The summer sped hot and with but little rain. Some ten days before the state convention, the Doctor and Danvers went to Helena. A strong opposition to Judge Latimer's renomination had developed, which was not traceable to any definite source. Although Danvers avowed a dislike for politics, in reality he had the inherent instinct for political life characteristic of the upper-class Englishman, and he threw himself into the maelstrom with all his forces well in hand. Office-seeking was disgusting to him, but the fight for his friend seemed worth the effort.
In the midst of the political excitement, Mrs. Latimer gave a dinner-party, and Philip Danverscould not refuse his invitation without causing comment, and, what was of more consequence to his independent nature, wounding his friend Arthur. He had met Eva Latimer occasionally when they lived at Fort Benton, but had preferred to lure Arthur to his own quarters, or the doctor's office, for an old-time visit, rather than invade the formalities of the Latimer residence. Since his friend had been on the supreme bench Danvers had not often seen Eva, and now the great house in the suburbs of Helena—so much more elaborate than Latimer could afford, impressed him, as it had on previous calls, unpleasantly. It was not a home for Arthur; it was an establishment for social functions, and a burden of expense; yet Danvers knew it was the goal of Arthur's thoughts, where his little son awaited him at the close of the day.
Danvers rang the bell, not a moment too early; nevertheless he found the Western men standing self-conscious and ill at ease, waiting for the announcement of dinner. Arthur greeted him warmly, and Eva sparkled, smiled and chatted, moving among her guests and tactfully putting each at his best, while they waited for the last arrival—a Miss Blair, who was to be, so Philip learned, his own partner at dinner.
Presently the tardy one arrived, beautiful in her serene, straightforward gaze from under finebrows and a wealth of dark hair that caught threads of light even under the gas-jets, and made hurriedly breathless excuses to her hostess. Danvers was introduced to her immediately, and the dining-room was invaded.
"So awkward of me," she explained in an undertone. "I turned my ankle as I came across the lawn, and had to wait quite a bit before I could move. I was afraid at first I couldn't come to dinner, but I hated to disappoint Eva. Little Arthur must have left his hoop on the lawn, and I tripped on it. We live in the next house, and always come across lots. Doesn't that sound New England-y?" She laughed softly. "My brother says I'll never drop our Yankee phrases. I say pail for bucket, and path for trail, and the other day I said farm for ranch."
"Your voice has more ofOldEngland than of New England," said Danvers, appreciatively. He had not spoken before except to acknowledge Mrs. Latimer's hurried introduction.
"Oh, thank you!" Miss Blair smiled, frankly pleased. "Not that I'm a bit of an Anglo-maniac," she hastened to affirm, "but, do you know," she leaned toward Danvers in an amusingly confidential way, "I've always felt mortified over my throaty voice—that is, I used to be."
Philip smiled, a smile that but few had ever seen. He listened with enjoyment. Somethingin his companion's tacit belief that he would understand her feeling was wonderfully pleasing. He seemed taken into her confidence at once as being worthy, and it did not lessen his pleasure to observe that the Honorable William Moore, who sat at the left of Miss Blair, received only the most formal recognition, despite his effort at conversation, to the neglect of his own dinner partner.
Wit and merriment flashed from one to another, and all but the host seemed overflowing with animation. Although Latimer looked after the needs of his guests, he was often preoccupied.
"Why so silent, judge?" asked the doctor in a lull of conversation.
"I beg your pardon," Arthur apologized. "I fear I was rude. Perhaps I was trying to work out the salvation of my country—from my own point of view."
"Planning for re-nomination?" asked Moore, innocently.
"And your ankle?" asked Danvers of Miss Blair, under cover of the laugh that followed Moore's attempt at wit. "I hope that you are not suffering from it." His observant eye had noted the smooth contour of the girl's face, but as the moments passed the natural lack of high coloring seemed to grow more colorless.
"It hurts—a little," confessed the girl. "But it is of no consequence. Mrs. Latimer's dinner must not be marred by my blundering in the dark. I should have come by the walk."
"You are thoughtful." Danvers looked again at the girl, and wished for the first time that he could use the small talk of society. Politics was debarred from the table conversation, but when they were again in the parlors Miss Blair turned to Danvers.
"Aren't you the senator from Chouteau?"
"Not yet," smiled Philip.
"Oh, but you will be. My brother says so."
"I'm glad some one is optimistic. I'm afraid I shall not be the deciding party."
"Who will be our United States senator?"
"That is hard to tell. So many straws sticking out of the tangle make it difficult to prophesy which will be pulled out."
"Your party is so split up this year," said the girl. "Which wing are you affiliated with?"
This was not "small talk," as Danvers recognized with an amused feeling that he had not expected a lady to know anything outside his preconceived idea of feminine chat.
"Montana politics have no wings," he quibbled.
Miss Blair laughed. "Really, haven't you decided which of the candidates you'll support for United States senator?" She ran over the names.
