Before luncheon a message was received from Gillingwater, to this effect:
Governor William Dangerfield.
Ardsley, N. C.:
En route with our entire available force in the field. I am riding ahead with all speed, and will report at Ardsley at nine o’clock. Is full military dress de rigueur?
Gillingwater, Adjutant-General.
“Isn’t that just like Rutherford! He’s afraid he won’t be dressy enough; but if he knew that the South Carolina troops might shoot holes in his uniform he wouldn’t be due here for a couple of weeks, instead of at nine o’clock to-night;” and Jerry laughed merrily.
They debated more seriously this telegram from Collins at Raleigh sent the previous evening:
Can’t maintain this bluff much longer. Even the friendly newspapers are growing suspicious. State credit jeopardized by disappearance of Treasurer Foster. Billings, of Bronx Loan and Trust, here in a great fury over bond matter. Do you know governor’s whereabouts?
“Things are certainly growing more exciting,” was Ardmore’s comment. “I suppose even a gifted liar like Collins can’t muzzle the press for ever.”
“You can’t go on fooling all North Carolina all the time, either,” said Jerry, “and I suppose when papa gets tired of being scared he will turn up in Raleigh and tell some plausible story about where he has been and what has happened. When it comes to being plausible no one can touch papa.”
“Maybe he’s dead,” suggested Ardmore gloomily.