is brow with a quick movement.

"I have the confidence of the people," he said.

"The people! How long does it take a clever politician to befuddle them?
You aren't new to the business, and you know these things as well as I
do--or better. I tell you, when Dudley Webb begins to stump the State
the people will begin to howl for him. He'll win over the women and the
old Confederates when he gets on the Civil War, and the rest will come
easy. There won't be need of bogus ballots and disappearing election
books when the members of the Democratic caucus are sent up next
session."

"What do you want?" demanded the governor abruptly. He leaned forward,
his arms on the desk.

Galt tapped the list of appointments significantly.

"As a beginning, I want you to scratch out a good two-thirds of these
names. The others will go all right. The men I have cross marked are not
all Webb men to-day, but they will throw their influence on Webb's side
when the pull comes."

Nicholas took up the list and reread it carefully. "The men I have named
I believe to be best suited to the positions," he returned. "One, you
may observe, is a Republican--that will call for hostile criticism--but
he was beyond doubt the best man. I regret the fact that the majority of
these men are Webb partisans, but I wish to make these appointments for
reasons entirely apart from politics."

Galt had risen, and he now stood looking down upon the governor with a
smile in his eyes.

"So it goes?" he asked, pointing to the sheet of paper.

The other nodded.

"Yes, it goes. I am not a fool, Ben. I wish things were different--but
it goes."

"And so do I," laughed Galt easily. "You won't mind my remarking, by the
way, that you are a brick, but a brick in the wrong road. However, you
hold on to Rann, and the rest of us will hold on to you. Oh, we'll see
you to-night at Carrie's coming-out affair, of course. The child
wouldn't have you absent for worlds. If my wife and daughter
represented the community you might become Dictator of Richmond. Good
morning!"

As he crossed the little gallery where the portraits hung there was an
abstracted smile about the corners of his shrewd mouth.

V

"Juliet!" called Galt as he swung open his house door.

It was his habit to call for his wife as soon as he crossed the
threshold, and she was accustomed to respond from the drawing-room, the
pantry, or the nursery, as the case might be. This evening her voice
flo