A large touring car honked raucously almost in Frank's ear as he was crossing Sutter street, and he sprinted out of its lordly course, turning just in time to see the occupant of the back seat, a large man, rather handsome, in a hard, iron-willed way. He sat stiffly erect, unbending and aloof, with a kind of arrogance which just escaped being splendid. This was Patrick Calhoun, president of the United Railroads, who had sworn to break the Carmen's Union. It was said that Calhoun had sworn, though less loudly, to break the graft prosecution as well. * * * * * On Montgomery street several financial institutions were doing business in reclaimed ruins. One of these was the California Safe Deposit and Trust Company, which had made spectacular history of late. It was said that spiritualism entered into its affairs. Frank had been working on the story, which promised a sensation. As he neared the corner of California and Montgomery streets, where the crumbled bank walls had been transformed into a temporary habitation, he saw a crowd evidently pressing toward it. The bank doors were closed, though it was not yet three o'clock. Now and then people broke from the throng and wandered disconsolately away. One of these, a gray-haired woman, came in Frank's direction. He asked her what was wrong. "They're busted ... and they've got me money," she wailed. Hastily Frank verified her statement. Then he hurried to the office, found his notes and for an hour wrote steadily, absorbedly a spectacular tale of superstition, extravagance and financial chaos. As he turned in his copy the editor handed him a slip of paper on which was written: "Call Aleta Boice at once." He sought a telephone, but there was no response. He tried again, but vainly. A third attempt, however, and Aleta's voice, half frantic, answered his. "He's killed himself," she cried. "Oh, Frank, I don't know what to do." "He? Who?" Frank asked startled. "Frank, you know! The man who wanted me to--" "Do you mean the Supervisor?" "Yes.... They say it was an accident. But I know better. He lost his money in the safe deposit failure.... Oh, Frank, please come to me, quick." CHAPTER LXXXVI A NEW CITY GOVERNMENT Frank found Aleta, dry-eyed, frantic, pacing up and down her little sitting room which always looked so quaintly attractive with its jumble of paintings and bric-a-brac, its distinctive furniture and draperies--all symbolic of the helter-skelter artistry which was a part of Aleta's nature. She took Frank's hand and clung to it. "I'm so glad you've come," she whispered. "I'm so glad you've come." It was a little time ere she could tell him of the tragedy. The man had been run over, quickly killed. Witnesses had seen him stagger, fall directly in the path of an advancing car. A doctor called it apoplexy.