"That's rather a leading question, isn't it?" evaded Philip. "If amanasked me, I'd give him no satisfaction. I will say to you, though, that I am going to do my best to send some one to Washington who is pledged to place community interests before his own."
"I did not mean to ask impertinent questions, or to cross-examine," quavered Miss Blair. "One who finds out anything from you must have taken his thirty-third degree in Masonry. I am not trying my hand at lobbying," she added as an afterthought. "You mustn't think that. I'm just interested in the political situation. And brother Charlie won't talk politics with me any more than he'll recount his experiences as a freighter."
"Charlie? Brother Charlie?" A dim memory revived. "I beg your pardon! Is Scar Faced Charlie your brother?"
"Yes. Didn't you know?"
"Then you are the little girl——"
"Winifred. I thought you didn't recognize me, though I knew you at once. But you would scarcely remember me, while I—you know you saved my life."
"And to think that you have so changed—grown up! And that you are here! I remember asking for you when Charlie was in Fort Benton, shortly after I went there to live; but you were away at school. I don't recall ever hearingyour brother called Blair, though as a matter of fact I wasn't thinking of your name. I was thinking of you!"
"What a pretty speech! And Mrs. Latimer is always telling what a woman-hater you are!"
"I was not aware that I was of enough importance to be the subject of Mrs. Latimer's strictures," replied Danvers, his brow contracting. "But I believe I do have that reputation," he added, and smiled into her unbelieving brown eyes.
"Moore is not running for office this year," said Danvers presently, finding it easier to talk of matters politic.
"No. Charlie wants a place in the Senate—perhaps you know." She changed the subject by asking, "Do you think that a man should ever vote for a candidate not in his own party?"
"If he votes for the better man—especially in local politics—yes. Is it a political crime in your eyes?"
"I believe most politicians think so." Miss Blair also resorted to evasion.
They were joined by other guests, and the conversation became general. The Honorable Mr. Moore, resplendent in a new dress suit, was saying pleasant things to his hostess.
"What a lucky dog the judge is, my dear Mrs. Latimer! You would carry off any situation.You deserve a wider field than this small Western city."
"Really?" cooed the flattered lady.
As she moved away, Moore's glance followed her, and a look of sudden inspiration illumined his shiny face. Wild Cat Bill, with his rotund form, resembled a domesticated house cat far more than the agile creature which had given him his frontier title. The incongruity struck Danvers, and he smiled at Winifred Blair as she drifted to another part of the room—a smile that she returned with a friendly nod of farewell. He did not see her again that evening, and not long afterward he and the doctor bade their hostess good-night.
"Not sorry you went, are you, Phil?" asked the doctor, as they walked to their hotel. "Goodness knows, Arthur and I labored hard enough to get you there."
"I have always disliked dinner parties." The observant doctor noticed the wording of the reply and drew his own conclusions.
"Come in and have a smoke with me," said the doctor, as they reached his room, and he bent over to insert the key. For years it had been Danvers' habit to drop into the physician's office during the late afternoon or evening, to talk or smoke in silence, as the case may be. To-nighthe followed the doctor, and sat down for a half-hour's chat.
"That was a fetching gown that Mrs. Latimer wore; I don't envy Arthur the bills!" remarked the astute doctor, as he filled his pipe.
"I didn't notice," was Philip's indifferent reply. "I never know what women have on."
"And how lovely Miss Blair looked in blue!"
"Soft rose!" came the correction from the man who never noticed.
The doctor's mouth twitched, but he smoked on in silence, and when he bade Philip good-night he gave him a God-bless-you pat on the shoulder, which the coming senator from Chouteau interpreted solely as due to his long friendship.
Danvers was wakeful that night, and a name sang through his drowsy brain until he roused, impatient.
"It was only her voice that interested me!" he exclaimed aloud. "She's probably like the rest of them." The nettle of one woman's fickleness had stung so deeply when he first took to the primrose path of love that he had never gone farther along the road leading to the solving of life's enigma, and now the overgrowth of other interests had almost obliterated the trail.
Although the days at Helena were busy ones for Philip Danvers, he found time before the convention to make his dinner call at the Latimer's. On the shaded lawn before the house he found Miss Blair entertaining little Arthur while she kept watch over the baby asleep in its carriage.
"Mrs. Latimer is away for the afternoon. She will be sorry to have missed you," exclaimed the girl, as Arthur ran to greet the visitor, always a favorite.
"You called on Aunt Winnie and me! Didn't you? Didn't you?" chanted the boy, tugging at the hand of the visitor.
"May I stay?" asked Danvers, smiling at the eager little man. "And how is the sprain?"
"Of course you may," assented Winifred brightly. "And as for the sprained ankle, wicked and deceitful creature that I am, I made it the excuse for not going with Mrs. Latimer. Good people, really good people, would think that I merited punishment for not doing my duty in my small sphere of life. Yet see! Instead of that I'm rewarded—hereyoucome to entertain Arthur and me!"
