id was to wave a
paper in the air and shout gleefully:--

"He's in, boys! He's in! Vernock is on the map at last. Hip-hip-hurrah,
for John Royce Pederstone, M.L.A.!"

The news was received with yells of delight, cat-calls and some real
cowboy war-whoops. When the commotion subsided, Ben Todd continued.

"Our new member is coming in on the stage from Kelowna at six-thirty.
The band is going to be there, so don't forget to be there too and
give him a rouser. The ladies are busy already at the town hall.
Supper at seven-thirty and a dance at eighty-thirty till the cows come
home. Put on your glad rags, bring your women folks and whoop her up
for a fare-you-well."

Thus relieved of his effervescence, Ben Todd threw his slang overboard
and started in to a political speech in good English, on the immense
possibilities of the Valley in which they were privileged to dwell;
the era of prosperity just ahead--in fact, with some already reached;
on the increasing demand for property everywhere, the consequent
rising values and the prospect of early wealth to the present holders
of land; haranguing the good-natured crowd on the outstanding
qualities of John Royce Pederstone, their new member; on the wonderful
things he would do for the Valley in the matter of irrigation,
railroads, public buildings and everything else; eulogising on the
tremendous help Mayor Brenchfield had given with his widespread
influence and his virile oratory during the final whirlwind tour over
the Valley; and last but not least, dwelling on the unfailing support
the new member had received from the greatest of British Columbia's
inland newspapers, _The Vernock and District Advertiser_.

Phil had no time to wait to hear all of it. He threaded his way
through the crowd and back to the smithy. He had just got his coat off
and his sleeves rolled up, when Sol Hanson swaggered in in great
style. He was dressed in a loud-checked summer suit, which fitted him
only where it touched him. Every button on it was buttoned and
straining, and in places the cloth was stretched to bursting
point--for no ordinary-sized suit ever fitted Sol Hanson; and, never
thinking of such a disloyalty as sending out of the Valley for his
clothes, he had, perforce, to content himself with the biggest suit he
could obtain in the Vernock stores.

Sol had a black bowler hat, three sizes too small for him, sitting
jauntily on the back of his head. His great shock of fair hair was
stream