Complete success crowned the movement. The reform Mayor was elected by a large majority. Ten months had passed and the net results were discouraging. Police scandals ran riot as of yore; gambling, drinking and the social evil flourished as before; and the press, that had valiantly and almost unanimously championed Reform, now exhausted upon it the vocabulary of abuse. Gordon was disgusted and sickened and felt that one of his fairest dreams had been shattered forever. The reaction from this reform programme had thrown him more than ever back upon his ideas of a Socialistic revolution which should destroy Commercialism itself, and he had become its enthusiastic champion. Kate Ransom had followed his change of views with keenest sympathy. She had read every book after him and had responded to his every mood. "No; we're on the wrong tack, with our half-way measures and our fitful charities," he said to her. "We must go deeper. We must make the Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood of Man our daily life, not merely a poetic theory. "We have hundreds of beautiful-souled men and women giving their lives in sacrifice for the city's poor and fallen. They seem to make little impression on its ocean of misery. We are bailing out the sea with teaspoons." "I feel you are right, as you always are," she responded, unconscious of the contradiction. "The Brotherhood of Man and the Solidarity of the Race we must make vital realities. Greed, commercialism, competition and the monopolistic instincts are the cause of all this crime and misery and confusion. Love, not force, must rule the world." "And you are the prophet to lead humanity into this Kingdom of Love," she said, her eyes enfolding him with their soft blue light. "I fear I'm too great a coward for such a task. The man who does it must break with the past, become accursed for the truth's sake, defy social law and convention, breast the storm of the world's hate, die despised, and wait for a nobler generation to place his name on the roll of the world's heroes." "It is your work," she cried with elation. "It's a lonely way for the soul to travel." "You will have one loyal follower the blackest hour of the darkest night that comes." A curious smile played around her full lips, and he looked away, afraid to say anything. "Yes, I know that," he softly answered. "And I'm more afraid for that very reason." "I'm not afraid." Her voice rang clear and thrilling. "I wonder if you know the meaning of such words; or if you are thinking of one thing and I of another?" he slowly asked. "I dare to think many things I've never dared to say," she replied. "A break must come sooner or later," he went on. "No man of my temperament and brain can live under the conditions here, feel the grip of this cruelty on the throat of humanity, read and think, and endure it." "It seems to me a social revolution must come quickly."