Half a minute passed—a minute—two. Then Doyle slowly raised his eyes to Gordon's face, and his expression was that of mute adoration. Once again, as if he could scarcely believe his eyes, he glanced at the eight figures in the lowest row of all, just below the little code cipher known only to himself and to Gordon, which, translated, read, "Deducting amount paid to Combine, as per agreement." Then once again he raised his head. "My God!" he ejaculated slowly, and, after a pause, even more slowly and with greater emphasis, "My God!"
Gordon gazed at him with a slow smile; then, when he spoke, his tone for the first time showed a trace of excitement.
"It is remarkable, isn't it?" he said simply. "And Jim, at that, it's only the first step. I'm through with the market. You're to come with me at a doubled salary, and I'm going to try the biggest game of all. A year from now I'm going to be elected governor of this state—the first Democratic governor for twenty years—and the year after that—"
He paused, as if confident that Doyle would catch his meaning, but for once the latter's ready brain was fairly staggered by what he had seen.
"The year after that—" he repeated.
Gordon rose, and stood facing him, the lust of battle in his eyes.
"The year after that," he said quietly, "is presidential year."
CHAPTER XIV
[GORDON ENGAGES A POLITICAL LIEUTENANT]
Vanulm dropped into the chair next to Carrington's, reaching for a match as he did so. "Well, Mr. Journalist," he said, "and what's the news today?"