Already I seemed to feel the carking cares of public office upon me.
Yes, I even fancied I saw a skulking figure of a padre dodge around a corner, and the remembrance of the summary way presidents are frequently changed in these hot revolutionary countries gave me a shiver.
“Well, how d’ye like it as far as you’ve gone, Mr. President?” chuckled Robbins.
I told him I was not prepared to answer that question, as I had had no opportunity to analyze my feelings on the subject; perhaps inside of twenty-four hours I could tell better.
“They gave you a good send-off, Morgan.”
“Well, yes; but we presidents early learn to measure public applause lightly. Those same boys, as you call them, chased us two nights ago, eager for our blood, and may be doing the same thing at some future time,” I remarked, loftily.
Robbins laughed gleefully.
“Glad to see you haven’t had the wool pulled over your eyes by all that racket, governor. We must be eternally on the alert down here, and meet danger on the wing. You can depend on me to keep in touch with things, and if the kettle boils over soon or late I’ll have the path ready for skipping out.”
His words lifted a load from my heart, for I was worrying about Hildegarde, should any trouble result from this yielding on my part to the impulse of high ambition.
With such a steady and true comrade at my side, who could blame me for accepting the office that had been thrust upon me, fraught with peril though it be?