"Would you mind repeating those last words?"
"I am the governor of North Carolina, Mr. Collins. The manner in which I attained that high office is not important. It must suffice that I am in sole charge of the affairs of this great state, without relief from valuation or appraisement laws and without benefit of clergy. And we have much to do here; mere social conversation must await an ampler time. I now appoint you publicity agent to the governor. Your business is to keep the people fooled—all the people all the time. In other words, you are chief liar to the administration, a position of vast responsibility, for which you have, if I am a judge of character, the greatest talents. You will begin by sending out word that Governor Dangerfield has given up all other work at present but the destruction of the Appleweight gang. These stories that the governor has hidden himself to dodge certain duties are all punk—do you understand?—he is serving the people as he has always served them, faithfully and with the noblest self-sacrifice. That's the sort of stuff I want you to jam into the newspapers all over the world. And remember—my name does not appear in the business at all—neither now nor hereafter."
"But by the ghost of John C. Calhoun, don't you see that I'm losing the chance of my life in my own profession? There's a story in this that would put me to the top and carry me right into New York," and Collins glanced about for his suit-case, as though meditating flight.
"Your appointment has gone into effect," said Ardmore with finality, "and if you bolt you will be caught and made to walk the plank. And so far as your future is concerned, you shall have a newspaper of your own anywhere you please as soon as this war is over."
The three men adjourned to the caboose where Ardmore told Collins all that it seemed necessary for the newspaper man to know; and within half an hour the new recruit had entered thoroughly into the spirit of the adventure, though his mirth occasionally got the better of him, and he bowed his head in his hands and surrendered himself to laughter. Thereafter, until the six o'clock supper was ready, he kept the operator occupied. He sent to the Palladium a thoroughly plausible story giving prominence to the Appleweight case and laying stress on Governor Dangerfield's vigorous personality and high sense of official responsibility. He sent queries to leading journals everywhere, offering exclusive news of the rumored disappearance of North Carolina's governor. His campaign of publicity for the state administration was broadly planned, though he was losing a great opportunity to beat the world with a stunning story of the amazing nerve with which Ardmore, the young millionaire, had assumed the duties of governor of North Carolina in the unaccountable absence of Governor Dangerfield from his capital. The whole thing was almost too good to be true, and Collins put away the idea of flight only upon realizing the joyous possibilities of sharing, no matter how humbly, in the fate of an administration which was fashioning the drollest of card houses. He did not know, and was not to know until long afterward, just how the young master of Ardsley had leaped into the breach; but Ardmore was an extraordinary person, whose whims set him quite apart from other men, and while, even if he escaped being shot, the present enterprise would undoubtedly lead to a long term in jail, Collins had committed himself to Ardmore's cause and would be faithful to it, no matter what happened.
Ardmore took Collins more fully into his confidence during the lingering twilight, and the reporter made many suggestions that were of real value. Meanwhile Cooke's men brought three horses from the depths of the forest, and saddled them. Cooke entered the caboose for a final conference with Ardmore and a last look at the maps.
"Too bad," remarked the acting governor, "that we must wait until to-morrow night to pick up the Appleweights, but our present business is more important. It's time to move, Cooke."
They rode off in single file on the faintest of trails through the woods, Cooke leading and Ardmore and Collins following immediately behind him. The great host of summer stars thronged the sky, and the moon sent its soft effulgence across the night. They presently forded a noisy stream, and while they were seeking the trail again on the farther side an owl hooted a thousand yards up the creek, and while the line re-formed Cooke paused and listened. Then the owl's call was repeated farther off and so faintly that Cooke alone heard it. He laid his hand on Ardmore's rein:
"There's a foot-trail that leads along that creek, and it's very rough and difficult to follow. Half a mile from here there used to be a still, run by one of the Appleweights. We smashed it once, but no doubt they are operating again by this time. That hoot of the owl is a warning common among the pickets put out by these people. Wireless telegraphy isn't in it with them. Every Appleweight within twenty miles will know in half an hour how many there are of us and just what direction we are taking. We must not come back here to-night. We must put up on your place somewhere and let them think, if they will, we are guests of yours out for an evening ride."
"That's all right. Unless we complete this job in about two days my administration is a fizzle," said Ardmore, as they resumed their march through the forest. There was a wilder fling to the roll of the land now, but the underbrush was better cleared, and the trail had become a bridle-path that had known man's care.