“There can be no doubt of that, Governor. I think they all have to admit that. Huntington is the man the people want.” “That's all, Mr. Haines. I merely wondered what you thought about it.” Soon after that Governor Berriman rang for a messenger boy and sent a telegram. Then he settled quietly down to routine work. It was about eleven when one of the newspaper men came in. “Good-morning, Governor,” he said briskly “how's everything to-day?” “All right, Mr. Markham. I have nothing to tell you to-day, except that I've made the senatorial appointment.” “Oh,” laughed the reporter excitedly, “that's all, is it?” “Yes,” replied the Governor, smiling too; “that's all!” The reporter looked at the clock. “I'll just catch the noon edition,” he said, “if I telephone right away.” He was moving to the other room when the Governor called to him. “See here, it seems to me you're a strange newspaper man!” “How so?” “Why, I tell you I've made a senatorial appointment--a matter of some slight importance--and you rush off never asking whom I've appointed.” The reporter gave a forced laugh. He wished the Governor would not detain him with a joke now when every second counted. “That's right,” he said, with strained pleasantness. “Well, who's the man?” The Governor raised his head. “Huntington,” he said quietly, and resumed his work. “What?” gasped the reporter. “What?” Then he stopped in embarrassment, as if ashamed of being so easily taken in. “Guess you're trying to jolly me a little, aren't you, Governor?” “Jolly you, Mr. Markham? I'm not given to 'jollying' newspaper reporters. Here's a copy of the telegram I sent this morning, if you are still sceptical. Really, I don't see why you think it so impossible. Don't you consider Mr. Huntington a fit man for the place?” But for the minute the reporter seemed unable to speak. “May I ask,” he fumbled at last, “why you did it?” “I had but one motive, Mr. Markham. I thought the matter over and it seemed to me the people should have the man they wanted. I am with them in believing Huntington the best man for the place.” He said it simply, and went quietly back to his work. For many a long day politicians and papers continued the search for “the motive.” Styles and his crowd saw it as a simple matter of selling out; they knew, of course, that it could be nothing else. After their first rage had subsided, and they saw there was nothing they could do, they wondered, sneeringly, why he did not “fix up a better story.” That was a little _too_ simple-minded. Did he think people were fools? And even the men who profited by the situation puzzled their brains for weeks trying to understand it. There was something behind it, of course. XI HIS AMERICA He hated to see the reporter go. With the closing of that door it seemed certain that there was no putting it off any longer. But even when the man's footsteps were at last sounding on the stairway, he still clung to him.