Windham placed a hand upon his nephew's shoulder. "I'm afraid I can't answer you, Frank," he said slowly. "You're a young man. You'll forget. The world goes on. And our griefs do not matter. We fall and we get up again ... just as Ruef and the others will."
"Do you suppose they'll catch him--Ruef, I mean?"
"Not if the big fellows can prevent it. If he's caught there'll be the deuce to pay. Our Pillars of Finance will topple.... No, I think Ruef is safe."
"I don't quite understand," said Stanley.
"Ruef, himself, is nothing; a political boss, a solicitor of bribes. But our corporation heads. The town will shake when they're accused, perhaps indicted. I know what's been going on. We're close to scandals that'll echo round the world."
Frank looked at his uncle wonderingly. Windham was a corporation lawyer. Doubtless he knew. Silently the two men made their way out of the graveyard. Frank determined to ride down town with his uncle, and then telephone to Aleta. He hadn't seen her for a week.
As the car passed the Call building they noted a crowd at Third and Market streets, reading a bulletin. People seemed excited. Frank jumped from the moving car and elbowed his way forward. In the newspaper window was a sheet of yellow paper inscribed in large script: "BURNS ARRESTS RUEF AT THE TROCADERO ROADHOUSE."