“Are they numerous enough to elect a governor who will do their bidding?”
“Perhaps not, but their money is powerful enough to do it”—he paused—“if it becomes necessary.”
The Governor arose, and Mr. Evans, influenced by the action, did the same. The two men faced each other.
“Mr. Evans,” and the Governor seemed to increase in stature, “I fully understand your last remark—if it becomes necessary. You shall have an open field. I prize the great honour that has been conferred upon me by placing me here, but I must confess I dislike the duties, circumscribed as they are by personal and political influences. I can understand, now, why a ruler wishes to be an autocrat. It is the only way in which he can make his personality a part of his body. I shall not be a candidate for re-election this autumn. I wish my personal freedom of action, and I prize it more than fame or power.”
“May I mention your decision to the leaders of the party?”
“If you so desire. From this moment I am to be untrammelled except by my official oath.”
Mr. Evans took his leave, evidently pleased with a part of what he had heard, and in a short time was closeted with some leading politicians in a private room of a prominent hotel.
The Governor resumed his reading of the labour bill, but was aroused from his contemplation of its provisions by the entrance of Mr. Amos Acton. Mr. Acton was secretary of a manufacturer's association. He was tall and spare. His hair was sandy in hue, and his mouth twitched nervously.
“Your Excellency, I came to see you about that picketing bill. If it becomes a law our manufacturers will be driven from the State. They are now seriously handicapped by the vigorous provisions of existing laws. I trust your Excellency will not add to our present burdens.”
“I have read the bill, Mr. Acton. It seems conservative, with full provision for the protection of life and property.”