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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Caleb Conover, Railroader</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Albert Payson Terhune</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 11, 2022 [eBook #67374]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CALEB CONOVER, RAILROADER ***</div> - -<div class='tnotes covernote'> - -<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> - -<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> - -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/i_frontispiece.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>Something swished through the air from behind Clive’s head. Page <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class='titlepage'> - -<div> - <h1 class='c001'>Caleb Conover, Railroader</h1> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>By</div> - <div><span class='xlarge'>ALBERT PAYSON TERHUNE</span></div> - <div class='c003'><span class='small'><em>Author of “Syria from the Saddle,” “Dr. Dale” (in collaboration with Marion Harland), “Columbia Stories,” Etc.</em></span></div> - <div class='c002'><span class='sc'>New York</span></div> - <div>CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY</div> - <div>Publishers</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c004'> - <div><span class='small'><span class='sc'>Copyright, 1907, by</span></span></div> - <div><span class='small'>ALBERT PAYSON TERHUNE.</span></div> - <div class='c002'><span class='small'><em>Entered at Stationers’ Hall.</em></span></div> - <div><span class='small'><em>All rights reserved.</em></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table class='table0'> - <tr> - <th class='c006'><span class='small'>CHAPTER</span></th> - <th class='c007'> </th> - <th class='c008'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>I.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Caleb Conover Receives</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_5'>5</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>II.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Caleb Conover Makes a Speech</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_27'>27</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>III.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Caleb Conover Regrets</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_44'>44</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>IV.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>In Two Camps</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_74'>74</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>V.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>A Meeting, an Interruption and a Letter</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_90'>90</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>VI.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Caleb Works at Long Range</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_115'>115</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>VII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Caleb Undergoes a “Home Evening”</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_145'>145</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>VIII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Caleb Conover Listens and Answers</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_173'>173</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>IX.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>A Convention and a Revelation</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_193'>193</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>X.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Anice Intervenes</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_207'>207</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XI.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Caleb Conover Makes Terms</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_227'>227</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Caleb Conover Fights</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_247'>247</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XIII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>The Fourth Messenger of Job</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_272'>272</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XIV.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Caleb Conover Loses and Wins</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_291'>291</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XV.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Dunderberg Solves the Difficulty</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_314'>314</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/i_003.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>(<span class='sc'>Facsimile Page of Manuscript from CALEB CONOVER, Railroader</span>)</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter ph1'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c004'> - <div>CALEB CONOVER,</div> - <div>RAILROADER</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER I<br /> <span class='large'>CALEB CONOVER RECEIVES</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>“The poor man!” sighed Mrs. Greer. -“He must think he’s a cemetery!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The long line of carriages was passing solemnly -through a mighty white marble arch, -aglare with electric light, leading into the -“show place” of Pompton Avenue.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Athwart the arch’s pallid face, in raised -letters a full foot in length were the words:</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>“CALEB CONOVER, R.R., 1893.”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>In the ghastly, garish illumination, above -the slow-moving procession of sombre vehicles, -the arch and its inscription gave gruesome -excuse for Mrs. Greer’s comment. She -herself thought the phrase rather apt, and -stored it away for repetition.