red the guide to the correspondent, "I've heard
some great speeches in my time, but to-night's was the greatest."

The candidate spoke the next day at Crow's Wing, and his audience was
delighted. But Jim was right. The speech was not as great as the one he
had made at Queen City.

XV

WORDS BY THE WAY

Rumors of the adventure in the dead city had spread throughout the
little mountain town in which Jimmy Grayson made his speech the day
after the stop in Queen City, and when he began the return journey an
escort, from which all the bandits in the wilds of the Rocky Mountains
would have turned aside, was ready for him. It was a somewhat noisy
band, but orderly and full of enthusiasm, secretly wishing that a second
attempt would be made, and their devotion to Jimmy Grayson and his cause
found an answering sympathy in Harley.

They had passed the night in Crow's Wing, and the start was made when
the first sunlight brought a sudden uplifting of a white world into a
dazzling burst of blue and yellow and red. But no more snow was falling,
and those who knew said that the day would continue fair.

Sylvia Morgan had not been present at the speech the night before. Even
she, bred amid hardships and dangers, was forced to admit that her
nerves were somewhat unstrung, and she rested quietly in a warm room at
the hotel. Harley knocked once on her door, and received the reply that
she was all right. Then he turned away and went slowly down the hall,
thoughtful, and, for the first time in many days, thoroughly
understanding himself. To the world, when the world should hear of it,
the candidate would always be the central figure in the episode of the
dead city, but Harley knew that their adventure in the old hotel was
more momentous to him than it had been to the candidate. His doubts and
his hesitation were gone; he knew what Sylvia Morgan represented to him,
and with that knowledge came a certain peace; it would have been a
greater peace had not the shadow of "King" Plummer been so dark.

When Sylvia reappeared for the return there was nothing to indicate that
she had ever been tired or nervous. She seemed to Harley the incarnation
of fresh, young life, and there was a singular softness and gentleness
in her manner, all the more winning because she had let it appear more
rarely hitherto. She held out her hand to Harley.

"You see that I have passed through our adventure without harm to my
nerves," she said.

"I knew