A buzz of guttural voices inside the door interrupted him. Glancing at the clock he was astonished to see that it marked twenty minutes of one. The half-hour had grown into more than an hour. An inner door opened and the waiting man heard Smiling Mart Embree’s weary but clear-toned “That can wait, gentlemen.” The Germans passed Jeremy, Wanser giving him a civil word and Bausch nodding sardonically, as one might to a none-too-welcome accomplice by compulsion.
“Come in, Jem,” summoned the Governor, and the editor of The Guardian advanced to confront his longtime friend, aide, and ally.
CHAPTER X
ADMIRATION was Jeremy’s first impulse as he faced
Martin Embree. The man had so quickly and surely recovered his poise. Serenity was in his tired smile, and the assurance that from Jeremy he would have understanding and sympathy. To destroy that childlike and beaming confidence was a thing smacking of brutality. Jeremy fought off a temptation to temporize and went to the point at once.
“Why did you appoint me vice-chairman without consulting me in advance?”
The Governor’s smile became both confident and confiding. “Because you’re the man for the place. We need you there.”
“Or because you thought it would tie my hands.”