d, as far as was
possible within the limited confines of a train, he avoided Sylvia. He
did not wish to see her, because he was strengthening himself to carry
out a great resolution which he meant to take. In this crisis he turned
to only one person, and that was Mr. Heathcote, who he felt would give
him advice that was right and true.

When Harley told Mr. Heathcote of his purpose, the committeeman's face
became grave, but he said, "It is the hard thing for you to do, although
it is the best thing." An hour later, Harley sent to his editor in New
York a despatch, asking to be recalled; he said there had arisen
personal reasons which would make him valueless for the rest of the
campaign, and he felt that the _Gazette_ would be the gainer if he were
transferred to another field of activity.

Harley felt a deep pang, and he did not attempt to disguise it from
himself, when he sent this telegram, but after it was gone his
conscience came to his relief, although he still avoided the presence of
Sylvia with great care. But the pang was repeated many times, as he sat
silent among his companions and calculated how he could leave them that
night and get a train for New York in the morning.

He was still sitting among them about the twilight hour when the
conductor handed him a telegraphic despatch, and Harley knew that it was
from his editor, who had a high appreciation of his merits, both
personal and professional. The message was brief and pointed. It said:
"Can't understand your request for a transfer. Your despatches from the
campaign best work you have ever done; not only have all news, but write
from the inside; you present the candidate as he is. Have telegraphed
Mr. Grayson asking if there is any quarrel, and in reply he makes
special request that you represent _Gazette_ with him to the end. Stay
till you are sent for, and don't bother me again."

Harley read it over a second time. Despite himself he smiled, and he
smiled because he felt a throb of pleasure. "Good old chief," he said,
and he understood now that a refusal of his request was a hope that he
had dared not utter to himself. But he knew that he should have taken
the great risk.

He showed the despatch to Mr. Heathcote, and the committeeman was
sincerely glad.

"Your editor has done his duty," he said.

Mr. Grayson did not allude to the subject, and Harley respected his
silence, although devoutly grateful for the reply that he had made.

Other telegr