"David," called the major after a very few minutes of peace, "here's a
call for you on the desk. You'll recognize the number--remember, a firm
hand, sir--a firm hand!" with which he collected his hat, coat, and the
captain and took his departure, leaving David for the moment alone in the
editorial rooms.

He sat for a few moments before the receiver and twisted the call slip
around one of his fingers. In a moment the affairs of state and the
destiny of the city slipped from his shoulders and his mind took up the
details of another problem.

The contest for the judgeship was not the only one David Kildare had
taken upon himself--the second was being waged in the secret chambers of
two hearts, one proud, exacting and unconvinced, the other determined and
at last thoroughly aroused. Phoebe had brought the crisis on herself and
she was beginning to realize that the duel would be to the death or
complete surrender.

And in the preliminaries, which had been begun on the Saturday night hunt
and carried on for the last three days, David Kildare had failed to make
a single false move. His natural and inevitable absorption in his race
for the judgeship had served to keep him from forcing a single issue; and
Phoebe had had time to do a little lonely, unpursued thinking.

He had been entirely too clever to arouse her pride against him by a
suspicion of neglect in his attitude. His usual attentions were all
offered and a new one or two contrived. He sent Eph to report to her with
his electric every afternoon--she understood that he was unable by the
exigencies of the case to come himself to take her to keep her
appointments as was his custom. Her flowers were just as thoughtfully