"And yet I defeated him!" suggested the governor.
Galt laughed, with a wave of his thin, nervous hand.
"My dear governor, you are the one great man in State politics, but that unimportant fact would not have landed you into your present seat had not the little revivalistic episode befuddled the brains of the convention."
Nicholas shook his head impatiently. "You make too much of that," he said.
"Perhaps. I want to impress upon you that you have a hard fight before you. The Webb men are already putting in a little quiet work in the legislature—and they have even been after the guards at the penitentiary. Major Rann is your man, and he tells me the Webb leaders are the quietest, most insidious workers he has ever met. As it is, he is your great card, and his influence is immense. Webb would give his right hand for him."
The governor tossed the hair from his 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.