“Can you p’int out the young fellow from Goochland?” he inquired.  “That’s whar I come from.”

Galt pointed out the representative in question, and smiled because it was a man who had dined with him the evening before.

“That he?” exclaimed the countryman contemptuously.  “Why, I’ve been down here sence Saturday, an’ that young spark ain’t opened his mouth.  I ain’t heerd him mention Goochland sence I come.”

“Oh, there’s time enough,” ventured Galt good-humouredly.  “He’s young yet, and Goochland is immortal!”

“An’ I reckon he gits fo’ dollars same as the rest,” went on the stranger reflectively, “jest for settin’ thar an’ whittlin’ at that desk.  I used to study a good deal about politics fo’ I come here, but they air jest a blamed swindle, that’s what they air.”

He turned on his heel, and in a moment Galt entered the elevator and ascended to the office of the chief executive.

Reaching the landing he crossed a small gallery, where hung portraits of historic Virginians—­governors in periwigs and lace ruffles and statesmen of a later age in high neckcloths.  At the end of a short passage he opened the door of the anteroom and faced the private secretary, who was busy with his typewriter.

The secretary glanced up, recognised Galt, and gave a cordial nod.

“The governor’s got a gentleman in just now who called about the boundary line between Virginia and Maryland,” he said as Galt sat down.  “He wants to see you, though, so you’d better wait.  For a wonder there’s nobody else here.  Two-thirds of the legislature were up a while ago.”

He spoke with an easy intimacy of tone, while the click of the typewriter went on rapidly.

Galt nodded in response and, as he did so, the door opened and the caller came out.

“You’re the very man!” exclaimed a hearty voice, and Nicholas Burr was holding out his hand.  “Come in.  You’re the only human being I know who is always the right man in the right place.  How do you manage it?”

He sat down before his desk, pushing aside the litter of letters and pamphlets.  “I should like you to glance over this list of appointments,” he went on.

“It is what I dropped in about,” responded Galt.

He flung himself into an easy chair and stretched his long legs comfortably before him.  He did not take the list at once, but sat staring abstractedly at the freshly papered green walls above the large Latrobe stove whose isinglass doors shone like bloodshot eyes.

It was a long cheerful room with three windows which overlooked the grassy square.  There was a bright red carpet on the floor, and before the desk lay a gaudy rug enriched with stiff garlands.  In one corner a walnut bookcase was filled with papers filed for reference, and the shelves across from it were lined with calf-bound “Codes of Virginia.”  Among the pictures on the pale-green walls there were several of historic subjects—­Washington among his generals and Lee mounted upon Traveller.  Over the mantel hung an engraving of the United States Senate with Clay for the central figure.  Beside the desk a cracker box was filled with unanswered letters.