ot trying my hand at
lobbying," she added as an afterthought. "You mustn't think that. I'm
just interested in the political situation. And brother Charlie won't
talk politics with me any more than he'll recount his experiences as a
freighter."

"Charlie? Brother Charlie?" A dim memory revived. "I beg your pardon! Is
Scar Faced Charlie your brother?"

"Yes. Didn't you know?"

"Then you are the little girl----"

"Winifred. I thought you didn't recognize me, though I knew you at once.
But you would scarcely remember me, while I--you know you saved my
life."

"And to think that you have so changed--grown up! And that you are here!
I remember asking for you when Charlie was in Fort Benton, shortly after
I went there to live; but you were away at school. I don't recall ever
hearing your brother called Blair, though as a matter of fact I wasn't
thinking of your name. I was thinking of you!"

"What a pretty speech! And Mrs. Latimer is always telling what a
woman-hater you are!"

"I was not aware that I was of enough importance to be the subject of
Mrs. Latimer's strictures," replied Danvers, his brow contracting. "But
I believe I do have that reputation," he added, and smiled into her
unbelieving brown eyes.

"Moore is not running for office this year," said Danvers presently,
finding it easier to talk of matters politic.

"No. Charlie wants a place in the Senate--perhaps you know." She changed
the subject by asking, "Do you think that a man should ever vote for a
candidate not in his own party?"

"If he votes for the better man--especially in local politics--yes. Is
it a political crime in your eyes?"

"I believe most politicians think so." Miss Blair also resorted to
evasion.

They were joined by other guests, and the conversation became general.
The Honorable Mr. Moore, resplendent in a new dress suit, was saying
pleasant things to his hostess.

"What a lucky dog the judge is, my dear Mrs. Latimer! You would carry
off any situation. You deserve a wider field than this small Western
city."

"Really?" cooed the flattered lady.

As she moved away, Moore's glance followed her, and a look of sudden
inspiration illumined his shiny face. Wild Cat Bill, with his rotund
form, resembled a domesticated house cat far more than the agile
creature which had given him his frontier title. The incongruity struck
Danvers, and he smiled at Winifred Blair as she drifted to another part
of the room--a smile that she returne