e're due at Weepin' Water," replied the cousin, "at eleven to-night,
but I cal'late it'll be nigher twelve when we strike the town. You see,
this is a special train, runnin' on any old time, an' it's liable now
and then to get laid out a half an hour or more. But, anyhow, we ought
to beat the Denver Express, which is due at twelve-thirty in the
mornin', an' stops ten minutes at the water-tank. It connects at Denver
with the 'Frisco Express, an' I guess it's the train that Billy will
take."

"Does the Denver Express stop at Kalapoosa?"

"Yes. Kalapoosa ain't nothin' but a little bit of a place, but the
Pawnee branch line comes in there, and the express gets some passengers
off it. Say, mister, what's up?"

But Harley evaded a direct answer, having now all the information he
wished. He went back to the next car and wrote this despatch:

"KALAPOOSA.
"SUSAN PLOVER,--Take to-day's Denver Express and get off to-night
at Weeping Water. You will find me at Grayson's speaking, standing
just in front of him. Don't fail to come. Will explain everything
to you then.
"WILLIAM PLOVER."

Harley looked at this message with satisfaction. "I guess I'm a forger,"
he mused; "but as the essence of wrong lies in the intention, I'm doing
no harm."

He stopped at the next station, prepaid the message, and, standing by,
saw with his own eyes the operator send it. Then he returned to the
train and resumed his work with fresh zest.

And he had plenty to do. He had seen Jimmy Grayson make great displays
of energy, but his vitality on this terrible day was amazing. On and on
they went, right into the red eye of the sun. The hot rays poured down,
and the dust whirled over the plain, entering the car in clouds, where
it clothed everything--floors, seats, and men alike--until they were a
uniform whitey-brown. It crept, too, into Harley's throat and stung his
eyelids, but at each new speech the candidate seemed to rise fresher and
stronger than ever, and at every good point he made the volleys of
applause rose like rifle-shots.

Harley, at the close of a speech late in the day, sought his new friend,
Plover. The little man was crushed down in a seat, looking very gloomy.
Harley knew that he was thinking of Kalapoosa, the spell of Grayson's
eloquence being gone for the moment.

"Tired, Mr. Plover?" said Harley, pu