David Broderick sat on a rustic bench, his eyes on Alice Windham.  He thought, with a vague stirring of unrecognized emotion that she seemed the spirit of womanhood in the body of a fay.

“A flower for your thoughts,” she paraphrased and tossed him a rose.  Instinctively he pressed it to his lips.  He saw her color rise and turned away.  For a moment neither spoke.

“My thoughts,” he said at length, “have been of evil men and trickery and ambition.  I realize that, always, when I come here—­when I see you, Alice Windham.  For a little time I am uplifted.  Then I go back to my devious toiling in the dark.”

A shadow crossed her eyes, but a smile quickly chased it away.  “You are a fine man, David Broderick,” she said, “brave and wonderful and strong.  Why do you stoop to—­”

“To petty politics?” his answering smile was rueful.  “Because I must—­to gain my ends.  To climb a hill-top often one must go into a valley.  That is life.”

“No, that is sophistry,” her clear, straight glance was on him searchingly.  “You tell me that a statesman must be first a politician; that a politician must consort with rowdies, ballot-box stuffers, gamblers—­even thieves.  David Broderick, you’re wrong.  Women have their intuitions which are often truer than men’s logic.”  She leaned forward, laid a hand half shyly on his arm.  “I know this much, my friend:  As surely as you climb your ladder with the help of evil forces, just so surely will they pull you down.”

It was thus that Benito came upon them.  “Scolding Dave again?” He questioned merrily, “What has our Lieutenant-Governor been doing now?”

“Consorting with rowdies, gamblers, ballot-box stuffers—­not to mention thieves, ’twould seem,” said Broderick with a forced laugh.  Alice Windham’s eyes looked hurt.  “He has accused himself,” she said with haste.

“You’re always your own worst critic, Dave,” Benito said.  “I want to tell you something:  The Vigilance Committee forms this afternoon.”

The other’s eyes flashed.  “What is that to me?” he asked, with some asperity.

“Only this,” retorted Windham.  “The committee means business; it’s going to clean up the town—­” Broderick made as if to speak but checked his utterance.  Benito went on:  “I tell you, Dave, you had better cut loose from your crowd.  Some of them are going to get into trouble.  You can’t afford to have them running to you—­calling you their master.”

He took from his pocket a folded paper.  “We’ve been drafting a constitution, Hall McAllister and I.”  He read the rather stereotyped beginning.  Broderick displayed small interest until Benito reached the conclusion: 

     We are determined that no thief, burglar, incendiary or
     assassin shall escape punishment either by the quibbles of
     the law, the insecurity of prisons, the carelessness and
     corruption of police or A laxity of those who pretend to
     administer justice.