tting a friendly hand on his
shoulder.

"A little bit," replied Plover.

"But it's a great day," continued Harley. "I tell you, old man, it's one
to be remembered. There never was such a campaign. The story of this
ride will be in all the papers of the United States to-morrow."

"Ain't he great! Ain't he great!" exclaimed Plover, brightening into
enthusiasm. "And don't he hit Wall Street some awful whacks?"

"He certainly is great," replied Harley. "But you wait until we get to
Weeping Water. That's the last stop, and he'll just turn himself loose
there. You mustn't miss a word."

"I won't," replied Plover. "I'll have time, because the Denver Express,
on which I'm going to 'Frisco, don't leave there till twelve-forty. No,
I won't miss the big speech at Weeping Water."

They reached Weeping Water at last, although it was full midnight, and
they were far behind time, and together they walked to the speaker's
stand.

Harley saw Plover in his accustomed place in the front rank, just under
the light of the torches, where he would meet the speaker's eye, his
face rapt and worshipful. Then he looked at his watch.

"Twelve-fifteen," he said to himself. "The Denver Express will be here
in another fifteen minutes, and Susan will fall on the neck of her
Billy."

Then he stopped to listen to Grayson. Never had Harley seen him more
earnest, more forcible. He knew that the candidate must be sinking from
physical weakness--his pale, drawn face showed that--but his spirit
flamed up for this last speech, and the crowd was wholly under the spell
of his powerful appeal.

Harley met, presently, the cousin, Sandidge.

"This is Grayson's greatest speech of the day," Harley said, "and how it
must please Mr. Plover!"

"That's so," replied Sandidge; "but Billy's all broke up over it."

"Why, what's the matter?" asked Harley, in sudden alarm.

"The Denver Express is nearly two hours and a half late--won't be here
until three, and at Denver it'll miss the 'Frisco Express; won't be
another for a day. So Billy, who's in a hurry to get to the coast--the
old Nick's got into him, I reckon--is goin' by the express on the B. P.;
the train on the branch line that goes out there at two-ten connects
with it, and so does the accommodation freight at two-forty. It's hard
on Billy--he hates to miss any of Jimmy Grayson's speeches, but he's
bound to go."

Harley was touched by real sorrow. He drew his pencil-pad from his
pocket, hastily wro