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Her husband, a downy little man, curled up -<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>miserably in the other corner of the brougham, -read her thought, from long experience, -and twisted forward into what he liked to -think was a commanding attitude.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Look here!” he protested. “You’ve got -to stop that. It’s bad enough to have to come -here at all, without your spoiling everything -with one of those Bernard Shawisms of -yours. Why, if it ever got back to Conover’s -ears——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He’d withdraw his support? And then -good-by to Congress for the unfortunate Talbot -Firth Greer?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just that. He’ll stand all sorts of criticism -about his start in life. In fact, he revels -in talking of his rise to anyone who’ll listen. -But when it comes to guying anything in his -present exalted——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What does the ‘R. R.’ at the end of his -name over the gate stand for? I’ve seen the -inscription often enough, but——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Railroader.’ He uses it as a sort of title. -Life for him is one long railroad, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And now we’re to do him honor at the -terminus?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If you like to put it that way. Perhaps -‘junction’ would hit it closer. It was awfully -good of you, Grace, to come. I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Of course it was. If I didn’t want a try -at Washington I’d never have dared it. It -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>will be in all the papers to-morrow. He’ll -see to that. And then—I hate to think what -everyone will say. I suppose we’re the first -civilized people who ever passed under that -atrocious hanging mortuary chapel, aren’t -we?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hardly as bad as that. If it’s any comfort -to you, there are plenty more in the same -box as ourselves, to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But surely everybody in Granite can’t -want to run for Congress?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No. But enough people have axes of -their own to grind to make it worth their -while to visit the Conover whetstone. When -a man who can float companies at a word, -boom or smash a dozen different stocks, -swing the Legislature, make himself heard -from here to Washington, and carries practically -every newspaper in the Mountain State -in his vest pocket; when——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“When such a man whistles, there are -some people who find it wise not to be deaf. -But what on earth does he <em>want</em> us for?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The world-old ambition that had its rise -when Cain and Abel began moving in separate -sets. The longing to ‘butt in,’ as Caleb -himself would probably call it. He has everything -money and political power can give. -And now he wants the only thing left—what -he terms ‘social recognition.’”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>“And we are to help——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No. We’re to let him <em>think</em> we help. -All the king’s horses and all the king’s men, -assisted by a score of Conover’s own freight -derricks, couldn’t hoist that cad into a decent -crowd. He’s been at it ever since he -got his first million and married poor little -Letty Standish. She was the fool of her -family, and a broken family at that. But -still it was a family. Yet it didn’t land -Caleb anywhere. Then, when that unlicked -cub of a son of his grew up, he made another -try. But you know how that turned out. -Now that his daughter’s captured a more or -less authentic prince, I suppose he thinks the -time has come. Hence to-night’s——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What a blow to his hopes it must have -been to have the girl marry in Paris instead -of here at Granite! But I suppose the honeymoon -in America and this evening’s reception -are the next best thing. Are we never -to get there?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Soon enough, I’m afraid. Conover boasts -that he’s laid out his grounds so that the driveway -is a measured half-mile. We’ll be there -in another minute or so.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mrs. Greer laughed a little nervously.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’ll be something to remember anyway,” -said she. “I suppose all sorts of horrible -people will be there. I read a half-page account -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>of it this morning in the <cite>Star</cite>, and it -said that ‘while the proudest families of -Granite would delight to do Mr. Conover -honor, the humbler associates of political and -business life would also be present.’ Did you -ever hear anything more delicious? And in -the <cite>Star</cite>, too!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“His own paper. Why not? I suppose -<em>we’re</em> the ‘proudest families’; and the ‘humbler -associates’ are some of the choice retinue -of heelers who do his dirty work. Lord! -what a notice of it there’ll be in to-morrow’s -papers! Washington will have to be very -much worth while to make up for this. If -only I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hush!” warned Mrs. Greer, as the carriage -lurched to a halt, in the pack before a -great <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">porte-cochère</span></i>. “We’re actually here at -last. See! There goes Clive Standish up the -steps with the Polissen girls and old Mr. Polissen. -There are a <em>few</em> real human beings -here, after all. Why do you suppose——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“H’m!” commented Greer, “Polissen’s -‘long’ on Interstate Canal, the route Conover’s -C. G. & X. Road is threatening to -put out of business. But why young Standish——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why not? Letty Conover’s own nephew. -Though I did hear he and the Conovers were -scarcely on speaking terms. He——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>“I fancy that’s because Standish’s ‘Mayflower’ -back is too stiff to bend at the crack -of Caleb’s whip. He could have made a -mighty good thing of his law business if Conover -had backed him. But I understand he -refuses to ally himself with his great relative-in-law, -and prefers a good social position -and a small law practice——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Rather than go to Congress?” finished -his wife with such sweet innocence that Greer -could only glare at her with flabby helplessness. -Before he could think of an apt retort, -the brougham was at the foot of the endless -marble steps, and its late occupants were -passing up a wide strip of velvet between -rows of vividly liveried footmen.