CHAPTER I.
|The scene was Washington.
“Get the galoot to urge the Bill, gal; and I'll make over half them phosphate beds to you. The Senate has already passed it.”
“I'll do my best, Uncle Silver Tip,” said Agnes Huntington. “Slippery Elm Benton loves me, and he cannot refuse his affianced wife his vote.”
“They'd hang him in Colorado if he did,” observed Uncle Silver Tip; “but see to it at once, gal; the fourth of March draws on apace. All must then be over, or all is lost.”
CHAPTER II
Agnes Huntington pressed her expectant nose against the pane. Outside the snowstorm was profound. The flakes crowded the air as they fell. The drifts were four feet deep on Connecticut avenue. A man wrapped in furs pushed his way toward the Chateau d' Huntington. It was Arctic cold, but love beckoned him. He stamped the snow from his feet in the entry. The next moment Agnes Huntington had curled about his neck in a festoon of affection.