The long lean figure erected itself in the chair, and the weight of years seemed to slip from its shoulders.

“But I understood you to say that the duties of the executive had devolved upon me, Mr. Kent.  You also said I could imagine the result of this singular mistaking of train-orders, and I fancied I could.  What was the result?”

“A conclusion not quite as sanguinary as that you had in mind, though it is likely to prove serious enough for one member of the party in the private car.  The special train was chased all the way across the State by the fast mail.  It finally outran the pursuing section and was stopped at Megilp.  A sheriff’s posse was in waiting, and an arrest was made.”

“Go on,” said the lieutenant-governor.

“I must first go back a little.  Some weeks ago there was a shooting affray in the mining-camp, arising out of a dispute over a ‘salted’ mine, and a man was killed.  The murderer escaped across the State line.  Since the authorities of the State in which the crime was committed had every reason to believe that a governor’s requisition for this particular criminal would not be honored, two courses were open to them:  to publish the facts and let the moral sentiment of the neighboring commonwealth punish the criminal as it could, or would; or, suppressing the facts, to bide their chance of catching their man beyond the boundaries of the State which gave him an asylum.  They chose the latter.”

A second time Marston left his chair and began to pace the floor.  After a little he paused to say: 

“This murderer is James Guilford, I take it; and the governor—­”

“No,” said Kent, gravely.  “The murderer is—­Jasper G. Bucks.”  He handed the judge a copy of the Argus.  “You will find it all in the press despatches; all I have told you, and a great deal more.”

The lieutenant-governor read the newspaper story as he walked, lighting the electric chandelier to enable him to do so.  When it was finished he sat down again.

“What a hideous cesspool it is!” was his comment.  “But we shall clean it, Mr. Kent; we shall clean it if it shall leave the People’s Party without a vote in the State.  Now what can I do for you?  You didn’t come here at this hour in the morning merely to bring me the news.”

“No, I didn’t, Judge Marston.  I want my railroad.”

“You shall have it,” was the prompt response.  “What have you done since our last discussion of the subject?”

“I tried to ‘obliterate’ Judge MacFarlane, as you suggested.  But I failed in the first step.  Bucks and Meigs refused to approve the quo warranto.”

The judge knitted his brows thoughtfully.

“That way is open to you now; but it is long and devious, and delays are always dangerous.  You spoke of the receivership as being part of a plan by which your road was to be turned over to an eastern monopoly.  How nearly has that plan succeeded?”