Drexel drove into the prison yard, more than half expecting the gates to close behind him with a clang. They did not, but that proved nothing. The governor would wait till he had him in the prison itself before he sprang the trap. In the court the prison van stood ready. But that also proved nothing. Drexel stepped from his sleigh, his nerves as taut as violin strings, and crossed to the prison entrance. Suddenly from the blackness overhead there rushed down a wild tumult of bells. He stood frozen in his tracks. This was the signal, the alarm! He looked to see every door burst open and belch out scores of guards. The next moment his heart beat again. That horrific alarm was only the chimes of the Fortress Cathedral hymning “Glory to God in Zion,” and announcing that it was three of the night. He put his guards in charge of the van, then crossed the court and entered the governor’s office. Colonel Kavelin, who sat at his desk smoking a cigarette and making an erasure in a record with a big knife, stood stiffly up. Drexel glanced keenly into the broad bearded face. There was a glint to the sharp beady eyes that boded unpleasantness. Had he telephoned? “Captain Laroque?” queried the governor. Drexel put on a formidable look to match his name, one part brutality to one part swagger. “At your service, Colonel Kavelin,” he returned, holding himself ready to make a dash out of the door. “I suppose you know my business. You had a message from the administrator of prisons?” “I had two,” growled the governor. “Two!” Drexel backed nearer the door. “Yes, two.” “The second--when did you get it?” “Five minutes ago.” “You--you called him up?” “No. He called me up.” Drexel caught at hope. “What did he say?” “He said to tell you, when you had finished, to come back to him.” Sabatoff! “The transfer of these prisoners may seem all right to him,” the governor went on, suddenly flaring into anger. “But to remove them on the very first day I am in charge, it is an insult--it is casting doubt on my watchfulness and trustworthiness.” So that was the meaning of the governor’s black manner! He had been pricked in his professional pride, and since he dared not vent his spleen on those above he was venting it on their agent. “Come, colonel,” said Drexel soothingly. “I understand. I am more sorry than you that it is necessary for me to be here on this errand. Can I say more?” The scowl slowly lifted from the governor’s face. “Pardon me, captain. I should have remembered that we are both mere order-obeying machines.” He held out his hand. “We might as well be friends. I’ve heard much of you, Captain Laroque, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Drexel took the hand. “Thank you, colonel.”