Glancing at his companion, he saw her cheeks flushed, her head held proudly poised, her countenance evidencing the enjoyment of the moment, and he felt amply rewarded for the work which had produced so glorious a result.

A moment he bent above her chair, whispering one last word of compliment into the little ear which reddened at his bold speech, and feasting his ardent eyes upon the flushed and animated countenance.

The impatient crowd wondered at the nature of the coming ceremony, and Mr.Moffat strove to recall the opening words of his introductory address.
Suddenly his gaze settled upon one face amid the throng.

A moment of hesitation followed; then a quick whisper of excuse to the waiting divinity in the chair, and the perturbed president pressed his way toward the door.

Buck Mason stood there on guard, carelessly leaning against the post, his star of office gleaming beneath the light.
"Buck," exclaimed Moffat, "how did that feller McNeil, and those other cow-punchers, get in here?
You had your orders." Mason turned his quid deliberately and spat at the open door.