"It is a bad example!" decided Danvers, with a stern eye that did not deceive anyone. He was amused at her naïveté, and had no wish to decry such open good-will.
"But I do limp! Don't I, Arthur?" Miss Blair appealed to the child, gravely.
He nodded and stooped to examine the low,narrow shoe, peeping from her sheer summer gown. Winifred pulled the foot back with a sudden flush. "I am, perhaps, helping along in this world as much as though I were playing cards, by staying with the children instead of their being with the maid," she said hastily.
Philip leaned over to look at the baby. Arthur pulled the parasol to one side proudly.
"Her name is Winifred," he announced.
"I believe I never saw a really little baby before," said Danvers, looking with awe at the tiny sleeper. "My sister and I were near of an age; we grew up together. Howlittlebabies are!"
Miss Blair laughed. "Winifred is a very nice baby—big for her few months of life. I'm very proud to be her godmother." Danvers watched as she pulled the fleecy covering around the sleeping child. With the act a maternal look came into her lovely face, unconscious as she was of scrutiny, and a thrill of manhood shook him deeply.
"So you did not care for the party?" inquired the caller, presently. "I thought all ladies adored card parties and enjoyed fighting for the prizes."
"Play cards when the mountains look like that?" Winifred rejoined. "It would be a sacrilege!"
"I do not care for cards myself," agreed Danvers.
"Wouldn't you like to be out there?" Winifred seemed scarcely to have heard him.
Following the direction of her gaze, he thought her wide-flung gesture a deserved tribute to the view. The Prickly Pear Valley lay before them, checkered in vivid green or sage-drab as water had been given or withheld. The Scratch Gravel Hills jutted impertinently into the middle distance; while on the far western side of the plain the Jefferson Range rose, tier on tier, the distances shading the climbing foothills, until the Bear's Tooth, a prominent, jagged peak, cleft the azure sky. A stretch of darker blue showed where the Missouri River, itself unseen, broke through the Gate of the Mountains. The view took one away from the affairs of men. On their side of the valley towered Mount Helena and Mount Ascension with auriferous gulches separating and leading up to the main range of the Rockies. As the foothills sank into the valley the gulches, washed of their golden treasure, were transformed into the streets of Helena—irregular, uneven, unpaved often; in the residence part of the town young trees ambitiously spread their slender branches; the main street and intersecting steeper ones were bordered with business blocks as ambitious, in their way, as the transplanted trees.
"'I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,'"quoted Winifred, softly. "What a singer David was. But these mountains seem worthy of the grand old psalms."
"Yes," assented Danvers, simply; and he liked her better on this second meeting than he had at the dinner party—a crucial test where a woman is concerned.
"I never weary of looking," she breathed.
"I think—I never should, either," he declared, and looked—at her!
Unconscious of his gaze, she absently jogged the carriage while the baby slept, and Arthur, holding Danvers' hand, waited his turn.
"Mamma hates Helena," was his contribution.
"Sh-h-h!" warned Winifred.
"Then if I can't talk, make Uncle Phil show us a good time." The lad turned appealing, beautiful eyes toward Danvers, so like his father's that Philip drew him closer. "Tell us about the Crow Indians stealing the Blackfeet ponies." This was a favorite story.
"Not to-day, laddie," refused Philip, gently. "Miss Blair would not——"
"Yes, I should," contradicted Winifred.
"Aunt Winnie will just love to hear that story," affirmed Arthur. "Ido! She tells me lots of stories. She was telling one when you came—the one I like the best of all. It had a be-u-ti-ful trooper in it who rescued her from awater-y grave!" The child's recital was as melodramatic as his words. "He held her just so!" Arthur illustrated by a tight clasp of the embarrassed girl. "Now, you tell one."
Philip saw that Winifred had a real interest in the old days, and while relieving her embarrassment by gratifying the little story-teller, he spoke of the Whoop Up Country.
Winifred had the rare gift of bringing out the best in people. Danvers needed such incentive; although denying it, he was a good conversationalist. Now his whole being responded to this clear-eyed, pleasant-voiced girl who sat in the low rocker beside him. She would understand. The few times he had essayed to speak to others of his service in the Mounted Police, he had met with such indifference that the words were killed; and with the exception of the Doctor, Danvers had never shared his experiences with any one. To the women he had met in Helena and Fort Benton that lonely life had brought a shudder, and to the men unpleasant reminiscences. So far as his associates of the early days were concerned it was a closed chapter.
To the child Winifred, Danvers had been a hero—handsome, debonair; to the woman Winifred, he found himself talking as easily as to the little girl who listened years before. The life at Fort Macleod was the one subject that would winDanvers from his silence, and in the next hour Miss Blair had good reason to think that she would not exchange this call for all the card parties in the world.
Presently he challenged, "You are bored?"
