got up out of the broken chair and buttoned his coat.

"I needn't take any more of your time just now," he said. "I merely
wanted to know how far you'd go if somebody should happen along at the
last moment and give you a plain map of the road."

"We'll go as far, and drive as hard, as any newspaper this side of the
Missouri River. But we've got to have the facts--don't forget that."

Blount was turning to go, but he faced around again sharply.

"Do you mean to tell me, Blenkinsop, that you don't know, as well as you
know you're alive, that this campaign is honeycombed with deals and
trades and dishonesty and trickery in every legislative district?" he
demanded.

Again the ghastly smile which was only a deepening of the natural
furrows flitted across the editor's face.

"Of course, I know it," he returned. "But you'll excuse me if I say
that I scarcely expected to have the railroad company's field-manager
come and tell me about it."

Blount's grim smile was a match for the editorial face-wrinkling. "You
are like a good many others, Blenkinsop; you see red when you hear the
noise of a railroad train. Perhaps, a little later, I may be able to
persuade you to see another color--yellow, for example. Let it go at
that. Good-night."

Once more in the avenue, Blount turned his steps toward the
Inter-Mountain. Since the campaign was now in its final week, the clans
were gathering in the capital, and the lobby of the great hotel was
filled with groups of caucussing politicians. Blount was halted half a
dozen times before he could make his way to the room-clerk's desk, and
the pumping process to which he was subjected at each fresh stoppage
would have amused him if the fiery resolution which was driving him on
had not temporarily killed his sense of humor. It was evident that, in
spite of all he had been saying and doing, a considerable majority of
the caucussers were still regarding him as his father's lieutenant. He
did not try very hard to remove the impression. It mattered little, in
the present crisis, what the various party henchmen thought or believed.

It was a sharp disappointment when the room-clerk told him that his
father and Mrs. Honoria and their guest had gone to the theatre. He was
keyed to the fighting-pitch, and he wanted to have the deciding word
spoken while his blood was up and there was still time to act. A glance
at the clock showed him that he had a full half-hour to wait; and, as
much to escape t