my conversation with Mr. Sandford. I decided that their considerateness
entitled them to my full confidence, and I told them all--begging them,
if I was indiscreet or undiplomatic, to charge the offense to my lack of
experience rather than to debit it against my cause.

They passed it off with banter. It was understood that the President
should not be told--and that I should not tell him--of my talk with
Mr. Sandford. Colonel Lamont undertook to arrange an audience with Mr.
Cleveland for me. "You had better wait," he said, "until I can approach
him with the suggestion that there's a young man here, from Utah, whom
he ought to see."

I knew, then, that I was at least well started on the open road to
success. I knew that if Colonel Lamont said he would help me, there
would be no difficulties in my way except those that were large in the
person of the President himself.

Two days later I received the expected word from Colonel Lamont, and I
went to the White House as a man might go to face his own trial. I met
the secretary in one of the eastern upstairs rooms of the official
apartments; and after the usual crowd had passed out, he led me into the
President's office--which then overlooked the Washington monument, the
Potomac and the Virginia shore. Mr. Cleveland was working at his desk.
Colonel Lamont introduced me by name, and added, "the young man from
Utah, of whom I spoke."

The President did not look up. He was signing some papers, bending
heavily over his work. It took him a moment or two to finish; then he
dropped his pen, pushed aside the papers, turned awkwardly in his swivel
chair and held out his hand to me. It was a cool, firm hand, and its