n a
son."

Harley looked squarely into his eyes--the world was real now--and he saw
the utmost sincerity there.

"Mr. Plummer," he said, "you are one of God's noblemen."

The "King's" hand and Harley's met in a strong and true grip, and those
who noticed thought it was another incident due wholly to the stress of
the night and the storm.

When they reached the town Mrs. Grayson took Sylvia in her arms and the
others left her. Jimmy Grayson was to speak the next day at Freeport, a
village a little farther on, but that speech was never delivered, and
when the Freeport people heard the reason they made no complaint.

It was announced the next morning that Mrs. Grayson and Sylvia would
leave at once for the candidate's home, as their part of the campaign
was finished, but Harley found Sylvia alone in the little parlor of the
hotel. She was sitting by the window looking out at the vast snowy
plains and the dim blue mountains afar, and apparently she did not hear
him as he entered, although he closed the door behind him with a slight
noise. He leaned over her and took one of her hands in both of his.

"Sylvia," he said, "won't you come away from the window a moment?"

He did not wait for her answer, but drew her away.

"I do not want any one in the street to see me kiss you," he said, and
he kissed her.

Her cheeks, already red, grew redder.

"You mustn't do that," she said.

"I can't help myself," he said, humbly, and did it again.

"I have the right," he added, "because you are mine now. Last night Mr.
Plummer, of his own free will and volition, gave you to me."

"Good old daddy!" she murmured.

XXIII

ELECTION NIGHT

At last came the great day which was to tell whether their efforts were
a brilliant success or a dire failure--there was no middle ground--and
the special train took them to the small city in which the candidate
lived. All the correspondents were yet with him, as on the eventful
night following the eventful day they must tell the world how Jimmy
Grayson looked and what he said when the wires brought the news, good or
bad. A few faithful political friends had been invited also to stay with
him to the end, and they completed the group which would share the
hospitality of the candidate, who must smile and be the good host while
the nation was returning his sentence. Harley thought it a bitter
ordeal, but it could not be helped.

After his recognition of the great fact that Sylvia and