"Bosh!" the younger man retorted pertly. "Everyone's doing this sort of thing now. Come along, dad. See the fun." He caught his father's arm and they re-entered, taking the stairs, this time, to the boxes above. From one came a man's laughing banter. "That's he," Frank whispered, Hastily he drew his half reluctant father into a vacant box. A waiter brought them beer, collected half a dollar and inquired if they wanted "Company." Francisco shook his head. The man in the adjoining box was drunk, the girl was frightened. Their voices filtered plainly through the thin partition. He was urging her to drink and she was protesting. Finally she screamed. Stanley and his son sprang simultaneously to the rescue. They found a young man in an evening suit trying to kiss a very pretty girl. His ears were red where she had boxed them and as he turned a rather foolish face surprisedly toward the intruders, a scratch showed livid on one cheek. The girl's hair streamed disheveled by the struggle. She caught up, hastily, a handsome opera cloak to cover her torn corsage. "Please," she said, "get me out of here quickly.... I'll pay you well." Then she flushed as young Stanley stiffened. "I ... I beg your pardon." He offered her his arm and they passed from the box together. The befuddled swain, after a dazed interval, attempted to follow, but Francisco flung him back. He heard the carriage door shut with a snap, the clatter of iron-shod hoofs. Then he went out to look for Frank, but did not find him. Evidently he had gone with the lady. Francisco smiled. It was quite an adventure. Thoughtfully he gazed at the banners flung across Market street: "VOTE FOR EUGENE SCHMITZ, "The Workingman's Friend." That was Abraham Ruef's adventure. He wondered how each of them would end. CHAPTER LXXVI POLITICS AND ROMANCE Ruef swept the field with his handsome fiddler. All "South of Market street" rallied to his support. The old line parties brought their trusty, well-oiled election machinery into play, but it availed them little. Robert and Francisco met one day soon after the election. "Everyone is laughing at our fiddler Mayor," said the former. "He's like a king without a court; for all the other offices were carried by Republicans and Democrats." Francisco smoked a moment thoughtfully. "Union Labor traded minor offices for Mayoralty votes, I understand. Meanwhile Ruef is building his machine. He has convinced the labor people that he knows the game. They've given him carte blanche." "And how does the big fellow take it?" "I was talking with him yesterday," Francisco answered. "Schmitz is shy just yet. But feels his dignity. Oh, mightily!" He laughed. "Little Abe will have his hands full with big 'Gene, I'm thinking." "But Ruef's not daunted by the prospect."