he cowered in the lee of a little building, that he might shelter
himself from the bitter wind that was searching him to the marrow.

Time passed. The speaker never faltered. A half-hour, an hour, and his
voice was still full and mellow, nor had a soul left the crowd. Grayson
himself seemed to feel a new access of strength from some hidden source,
and his form expanded as he denounced the Trusts and the Robber Barons,
and all the other iniquities that he felt it his duty to impale, but he
never took his eyes from Plover; to him he was now talking with a force
and directness that he had not equalled before. Time went on, and, as if
half remembering some resolution, Plover's hand stole towards the
little old silver watch that he carried in the left-hand pocket of his
waistcoat. But just at that critical moment Grayson uttered the magical
name, Wall Street, and Plover's hand fell back to his side with a jerk.
Then Grayson rose to his best, and tore Wall Street to tatters.

A whistle sounded, a bell rang, and a train began to rumble, but no one
took note of it save Harley. The two-ten on the branch line to connect
with the 'Frisco Express on the B. P. was moving out, and he breathed a
great sigh of relief. "One gone," he said to himself; "now for the
accommodation freight."

The speech continued, but presently Grayson stopped for a hasty drink of
water. Harley trembled. He was afraid that Grayson was breaking down,
and his fears increased when he saw Plover's eyes leave the speaker's
face and wander towards the station. But just at that moment the
candidate caught the little man.

"Listen to me!" thundered Grayson, "and let no true citizen here fail to
heed what I am about to tell him."

Plover could not resist the voice and those words of command. His
thoughts, wandering towards the railroad station, were seized and
brought back by the speaker. His eyes were fixed and held by Grayson,
and he stood there as if chained to the spot.

Time became strangely slow. The accommodation freight must be more than
ten minutes late, Harley thought. He looked at his watch, and found that
it was not due to leave for five minutes yet. So he settled himself to
patient waiting, and listened to Grayson as he passed from one national
topic to another. He saw, too, that the lines in the speaker's face were
growing deeper and deeper, and he knew that he must be using his last
ounces of strength. His soul was stirred with pity. Yet Grayson