“Get ready there!” ordered the governor.
From out a shadowy corner sprang a third figure. “You’ve come at last! I’m ready!”
Drexel’s breath suddenly stopped. His blood seemed all to leave him, and he seemed to turn to ice.
“I’m ready! Come on!” cried Freeman eagerly.
“Now don’t you be afraid I’ll overlook you,” the governor grimly reassured him. “But I don’t want you yet.”
“What!” cried Freeman. “Hasn’t the order for my release from prison come yet?”
“The order that is going to release you from prison and everything else—yes.”
“But my pardon? My reprieve?” Freeman took a quick step forward and pointed a finger at Drexel. “Are you sure he hasn’t got it?”
“No. Be quiet, will you!” and the governor gave him a push.
Sonya had been looking at Freeman in questioning surprise. “The order for your release?” she now asked.