"I got to see a man here," said one of the drummers. "Come along. It won't take but a minute. He'll be waiting on the platform; I wired him."
"That man looked bad," commented the other, jerking his thumb backward as they stepped from the car. "Did you notice how ghastly his face was? I thought for a moment he was going to speak to you."
They passed on, and the conductor, who followed a moment later, stopped abruptly at sight of the limp figure, and hurried into the next coach.
"Is there a doctor on board?" he asked. "A man has fainted—or had a stroke. It's Judge Latimer, of Helena."
And the instruments of fate never knew what a deadly blow they had delivered.
That evening Mrs. Latimer, exquisitely gowned and radiating magnetism, was again trying to persuade Senator Blair to vote for Mr. Burroughs.
"Burroughs is capable of more skulduggery than any man in the State," declared her caller, after they had talked somewhat of the senatorial candidate. "I can't see why you keep on harping on his fitness for the place."
"Do you know, I admire him," responded Mrs. Latimer, with apparent frankness. "He may be unscrupulous; but he has been successful. The end justifies the means, I think."
"I've promised Senator Danvers that I would not vote for Burroughs," affirmed Blair, stubbornly. Eva had treated him coolly for a few days, and he had practically decided that he wanted neither Judge Latimer's wife nor Burroughs' money. But as he gazed at the lady's ripe beauty he became more infatuated than before. He changed the subject abruptly. "I must go down to the valley to-morrow, after the session adjourns. Will you come with me for a ride?"