"Montgomery Street Straight" was the plan. It was to be extended across Market street either in a straight line or at an easy angle--over all obstructions to the bay. "But such a scheme would involve millions," Benito objected. "It would cut through the Latham and Parrott homes for instance.... Old Senator Latham would hold you up for a prohibitive price. And Parrott would fight you to a finish." "Quite right," returned Harpending. "That's where you come in, Benito. We want you to draw us a bill and lobby it through the Legislature...." "The thing is to make it a law. Then the Governor must appoint a commission. The Latham and Parrott properties will be condemned and we can acquire them at a fair price." "Very well," Benito answered. "It's a go." Several days after his talk with Harpending, Benito met Adrian and Francisco, the latter a tall, gangling lad of sixteen. Father and son were talking animatedly, discussing some point on which Francisco seemed determined to have his way. "What d'ye think of this youngster of mine?" Stanley questioned. "Scarcely out of short pants and wants to be a newspaper man! I say he should go to school a few years more ... to one of those Eastern colleges you hear so much about. I've the money. He doesn't need to work.... Talk to him, Benito. Make him listen to sense." "I don't wish to go East, Uncle Ben," said Francisco. "What good will it do me to learn Latin and Greek.... Higher mathematics and social snobbery? I want to get to work. Calvin McDonald's offered me a job on The American Flag." "What will you do? Write editorials or poetry?" his father asked. Francisco flushed. "I'll be a copy boy to start with.... And there's no harm in writing poetry. Uncle Ben does it himself." It was Benito's turn to redden. "Better let the boy have his way," he said hastily. "Journalism's quite an education in itself." "So, you're against me, too! Well, well. I'll see about it." They shook hands good-humoredly, the boy beaming. Afterward news reached Benito that young Stanley was a member of McDonald's staff. * * * * * In 1865 there came the joyous news of victory and peace. The Democratic Press accepted Lee's surrender sullenly, printing now and then a covert sneer at Grant or Lincoln. Enmity died hard in Southern breasts. One morning as he came to town Benito saw a crowd of angry and excited men running down Montgomery street. Some of them brandished canes. "Down with Copperheads," they were shouting. Presently he heard a crash of glass, a cry of protest. Then a door gave with a splintering sound. The crowd rushed through, into the offices and print rooms of the Democratic Press. There was more noise of wreckage and destruction. Broken chairs, tables, typecases, bits of machinery hurtled into the street. Benito grasped the arm of a man who was hurrying by. "What's wrong?" he asked.