In a red cap
and ermine-trimmed robe, he might have been Richelieu, defying the
throne. Or, otherwise clad, the Porthos of Dumas' "Three Musketeers."
Francisco could not help reflecting that Ruef had borrowed a very fine
presence indeed.
Ruef asked Francisco to his table. He talked a great deal about
politics. Schmitz listened open-eyed; Stanley more astutely. All at once
Ruef leaned toward Francisco.
"What do you think of Mr. Schmitz--as a candidate for Mayor?" he asked.
"I think," Francisco answered meaningly, "that you have chosen well."
They rose, shook hands. To Francisco's surprise Schmitz left them. "I
have a matinee this afternoon," he said. Ruef walked down Market street
with Stanley.
"He's leader of the Columbia orchestra.... I met him through my dealings
with the Musicians' Union." Impulsively he grasped Francisco's arm.
"Isn't he a wonder? I'll clean up the town with him. Watch me!"
"And, are you certain you can manage this chap?"
Ruef laughed a quiet little laugh of deep content. "Oh, Gene is
absolutely plastic. Just a handsome musician. And of good, plain people.
His father was a German band leader; his mother is Irish--Margaret
Hogan.
Pages:
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439