The private secretary’s lips twitched with mirth that he coughed to hide, but Governor Atkinson frankly laughed outright.
“He must be a wit,” he remarked dryly.
“It sounds like it, yet I don’t think it was intentional, your excellency. He seemed to be in earnest.”
“And yet his message makes him very difficult to identify. Have I not promised places to more men than I can remember?” groaned the governor.
“A sight of the young man might refresh your memory,” suggested the secretary respectfully.
“I will try the experiment. Send him in.”
Boggs retired, smiling.
A tall, slight young man, thin to emaciation, with a pallid, handsome, close-shaven face, lighted by hollow, dark-blue eyes, curling brown hair falling down upon his coat collar, well-dressed, well-mannered, entered the chamber.
“Ah, my friend, I am glad to meet you,” began the affable governor. “But somehow your name has escaped my memory.”
“Then my face does not suggest it, your excellency?”