e iron entered the soul of the Honorable Herbert, and he became a
soured and disappointed man, but he stuck gravely to his chosen task.
Harley, despite his dislike, could not keep from admiring his tenacity.
Nobody, except the candidate, paid the slightest attention to him; even
Sylvia and Mrs. Grayson ignored him; if he made suggestions, nobody said
anything to the contrary, but they were never adopted, and Mr. Heathcote
noticed, too, that the others seemed to be enduring the life easily,
while it was altogether too full for him. If there was any angle, he
seemed somehow to knock against it; and if there was any pitfall, it was
he who fell into it. But he gave no sign of returning to the East, and
his misfortunes continued. From time to time they got copies of the
Western papers containing full reports of Jimmy Grayson's canvass, and
none of them, except the _Monitor_, ever spoke flatteringly of the
Honorable Herbert or his efforts to put the campaign on a higher plane.

Churchill spoke once to the group of correspondents and politicians
about the lack of deference paid to the committeeman, but he was invited
so feelingly to attend to his own business that he never again risked
it. However, he said in his despatches to the _Monitor_ that even Mr.
Heathcote's efforts could not keep the campaign on a dignified level.

At last, on one dreadful day, they lost the lackey again, and this time
there was no hope of recovery. He had been seen, his hands full of
baggage, running for the wrong train, and when they heard from him he
was far down in Colorado, stranded, and there was no possible chance for
him to overtake the "special." Accordingly, his master, acting under
expert advice, telegraphed him money and a ticket and ordered him back
to New York. When the news was taken to the candidate Harley saw an
obvious look of relief on his face. That valet had been a terrible
weight upon the campaign, and none knew it better than Jimmy Grayson.

Mr. Heathcote now became morose and silent. Much of his lofty and
patronizing air disappeared, although the desire to instruct would crop
out at times. Usually he was watchful and suspicious, but the struggle
for bread and a place to sleep necessarily consumed a large portion of
his energies. As time dragged on his manner became that of one hunted,
but doggedly enduring, nevertheless. The candidate always spoke to him
courteously, whenever he had a chance, but then there was little time
for