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Caleb Conover, Railroader, was standing -just within the wide doorway of a drawing-room -that seemed to stretch away into infinity. -Behind rose an equally infinite vista -of heads and shoulders. But the loudly -blended murmur of many voices that is the -first thing to strike the ear of arriving guests -at such functions was conspicuously absent. -The scarce-broken hush that spread through -the chain of rooms seemed to bear out still -further Mrs. Greer’s mortuary simile.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But the constraint in no way extended to -the host himself. The strong, alert face, with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>its shrewd light eyes and humorous mouth, -was wreathed in welcoming smiles that seemed -to ripple in a series of waves from the close-cut -reddish hair to the ponderous iron jaw. -The thickset form of the Railroader, massive -of shoulder and sturdily full of limb, was ever -plunging forward to grip some favored newcomer -by the hand, or darting to one side or -the other as he whispered instructions to servant -or relative.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I congratulate you on your friend’s repose -of manner!” whispered Mrs. Greer, as -she and her husband awaited their turn. -“He has all the calm self-assurance of a -jumping jack.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But there are springs of chilled steel in -the jumping jack,” whispered Greer. “He’s -out of his element, and he knows it. But he -isn’t so badly confused for all that. If you -saw him at a convention or a board meeting, -you wouldn’t know him for the same——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And there’s his poor little wife, looking -as much like a rabbit as ever! She’s a cipher -here; and even her husband’s figure in front -of her doesn’t raise the cipher to the tenth -power. I suppose that is the daughter, to -Mrs. Conover’s left? The slender girl with -the rust-colored hair and the brown eyes? -She’s prettier and more of a thoroughbred in -looks than I should have——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>“That’s not his daughter. That’s Miss -Lanier, Conover’s secretary. His daughter -is the——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“His secretary? Why, is she receiving?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She is his secretary and everything else. -She came here three years ago as Blanche’s -governess. To give the poor girl a sort of -winding-up polish before Caleb sent her to -Europe. She made all sorts of a hit with Conover. -Principally because she’s the only person -on earth who isn’t afraid of him, so I -hear. And now she is secretary, and major -domo, and ‘right-hand man,’ and I don’t -know what not else. Mrs. Conover’s only a -‘cipher,’ as you say, and Miss Alice Lanier—not -Caleb—is the ‘figure’ in front of her. -That’s the new-made princess, to the right. -The tall one with the no-colored hair. I suppose -that’s the Prince d’Antri beside her.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He’s too handsome to be a very real -prince. What a face for a sculptor or——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Or a barber. A beard like that——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A gorgeously apparelled couple just in -front of the Greers, in the line, moved forward -within the zone of Conover’s greeting. -Caleb nodded patronizingly to the man, and -more civilly to the woman.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mr. Conover,” the latter was murmuring -in an anguish of respectful embarrassment, -“’tis a great honor you do me and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>man, askin’ us here to-night with all your -stylish friends, an’——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, there’s more than your husband and -me, here, who’d get hungry by habit if they -heard a noon whistle blow,” laughed Conover, -as with a jerk of his red head and a -word of pleasant welcome, he passed them -on down the reception line. Then the Railroader’s -light, deep-set eyes fell on Greer, -and he stepped forward, both hands outstretched.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good evening, Greer!” he cried, and -there was a subcurrent of latent power in his -hearty voice. “Good evening! Pleased to -see you in my house. Mrs. Greer, I presume? -Most kind of you to come, ma’am. -Proud to make your acquaintance. Letty!”—summoning -with a jerk of the head an -overdressed, frightened-looking little woman -from the line behind him—“Letty, this is -my very good friend, Mr. Talbot Firth Greer—Mrs. -Conover—Mr. and Mrs. Greer. Mr. -Greer is the next Congressman from the -Eleventh District. (That’s a little prophecy, -Mr. Greer. You can gamble on its coming -true.) My daughter, Princess d’Antri—Mr. -and Mrs. Greer. Prince Amadeo d’Antri. -My secretary, Miss Anice Lanier—Mr. and -Mrs.——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A new batch of guests swarmed down the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>hall toward the host, and the ordeal was over. -The Greers, swept on in the rush, did not hear -Conover’s next greeting. This was rather a -pity, since it differed materially from that -lavished upon themselves.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Its recipient was a big young man, with a -shock of light hair and quiet, dark eyes. He -wore his clothes well, and looked out of -place in his vulgar, garish surroundings. -Caleb Conover, Railroader, eyed the newcomer -all over with a cold, expressionless -glance. A glance that no seer on earth could -have read; the glance that had gained him -more than one victory when wits and concealment -of purpose were rife. Then he held out -a grudging hand.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, Mr. Clive Standish,” he observed, -“it seems the lion and the lamb lie down together, -after all—a considerable distance this -side of the millennium. And the lamb inside, -at that. To think of a clubman and a cotillon -leader, and a first-families scion and a Civic -Leaguer and all that sort of thing condescending -to honor my poor shanty——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My aunt, Mrs. Conover, wrote, asking me -especially to come, as a favor to her,” replied -the younger man stiffly. “I thought——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And you were O. K. in thinking it. I -know Letty wrote, because I dictated the letter. -I wanted to count you in with the rest -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>to-night, and I had a kind of bashful fear -that your love for me, personally, might not -be strong enough to fetch you. You’ve got -too much sense to think the invite will score -either way in our feelings to each other, or -that I’m going back on what I said to you -four years ago. Now that you’re here, chase -in and enjoy yourself. This place is like -heaven, to-night, in one way. You’ll see a -whole lot of people here you never expected -to, and you’ll miss more’n a few you thought -would sure belong. Good-by. Don’t let me -block your job of heavenly recognition.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The wilful coarseness and brutality of the -man came as no surprise to Standish. He -had expected something of the sort, and had -braced himself for it. To please his aunt, -whom he sincerely pitied, he had entered the -Conover house to-night for the first time -since the Homeric quarrel, incident on his refusal -to avail himself of Caleb’s prestige in -his law work, and, incidentally to enroll himself -as one of the Railroader’s numberless -political vassals. That the roughness to -which Conover had just subjected him was -no more a part of the former’s real nature -than had been the nervous effusiveness of -his greeting to the Greers, Clive well knew. -It had been intended to cover any embarrassing -memories of a former and somewhat less -<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>strained acquaintanceship; and as such it—like -most of Conover’s moves—had served its -turn.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So, resisting his first impulse to depart as -he had come, Standish moved on. The formal -receiving phalanx was crumpling up. He -paused for a moment’s talk with little Mrs. -Conover, exchanged a civil word or two with -his cousin Blanche and her prince, and then -came to where Anice Lanier was trying to -make conversation for several awed-looking, -bediamonded persons who were evidently -horribly ill at ease in their surroundings.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At sight of the girl, the formal lines about -Clive’s mouth were broken by a smile of -very genuine pleasure. A smile that gave a -younger aspect to his grave face, and found -ready answer in the brown eyes that met his.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Haven’t you toiled at a forlorn hope long -enough?” he asked, as the awed beings -drifted away into the uncomfortable crowd, -carrying their burden of jewels with them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A forlorn hope?” she queried, puzzled.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You actually seemed to be trying to galvanize -at least a segment of this portentous -gathering into a semblance of life. Don’t do -it. In the first place you can’t. Saloonkeepers -and Pompton Avenue people won’t -blend. In the second place, it isn’t expected -of you. The papers to-morrow will record -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>the right names just as jealously as if every -one had had a good time. Suppose you concentrate -all your efforts on me. Come! It -will be a real work of charity. For Mr. Conover -has just shown me how thoroughly I’m -the prodigal. And he didn’t even hint at the -whereabouts of a fatted calf. Please be merciful -and make me have a good time. It’s -months since I’ve seen you to talk to.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then why don’t you come here oftener?” -she asked, as they made their way through the -press, and found an unoccupied alcove between -two of the great rooms. “I’m sure -Mrs. Conover——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My poor aunt? She’d be frightened to -death that Conover and I would quarrel. -No, no! To-night is an exception. The first -and the last. I persuaded myself I came because -of Aunt Letty’s note. But I really -came for a chat with you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>She looked at him, doubting how to accept -this bald compliment. But his face was boyish -in its sincerity.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You and I used to be such good friends,” -he went on, “and now we never see any more -of each other. Why don’t we?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I think you know as well as I. You no -longer come here—you have not come, I -think, since a year before I arrived. And I -go almost nowhere since——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>“Since you gave up all your old world and -the people who cared for you and became a -drudge in the Conover household? If you -were to be found anywhere else, you would -see so much of me that I’d bore you to extinction. -But it would be even unpleasanter for -you than for me if I were to call on you here. -I miss our old-time talks more than I can -say.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I miss them, too. Do you remember how -we used to argue over politics, and how you -always ended by telling me that there were -two things no woman could understand, and -that politics was one and finance the other?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And you would always make the same -retort: That woman’s combined ignorance of -politics and finance were pure knowledge as -compared with the men’s ignorance of women. -It wasn’t especially logical repartee, but it -always served to shut me up.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I wish we had time for another political -spat. Some day we must. You see, I’ve -learned such a lot about politics—and finance, -too—<em>practical</em> politics and finance—since I -came here.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Decidedly ‘practical,’ I fancy, if Mr. -Conover was your teacher. He doesn’t go in -much for idealism.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And you?” asked Anice, ignoring the -slur. “Are you still as rabid as ever in your -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>ideas of reform? But, of course, you are. -For I read only last week that you had been -elected President of the Civic League. I -want to congratulate you. It’s a splendid -movement, even though Mr. Conover declares -it’s hopeless.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good citizenship is never quite hopeless, -even in a boss-ridden community like Granite, -and a boss-governed commonwealth like the -Mountain State. The people will wake up -some day.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Their snores sound very peaceful and -regular just now,” remarked Anice, with a -flippancy whereof she had the grace to be -ashamed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Perhaps,” he smiled, “the sounds you -and Conover mistake for snores may possibly -be groans.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How delightfully dramatic! That would -sound splendidly on the stump.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It may have a chance to.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What do you mean? Are you going -to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No. I am going to run for governor this -fall.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“WHAT?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do you know,” observed Standish, -“when you open your eyes that way you -really look——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>“Never mind how I look! Tell me -about——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My campaign? It is nothing yet. But -the Civic League is planning one more effort -to shake off Conover’s grip on the -throat of the Mountain State—another good -‘stump’ line, by the way. And I have been -asked to run for governor.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, yes, I know. Conover holds the Convention -in the hollow of his hand. He owns -the delegates and the newspapers and the -Legislature as well as the railroads. And no -sane man would dream of bucking such a -combination. But maybe I’m not quite sane. -For I’m going to try it. Now laugh all you -like.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Laugh? I feel more like crying. It’s—it’s -knightly and <em>splendid</em> of you, Clive! -And—perhaps it may prove less crazy than -you think.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You mean?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I mean nothing at all. I wish you luck, -though. All the luck in the world. Tell me -more.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There is no more. Besides, I’d rather -talk about <em>you</em>. Tell me of your life here.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There’s nothing to tell. It’s work. -Pleasant enough work, even though it’s hard. -Everyone is nice to me. I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>“That doesn’t explain your choosing such -a career out of all that were open to you. -Why did you take it?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve often explained it to you, but you -never seem to understand. When father -died, he left me nothing. I had my living to -make, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But surely there were a thousand easier, -pleasanter ways of earning it than to kill -yourself socially by becoming an employee -in such a family as this. It can’t be congenial——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The odd smile in her eyes checked him and -gave him a vague sense of uneasiness.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It <em>is</em> congenial,” said the girl after a -pause. “I have my own suite of rooms, my -own hours, my own way. I have a natural -bent for finance, and business association -with Mr. Conover is a real education. The -salary is good. My word in all household -matters is law. Mr. Conover knows I understand -how things should be conducted, and he -has grown to rely on me. I am more mistress -here than most women in their own homes. -Mrs. Conover is ill so much—and Blanche -being away——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Anice,” he broke in, “I’ve known you -since you first went into long dresses. And -I know that the reasons you’ve just given are -none of them the sort that appeal to a girl -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>like you. To some women they might. But -not to you. Why did you come here, and -why do you stay? There is some reason you -haven’t——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“’Scuse me, Miss Lanier,” said a voice at -the entrance of the alcove, “the Boss sent -me to ask you would you come to the drorin’-room. -He says the supper-room’s open, an’ -he’d like you to soop’rintend things. I’ve -been lookin’ everywhere for you. Gee, but -goin’ through a bunch of cops in a pool-room -raid is pie alongside of workin’ a way -through this push.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The speaker was a squat, swarthy little -man on whom his ready-made evening clothes -sat with the grace and comfort of a set of -thumb screws. Clive recognized him with -difficulty as the usually self-assured “Billy” -Shevlin, Conover’s most trusted political -henchman.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Very well,” replied Anice Lanier, rising -to obey the summons. She noted the dumb -misery in Billy’s face, and paused to ask:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Aren’t you having a good time, Mr. -Shevlin?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A good time? <em>Me?</em> Oh, yes. <em>Sure</em>, I -am. I only hope no one’ll mistake me in -this open-face suit for a senator or a mattinay -idol. That’s all that’s botherin’ me. -I’ve been rubbin’ elbows with the Van Alstynes -<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>that own half of Pompton Av’no and -live in Yoorup, and with Slat Kerrigan’s -wife, who used to push coffee and sinkers at -Kerry’s beanery. Oh, I’m in sassiety all -right. An’ I feel like a pair of yeller shoes -at a fun’ral.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Never mind!” laughed Anice. “The -supper-room’s open, and you’ll enjoy that -part of the evening, at any rate.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I will, eh? Not me, Miss! The Boss’s -passed the word that the boys is to hold back, -and kind of make a noise like innercent bystanders -till the swell push is all fed. So it’s -me for the merry outskirts while they’re gettin’ -their money’s wort’.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive Standish watched them thread their -way through the crowd, until Anice’s dainty -little head with its crown of shimmering -bronze hair was lost to sight. Then he sat -looking moodily out on the heterogeneous, ill-assorted -company before him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Now that he had talked with Anice he no -longer regretted the impulse that had led him -to accept Mrs. Conover’s invitation. The -girl had always exerted a subtle charm, a -nameless influence, over him. Years before, -when he was struggling, penniless, to make a -living in a city where his family name opened -every door to him, yet where it was more of -an impediment than otherwise in his task of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>bread winning; even then he had worked -with a vague, half-formed hope of Anice -Lanier sharing his final victory.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then had come her own financial reverses, -her father’s death, and her withdrawal from -the world that had known them both. Since -that time circumstances had checked their -growing intimacy. It was pleasant to Standish -to feel that that intimacy and understanding -were now renewed almost just where -they had left off. His battle for livelihood -and success had beaten from him much of -the buoyancy that had once been his charm. -Anice seemed the one link connecting him -with Youth—the link whereby he might one -day win his way back to that dear lost country -of his boyish hopes and dreams. It would -be good to forget, with her, the dreary uphill -struggle that was so bitter and youth-sapping -when endured alone. Then he -laughed grimly at his own silly fantasy, and -came back to every-day self-control.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The rooms were clearing. Clive got to his -feet and followed the general drift toward -the enormous ball-room in the rear of the -mansion that had for the occasion been converted -into a banquet hall.</p> - -<p class='c010'>On the way he encountered a long, lean, -pasty-faced young man who hailed him with -a weary:</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>“Hello, Standish! Didn’t expect to see -you here. Beastly bore, isn’t it? And the -governor dragged me all the way from New -York to show up at it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You spend most of your time in New -York nowadays, don’t you, Jerry?” said -Clive.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Say, old chap,” protested young Conover, -“cut out the ‘Jerry,’ can’t you? My -Christian name’s Gerald. ‘Jerry’ was all -right enough when I was a kid in this one-horse -provincial hole. But it would swamp -a man of my standing in New York.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive had a fair idea of the “standing” in -question. A half-baked lad, turned out of -Harvard after two years of futile loafing, -sent on a trip around the world (that culminated -in a delightfully misspent year in -Paris), at last coming home with a well-grounded -contempt for his native city, and -turned loose at his own request on long-suffering -New York, with more money than belonged -to him and fewer brains than sufficed -to keep it. This in a nutshell was the history—so -far as the world at large knew—of -Caleb Conover’s only son.</p> - -<p class='c010'>From time to time newspaper accounts of -beaten cabmen, suppers that ended in police -stations, and similar feats of youthful gayety -and culture had floated to Granite. Yet -Caleb Conover, otherwise so rigid in the matter -<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>of appearances, read such accounts with -relish, and boasted loudly of the swath his -son was cutting in Gotham society. For, on -Gerald’s word, Conover was firmly assured -that this was the true career of a young man -of fashion. It represented all he had missed -in his own poverty-fighting early manhood, -and he rejoiced in his son’s good times.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Getting rid of Gerald as soon as he decently -might, Standish made his way to the supper-room. -At a hundred tables sat more or less -bored guests. Waiters swirled wildly to and -fro. In a balcony above blared an orchestra. -At the doors and in a fringe about the edges -of the room were grouped the Conover political -and business hangers on. The place was -hot to suffocation and heavy with the scent of -flowers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Suddenly, through the volume of looser -sound, came a succession of sharp raps. The -orchestra stopped short. The guests ceased -speaking, and craned their necks.