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 room and closed the door. He heard nothing clearly, for Handy's voice came to him smothered, and the governor's not at all. Once he thought he heard "mawkish sentiment," and "the action of a political imbecile," but what he mostly distinguished was muffled profanity. The young man for the first time in his experience was delighted when his bell buzzed just then. When he entered upon the scene, the governor, rocking complacently in his high-backed chair, was saying:

"But what if it's my duty?"

"Duty be damned!" shouted Handy, rising to his feet, and smiting the desk with a heavy fist he had had folded during the conversation. The wrath which the politician had kept bottled up overnight had burst out at last.

"I am running this campaign," he cried, "and as long as I do run it, I do not propose to tolerate such incredible folly as pardoning Tom Whalen."

Gilman, wide-eyed, gazed in amaze at the two men. Handy stood glaring at the governor, his fist fastened where it had fallen. The governor's lips were tightly compressed. A sheet of scarlet swept over his dark face. Both men were strong