see Brown.” At Shoshone Charlie’s toggery is strictly for work which includes tending the gas pump, stove repairing, plumbing, and what-have-you. He was flat on his back under the dripping oil of a balky car when Mr. Goodwin stepped from the limousine. “Charlie,” Mr. Goodwin called, “Mr. Ickes is here to see you.” Receiving no answer, he walked over to the car and added that Mr. Ickes was in a hurry. Still, no answer. “It’s Secretary Ickes, Department of the Interior. This is important.” “So’s this,” Brown grunted. When he’d finished, he crawled out and wiping the grime from his hands, joined Goodwin at the waiting car. After being introduced to the bride and the self-styled “Old Curmudgeon” the latter explained his plan to add certain lands in Charlie’s district, to the Forest Reserve. “... You’re opposing me. You’re a Democrat, aren’t you?” “I came from Georgia,” Charlie drawled. “You’re for Roosevelt, aren’t you?” “Within reason,” Charlie answered. Then Mr. Ickes, with the assurance of the perfectionist began to sell his idea. “Do you know of any reason why the area designated as Forest Reserve should not be protected as any other of our natural resources?” he concluded. “Just one,” Charlie said. “What’s that?” Ickes snapped. “Your forest is nearly all brush land without a tree on it big enough to shade a lizard.” Charlie was similarly dressed when a well tailored and impatient tourist with a carload of friends whom he was evidently trying to impress, drove up for gas. Always unhurried, Charlie came to the pumps, slowly reached for the hose and as lazily checked the oil. “Say, fellow—” the tourist barked. “Senator Brown is a friend of mine. Get a move on or you’ll be looking for a job.”