"Yes, right now. I want to talk to you and talk to you hard. I've read all the New York papers and know all that's going on.... And say, look here, you'd better tell your people there to be on the look-out for a tramp and a con man, for they'll never let us in unless you do." "Who's the con man?" queried the Colonel, not fully recovered from the shock that Wilkinson had given him. Whereupon Wilkinson without reply rang off. Fifteen minutes later Colonel Morehead threw open his bedroom door in the Barristers' Club and threw his arms about his disreputable-looking client. "Peter, the sight of you is good for sore eyes!" he cried. Colonel Morehead stiffened for an instant at the sight of the other man, and bowing gravely merely said: "How do you do, sir?" "Colonel," began Wilkinson, as he threw himself into a chair and stretched his legs wide apart. "I'll come to the point at once." The Colonel was all attention. "I note by the papers that you are keeping the legislature a devil of a long time selecting a new man to replace Beekman. You will naturally want to know," Wilkinson went on, "why we call upon you in such haste this morning." He waved his hand toward Leech. "Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Leech, at present an assistant district attorney of this county, and the next Governor of the State of New York." Morehead stared at Wilkinson as one hypnotised. "Why?" he demanded, at length. Wilkinson did not answer at once, but drew him into the adjoining room where he related, among other things, the happenings of the last two days. At the conclusion, he remarked: "A man who asks for a million-dollar bribe is our man, isn't he, Morehead? But there is one thing more I want to say: Don't you forget it that I figured out this thing myself." XXII Some few weeks after his visit to Colonel Morehead at the Barristers' Club, Peter V. Wilkinson presented himself at the Riverside Drive house. He had waited until he had grown a stubbly beard once more before introducing himself to his family, and then one morning, feeling very much as he looked, he had come in straggling, half-dazed, tired, bedraggled, a sad object to behold, but in spite of all he was received, like the proverbial prodigal, with open arms. Then followed days of explanation and secret conferences. His family physician had diagnosed his case as one of loss of memory; Murgatroyd had thrown up his hat in glee; the county force at once became active; the newspapers chattered in cold type like magpies; and what is more, the final stay obtained by Colonel Morehead was drawing to a close. But all the time that Murgatroyd felt that he had at last landed Wilkinson, Leech kept his own counsel, and secretly he was very happy. For did he not hold within his grasp the governorship, wealth, and in his arms, almost, the daughter of Peter V. Wilkinson?