hispering, though most people, I'll gamble, would say it is like the
clatter of a mill. And I've done some riding, too, both train and horse.
The mountains are going to be all right. Don't you forget that, Jimmy."

"And it's lucky for me that 'King' Plummer is my friend," said Mr.
Grayson, sincerely.

During this talk of politics, Sylvia Morgan was silent, and once, when
"King" Plummer laid his big hand protectingly on her arm, she shrank
slightly, but so slightly that no one save Harley noticed, not even the
"King." The action roused doubts in his mind. Surely a girl would not
shrink from her uncle in this manner, not from a big, kindly uncle like
Plummer.

"I wanted to get down to Chicago and hear you at your first speech,"
went on "King" Plummer, in his big, booming voice, that filled the room,
"but I couldn't manage it. There was a convention at Boise that needed a
little attention--one likes to look on at those things, you know"--his
left eye contracted slightly--"and as soon as that was over I hurried
down as fast as an express could bring me. But I've read in all the
papers what a howlin' success it was, an' I'm goin' to hear you give it
to the other fellows to-night--won't we, Sylvia?"

He turned to the girl for confirmation of what needed no confirmation,
and her eyes smiled into his with a certain pride. She seemed to Harley
to admire his bigness, his openness of manner and speech, and his
wholesome character. After all, he was her uncle; the look that she gave
him then was that of one who received protection, half paternal and half
elder-brotherly.

"And now, Jimmy, I guess I've taken up enough of your time," exclaimed
"King" Plummer, his big, resonant chest-tones echoing in the room, "and
it's for you to do all the talkin' that's left. But I'll be in a box
listenin', and just you do your best for the credit of the West and the
mountains."

Grayson smiled and promised, and "King" Plummer joined them in the
carriage that bore them to the hall. He took his place with them in such
a natural and matter-of-fact manner that Harley was confirmed in his
renewed opinion that he was Sylvia Morgan's uncle, or, at least, her
next of kin, after Mr. Grayson.

At the hall "King" Plummer, as he had promised, sat in a box with Mrs.
Grayson and Miss Morgan, and always he led the applause, which in
reality needed no leading, the triumph at Chicago being repeated in full
degree. Harley, watching him from his desk, saw th