one green fringe of willows defiled by the garbage the citizens deposited
there, and the most lenient stranger could have seen no grace or beauty in
it. Yet, like many another place of the kind, it was destined to rise to
prosperity and fame.

The depot was thronged that afternoon. Store and hotel keeper, citizens in
white shirts and broadcloth, jostled blue-shirted cattle men, while here
and there a petty politician consulted with the representative of a
Western paper. The smoke of cigars drifted everywhere, and the listless
heat was stirred by the hum of voices eager and strident. It was evident
that the assembly was in an expectant mood, and there was a murmur of
approbation when one newspaper man laid hold of Grant.

"I couldn't light on you earlier, but ten minutes will see us through," he
said. "We'll make a half-page of it if you'll let me have your views. New
epoch in the country's history! The small farmer the coming king! A
wood-cut of the man who brought the first plough in."

Larry Grant laughed a little. "There are quite a few ahead of me, and if
you spread my views the barons would put their thumb on you and squeeze
you flat," he said. "On the other hand, it wouldn't suit me if you sent
them anything I told you to publish."

The man appeared a trifle embarrassed. "The rights of the Press are sacred
in a free country, sir," he said.

"Well," said Grant drily, "although I hope it will be, this country isn't
quite free yet. I surmise that you don't know that the office of your
contemporary farther east was broken into a few hours ago, and an article
written by a friend of mine pulled out of the press. The proprietor was
quietly held down upon the floor when he objected. You will hear whether I
am right or wrong to-morrow."

What the man would have answered did not appear, for just then somebody
shouted, and a trail of smoke swept up above the rim of the prairie. It
rose higher and whiter, something that flashed dazzlingly grew into shape
beneath it, and there was a curious silence when the dusty cars rolled
into the little station. It was followed by a murmur as an elderly man in
broad white hat and plain store clothing, and a plump, blue-eyed young
woman, came out upon the platform of a car. He wore a pair of spectacles
and gazed about him in placid inquiry, until Grant stepped forward. Then
he helped the young woman down, and held out a big, hard hand.

"Mr. Grant?" he said.

Grant nodded, and rai