"Hell, Tom," he remarked at last, "but you follow a man up too close. I guess I'll be able to look after my end. Come on; let's see what the place's like," and together they left the room.
CHAPTER II
[THE HAND OF MAN]
The governor stood by the window of the inner office, gazing out with unseeing eyes into the fast gathering twilight of the short November afternoon. The lights gleamed faintly through the haze—half mist, half rain—and the passing crowds, as they hurried by, seemed somehow to have about them an air of being shadowy, ghostlike, unreal.
Slowly the governor turned away from the window, and seated himself at his desk. For perhaps half an hour he sat motionless, his brow furrowed, his eyes questioning, his whole attitude that of a man who seeks to solve a problem which again and again comes around to the same starting point, and at the last still eludes him. Finally, with a sudden gesture of decision, he raised his head; the faraway expression left his eyes, and he was once again his old, alert, every-day self.
Closing his desk, he pressed the button for his secretary. Then, suddenly, as if overcome by utter weariness, he sank back in his chair, with eyes half closed, and thus Field, as he entered, found him.
"Nothing wrong, sir?" he asked anxiously. He, perhaps better than any one else in the city, save Doyle, knew the pace Gordon had been setting for himself of late.
The governor, with a sigh of infinite weariness, raised his head. "No," he said slowly, "nothing really wrong. Nothing but what a night's sleep will put right. But I am worn out, Bert, utterly worn out. We'll have to cancel everything for to-night, I'm afraid, and I'll just go home and get to bed."
The secretary nodded in quick appreciation. "That's right, sir," he cried quickly, "you couldn't do anything more sensible. It's only what I've been saying for a month past. No man on earth can treat himself as you've been doing. Flesh and blood aren't steel and iron. You're an exceptionally strong man, Governor, but other men, every bit as strong as you, are in their graves to-day simply because they got the idea they were something more than human. No, sir, you get a rest, and I'll look after everything for to-night. The dinner's really the only matter of official importance, and I'll get the speaker to represent you there. The other things it won't be any trouble to arrange. And no matter what happens, you take a good rest. No man ever deserved one more."
With a slight effort the governor rose. "Thank you, Bert," he said gratefully. "You're very kind. I think I'll do as you say."