"Have you an appointment?" he asked.
The visitor shook his head. Scribbling a brief note on a slip of
paper, he enclosed it in an envelope and handed it to his questioner.
"You must pardon my seeming mysteriousness," he said, "but, if you
will let me send in that note, I think the Governor will see me."
Once more the Secretary studied his man with a slightly puzzled air,
then nodded and went through the door that gave admission to the
Executive's office.
His Excellency opened the envelope, and his face showed an expression
of surprise. He raised his brows questioningly.
"Rough-looking sort?" he inquired. "Mountaineer?"
"No, sir. New Yorker would be my guess. Is there anything suspicious?"
"I guess not." The Governor laughed. "Rather extraordinary note, but
send him in."
Through his eastern window, the Governor gazed off across the hills of
South Frankfort, to the ribbon of river that came down from the
troublesome hills. Then, hearing a movement at his back, he turned, and
his eyes took in a well-dressed figure with confidence-inspiring
features.
He picked up the slip from his desk, and, for a moment, stood
comparing the name and the message with the man who had sent them in.
There seemed to be in his mind some irreconcilable contradiction
between the two. With a slightly frowning seriousness, the Executive
suggested: "This note says that you are Samson South, and that you want to see me
with reference to a pardon. Whose pardon is it, Mr. South?"
"My own, sir."
The Governor raised his brows, slightly.
"Your pardon for what? The newspapers do not even report that you have
yet been indicted." He shaded the word "yet" with a slight emphasis.
"I think I have been indicted within the past day or two. I'm not sure
myself."
The Governor continued to stare. The impression he had formed of the
"Wildcat" from press dispatches was warring with the pleasing personal
presence of this visitor. Then, his forehead wrinkled under his black
hair, and his lips drew themselves sternly.
"You have come to me too soon, sir," he said curtly. "The pardoning
power is a thing to be most cautiously used at all times, and certainly
never until the courts have acted. A case not yet adjudicated cannot
address itself to executive clemency."
Samson nodded.
"Quite true," he admitted. "If I announced that I had come on the
matter of a pardon, it was largely that I had to state some business
and that seemed the briefest way of putting it."