Francisco loved to wander round the town, explore its nooks and corners and make himself, for the time being, a part of his surroundings. A smattering of European languages aided him in this. He rubbed elbows with coatless workmen in French, Swiss, Spanish and Italian "pensions," sitting at long tables and breaking black bread into red wine. He drank black coffee and ate cloying sweetmeats in Greek or Turkish cafes; hobnobbed with Sicilian fishermen, helping them to dry their nets and sometimes accompanying them in their feluccas into rough seas beyond the Heads. Now and then he invaded Chinatown and ate in their underground restaurants, disdaining the "chop suey" and sweets invariably served to tourists for the more palatable and engaging viands he had learned to like and name in Shanghai and Canton. Fortunately, he could afford to indulge his bent, for the value of his inheritance had increased extraordinarily in the past decade. Stanley's income was more than sufficient to insure a life of leisure. * * * * * At Market and Fourth streets stood a large and rather nondescript gray structure built by Flood, the Comstock millionaire. It had served for varied purposes, but now it housed the Palais Royal, an immense saloon and gambling rendezvous. In the massive, barn-like room, tile-floored and picture-ornamented, were close to a hundred tables where men of all descriptions drank, played cards and talked. Farther to the rear were private compartments, from which came the incessant click of poker chips. Francisco and Robert sometimes lunched at the Palais Royal. The former liked its color and the vital energy he always found there. Robert "sat in" now and then at poker. He had a little of his father's love for Chance, but a restraining sanity left him little the loser in the long run. Robert had three children, the eldest a girl of twelve. Petite and dainty Maizie had become a plump and bustling mother-hen. It was in the Palais Royal that Francisco met Abraham Ruef, a dapper and engaging gentleman of excellent address, greatly interested in politics. He was a graduate of the State University, where he had specialized in political economy. Francisco liked him, and they often sat for long discussions of the local situation after lunching at the Palais Royal. Ruef, in a small way, was a rival of Colonel Dan Burns, the Republican boss. Burns, they said, was jealous of Ruef's reform activites. "If one could get the laboring class together," Ruef told Stanley, "one could wield a mighty power. Some day, perhaps, I shall do it. The laborer is a giant, unconscious of his strength. He submits to Capital's oppression, unwitting of his own capacity to rule. For years we've had nothing but strikes, which have only strengthened employers." "Yes, they're always broken," said Francisco. "The strike is futile. Organization--political unity; that's the thing." "A labor party, eh?" Francisco spoke, a trifle dubiously.