James came down to the office one morning in his car with a smile of contentment on his handsome face. It had been decided that he was to be made speaker of the House after the next election, assuming that he and his party were returned to power. Jeff and the progressives were to stand back of him, and he felt sure that after a nominal existence the standpatters would accept him. He intended by scrupulous fair play to win golden opinions for himself. From the speakership to the governor's chair would not be a large step. After that--well, there were many possibilities. He did not for a moment admit to himself that there was anything of duplicity in the course he was following. His intention was to line up with the progressives during the campaign, to win his reelection on that platform, and to support a rational liberal program during the session. He would favor an initiative and referendum amendment not so radical as the one Jeff offered, a bill that would not cripple business or alarm capital. As he looked at it life was a compromise. The fusion of many minds to a practical result always demanded this. And results were more important than any number of theories. As James passed into his office the stenographer stopped him with a remark. “A man has been in twice to see you this morning, Mr. Farnum.” “Did he leave his name?” “No. He said he would call again.” James passed into his private office and closed the door. A quarter of an hour later his stenographer knocked. “He's here again, Mr. Farnum.” “Who?” “The man I told you of.” “Oh!” James put down the brief he was reading. “Show him in.” A figure presently stood hesitating in the doorway. James saw an oldish man, gray and stooped with a rather wistful lost-dog expression on his face. “What can I do for you, sir?” he questioned. “Don't you know me?” the stranger asked with a quaver in his voice. The lawyer did not, but some premonition of disaster clutched at his heart. He rose swiftly and closed the door behind his caller. A faint smile doubtful of its right touched the weak face of the little old man. “So you don't know your own father--boy!” A sudden sickness ran through the lawyer and sapped his strength. He leaned against the desk uncertainly. It had come at last. The whole world would learn the truth about him. The Merrills, the Fromes, Valencia Van Tyle--all of them would know it and scorn him. “What are you doing here?” James heard himself say hoarsely. “Why, I--I--I came to see my son.” “What for?” Before so harsh and abrupt a reception the weak smile went out like a blown candle. “I thought you'd be glad to see me--after so many years.” “Why should I be glad to see you? What have you ever done for me but disgrace me?” Tears showed in the watery eyes. “That's right. It's gospel truth, I reckon.” “And now, when I've risen above it, so that all men respect me, you come back to drag me down.” “No--no, I wouldn't do that, son.”