One morning he rose, haggard and red-eyed, from the bed upon which since midnight he had tossed and rolled. He had made his decision. Selfishness had won. He would break his promise to Wyeth. But since he must go to eternal Hell for a lie, he would go there for another and a sweeter reason. Until now, his romantic dealings with little Mrs. Riddle had been mild and harmless, if clandestinely conducted. He had not philandered with her; he merely had flirted. On his side it had been an innocent flirtation--an agreeable diversion. But he knew the lady's mind--knew she was weak and willing, where he had been strong and straightforward. So be it then. For a crown to his other and lesser iniquity he would corrupt the wife of his devoted friend. For the first time in a month he had zest for his breakfast. Conscience was so thoroughly drugged she seemed as though dead. From the table he went to the long-distance telephone. He would call her up and arrange for an assignation. There was considerable delay in establishing the connection--a buzzing over the wire, a confusion of vague sounds. Finally his ringing was answered by a strange voice. "I wish to speak with Mrs. Riddle," he said. There was a little pause. Then, in a fumbling, evasive fashion the voice made reply. "She's not here. She's--she's out." It occurred to the governor that he might as well tell the warden he had abandoned the idea of pardoning the barber. "Then I'd like to talk with Mr. Riddle," he said. "He's--he's not here either. Who is this, please?" In his double disappointment the governor forgot the possible need for caution. "This," he said, "is Governor Blankenship." "Oh!" The voice became warmer. "Is that you, Governor? I've been trying for an hour to get you on your private line. This is Warden Riddle's brother at the 'phone--you know, Henry Riddle? They got me up at daylight when this--this terrible thing was discovered, and I've been here ever since, doing what I could." "What terrible thing do you mean?" "Haven't you heard the news? Why, sir, the worst man in the penitentiary got away last night--Wyeth, the desperado. He--he had help. That's why the warden's away, why I'm in charge. My poor brother's out with the posse trying to get trace of the scoundrel. I guess he'll shoot him if he finds him." "But why is Mrs. Riddle absent at such a time?" "Governor, that's the worst part of it. She was the one that helped that devil to escape. And she--she went with him!" To the end of his days Governor G. W. Blankenship was known as the man who never told a lie. When he died they carved something to that general effect upon his tombstone. GOOD SAM [Decoration] From the foot of the lake where most of the camps were, everybody had been driven out by the forest-fire. Among those who fled up to our end and took temporary quarters on the hotel reservation was my friend, the Native Genius.