Never had the candidate spoken to a more appreciative audience. Withfoot and hand and voice it thundered its applause; the building echoedwith it, and all the time the fire burned higher and higher, and themerry crackling of the wood was a minor note in the chorus of applause.But Jimmy Grayson's own voice was like an organ, every key of which heplayed; it expressed every human emotion; full and swelling, it roseabove the applause, and Harley, watching his expressive face, saw thathe felt these emotions. Once he believed that the candidate, carriedaway by his own feelings, had become oblivious of time and place, andthought now only of the troubles and needs of the mountain men.
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