“Will you sign these now, Governor?” asked a voice behind him.
It was his secretary, a man who knew the affairs of the State well, and whom every one seemed to respect.
“Mr. Haines,” he said abruptly, “who do you think is the best man we have for the United States Senate?”
The secretary stepped back, dumfounded; amazed that the question should be put to him, startled at that strange way of putting it. Then he told himself he must be discreet. Like many of the people at the State-house, in his heart Haines was a Boxer.
“Why, I presume,” he ventured, “that the Governor is looked upon as the logical candidate, isn't he?”
“I'm not talking about logical candidates. I want to know who you think is the man who would most conscientiously and creditably represent this State in the Senate of the United States.”
It was so simply spoken that the secretary found himself answering it as simply. “If you put it that way, Governor, Mr. Huntington is the man, of course.”
“You think most of the people feel that way?”
“I know they do.”
“You believe if it were a matter of popular vote, Huntington would be the new Senator?”