"I told the Appleweight gang that they are a lot of cowards, and that the governor will have them all in jail or hanged within ten days."
"Splendid! Perfectly _splendid_! Did you really say that?"
"What else could I do? I knew that that's what the governor would say--he'd have to say it--so I thought I'd save him the trouble."
"In my room at the hotel. The gang must have somebody on guard here. A gentleman who seemed to be one of them called on me this morning, demanding the jug; and if he's the man I think he is, he's stolen the little brown jug from my room in the hotel by this time."
Miss Dangerfield had picked up a spool of red tape and was unwinding it slowly in her fingers and rewinding it. They were such nice little hands, and so peaceful in their aimless trifling with the tape that he was sure his eyes had betrayed him into imagining she had clenched them in the quiet drawing-room at the mansion. This office, now that its atmosphere enveloped him, was almost as domestic as the house in which she lived. The secretary had vanished, and a Sabbath quiet was on the place. The white inner shutters swung open, affording a charming prospect of the trees, the lawn and the monument in the park outside. And, pleasantest of all, and most soothing to his weary senses, she was tolerating him now; she had even expressed approval of something he had done, and he had never hoped for this. She had not even pressed him to disclose his real purpose in visiting Raleigh, and he prayed that she would not return to this subject, for he had utterly lost the conceit of his own lying gift. Miss Dangerfield threw down the spool of tape and bent toward him gravely.
"Nobody ever tried me with one, but I think I can, Miss Dangerfield," he murmured humbly.
And Ardmore rose, a little sheepishly, like a schoolboy who fears blame and praise alike. Miss Dangerfield lifted one of the adorable hands solemnly.
"I, acting governor of North Carolina, hereby appoint you my private secretary, and may God have mercy on your soul. You may now sit down, Mr. Secretary."
"But I thought there was a secretary already. And besides, I don't write a very good hand," Ardmore stammered.
"I am just sending Mr. Bassford to Atlanta to find papa. He's already gone, or will be pretty soon."