For an hour Porter slept, and during that time Katherine stayed by him, moistening the folded handkerchief and chafing his wrists. The Captain, his importance and self-command oozing away a bit at a time as he watched the cool, quiet girl, hovered near as often as his dignity would permit with offers of assistance, most of which Katherine accepted. He put her horses and trap in charge of a militiaman, he brought out a rocking-chair for her, and when, a little after eight o'clock, Porter showed signs of waking, he sent out for some breakfast. On Porter, the touch of sleep, the welcome cup of coffee, and more than anything else his daughter's soothing presence, seemed to have a marked effect. He sat up, leaning back heavily, and with a struggle collected his thoughts. Katherine joked with him, and fussed over him with a maternal solicitude that made the Captain smile. At eight-thirty, as Porter was sipping another cup of coffee, the corporal appeared. “A man says he's got to see Mr. Porter, sir. A Mr. McNally.” “McNally,” cried Porter, starting up only to sink back, breathing heavily. “Bring him here. I've got to see him.” The Captain hesitated. “Did he state his business?” “No, sir. But he has a pass through the lines at Sawyerville, signed by Colonel Wray.” “Um--let him come in.” It was not the Mr. McNally who had played for Katherine two nights before. That had been a well-groomed, self-possessed man of the world; this was a muddy, unshaven, angry man, who spoke in a loud voice and smothered an oath just too late to keep it from her ear. He recovered somewhat, but even McNally could not lose sleep and temper for so many hours without a more or less immediate result. As she looked at him with a cool bow, Katherine thought of Harvey, and something caught in her throat. “Well,” said Porter, “what about it? What's happened? Who's running this road?” McNally looked curiously at the Captain before he replied. That officer, at an appealing glance from Katherine, left the group. “The Governor is running it. He's played a game that knocks us silly. He's come down on us and cinched things for the senatorship at one crack.” “What do you mean?” In his excitement Porter sat erect. “The Old Man has declared the M. & T. under military rule until the courts choose to settle it to suit themselves. That throws us out, throws Weeks out, and the devil take the hindmost.” “Has there been trouble?” “They smashed into us at Sawyerville”--he suddenly remembered Katherine--“Excuse me, Miss Porter, I must see your father alone.” “He cannot be excited, Mr. McNally.” “There is no time to waste--” Katherine turned abruptly and went into the office.