Shelby forced his mind back to his desk. The closely written sheets of manuscript which had filled his evening yesterday lay before him. He called his private secretary from the adjoining room.
"Have the stenographers all gone?"
"All but one, governor," said the secretary. "He is working past hours on a personal matter for me."
"Let me borrow him."
For an hour the governor slowly dictated from his sheets.
"You will miss your regular dinner over this," he said to the man, at the end, and pressed a bank-note upon him. "We'll need several copies, of course."
The stenographer went to his typewriter, and Shelby walked out to his secretary's desk.
"He's working on this," he explained, showing him a page of the manuscript. "I suppose he doesn't leak news?"
The secretary flushed a little over the hasty reading.
"He is wholly trustworthy," he replied.