kissed, Elsie's eyes were dim with tears,
and she hurried to Jennie as if for relief from her emotion. When she
turned, her father was shaking hands urbanely with Curtis.

"Glad to meet you, sir," he said, in the tone of the suave man of
position. "I didn't catch the name."

A spasm of pain crossed Elsie's face. "This is Mr. Curtis, papa. Don't
you remember Captain Curtis?"

"Ah, yes, so it is," he replied. "I remember you spoke of him once
before. I am very glad to make your acquaintance--very glad indeed,
sir."

To meet this calm politeness in a man who, in his right mind, would have
refused to shake hands, was deeply moving to the young officer. To all
outward appearance the great promoter was the same, and on all matters
concerning his first campaign and first term, and especially on the
events of his early life, he spoke with freedom, even with humor, but of
the incidents of the later campaign he had no recollection. That he had
been defeated and humbled seemed also to have left no lasting mark upon
his mind.

"The fact is, my memory has grown very bad," he explained. "I can
remember faces in a dim way, but anything that is said to me I forget
instantly."

For a time the thought of Brisbane's mental decay threw a gloom over the
party, but Elsie said: "Please don't mind him. I have reached a certain
philosophic calm in the matter. I can do him no good by sorrowing. I
have, therefore, determined to be as happy as I can."

Curtis cheerfully called: "We must start at once. Will your father go
with us?"

"Oh no! I am afraid to have him undertake that. He will go on to Copper
City with his secretary."

"Of course, that is best," replied Curtis, vastly relieved.

Brisbane parted with Elsie quite matter-of-factly, and his urbanity
remained unbroken as he shook hands with Curtis. "Pleased to have met
you, sir," he said, and, in spite of her resolution, the tears filled
the daughter's eyes. The old warrior's smiling forgetfulness of feuds
was tragic.

As they rode homeward, Curtis and Elsie sat as before on the forward
seat, and he detailed what had taken place at the agency, and she
listened, genuinely absorbed. She laughed and she wept a little as his
story touched on the pathetic incidents of the year.

"You are like a father confessor," she said. "You hold in your hands the
most intimate secrets of your people. I don't understand your patience
with them. Do you feel that you have made your demonstration?