“Justin,” she said, looking up at him, “that does not need an answer; but I’m going to ask you not to be stubborn when you go to Denver, that is all. You do get unreasonably angry, sometimes, just like Uncle Philip; and when you do, you become stubborn. You don’t mind if I say this? If the struggle we fear comes, will you promise me not to permit yourself to get angry and stubborn about it? There will be many things said, I’ve no doubt, that will try you. But just think of me here, a ranch girl, and your best friends ranch people; the cowboys, who regard you so highly, didn’t vote for you because they were opposed to the ranchmen, but simply because they didn’t like Ben. You’ll remember these things, won’t you?” He drew her to him. “Lucy,” he said, as he put his arm about her and kissed her, “I shall be thinking of you all the time. I was almost afraid to come over here to-day, but I see I had nothing to fear.” “And do you know why?” “Because you love me even as I love you.” “Then you won’t forget—you won’t forget—that I am a ranch girl, and that my interests, and yours too if you but knew it, are ranch interests!” “I will not forget,” he promised. CHAPTER IV IN THE WHIRLPOOL The conflicting interests had so shaped themselves before Justin went to Denver that he knew it would be impossible for him to vote on certain questions with the representatives of the ranchmen. He reached this decision, after many long talks with Doctor Clayton, in the quiet of the doctor’s study. Yet he maintained a silence, trying to himself, which Clayton deemed discreet; and he went to Denver with many misgivings. He had no sooner set foot in the hotel when Fogg’s smiling face made its appearance. “Good; you’re here!” Fogg cried. “Now I’ll see that you have a first-class room. These hotel people will poke you off into any old corner, if you don’t watch them.” He seized Justin’s valise, but relinquished it to the colored boy who came forward to take it, and walked with Justin to the clerk’s desk, where he made known with confidential words and gestures that his friend, Justin Wingate, the representative from Flatrock, was to have a good room, in a good location. And he went up with Justin to the room, to make sure that he had not been swindled by the wicked hotel men. “This will be all right,” he declared, joyously. “My room is on the same floor. You must come in and look at it.” Justin went in, and they talked awhile. Fogg did not ask him any questions, but seemed to assume that there could be no divergence of opinion between them on any vital point; they were old friends, and they understood each other!