"I've been delightfully entertained. It is all fascinating to me. Charlie will seldom speak of the freighting days, and I remember very little of Fort Benton."
"The old place isn't big enough for most of us. The Macleod men are scattered, too."
"Have you ever been back?"
"Never! I could not bear to see the country fenced in, the old cottonwood barracks replaced, the railroad screaming in the silence, and Colonel Macleod dead. No, I shall never go back."
The baby awoke and diverted them, and soon the maid came for both children. Half-way to the house little Arthur ran back.
"I'm going to be a Police when I grow up," he announced. "I prayed about it last night. I know God'll fix it. I put it right to Him. It was peachy!"
"Arthur is always saying the drollest things," remarked Miss Blair as the child ran out of hearing distance. "Yesterday he told me that when he went fishing with his papa his fish wouldn't hook on tight."
"I'm afraid he'll find the same difficulty laterin life," laughed Philip, and rose to say good-afternoon.
"I will not wait longer for Mrs. Latimer, but leave my card," he decided. "The doctor will be wondering what has become of me."
But the doctor found him very silent over his pipe that evening. The sight of Arthur Latimer's little son had wakened the old longing, the inborn desire of every Englishman to bestow the ancestral name upon the heir of his house. Philip Danvers! For eight generations a son had borne the name. Would he be the last to inherit it in this far country that had come to be his own?
On the Sunday spent in Helena the doctor proposed to Danvers that they give over politics and call at the Blairs. "They won't stand on formalities, and we both need to get our minds out of this political struggle. I'll be glad when I can go home to Fort Benton!"
"Charlie seems to be doing well in Helena," remarked Philip, as they approached the house next Judge Latimer's.
"He's up, then down. He isn't much of a business man, and hasn't head enough to keep in the swim. He worships that sister of his, and just now he's doing pretty well. I fancy that she knows nothing of his financial standing."
"I imagine Miss Blair knows more aboutCharlie's difficulties than either you or he give her credit for. She sees more than she tells."
The callers found brother and sister on the wide porch, and after the greetings and a half-hour of general conversation, Charlie Blair asked the doctor if he would come inside and give a little advice on a private matter.
"Good," cried Winifred. "For once I'm glad that Charlie can think of nothing but business. Now I can talk to Mr. Danvers."
"See that you do!" commanded Philip. "Yesterday I went away feeling like a garrulous dame; it is your turn to-day."
Winifred affected to reflect. "What shall be my theme—art, music, literature or our mutual friends?"
"Tell me of yourself."
"As a subject of conversation, that would be soon exhausted. Women, you know, are too idle to be good; too conventional to be bad."
"Indeed!" returned the cattleman, catching her mood. "I have known many women of that description. Pardon me, but I had imagined you were a different type."
"You say the nicest things! I feel that we are going to be very good friends."
Danvers bowed. "Thank you. I think we are."
She returned his frank gaze, and settled herself comfortably for an afternoon's enjoyment.
"Now talk!" she in turn commanded, with the sweeping imperialism she sometimes manifested toward a chance companion.
"I refuse. It is your turn."
"How you like to put on the mask of silence! Do you bolt the door to everyone but the doctor and Judge Latimer?"
"Thoughts are hard things to express, unless one forgets himself, and they come spontaneously."
"Go ahead and forget yourself, then!"
"You are inexorable," laughing. "Your demand makes me think of an Indian Council. Of course, you know that when they meet to discuss problems, they sit silent for hours. The avowed purpose of conferring paralyzes their tongues, apparently, as you have paralyzed mine. If I ever had an idea I could not produce it now."
"The Quakers have a prettier custom. They sit in silence till the spirit moves. I will be the spirit that moves you;" and so adroitly did she continue that unconsciously the man spoke of more serious things—his likings, his beliefs.
"Why did you become an American?" she asked at length, the question that had often puzzled her.
"My mother was an American." His voicetook a note of tenderness which Winifred remembered long. "But when I left the service it was with no thought of choosing this as my country. I had no desire to return to England, however, and the chances for business seemed greater on this side of the line."
The girl's deep eyes gazed directly into his with flattering intentness.
"And so the years slipped by until I found that my interests were all here, and I could not leave, even if I had cared to. Isn't that true, judge?" he remarked, as Arthur Latimer came across the lawn. "You wanted to make a voter of me, for your own dark purposes——"
"Philip always hits the bull's-eye," admitted the judge, interrupting with a menacing gesture of affection at the implication. "You would not leave the State. That's just it. The most of us came into the Northwest, as we thought, to make a fortune and go back East or South to enjoy it. But whether we have made money or not, we discovered that we are here to stay. The old ties in other communities are gone. Old friends are dead. Old memories faded. We aren't all such enthusiasts as the doctor, who lives at Fort Benton for sheer love of the place, but——"
"I know just how he feels," cried Winifred, quick to defend her old friend. "I could go back there myself to live. We have a love-feast everytime we speak of the dear old town, and that's every time I see him."
