that they were
a handsome couple, and of an age. And this was a fact that did not give
the "King" pleasure. He did not dislike Harley; instead, he appreciated
his good qualities, but just then he regarded him with an unfriendly
glance; that reality of youth annoyed him. There was a glass on the
other side of the room, and the "King" looked at his own reflection. He
saw a large, powerful head and broad, strong features, the whole
expressing a man at the height of his powers, at the very flood-tide of
his strength. But it was not young. The hair was iron-gray, and there
were many deep lines in the face--not unhandsome lines, yet they were
lines.

"With all his shameless youth," were the "King's" unuttered thoughts, "I
could beat him at anything, except, perhaps, scribbling. I could live
and prosper where he would starve to death." And surging upon the "King"
came the memories of his long, triumphant, and joyous struggle with wild
nature. Then he approached the couple, and greeted Harley with the
good-nature that was really a part of him. Sylvia, with shining eyes,
told at second hand, though not with diminished effect, the story of the
night, and "King" Plummer was loud in his applause. He did not care
what criticism the supercilious might make, the act was to him
spontaneous and natural.

"But I don't see why you should have been with Jimmy Grayson then," he
said, frankly, to Harley. "You are an Easterner, new to these parts, and
it isn't right that just you should be along when the interestin' things
happen."

Harley could not help laughing at the naive remark, but he liked "King"
Plummer all the better for it. The "King," however, gave him no more
chance to talk alone that day with Sylvia. Mr. Plummer showed the
greatest regard for Miss Morgan's health and comfort, and did not try to
hide his solicitude; he was continually about her, arranging little
conveniences for the journey, and introducing Idaho topics, familiar to
them, but to which Harley was necessarily a stranger. The "King," with
his wide sense of Western hospitality, would not have done this at
another time, but in view of the close relationship between himself and
Sylvia he regarded it as pardonable.

The watchful Mrs. Grayson saw it all, and at first she regarded the
"King" with an approving eye, but by-and-by the approval changed to a
frown. There was something forced in his manner; it was just the least
bit unconvincing. It was clear to her that he