o catch the Limited?"

"I think so. The road has been traveled for two or three days. If you
really must go. I hate to have you streak off like this."

"I'd like to stay, Sam, but I can't. For one thing, there's that
senatorial fight coming on. Now that Harley's on the ground in person,
I'll have to look after my fences pretty close. He's a good fighter,
and he'll be out to win."

"After what you've done for him. Don't you think that will make a
difference, Waring?"

His friend laughed without mirth. "What have I done for him? I left him
in the snow to die, and while a good many thousand other people would
bless me for it, probably he has a different point of view."

"I was thinking of what you did for his wife."

"You've said it exactly. I did it for her, not for him. I'll accept
nothing from Harley on that account. He is outside of the friendship
between her and me, and he can't jimmy his way in."

Yesler shrugged his shoulders. "All right. I'll order a rig hitched for
you and drive you over myself. I want to talk over this senatorial
fight anyhow. The way things look now it's going to be the rottenest
session of the legislature we've ever had. Sometimes I'm sick of being
mixed up in the thing, but I got myself elected to help straighten out
things, and I'm certainly going to try."

"That's right, Sam. With a few good fighters like you we can win out.
Anything to beat the Consolidated."

"Anything to keep our politics decent," corrected the other. "I've got
nothing against the Consolidated, but I won't lie down and let it or
any other private concern hog-tie this State--not if I can help it,
anyhow."

Behind wary eyes Ridgway studied him. He was wondering how far this man
would go as his tool. Sam Yesler held a unique position in the State.
His influence was commanding among the sturdy old-time population
represented by the non-mining interests of the smaller towns and open
plains. He must be won at all hazards to lend it in the impending fight
against Harley. The mine-owner knew that no thought of personal gain
would move him. He must be made to feel that it was for the good of the
State that the Consolidated be routed. Ridgway resolved to make him see
it that way.

CHAPTER 7. BACK FROM ARCADIA

The president of the Mesa Ore-producing Company stepped from the
parlor-car of the Limited at the hour when all wise people are taking
life easy after a good dinner. He did not, however, drive to his club,