"I think," said Danvers, slowly, making sure of his words, "that I have come to love Montana more than my native land, though that was certainly very far from my feeling when I came back to Fort Benton as a civilian, and asked for work. I told the man that I was an Englishman, but I made a mistake. There was a long list of applicants ahead of me—Americans—to whom preference would be given. I thanked the manager, but from that day I determined to succeed without being forced into citizenship. I did succeed, and of my own choice I became an American!"
"Words, words! What are you talking about?" the doctor asked, breezily, as he appeared with Blair. "Let us into your charmed circle. I, for one, promise to be silent. Any occasion gains dignity by having an audience, and I'll promise not to be critical. I will consider your youth."
After a general laugh, the judge gave the trend of the conversation, and the doctor quite forgot his promise. The discussion of good citizenship became general, and presently Philip was appealed to for testimony on the subject of foreigners becoming naturalized.
"I hardly think I can tell you much that you do not already know," he said, "concerning Englishmen becoming American citizens. We mustgive the inhabitants of every great European country the credit for believing their own country to be the greatest. With the possible exception of Russia and Turkey, I am inclined to the opinion that they think their liberty is not infringed upon, any more than it should be; and they are, I suppose, contented with their lot. John Bull has every reason to think himself a favored being. He is proud of the institutions of his country—royalty, aristocracy. The knight, the 'squire, the merchant, manufacturer, skilled workman and laborer—each has his place. The laborer, cap in hand, bows to his master. So, too, aristocracy bends the knee to royalty—being taught to keep allotted rank in society, and to defer to those above. What is more, all have a supreme regard for the law itself, as well as for those who administer it."
Winifred listened. Her bright, upturned face was an incentive for Danvers to continue.
"When we Englishmen come to this country," he said, "knowing but little of the government, we care nothing for it. We generally come to better our condition financially, not politically. When we see the actions of political heelers at elections we are often astounded. We hear of Tweed, of Tammany, and it is not surprising that we have a certain contempt for American politics. If we watch very closely we see men electedto office who are entirely incompetent, and we even have suspicions of their honesty."
The girl laughed lightly.
"You choose to be very sarcastic," she commented. But Danvers had more to say.
"As time goes on we watch events, comparing the government of this country with that of our own. Little by little we are brought to feel that these States are being fairly well governed, after all. In my own case, when Judge Latimer asked me to take an active part in politics, I hesitated. But I had cast my lot in Fort Benton, and it seemed wrong to accept all that America had to give with no return from myself."
The Anglo-American looked around his circle of friends. Never before had he expressed himself so fully. He could not understand how he had been beguiled. But never before had he felt that a woman's brain would grasp every reason adduced, and understand—that was it; he felt that he was understood!
"Montana politics are like an Englishman's game—high. They smell to heaven," said Charlie Blair, after the men had further discussed the political situation.
"I don't believe that Montana is any worse than many other States," defended Winifred, quickly.
"We are building history," said the doctor,dreamily, "and history repeats itself. As the powerful nobles of Greece and Rome dictated harsh terms to the common people and ruined their nations, so it will be with us. Machine politics, money and whiskey, millionaires and monopolies—truly the outlook is depressing."
"You are not usually so pessimistic, doctor," reproached Winifred.
"Well"—Blair's contented philosophy was refreshing—"politicians seldom get more than one-fourth their money's worth, when they use it unlawfully. Three-quarters of it is wasted by giving it to hangers-on."
"Public men should be unhampered by demands for spoils."
"They invite the demands, Phil," replied the doctor, dryly. "If it were not openly known that a man could get a position as a corporation lawyer, or timekeeper in a big mine, or some other inducement, do you think any would-be senator, for instance, would be troubled by distributing 'spoils of office'?"
"He would not be troubled with superfluous votes, either," remarked the judge, caustically.
"Oh," cried Winifred, with a vision of what might be, "if only the candidates and the voters could be brought to see that public office is a public trust; that the honor of election is enough!"
"That is the way it is in England," answeredDanvers. "There, for instance, a man is elected to a city council for his personal fitness and ability to hold office. No questioning of his political affiliations. No perquisites—no privileges. Only the honor of his fellow citizens, which is enough. It is the same in other positions, even in Parliament."
"Here comes Mrs. Latimer." Miss Blair rose and advanced to meet her friend. "I see by your eyes, Eva," she said gaily, "that I have to placate you for monopolizing all the men in sight."
Mrs. Latimer laughed, and the circle widened to admit her.
"You are talking of politics," she accused, lazily. "Either that or of Fort Macleod."
"Madam," the doctor affected remorse, "we were talking of politics. But when you burst upon our enchanted vision, as beautiful as when you dazzled us sixteen——"
"Oh, don't!" shuddered Eva. "Why—why will men be so exact as to dates? Why not say 'some years ago'?" She looked around rebelliously. "I will not grow old, even if you, dear doctor, have silvery hair, and Arthur's is growing thin, and Mr. Blair—well, I'll admit the years have dealt kindly with Charlie and Mr. Danvers."
