The same afternoon that Danvers tried to overtake Miss Blair, two talkative drummers boarded the west-bound train at a small Montana station, doubling back to Helena. As they entered the smoking compartment of a sleeper they found it empty save for a slight, weary-looking man who was gazing abstractedly at the wintry plains. "Here, don't sit that side," said one; "the sun glares on the snow too much." As the drummer spoke to his friend he gave a passing glance at the preoccupied stranger, and chanced to take the seat directly in front of him. The other followed his advice, facing him. "What's doing in Helena? I've been gone a week, but I see by the paper you haven't elected a senator yet." "Naw," returned his companion; "hadn't yesterday, when I took the train." "Pretty stiff contest." "Pretty slick man bound to win out." "Wish I was a member, with all the swag there is floating 'round." "Wish I was a member with a right pretty woman coaxing for my vote!" "What's that? I hadn't heard of that yet." The speaker leaned forward, scenting scandal. "Aw! It's no secret in Helena. It's the talk of the town." "I never heard a word. I thought politics was free from petticoats out here." "They never are--anywhere. You know Charlie Blair?" The drummer interrogated shook his head. "Well, he's a Helena man, and one of the State senators. There's a woman lobbyin' for Burroughs, so they say, and she's got Blair batty! Last man in the world you'd expect to be caught by a woman. They say he's a great friend of her husband's, too--Judge Latimer." A stifled moan came from the seat behind the drummers. "You don't say! Any talk about her before?" "Search me!" "Probably there's nothing in it," concluded the other, with unexpected charity. "You know how people surmise the worst. She doesn't care for him, I take it." "Naw! At least, not if I size her up correct. She's a good-looker, all right; she was pointed out to me one night in the hotel dining-room. It was easy to see where _she_ was stuck! She couldn't keep her eyes off a tall, good-looking fellow, that I was told was the senator from Chouteau County." The other nodded. "I've heard of him. He's the head of the opposition to Burroughs in the Republican party. Danvers, his name is--Englishman--in the cattle business." "I saw the situation right away. Bill Moore, Burroughs' political boss, you know, says that years ago they had an affair over in the Whoop Up Country--wherever that is, and----" "Bozeman!" said the porter, interrupting the conversation. "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."