So I refused the offer, and explained the situation a little more
fully.
"Well," he said, "then let me help in any way I can." He took a
card from his pocket-book and scribbled something on it. "When you
get to Port Vigor," he said, "show this at the jail and I don't
think you'll have any trouble. I happen to know the people there."
So after a hand-shake all round I went on again, much cheered by
this friendly little incident. It wasn't till I was some way along
the road that I thought of looking at the card he had given me. Then
I realized why the man's face had been familiar. The card read quite
simply:
RALEIGH STONE STAFFORD
The Executive Mansion,
Darlington.
It was the Governor of the State!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I couldn't help chuckling, as Parnassus came over the brow of the
hill, and I saw the river in the distance once more. How different
all this was from my girlhood visions of romance. That has been
characteristic of my life all along--it has been full of homely,
workaday happenings, and often rather comic in spite of my best
resolves to be highbrow and serious.
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