"Because we have not been able to send speakers there, and the Plutocrats wrecked the train which was conveying the biograph pictures. You know the Press of the slope, with but few exceptions, are owned by the Magnates and suppress every bit of news that would be detrimental to them. They have distorted the acts of the Committee of Forty. Out in California the great mass of the people look upon the Independents as a party of Anarchists." "Trueman can be elected without California, can he not?" "Elected! Why, he will carry forty States." "You really believe it?" asks Nevins, earnestly. "I would wager my life on it," is the instant reply. Nevins hurries from the headquarters and goes to his room. He writes a letter to Trueman, setting forth his hopes that the interests of the people will ever remain Trueman's actuating principle. With absolute fidelity he tells of the struggle he has undergone since the day he sent Golding to his death, and his reason for procrastinating in ending his life. When the letter is finished Nevins reads it with evident satisfaction. "Now I will go to the committee," is his resolve. A pistol lies on the table. He picks up the weapon. There is no hesitancy in his manner. Death has been a matter which he has contemplated for months, and it holds no terror for him. "If I have sinned against Thee, O, God," he murmurs, "death would be too mild a punishment for me. I would deserve to be everlastingly damned, to live on this earth and bear the denunciation of my fellowmen. "My death, like those of the committee who have already fulfilled their pledge, is not suicide, but part of the inevitable price of liberty." The pistol is raised to his temple. Then a thought flashes upon him. "Your death will come as an ante-climax to the election. It may be the means of defeating the Independents." This thought causes him to lower the pistol. "To-morrow," he mutters. At daybreak Nevins is at the headquarters and remains near the chief operator, eager for every detail of the election. "What is the weather prediction?" he inquires. "Generally clear; light local rains on Pacific seaboard." "I am most intensely interested in the result of the election," Nevins confided to the operator, to explain his presence at headquarters. "I have come all the way from San Francisco to congratulate Trueman on his election." "I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Mr. Trueman is at his home in Wilkes-Barre." "Well, I shall telegraph him my congratulations. I want to be the first man in the United States to send him an authoritative message confirming his election. If you can arrange to let me have the news first, when it comes in, and will send my message, I shall be glad to pay you for the service." "I have the wire that will send him the news," the operator states as he pats a transmitter on the desk before him. "What do you call a fair payment for the message?" "Twenty-five dollars." "I'll send your message."