lly liquor would have had no effect on him, but to-day it was fire
to a brain already on fire. All his grievances now became great
wrongs--he was an injured man whom the world persecuted; Grayson, for
whom he had done so much in political life, had betrayed him; the girl
whom he was going to marry had betrayed him, too, and this young
Eastern slip, Harley, was surely laughing at him.

These thoughts were intolerable to the "King," who had hitherto been
victorious always, and now his rage centred on Harley; he saw Harley
everywhere, at every point of the compass wherever he looked, and when
he came out of the saloon and went down the deserted street he saw
Harley in reality, strolling along absently, his eyes upon the ground.
He thought first that the correspondent was on his way to join the crowd
around the speaker's stand, but he soon perceived that he was going in
another direction. It was "King" Plummer's first impulse--there was
still liquid fire in his veins--to overtake Harley and demand the only
kind of satisfaction that such a man as he should have. Then he wished
to see where Harley was going, because he had a premonition--false in
this case, the meeting was by accident--that he was on his way to
Sylvia; so he decided to follow as an animal stalks its game. Only the
most powerful emotion conjoined with other circumstances could have made
the "King" do such a thing, as his nature was essentially open, and he
loved open methods. Yet he trailed his enemy with the skill and cunning
of an Indian.

He saw Harley and Sylvia meet, and all his suspicions were confirmed.
Again he felt a fierce impulse, and it was to rush upon the guilty pair,
but he restrained it and still followed. His perceptions were trained to
other things, but he was in no danger of being seen by them; they were
too much absorbed in each other, and all the world passed by them
unnoticed. The "King," though a rough, blunt man, saw this, and it made
the fire in him burn the hotter.

He saw them stop at last, he saw Harley kiss Sylvia, and then he saw
the girl turn away. He waited until he saw Sylvia pass over the swell,
and then he took his opportunity. Whether he would have fired if Sylvia
had not come he could not say to himself afterwards in his cooler
moments. Remorse upon this point tortured him for some time.

When he turned away he saw nothing. He was agitated by the powerful
truth that Sylvia preferred death with Harley to life with him, an