Promptly at ten o’clock, the morning after his arrival at the state capital, he sent in his card to the Governor.  Fortunately for him, the middle of August is not a busy time with that official, and after a slight delay, he was ushered into the executive chamber.

Peter had been planning this interview for hours, and without explanation or preamble, he commenced his statement.  He knew that he must interest the Governor promptly, or there would be a good chance of his being bowed out.  So he began with a description of the cow-stables.  Then he passed to the death of the little child.  He sketched both rapidly, not taking three minutes to do it, but had he been pleading for his own life, he could not have spoken more earnestly nor feelingly.

The Governor first looked surprised at Peter’s abruptness; then weary; then interested; and finally turned his revolving chair so as to put his back to Peter.  And after Peter had ended his account, he remained so for a moment.  That back was very expressive to Peter.  For the first time he felt vanquished.

But suddenly the Governor turned, and Peter saw tears on his cheek.  And he said, after a big swallow, “What do you want of me?” in a voice that meant everything to Peter.

“Will you listen to me for five minutes?” asked Peter, eagerly.

“Yes.”

Than Peter read aloud a statement of the legal proceedings, and of his interviews with the District Attorney and with Dummer, in the clearest and most compact sentences he had been able to frame.

“You want me to interfere?” asked the Governor.

“Yes.”

“I’m afraid it’s not possible.  I can of course remove the District Attorney, but it must be for cause, and I do not see that you can absolutely prove his non intention to prosecute those scoundrels.”

“That is true.  After study, I did not see that you could remove him.  But there’s another remedy.”

“What is that?”

“Through the State Attorney you can appoint a special counsel for this case.”

“Are you sure?”

Peter laid one of the papers in his hands before the Governor.  After reading it, the Governor rang a bell.

“Send for Mr. Miller,” he said to the boy.  Then he turned, and with Peter went over the court papers, till Mr. Miller put in an appearance.

“State the matter to Mr. Miller,” said the Governor, and Peter read his paper again and told what he wished.

“The power unquestionably exists,” said the Attorney-General.  “But it has not been used in many years.  Perhaps I had better look into it a bit.”

“Go with Mr. Miller, Mr. Stirling, and work over your papers with him,” said the Governor.

“Thank you,” said Peter simply, but his hand and face and voice said far more, as he shook hands.  He went out with the first look of hope his face had worn for two years.