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At the far end of the room, under a gaudy -floral piece, a man had risen to his feet.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Speech!” yelled Shevlin, enthusiastically, -from a doorway. Then, made aware of his -breach of etiquette by a swift but awful glance -from his chief, he wilted behind a palm.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But Shevlin had read the signs aright.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb Conover, Railroader, was about to -make a speech.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER II<br /> <span class='large'>CALEB CONOVER MAKES A SPEECH</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Conover had broken, that night, two rules -that had for years formed inviolate tenets -of his life creed. In the first place, he—whose -battles had for the most part been won -by the cold eye that told nothing, and by the -colder brain that dictated the words of his -every-day speech as calculatingly as a diplomat -dictates a letter of state—he had forced -himself to throw away his guard and to chatter -and make himself agreeable like any bargain -counter clerk. The effort had been irksome.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the second, he had departed from his -fixed habit of total abstinence. The love of -strong drink ran high in his blood. Early -in life he had decided that such indulgence -would militate against success. So he had -avoided even the mildest potations from -thenceforward. To-night (his usually stolid -nerves tense with the excitement of the grand -cast he was making for “social recognition”) -he had felt, as never before in campaign -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>or in business climax, the need for -stimulant to enable him to play his awkward -rôle. Moreover—he had his son, Gerald’s, -high authority for the statement—total abstinence -was no longer in vogue among the -elect.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As soon, therefore, as he had taken his -seat in the supper-room he had braced himself -by a glass of champagne. The unwonted -beverage sent a delicious glow through him. -His puzzled brain cleared, his last doubts of -the entertainment’s success began to fade.</p> - -<p class='c010'>An obsequious waiter at his elbow hastened -to refill the glass, and Conover, his eyes darting -hither and thither among the guests to -single out and dwell on the various faces he -had so long and so vainly yearned to see in -his house, absent-mindedly emptied it and -another after it. He was talking assiduously -to Mrs. Van Alstyne, whom at first he had -found somewhat frigid and difficult; but who, -he now discovered to his surprise, it was -growing momentarily easier to entertain. -He had had no idea of his own command of -language.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Supper was still in its early stages when a -fourth glass of heady vintage champagne followed -the other three. From doorways and -walls his political followers looked on with -amaze. To them the sight of the Boss drinking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>was the eighth wonder of the world. -They nudged each other and muttered awed -comments out of the corners of their mouths.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But Caleb heeded this not at all. He was -happy. Very happy. The party over which -he had suffered such secret qualms and to -secure the desired guests for which he had -strained every atom of his vast political and -business influence, was proving a marvellous -success. At last he was in society. And he -had thought the barriers of that Body so impassable! -He was in society. At last. And -talking with delightful, brilliant fluency with -one of its acknowledged leaders. He had conquered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The waiter filled his glass for the fifth time. -After all, champagne had an effect whiskey -could never equal. The fifth draught (for he -allowed but one swallow to the goblet) seemed -to inspire him even more than had its predecessors.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then it was that fifty generations of Irishmen -who, under the spell of liquor, acquired -a flow of language not their own, clamored -for voice in this their latest and greatest descendant. -Now that he was in so foreign, -brilliant a mood, what more apt than a graceful -little speech of greeting to those his fellow-townsmen -who had flocked thither to do him -honor? The idea was sublime. Conover rose -<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>to his feet and rapped for silence. He would -speak while the gift of eloquence was still -strong upon him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ladies and gentlemen,” began Caleb, -clearing his voice and looking down the -great room across the concourse of wondering, -amused, or expectant faces that gently -swayed in a faint haze before his eyes, “I -guess you all know, without my telling you, -how glad I am to see you here to-night, and -I want you should enjoy every minute of your -evening. Some of you are old friends of mine. -There’s more’n a few here to-night that remembers -me when I was barefooted Cale Conover, -without a dollar to my name nor any -very hectic prospects of getting one.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But there’s a lot more of you here that I -hadn’t the honor of knowing then, nor for that -matter of meeting at all till to-night. It’s to -these, mostly, that I’m talking now. For I -want ’em to know me better and like me better. -Maybe if they hear more about me they -will. That’s why I’m on my feet now.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I b’lieve it isn’t customary to make a -speech any more at parties. But you’ll have -to forgive me. I’m not much onto the latest -frills and fashions. But give me a chance, and -I’ll learn as easy as a Chinaman. It came to -me all of a sudden to say what I’ve got to say, -right here and now, even if it’s at the expense -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>of a little etiquette. I’ve asked you here to-night, -mainly, of course, for the pleasure of -entertaining you, and I hope you’re all having -a real good time. But I had another reason, -too.