"And with you, dear," added her husband, loyally.
"How do you like my gown?" asked Eva, turning to Miss Blair as the men began to talk of other subjects.
"It's lovely! You are so artistic! It must please your husband to have you so perfectly gowned."
"Oh, Arthur—as for one's husband, I simply can't imagine dressing for one man."
"I can," breathed the girl, her thoughts afield. But the sentiment was lost upon Eva.
"If I lived nine miles from nowhere I would dress and walk among the cow corrals or on the range for the cowboys—if there were no other men to admire me!"
"You say such dreadful things," Winifred answered, gently, "but I know you do not mean them."
"But I do!" wilfully.
"I have grown away from the East," the doctor was saying, when the ladies again listened. "I want more room than the crowded cities can give.
"'Room, room to turn 'round in,To breathe and be free.'
"'Room, room to turn 'round in,To breathe and be free.'
"I fancy the Puritans wanted physical as well as religious freedom, if the truth were known." He mused; then suddenly:
"How can you make one who has never experienced itfeel the West?"
"You can't," laughed Latimer. "I tried once,but my companion looked bored, and I stopped. 'Oh, go on,' he said, politely; 'youare interested!'"
When the merriment had subsided, Eva exclaimed:
"I'm sick and tired of the West! I want to live in New York, Washington, abroad—anywhere but Montana!"
"I wish that we might, dear," said the judge, patiently; "perhaps we can some day."
"By the way," remarked Eva, her thoughts flying inconsequently to another subject, "I've promised to read a paper on 'The Judiciary of Montana' before our club to-morrow. Tell me all about it, Arthur, and I'll write the essay this evening." She looked at the group in surprise. What had she said to raise such shouts?
As soon as her husband could speak he wiped his eyes.
"It's a pretty big subject for me to discuss now," he said; "but I'll write something. That will be better than confusing your mind with it. These club-women," he went on indulgently, addressing the others, "are so fervid—so much in earnest."
"Are you a club-woman, too?" the doctor asked Winifred, and Danvers waited her reply.
"I used to be," dolefully. "But I am a renegade, or a degenerate. I was allowed to join theclassic circle of a Dante Club, and for two years we (perhaps I'd better say I) agonized over the prescribed study—the course was sent out by the university. But when the third year arrived I wearied of well-doing. I was horrid, I know; but the subject was remote as to time, and dead as to issues. I like live topics, real issues—Montana politics, for instance."
"You might have joined the Current Events Club," reproached Mrs. Latimer. "To be sure, it's sometimes hard to find topics for the next meeting, but we get along. Club work broadens our minds and widens our sphere," she concluded, with a pretty air of triumph.
"And when topics fail—to write about," put in Blair, "you can talk. You ladies always find enough to talk about!"
"Why, Charlie Blair! You're just as horrid as you used to be!" responded Eva, hotly.
"Didn't I hear something about one lady's stabbing to death another lady's imported hat, just on account of too much talk at one of the club meetings?" Blair was persistent.
"That story about the hat has been grossly exaggerated! It is nothing but gossip."
"'Current Events,' too," murmured Charlie, properly deprecatory.
Not long afterwards Danvers made the first move toward breaking up the group.
"Must you be going?" Winifred rose also. "I suppose I shall not see you again before the Assembly meets. You'll be sure to be here then, as senator from Chouteau."
"Thank you for your optimism. May I call?"
"Certainly. I should feel hurt if you didn't. We are friends of many years' standing, you know."
Never before had he asked to call upon a lady. The importunity had always been on the other side.
Late in the evening the doctor came to Danvers' room for the good-night call; but the talk was wholly of Judge Latimer's interests.
"I'm afraid that Arthur will have a hard pull," regretted the old friend, "but we will do all we can for him. I've had a telegram calling me back to Fort Benton, and must leave on the midnight train."
Danvers walked to the little depot, a mile from the city proper, with his friend, and after the train pulled out he again thought of Winifred.
As he passed, on his way back to town, the huge piles of loose rock that the miners had left in their sluicing for gold in bygone days, his thoughts followed the girl back into the long years since he had first met her on theFar West—a child eager for sympathy. It was odd that he had never seen her in all that time—the yearswhen he had unconsciously longed for friendship, and the sight of a woman's face—a white face. The rings from his cigar melted around him, softening his face until it took on the boyish fairness of youth.
The evening before the convention found Judge Latimer at the club in conference with his friends. His nomination seemed doubtful, yet there was a possibility that he might win, and Danvers was working hard and hopefully.
The Honorable William Moore had arrived from Butte that day, and as he greeted various members of the club, watched for a chance to approach Judge Latimer.
