The barouche rolled into the Square, and, as it passed, Harkless turned,
and bent a sudden gaze upon the group in the buckboard; but the western
sun was in his eyes, and he only caught a glimpse of a vague, bright shape
and a dazzle of gold, and he was borne along and out of view, down the
singing street.

"Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
As we go marching on!"

The barouche stopped in front of the courthouse, and he passed up a lane
they made for him to the steps. When he turned to them to speak, they
began to cheer again, and he had to wait for them to quiet down.

"We can't hear him from over here," said Briscoe, "we're too far off. Mr.
Meredith, suppose you take the ladies closer in, and I'll stay with the
horses. You want to hear his speech."

"He is a great man, isn't he?" Meredith said to Helen, gravely, as he
handed her out of the buckboard. "I've been trying to realize for the last
few minutes, that he is the same old fellow I've been treating so
familiarly all day long."

"Yes, he is a great man," she answered. "This is only the beginning."

"That's true," said Briscoe, who had overheard her. "He'll go pretty far.
A man that people know is steady and strong and level-headed can get
whatever he wants, because a public man can get anything, if people know