lip Danvers! For eight generations a son had borne
the name. Would he be the last to inherit it in this far country that
had come to be his own?

[Illustration]

Chapter III

A Man of Two Countries

On the Sunday spent in Helena the doctor proposed to Danvers that they
give over politics and call at the Blairs. "They won't stand on
formalities, and we both need to get our minds out of this political
struggle. I'll be glad when I can go home to Fort Benton!"

"Charlie seems to be doing well in Helena," remarked Philip, as they
approached the house next Judge Latimer's.

"He's up, then down. He isn't much of a business man, and hasn't head
enough to keep in the swim. He worships that sister of his, and just now
he's doing pretty well. I fancy that she knows nothing of his financial
standing."

"I imagine Miss Blair knows more about Charlie's difficulties than
either you or he give her credit for. She sees more than she tells."

The callers found brother and sister on the wide porch, and after the
greetings and a half-hour of general conversation, Charlie Blair asked
the doctor if he would come inside and give a little advice on a private
matter.

"Good," cried Winifred. "For once I'm glad that Charlie can think of
nothing but business. Now I can talk to Mr. Danvers."

"See that you do!" commanded Philip. "Yesterday I went away feeling like
a garrulous dame; it is your turn to-day."

Winifred affected to reflect. "What shall be my theme--art, music,
literature or our mutual friends?"

"Tell me of yourself."

"As a subject of conversation, that would be soon exhausted. Women, you
know, are too idle to be good; too conventional to be bad."

"Indeed!" returned the cattleman, catching her mood. "I have known many
women of that description. Pardon me, but I had imagined you were a
different type."

"You say the nicest things! I feel that we are going to be very good
friends."

Danvers bowed. "Thank you. I think we are."

She returned his frank gaze, and settled herself comfortably for an
afternoon's enjoyment.

"Now talk!" she in turn commanded, with the sweeping imperialism she
sometimes manifested toward a chance companion.

"I refuse. It is your turn."

"How you like to put on the mask of silence! Do you bolt the door to
everyone but the doctor and Judge Latimer?"

"Thoughts are hard things to express, unless one forgets himself, and
they come spontaneously."

"Go ahead and forget yours