e butterfly wings of a
great hope. Look up, Still! You've friends with you till the end of the
fight."

Jim reached for Michael Dennis' hand and held it with both his own,
while he said: "Stay with me for a month or two, Uncle Denny. Don't go
away. I need you. I've neither wife nor father and I haven't the gift of
speech that makes a man friends."

Jim was off the next morning before daylight. Uncle Denny slept late and
while he was eating his breakfast, the ex-saloonkeeper, Murphy, came in.

"The Big Boss sent me up to spend the day with you, Mr. Dennis. He can't
get back till late in the afternoon. He told me to talk Project politics
to you. My name is Murphy. I'm timekeeper down below, but I've left the
job for a while for reasons of my own."

Uncle Denny pulled a chair out for Murphy and looked at him
thoughtfully.

"Do you know this jackal, Fleckenstein?"

"I do. The Boss showed me that letter. I suppose you know how a man like
Mr. Manning would take to a fellow like Fleckenstein?"

"Know!" snorted Uncle Denny. "Why, young fellow, I'd know Jim's
disembodied soul if I met it in an uninhabited desert."

Murphy raised his eyebrows. "You're Irish, I take it."

"You take it right."

"I was born in Dublin myself."

The two men shook hands and Murphy went on. "I told the Boss to forget
that letter. I know Fleckenstein. I know all his secrets just as I do
about every other man's in the valley. I know their shames and their
business grafts. In fact I know everything but the best side of 'em.
I've been in the saloon business in this valley for twenty years, Mr.
Dennis."

"Ah!" said Uncle Denny. "I understand now!"

"All I've got to do," said Murphy, "is to drop in on Fleckenstein and
mention this letter and suggest that my own information is what you
might call detailed. 'Twill be enough."

"Of course, it might not be Fleckenstein," said Dennis.

"Never mind! My warning will reach the proper party, if I go to
Fleckenstein," said Murphy. He smacked his lips over the cup of coffee
Mrs. Flynn set before him.

"And how came you to be helping the Boss instead of distributing booze?"
asked Uncle Denny.

"I was about ready to quit, anyhow," said Murphy. "A man gets sick of
crooked deals if you give him time. And time was when a man could keep a
saloon in this section and still be the leading citizen and his wife
could hold up her head with the banker's wife. That time's gone. I've
been thinking for a long tim