the disbarment proceedings, I promise you; and if he is not
amenable to reason--why--he does not own the Associated Press!" grimly.

"N-no. But I'm broke--ruined."

"What do you think a friend is for, Arthur?" said Danvers,
reproachfully. "If I had had any idea that financial matters were
troubling you, I would have fixed you out in short order!"

"I can't accept favors."

"Favors!" slightingly, to cover his feeling. "I shall be a
Shylock--never you fear!" Then a hand, heavy with love, fell on
Latimer's shoulder. "What is mine is yours, Arthur."

Within a week, not only were the judge's difficulties relieved, but the
proposed disbarment proceedings were dropped.

"I had means," said Danvers, sternly, when pressed for details by the
grateful judge, and none but Burroughs ever knew of the threatened
exposure.

Before Danvers returned to Fort Benton, he had the pleasure of seeing
Judge Latimer off for the East on legal work and knew that his low
mental condition was replaced by a more healthy one. Mrs. Latimer he
avoided. The gratitude of Winifred Blair came as a surprise, and
strengthened their sympathy in this common cause. He called to say
good-bye, but found her not at home, and he left Helena with a distinct
feeling of disappointment.

* * * * *

The state election in November gave Danvers a handsome majority, and it
was as the senator from Chouteau County that, early in the new year, he
attended the governor's reception to the legislators. He came in late,
and after paying his respects to the governor and his wife, wandered
rather helplessly toward the hall, seeing many whom he knew, but finding
little pleasure in their casual greetings.

Mr. and Mrs. Burroughs, as well as the Hon. William Moore, had come from
Butte to attend the brilliant society function. Other acquaintances who
now lived at the capital were among the guests whom Danvers recognized.
His sister he seldom saw, and the lack of any common interest between
them made it possible to meet her husband in only the most formal way.

Presently he saw Winifred Blair at the salad table, who, chancing to
look up from her task, smiled invitingly.

"May I not serve you with salad?" she asked, as he approached.

"If you will make the dressing," recalling their lunch of the late
summer.

"It is already dressed," laughed the girl.

"Then you will let me get you some punch; come with me for it."

She was perishing of