“I beg pardon. It looks familiar, but really I cannot place you.”
“I am very sorry, for that is the object of my call,” smiled the mysterious stranger. “Permit me to refresh your memory, my dear governor. Two years ago I was a student at the West Virginia University, and I had the pleasure of saving your son from injury in a football game. Prompt medical aid rescued him from a very precarious state, and he was pleased to insist that I saved his life. Afterward, when I met you, you were very grateful, and promised to do me, if it ever lay in your power, a favor. I may add that my vote helped to make you governor—although I am not claiming a reward for what was my pleasure, and for the good of my State.”
The governor thanked him for the delicate compliment, and, gazing at him keenly, said:
“It was Ludington that saved George—I recall it distinctly. But he is dead, poor fellow! You are perhaps a relative. I notice now a strong resemblance. If you wore short hair and a mustache, the likeness would be striking.”
“I should then be Rupert Ludington himself,” grimly.
The governor grew slightly pale and grave at so unseemly a jest. The young man added earnestly:
“Your time is precious, I know, but you have a kind, true face. Can you keep a secret for me?”
“Sit down and unbosom yourself, my friend,” returned the executive cordially, as he resumed his own seat and gazed curiously at his strange visitor, who blurted out with strong agitation:
“I am Rupert Ludington himself!”
It was no wonder that Governor Atkinson half started from his chair and grew slightly pale, as he exclaimed, fancying this a madman: