Up to September 20 the governor made no sign. When Bowen went to his
duties on the night of the 20th he met the sheriff.

"Has any reprieve arrived yet?" asked Bowen. The sheriff shook his head
sadly. He had never yet hanged a man, and did not wish to begin.

"No," said the sheriff. "And from what I heard this afternoon none is
likely to arrive. The governor has made up his mind at last that the
law must take its course."

"I'm glad of that," said Bowen.

"Well, I'm not."

After nine o'clock messages almost ceased coming in, and Bowen sat
reading the evening paper. Suddenly there came a call for the office,
and the operator answered. As the message came over the wire, Bowen
wrote it down mechanically from the clicking instrument, not
understanding its purport; but when he read it, he jumped to his feet,
with an oath. He looked wildly around the room, then realised with a
sigh of relief that he was alone, except for the messenger boy who sat
dozing in a corner, with his cap over his eyes. He took up the telegram
again, and read it with set teeth.

"_Sheriff of Brenting County, Brentingville_.

"Do not proceed further with execution of Prior. Sentence commuted.
Documents sent off by to-night's mail registered. Answer that you
understand this message.