would throw the most of influence or money to that splendidly
organised machine that Francis controlled.

With an effort he shook himself free from his cheerless retrospect.
There was a thing or two he wanted to get from his desk, and his
time was growing very short. He found what he wanted, and then, just
as he was about to close the drawer, his eye fell on a large yellow
envelope.

He closed the drawer; but only to reopen it, take out the envelope
and remove the documents it contained; and then one by one he spread
them out before him on the desk.

He sat there looking down at them, wondering whether a man had ever
stepped into office with as many pitfalls laid for him. During the
last month they had been busy about the old State-house setting
traps for the new Governor. The "machine" was especially jubilant
over those contracts the Governor now had spread out before him. The
convict labour question was being fought out in the State just
then--organised labour demanding its repeal; country taxpayers
insisting that it be maintained. Under the system the penitentiary
had become self-supporting. In November the contracts had come up
for renewal; but on the request of Harvey Francis the matter had
been put off from time to time, and still remained open. Just the
week before, Francis had put it to the Governor something like this:

"Don't sign those contracts. We can give some reason for holding
them off, and save them up for Leyman. Then we can see that the
question is agitated, and whatever he does about it is going to
prove a bad thing for him. If he doesn't sign, he's in bad with the