“Yes. Ask yourself this question: Why did Abner Kellogg direct the constable to search Toby Clark’s premises? And now let us talk of something else, for here is Judith waiting for us.”
The governor had a jolly, restful evening. He played dominoes with Becky, who was allowed to sit up on this important occasion, and afterward, when the youngsters were in bed, lay back in an easy chair and smoked a cigar while Phoebe played some simple old-fashioned melodies on the piano which warmed his heart. Cousin John really enjoyed his visit to Riverdale and honestly regretted it must be so brief.
“I’m coming again, some time,” he promised, as he prepared to walk to the station after breakfast. “These few hours with you have rested me wonderfully and enabled me to forget for the moment the thousand and one worries and cares incident to my office. It is no sinecure being a public servant, I assure you. The people insist that I earn my salary.”
Phoebe and Judith walked down to the train with him and the secret must have leaked out in some way for, early as it was, a throng of villagers had assembled on the platform. The governor frowned slightly, but then smiled and bowed in answer to the ringing cheer that greeted his appearance. As he waited for the train to pull in he whispered to Phoebe: “If you get snagged over that Toby Clark affair, send me a telegram. The boy is innocent. I’ve seen and studied him, and I’ll vouch for his honesty. But on his trail is a clever enemy, and you’ll have to look sharp to circumvent him.”
Then he kissed Judith, jumped on the platform of the car and waved his hat to the cheering crowd as the train carried him away.
“We’ve gained an added prestige through the governor’s visit—if it’s worth anything to us,” laughed Judith, on the way home.
“Isn’t he splendid?” cried Phoebe, enthusiastically. “He wasn’t a bit stilted or self-important, as such a great man has the right to be, but acted just like an old friend.”
“Exactly what Cousin John is,” replied the Little Mother. “The great are always human, Phoebe; sometimes the more human they are the greater they become. And they grow to judge fame and public adulation at its proper value and are not deceived nor unduly elated at popular acclaim. When the next governor takes his seat the present governor will be speedily forgotten. Cousin John realizes that, and—”
“But he’s to be president, some day; everybody says so!” exclaimed Phoebe protestingly.
“They’ll forget that, too,” returned Judith, with a smile. “I wouldn’t care to have Cousin John become president; he is tired from long service, and deserves a rest.”