"
"I _must_ get in," I said. "You've got a man in there on a
false charge."
"So they all say," he retorted, calmly, and spat halfway across the
road. "You wouldn't believe any of our boarders had a right to be
here if you could hear their friends talk."
I showed him Governor Stafford's card. He was rather impressed
by this, and retired into a sentry-box in the wall--to telephone,
I suppose.
Presently he came back.
"The sheriff says he'll see you, ma'am. But you'll have to leave
this here dynamite caboose behind." He unlocked a little door in the
immense iron gate, and turned me over to another man inside. "Take
this here lady to the sheriff," he said.
Some of Vigor county's prisoners must have learned to be pretty good
gardeners, for certainly the grounds were in good condition. The
grass was green and trimly mowed; there were conventional beds of
flowers in very ugly shapes; in the distance I saw a gang of men
in striped overalls mending a roadway. The guide led me to an
attractive cottage to one side of the main building.
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