Francisco worked at his novel. Word came of Alice Windham's death in Massachusetts. Robert urged his father to return to San Francisco, but Benito sought forgetfulness in European travel.
Frank had finished high school; was a cub reporter on The Bulletin. Pickering was dead; his widow and her brother, R.A. Crothers, had taken over the evening paper; John D. Spreckels, sugar nabob, now controlled the Call.
Newspaper policies were somewhat uncertain in these days of economic unrest. Strike succeeded strike, and with each there came a greater show of violence. Lines were more sharply drawn. Labor and capital organized for self-protection and offense.
"I hear that Governor Gage is coming down to settle the teamsters' strike," said Francisco to his son as they lunched together one sultry October day in 1901. "I can't understand why he's delayed until now."
"Probably wanted to keep out of it as long as possible," responded Frank. "There are strong political forces on each side ... but the story goes that Colonel 'Montezuma' Burns is jealous of Ruef's overtures to workingmen. So he's ordered the Governor to make a grandstand play."
"Perhaps I shall find me a man--big, strong, impressive--with a mind easily led.... Then I shall train him to be a leader.... I shall furnish the brain".
Stanley looked at his son in astonishment. He was not yet nineteen and he talked like a veteran of forty. Francisco wondered if these were his own deductions or mere parroted gossip of the office.