ely the crudities of Idaho,
and to incite her to yet more strenuous battle for her beloved
mountains.

But both ceased to talk, because the candidate was approaching his
climax, and the grand swell of his speech had in it a musical quality
that did not detract from its power to carry conviction. Then he closed,
and the thunders of applause rose again and again. At last, after bowing
many times to the gratified audience, he came back to the box, and his
niece, her eyes shining with delight, sprang up, as if driven by an
impulse, and, throwing her arms about his neck, kissed him. The act was
seen by many, and it was applauded, but Harley did not like it; her
emotion seemed to him too youthful, to smack too little of restraint--in
short, to be too Western. Despite himself, he frowned, and when she
turned back towards the box she saw the frown still upon his face. There
was an instant fiery flash in her eye, and she drew herself up as if in
haughty defiance, but she said nothing then, nor did she speak later
when she left with the Graysons, merely giving him a cold good-night
bow.

Harley lingered a little with the other correspondents, and was among
the last to leave the building. He was thinking of the Idaho girl, but
he did not fail to notice what was going on, and he saw a group of
middle-aged or elderly men, the majority of them portly in figure and
autocratic in bearing, follow the trail of Jimmy Grayson. Although
familiar with the faces of only one or two in the group, he knew
instinctively who they were. It was a gathering of the great, moneyed
men of the party, eager to see the attitude of Grayson upon affairs that
concerned them intimately, and prompt to take action in accordance. They
were the guardians of "vested" interests, interests watched over as few
things in this world are, and they were resolved to see that they took
no harm. But the speech of the night had been general in its nature, a
preliminary as it were, and Harley judged that they would do nothing as
yet but skirmish upon the outskirts, keeping a wary eye for the main
battle when it should be joined.

"Did you notice them?" asked white-haired Tremaine in his ear.

"Oh yes," replied Harley, who knew at once what he meant; "I watched
them leave the hall."

"One gets to know them instinctively," said Tremaine. "I've seen them
like a herd of bull-dogs--if such animals travelled in herds--on the
heels of every presidential candidate for the last f