dual you are at liberty to hold such opinions as you
please. As editor of The Patriot--"

"I am to support The Patriot candidate and owner. Did you send for me to
tell me that, Mr. Marrineal? I'm not altogether an idiot, please
remember."

"You are a friend of Judge Enderby."

"If I am, that is a personal, not a political matter. No matter how much
I might prefer to see him the candidate of the party"--Banneker spoke
with cold deliberation--"I should not stultify myself or the paper by
supporting him against the paper's owner."

"That is satisfactory." Marrineal swallowed the affront without a gulp.
"To continue. If I am elected governor, nothing on earth can prevent my
being the presidential nominee two years later."

Equally appalled and amused by the enormous egotism of the man thus
suddenly revealed, Banneker studied him in silence.

"Nothing in the world," repeated the other. "I have the political game
figured out to an exact science. I know how to shape my policies, how to
get the money backing I need, how to handle the farmer and labor. It may
be news to you to know that I now control eight of the leading farm
journals of the country and half a dozen labor organs. However, this is
beside the question. My point with you is this. With my election as
governor, my chief interest in The Patriot ceases. The paper will have
set me on the road; I'll do the rest. Reserving only the right to
determine certain very broad policies, I purpose to turn over the
control of The Patriot to you."

"To me!" said Banneker, thunderstruck.

"Provided I am elected governor," said Marrineal. "Which depends
largely--yes, almost entirely--on the elimination of Judge Enderby."

"What are you asking me to do?" demanded Banneker, genuinely puzzled.

"Absolutely nothing. As my right-hand man on the paper, you are entitled
to know my plans, particularly as they affect you. I can add that when I
reach the White House"--this with sublime confidence--"the paper will be
for sale and you may have the option on it."

Banneker's brain seemed filled with flashes of light, as he returned to
his desk. He sat there, deep-slumped in his chair, thinking, planning,
suspecting, plumbing for the depths of Marrineal's design, and above all
filled with an elate ambition. Not that he believed for a moment in
Marrineal's absurd and megalomaniacal visions of the presidency. But the
governorship; that indeed was possible enough; and that would mean a
fr