odnight, the
_Monitor_, and all their following.

But the worst of the whole position to a man of Grayson's open and
direct temperament was the necessity to keep silent, even to dissemble,
or, at least, to do that which seemed to him very near to dissembling.
Although he was under so fierce a fire, he would not allow any one to
find fault with Churchill for his despatches; and this was not always
easy to do, because many of the local politicians, who were on the train
from time to time, would grow hot at sight of the criticisms, and want
to attack the writer. But Jimmy Grayson always interfered, and reminded
them that it was the right of the press to speak so if it wished.
Churchill still wondered, why he was not a martyr, and wasted his
regrets. Mrs. Grayson and Sylvia maintained an eloquent silence.

Meanwhile, an event destined to give Churchill and the _Monitor_ a yet
greater shock was approaching.

XIII

THE THIRD DEGREE

The candidate and his company were due one night at Grayville, a brisk
Colorado town, dwelling snugly in the shadow of high mountains and
hopeful of a brilliant future, based upon the mines within its limits
and the great pastoral country beyond, as any of its inhabitants, asked
or unasked, would readily have told you. Hence there was joy in the
train, from Jimmy Grayson down, because the next day was to be Sunday, a
period of rest, no speeches to be made, nothing to write, but just rest,
sleeping, eating, idling, bathing, talking--whatever one chose to do.
Only those who have been on arduous campaigns can appreciate the luxury
of such a day now and then, cutting like a sweep of green grass across
the long and dusty road.

There was also quite a little group of women on the train, the wives of
several Colorado political leaders having joined Sylvia and Mrs. Grayson
for a while, and they, too, looked forward to a day of rest and the
restoration of their toilets.

"They tell me that Grayville has one of the best hotels in the
mountains," said Barton to Harley, his brother correspondent. "That you
can get a dinner in a dozen courses, if you want it, and every course
good; that it has real porcelain-lined bath-tubs, and beds sure to cure
the worst case of insomnia on earth. Do you think this improbable, this
extravagant but most fascinating tale can be true, Harley?"

"I live in hope," replied Harley.

"Jimmy Grayson has been here before," interrupted Hobart, "and he says
it's true