He took the penitentiary unawares. The warden was not expecting him. Nobody was--not even the warden's pretty, amorous little wife. Of this, his first visit to the institution since his inauguration six months before, the governor meant to make a surprise visit. An announcement sent on ahead would have meant preparations for his arrival--an official reception and a speeding-up of the machinery. His design was to see how the place looked in, as you might say, its week-day clothes. It looked pretty good. After a painstaking inspection he was bound to conclude that, for a prison, this prison came very near to being a model prison. The management was efficient, that was plain to be seen. The discipline, so far as he might judge, was strict without being cruel. The climax to a very satisfactory forenoon came, when the warden at the end of the tour invited him to stay for luncheon. "It'll just be a simple meal, Governor," said Warden Riddle, "with nobody else there except Mrs. Riddle. But I'd mightily like to have you take pot-luck with us." "Well, I believe I will do just that very thing," said Governor Blankenship, heartily. Privately he was much pleased. "That is, if I'm not putting your household out on my account?" "Of course not," stated Riddle. "I'll just chase a trusty across the road to tell the missis to put a third plate on the table--that's all that's necessary." He spoke with the pride of a contented husband in a well-ordered home. "Then I'll get in my car and go find a barber shop," said the governor, sliding the palm of his hand across his chin. "I started up country so soon after breakfast this morning that I forgot to shave." "No need for you to do that," Riddle told him. "Don't you remember seeing the little shop over back of the main building--not the big shop where the inmates are trimmed up, the little one where the staff have their barbering done? We've got a lifer over there who's a wiz' at his trade. I'll guarantee you'll get as good a shave from him as you ever had in your life, Governor." So, escorted by the warden, Governor Blankenship recrossed the enclosure to a wing behind the infirmary. From the doorway of a small, neat shop, properly equipped and spotlessly clean, the warden addressed the lone occupant, a young man in convict gray. "Shave this gentleman right away," he ordered. "A good quick job." "Yes, sir," replied the prisoner. "You needn't wait, Warden," said the governor. "I'll rejoin you in your office in a few minutes."