The Long Lane's Turning

re beneath. Outside was the spring sunshine and the smell of growing trees. Just across from the building stood the city's new Opera House, over

e more of the popular ebullitions which punctuate modern progress, the familiar periodic dust-storms from whose turmoil the Old Guard emerged, moveless as ever in the saddle, to a new campaign dictated by the mighty Over-Lord, the great Public Services

the prestige of well-known names and engaging personalities. Their forefathers had been men to whom honour and cleanliness in public life had meant all things and who had governed as naturally as they had breathed. And there were many among these to whom the new era, with its open sneer at public trust and its subservience to great aggregations of wealth selfishly employed, had become an increasi

s greeting and coming to the window, stood a moment beside him, looking down at the hurrying wheeled traff

ere, I suppo

. It's tilting at the

is year. But next year-the Gubernatorial campaign-if they only had fire

changed for the better during the past two months. The fact, indeed, would have been apparent to a casual eye. The virulent force and will were no

e game, and the realisation maddened him. Never since then had he heard her name coupled with Harry Sevier's. Never had he seen them together. This had given him satisfaction. But if he had shattered her regard for the man whom he now hated more tenaciously than he had ever hated anything in his whole life, the fact had seemed to hold no advantage for himself. On several visits to the city, he had invented reasons to call at the Allen house, but he had soon learned that he was not to meet Echo th

The last time I heard him was in court, just a year ago. The young fop! He'

sn't taken a case since the one you speak of. He fought for six months trying to get through an appeal on that. It was the first criminal case he had ever lost and it cut him up some, I fancy. Of course it's ri

left Treadwell's. "In

d in that speech of his last night he threw in his lot with them absolutely) they have a finely trained legal mind-for with all his old fire-works Sevier always had that-and a natural orator besides. You should have hea

ther's face. Perhaps to hide this, Craig turned away. His fingers were twitching and for an ins

achine campaign that I came to talk about. Ther

the tr

t is to be handed down on the firs

surprised. "But s

ght I knew the Judge, but ther

len!" he exclaimed. "Why, the trust made him.

p the agitation-particularly if they link on to the prohibition movement, as they are likely to do-the distillery may become a live issue in the next state campaign. That's the great danger. And this Welles-Scott case strikes a

e Judge, of course, can't be

. His mind ran in the same groove. But Beverly Allen, the Trust's counsel, and Judge Allen of the Supreme Court are different propositions. I always thought this test case was a mistake! But I

ok, if that's what you mean

sted down somewhere. That part of it is your business. If there's any such page in his case, you find

t the opposition couldn't get anything on. That was before your time, of course. I went over the report myself. There

y. "A love affair!

re weren't any details. And t

was he

id, "after all, there's a limit to decency. At the most it was nothing but a passing infatuation-a

voice, "you don't seem to understand. This is a big game, and th

m his segar. There was a tense pause

e the old

ere des

opened his lips to speak, but he did not. Instead, with a shrug of incredulo

footsteps descending the stair

he said und