The lines are a careful acknowledgment of the paternity of the girl child of "Natalie de Santos," born at San Francisco and now about eighteen years of age. It closes with a statement of her right to inherit as a lawful heiress from him. "I will shoot that dog on sight, if he carries out this threat," deliberately says Hardin. "Judge," coldly replies his lieutenant, "does this note refer to public affairs, or to party interests?" "Private matters!" replies Hardin, his eyes flashing. "Then, let me say, I will keep silent in this matter. I shall ask you to name some other man to handle your candidacy before the Legislature. Joe Woods is honest, and absolutely of iron nerve. You can send for any of your other friends, and choose a man to take my place. I won't fight Joe. Woods never lied in his life. "If you will state that you have adjusted this difference with him, I am at your service. Let me know your decision soon. He waits for me. In all else, I am yours, as a friend, but I will not embroil the State now for a mere private feud. Send for me, Judge, when you have decided." In the long and heated conferences of the night, before the sun again pours its shimmering golden waves on the parched plains of Sacramento, Hardin finds no one who will face the mysterious situation. Harris finds the patient Joe playing seven-up with a couple of friends, and his pistols on the table. "All right, Harris; let him think it over." Joe nods, and continues his game. Calmly expectant, when Harris sends his name up next morning, Joe Woods is in very good humor. The gathering forces are anxious for the hour when a solemn secret party caucus shall name the man to be officially balloted in as Senator of the United States for six years. The term is not to begin for three months, but great corporations, the banks, with their heaped millions, and all the mighty high-priests of the dollar-god, need that sense of security which Hardin's ability will give to their different schemes. Their plans can be safely laid out then. In simple straightforwardness, Harris hands Woods a sealed envelop, without a word. In the vigils of one awful night, Philip Hardin knows that he must fence off the maddened woman who seems to have a mysterious hold upon his destiny at this crisis. What force impels her? Hardin has enjoined Harris to have Woods repeat his pledge of "non-opposition." "Did you see the Jedge sign this here paper?" says Woods dryly, as he inspects the signature. His face is solemn. "I did," Harris answers. "Then just write your name here as witness," Joseph briskly says, handing him a pen, and covering the few lines of the document, leaving only Philip Hardin's well-known signature visible. Harris hesitates. Joe's eyes are blazing; no foolery now! Harris quietly signs. The name of Joseph Woods is added, at once, with the date.