"What are the prospects?" he inquired, after a chat on politics in general. "I calculate you'll need the support of Silver Bow County, and we'd like to help you out."
"Of course, I shall be glad of your support,"responded Latimer, who knew it would be impossible to win without this important section of Montana.
"Very well. What can you do for us—that is, for Burroughs?"
The judge moved uneasily. "It doesn't seem to me that I can do very much for a man who has practically the whole State at his command."
"You know what we want!" scowlingly.
"I shall have no influence."
"Bah! What's the use talking? He'll make it worth your while. Get Danvers to vote for Burroughs when it comes time to elect United States senator. He never will unless you can persuade him. You know his feeling toward Burroughs, although Bob's been a good husband and father. And there's Charlie Blair, get him pledged and he'll be elected; and——"
"Hold on, Moore!" Latimer's voice trembled with anger. "Why should you oppose me? Haven't my decisions always been just and——"
"I'm not saying anything about your decisions," broke in Moore, "although it would have paid you to be amenable. I knew the time would come when you'd want our political help."
"Idon'twant your help!" cried the judge, passionately. "If I should be elected through your instrumentality I should feel as though every man in the State believed that a decision handed downby the Supreme Court was tainted with your money. As yet the Supreme Court of Montana has been above suspicion, and so far as it is in my power, it shall remain so!" He struck out, his slight form quivering righteously.
Across the room Danvers saw him, and walked quickly toward the men.
"I want to speak to you, Arthur," he said, and drew the judge into the street.
"The elephant and the gazelle are trotting together," said Latimer, presently, trying to be facetious in an effort to regain control of himself. He looked up at his stalwart companion.
"Yes, and the gazelle is always looking for trouble when the elephant is around, so he can be pulled out!" returned Danvers, in the same strain; yet with the undercurrent of affection that always crept into his tone when speaking to Latimer.
Words failed the harassed judge as he attempted to reply. This friend of his! This dear friend!
"It is just as I thought, Phil," he remarked, after they had walked for a time in silence. "Burroughs will block me."
"That's bad; but it might be worse. Let me see. Who are the delegates from Silver Bow?"
"Bill Moore is the chairman. No need to specify the individual men, for every one of themwill vote as instructed. Oh, Burroughs has that county well organized!"
"H-m-m!" mused Danvers, nodding affirmation. "Silver Bow is not the only county, and Moore is not the only chairman. I am chairman of the Chouteau County delegation, and we are solid for you. I have more or less influence in other counties," modestly. As they walked they canvassed the situation. Without Silver Bow it did look dubious.
Turning a corner they met O'Dwyer, ruddy and smiling as ever.
"Here's O'Dwyer!" cried Danvers. "He is always good in an emergency. His fertile brain will contrive some method of procedure that will land you safely on the bench for a second term."
A conference ensued. O'Dwyer shook his head doubtfully when he learned of Burroughs' strong following, but said nothing until the three were in Danvers' room.
"I heard Wild Cat Bill talking to yeh," he acknowledged, "and I think I've got something up my sleeve." But he refused to disclose his plans, only warning Danvers not to be surprised if he was late to the convention, and they separated.
The convention was called to order. Campaign issues did not appear to be of great moment; but when the chairman announced that the candidatesfor chief justice would now be considered, there suddenly arose so much controversy and ill-feeling that the meeting was adjourned until evening. An active canvass was begun by Danvers for Judge Latimer, and by Moore for his candidate. O'Dwyer of Chouteau County, seemingly not so much interested in the business in hand as in looking up old friends whom he had known at Fort Macleod, circulated joyously among the men. It was not long before he was cheek by jowl at the hotel bar with Wild Cat Bill (Moore never objected to the old nickname), and after sundry refreshments and their accompanying chasers, he proposed that they dine together. Mr. Moore was agreeable, and suggested a private room for the meal, being under the impression that O'Dwyer would look favorably on an effort to turn his allegiance from Latimer's candidacy.
As the dinner progressed he told O'Dwyer that he had in mind a lucrative position which Mr. Burroughs would gladly bestow on an old friend, if the Irishman saw fit to accept. Moore carefully explained, as the glasses were filled and emptied, that he had no ulterior motive. Oh, certainly not! O'Dwyer must not think that Burroughs ever offered a bribe, even in so small a matter as this of defeating Judge Latimer in state convention!
"Of course not!" agreed O'Dwyer, and surreptitiously glanced at his watch. He redoubled his efforts to be the good fellow, and apparently coincided with Moore's views on politics.
The clock in the court house struck half after eight. The convention was called to order, and Mrs. Latimer, thrilling with the sense of unknown possibilities, sat in the crowded gallery, and settled expectantly to the excitement of the balloting. Strong and spicy speeches were anticipated. Silver Bow, notoriously the hotbed of political agitation in the State, possessed in Mr. Moore a star speaker. He always had something to say, and was the chief factor in filling the ladies' gallery. His fiery remarks and impassioned appeals were as exhilarating as cocktails. Full well did Mr. Burroughs know the value of his trusted henchman, both in caucus and on the floor, and he had left his cause against Judge Latimer wholly in Moore's hands, with no understudy. He had made the trip over from Butte the day before, and now expectantly awaited the appearance of the Honorable William.
