Senator Corson grunted his indorsement and went to a chair and sat down. His Excellency was pursuing his familiar tactics in an emergency--the rough tactics that were characteristic of him. In this case Senator Corson approved and allowed the Governor to boss the operation. "I--I think, Mayor Morrison," ventured the adjutant-general, "considering that recent perfect understanding we had on the matter, that we'd do well to keep this on the plane of politeness." "So do I," Stewart agreed. "Then I hazard the guess that you'll accompany me down-stairs to the door. Calling a guard would be mutually embarrassing." "It sure would," asserted Stewart, agreeing still. "Then--" The general crooked a polite arm and offered it. "But your guess was too much of a hazard! You don't win!" However, Morrison turned on his heel and ran toward the private door. He appeared to be solving all difficulties by flight. It was plain that those in the room supposed so; their tension relaxed; the mayor of Marion was manifestly avoiding the ignominy of ejection from the Capitol by the militia--and that would be a fine piece of news to be bruited on the streets next day, if he had remained to force that issue! Stewart flung open the door. But instead of stepping through he stepped back. "Come in," he called. Paymaster Andrew Mac Tavish led the way, plodding stolidly, his neck particularly rigid. Delora Bunker, stenographer at St. Ronan's mill, followed. Last came Patrolman Rellihan, his bulk nigh filling the door, his helmeted head almost scraping the lintel. He carried a night-stick that resembled a flail-handle rather than the usual locust club. Morrison slammed the door and Rellihan put his back against it. There was a profound hush in the Executive Chamber. The feet of those who entered made no sound on the thick carpet. Those who were in the chamber offered evidence of the truism that there are situations where words fail to do justice to the emotions. Morrison was the first to speak. He walked to the table before uttering a word; on his way across the room his eyes were on the keys. When he leaned on the table he put one hand over them. "This invasion seems outrageous, gentlemen. Undoubtedly it is. But I have tried another plan with you and it did not succeed. I had hoped that I would not need these assistants whom I have just called in." "Totten, go bring the guard!" North's voice was balefully subdued. Rellihan looked straight ahead and twirled his stick. "I apologize for stretching my special exception a bit, and introducing these guests past the boys at the door," Stewart went on. "I'm breaking the rules of politeness--and the rules of everything else, I'm afraid. But all rules seem to be suspended to-night!" "Totten!" the Governor roared, pounding his fist on the arm of his chair. Morrison gave the policeman a side-glance as if to inform himself that all was right with Rellihan.