running for Mayor."

"WHAT?"

There was a general exclamation, followed by
an uncomfortable moment or two of silence. No
one present was unaware of that noon walk, though
there was prevalent a pleasing notion that it would
not happen again, founded on the idea that Ariel,
having only arrived the previous evening, had
probably met Joe on the street by accident, and,
remembering him as a playmate of her childhood
and uninformed as to his reputation, had, naturally
enough, permitted him to walk home with her.

Mr. Flitcroft broke the silence, rushing into words
with a derisive laugh: "Yes, he's `talked of' for
Mayor--by the saloon people and the niggers! I
expect the Beaver Beach crowd would be for him,
and if tramps could vote he might--"

"What is Beaver Beach?" asked Ariel, not turning.

"What is Beaver Beach?" he repeated, and cast
his eyes to the sky, shaking his head awesomely.
"It's a Place," he said, with abysmal solemnity,
--"a Place I shouldn't have mentioned in your
presence, Miss Tabor."

"What has it to do with Mr. Louden?"