As the delegates and spectators listened to the blaring band they watched the rapidly filling seats and noted the tall staffs and placards indicating the various counties. Danvers looked in vain for Latimer; Burroughs for Moore.
O'Dwyer had not appeared, and the chairman of the Chouteau County delegation smiled as hethought of the Irishman's devotion to his friends, and the possible discomfiture of their common enemy. But Latimer's absence was disquieting. He had said something about little Arthur's having a cold, but surely that would not keep him from so important an occasion.
Nine o'clock. The chairman declared the convention ready to proceed. Burroughs, hovering near the doors of the auditorium, looked anxious as he saw Danvers rise to make his nomination speech for Judge Latimer. Moore—the invaluable Moore—was not in the hall. The moments were slipping by, and Burroughs hastily dispatched a messenger to his hotel and to the club.
As Danvers gave a simple, earnest recital of Judge Latimer's qualifications and the need for such men in the State of Montana, he saw the judge enter. He spoke of his devotion to his family, his business integrity, his high ideals; and ended with the plea that in this day of corruption in high places, his own State preserve her prestige by maintaining in office one who had been found able and incorruptible in discharging his duties as judge of the Supreme Court of the State of Montana.
As Danvers returned to his seat he was met by the recalcitrant Moore, walking carefully, and blandly indifferent to Burroughs' angry oath with which he had been greeted at the door.
Danvers tried to avoid the wavering path, but the Honorable William had a set purpose in his muddled brain. He fell upon the neck of the delegate from Chouteau, and his arms met around Danvers' neck.
"I d'know yer name," he hiccoughed, enthusiastically, "but I know yeh're a gen'lmun." The unexpected followed. Holding himself upright by the embarrassed Danvers, he bellowed: "Mishter Chairman! I seconsh the nomination!"
Pandemonium ensued—laughter in the galleries, drowned by the roar of disapproval from Burroughs' candidate and his following. O'Dwyer hastily gained the recognition of the chairman and again seconded the nomination of Latimer, and the balloting began.
Burroughs, not being a delegate, had no place on the floor, and was powerless. The leaderless flock from Silver Bow made weak efforts to assert themselves, but O'Dwyer saw to it that Moore did not get to them until affairs were well settled. The first ballot was taken, and Latimer had a majority. He had received the nomination!
There were cheers and loud calls for Latimer, and he responded briefly. In the excitement Burroughs succeeded in enticing the torpid Bill into the lobby, and so effective were his words, emphasized by his fists, that Moore returned to thehall a chastened man, and demanded that the nomination be set aside. In the uproar Burroughs ventured onto the floor and yelled to the cheering delegation from Chouteau County, "Howl, ye hirelings!" He violently accused Danvers of collusion with O'Dwyer in detaining Mr. Moore.
O'Dwyer was in no mood to permit this. For years he had idolized the Englishman. In a moment he placed himself in front of the ex-trader, and reaching, grabbed for Burroughs' nose.
"Do I understand yeh're talkin' agin me friend, Philip Danvers?" he shouted, with a twist of the olfactory member. "If I hear anither whimper out of yez, I'll smash yeh one! I got Bill Moore drunk—I! Yeh can settle wid mesilf!"
In the tumult the meeting adjourned, and Danvers was glad to get out of the hall and have a word with his friend.
"Why were you so late, Arthur?" questioned Danvers, as soon as they had a moment together.
"My boy is not well," Arthur explained, as his eye roved anxiously around the circling balcony. "Eva had set her heart on hearing the nomination speeches, and so I stayed with the laddie until the last minute. I couldn't bear to leave him alone with the nurse-girl."
"Let me go for a doctor!" begged Danvers, anxious to be of some help.
"No, he isn't sick enough for that—I did call a physician about dinner time. Perhaps I'm foolish," he smiled wanly, "but if anything should happen——"
"Tut! tut!" Danvers put his hand on the stooping shoulders. "I'm going home on the midnight train, and I'll send the old doctor up to see the lad; or," with a sudden thought, "why not wire him? I will do it as I go to the station."
"Perhaps you'd better," agreed Latimer. "I wish he had remained here for the convention; but I know he will be glad to make the trip for the sake of the boy, and the sight of his face will do me good."
"You've been working too hard. Take it easy now and don't worry," counseled Danvers. "I shall be up again in a few weeks, and in the meantime write to me, Arthur."
He stood a moment as Judge Latimer waited for Eva. He felt, somehow, that his friend needed him. But his train would soon be due, and with a hearty hand-clasp he said good-night and hurried away for the Fort Benton express.