Shackwell continued to twist his cigar through his sallow fingers without remembering to light it.  “You’re determined to reappoint Fleetwood?” he asked at length.

The Governor caught him up.  “You’re the fourth person who has asked me that to-day!  You haven’t lost faith in him, have you, Hadley?”

“Not an atom!” said the other with emphasis.

“Well, then, what are you all thinking of, to suppose I can be frightened by a little newspaper talk?  Besides, if Fleetwood is not afraid, why should I be?”

“Because you’ll be involved in it with him.”

The Governor laughed.  “What have they got against me now?”

Shackwell, standing up, confronted his friend solemnly.  “This—­that Fleetwood bought his appointment two years ago.”

“Ah—­bought it of me?  Why didn’t it come out at the time?”

“Because it wasn’t known then.  It has only been found out lately.”

“Known—­found out?  This is magnificent!  What was my price, and what did I do with the money?”

Shackwell glanced about the room, and his eyes returned to Mornway’s face.

“Look here, John, Fleetwood is not the only man in the world.”

“The only man?”

“The only Attorney-General.  “The ‘Spy’ has the Lead Trust behind it and means to put up a savage fight.  Mud sticks, and—­”

“Hadley, is this a conspiracy?  You’re saying to me just what Ella said this afternoon.”

At the mention of Mrs. Mornway’s name a silence fell between the two men and the Governor moved uneasily in his chair.

“You are not advising me to chuck Fleetwood because the ‘Spy’ is going to accuse me of having sold him his first appointment?” he said at length.

Shackwell drew a deep breath.  “You say yourself that Mrs. Mornway gave you the same advice this afternoon.”

“Well, what of that?  Do you imagine that my wife distrib—­” The Governor broke off with an exasperated laugh.

Shackwell, leaning against the mantelpiece, looked down into the embers.  “I didn’t say the ‘Spy’ meant to accuse youof having sold the office.”

Mornway stood up slowly, his eyes on his friend’s averted face.  The ashes dropped from his cigar, scattering a white trail across the carpet which had excited Mrs. Nimick’s envy.

“The office is in my gift.  If I didn’t sell it, who did?” he demanded.

Shackwell laid a hand on his arm.  “For heaven’s sake, John—­”

“Who did, who did?” the Governor violently repeated.

The two men faced each other in the closely curtained silence of the dim luxurious room.  Shackwell’s eyes again wandered, as if summoning the walls to reply.  Then he said, “I have positive information that the ‘Spy’ will say nothing if you don’t appoint Fleetwood.”

“And what will it say if I do appoint him?”

“That he bought his first appointment from your wife.”