"The orders are very strict," he said. "But the President told me to give
precedence to cases when a life is in question. Just you wait a minute,
miss, until Governor Doddridge comes out, and I'll see what I can do for
you. Give me your name, please, miss."

She remained standing where she was. In a little while the heavy door
opened, and a portly, rubicund man came out with a smile on his face. He
broke into a laugh, when halfway across the room, as if the memory of
what he had heard were too much for his gravity. The doorkeeper slipped
into the room, and there was a silent, anxious interval. Then he came out
again.

"The President will see you, miss."

Captain Lige started forward with her, but she restrained him.

"Wait for me here, Lige," she said.

She swept in alone, and the door closed softly after her. The room was a
big one, and there were maps on the table, with pins sticking in them.
She saw that much, and then--!

Could this fantastically tall, stooping figure before her be that of the
President of the United States? She stopped, as from the shock he gave
her. The lean, yellow face with the mask-like lines all up and down, the
unkempt, tousled hair, the beard--why, he was a hundred times more
ridiculous than his caricatures. He might have stood for many of the poor
white trash farmers she had seen in Kentucky--save for the long black
coat.