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The men at the tables looked perplexed. -Was this the Caleb Conover they had met and -cringed to in the outer world, this garrulous, -rambling man with the flushed face?</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You see, I’ve come to be a kind of a feature -of this city of ours and of the State, too. -I’m here to stay. And I want that my towns-folks -and my fellow-residents of the Mountain -State should know me. Many of ’em -do. There’s a full half-million folks in this -city and State that know all about Caleb Conover. -They know he’s on the square, that -he’ll look after their interests, that he’s a -white man. They know he’s a man they can -trust in their public life and welcome in their -homes. And, as I said, there’s a lot of these -people here to-night.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But there’s a lot of other folks here who -only know me by what slander and jokes -they’ve picked up around town or in the out-of-State -newspapers. It’s these latter folks -I’m talking to now. I want them to know -the <em>real</em> me; not the uneducated crook and -illiterate feller my p’litical enemies have -made me out. They can’t think I’m <em>all</em> bad, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>or they wouldn’t be my guests. Would they, -now? And a little frankness ought to do the -rest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Some people say I’ve risen from the gutter. -Well, I’ve <em>risen</em> from it, haven’t I? A -lot of men on Pompton Avenue and in the -big clubs are just where they started when -they were born. Not a step in advance of -where their fathers left ’em. Swell chance -<em>they’d</em> have had if their parents had started -’em in the gutter as mine did, wouldn’t they? -Where’d they be now?</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What does the start amount to? The finish -line’s where the score’s counted. Gutter -or palace.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘A man’s a man for a’ that,’ says a poet -by the name of R. Burns. And he was right, -even if he did waste his time on verse-stringing. -Only it always seemed a pity to me -those words wasn’t said by someone bigger’n -a measly poet. Someone whose name carried -weight, and whose words would be quoted -more. Because then more folks might hear -of it and believe it. I don’t suppose one person -in fifty’s ever heard of this R. Burns person. -(I never did, myself, till I bought a -Famous Quotation book to use in one of my -campaigns. That’s how I got familiar with -the writings of R. Burns and Ibid and Byron -and all those rhymer people.) Now, if some -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>public character like Tom Platt, or Matt -Quay, or someone else that everybody’s heard -of, had said that quotation about a man being -a man——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb paused to gather up the loose threads -of his discourse. This caused him a moment -of dull bewilderment, for he was not accustomed -to digress, either in mind or talk, and -the phenomenon puzzled him. He rallied and -went on:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But that isn’t the point. I was telling -you about myself. I started in the gutter, -just as the ‘knockers’ say I did. Or down -by the freight yards, and that’s about the -same thing. My mother took in washing—when -she could get it. My father went to -the penitentiary for freight-lifting when I -was ten—he was a stevedore—and he died -there. I was brought up on a street where -the feller—man or boy—who couldn’t fight -had to stay indoors. And indoors was one -place I never stayed. I began as coal boy in -the C. G. & X. elevators; then I got a job -firing on a fast freight, and from that I took -to braking on a local passenger run. Then I -was yardmaster, and then in the sup’rintendent’s -office, and then came the job of sup’rintendent -and after that general manager, and -I worked my way up till I ran the C. G. & X. -road single-handed. Meantime I was looking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>after your city’s interests. Three times as -Alderman and then once as Mayor, for the -boys knew they could bank on me. I got hold -of interests here and interests there. Cheap, -run-down interests they were, for the most -part, but I built ’em up. Take the C. G. & -X., for instance. Biggest road in the State -to-day. How’d it get so? <em>I</em> made it. It was -all run down, and on its last legs when I took -hold. I acquired it and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He paused once more, fighting back that -queer tendency to let slip his grasp on his subject.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I remember that C. G. & X. deal,” whispered -Greer to his wife. “He juggled shares -and pulled wires and spread calamity rumors -till he was able to smash the stock down to a -dollar-ten per. He scared out all the other big -holders, gobbled their stock, reorganized, and -reaped a clean five million on the deal.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hush!” retorted Mrs. Greer. “This is -too rich to miss. I must remember it all, -to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“—So, you see,” Caleb was continuing, “I -fought my way up. Every move was a fight, -and every fight was a win. That’s my motto. -Fight to win. An’ if you <em>don’t</em> win, let it be -your executor, not you, that knows you lost. -But the biggest fight of all was to come. I -controlled the city. I helped control the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>State. I had all the money any man needed, -and I was spending it right here in the town -where it was earned. I was a successful man. -But the man who’s satisfied with success -would be satisfied with failure. And I wasn’t -satisfied.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There was still one thing I couldn’t get. -I couldn’t get one set of people to recognize -me when they met me in the street, to ask me -to their houses, to come to <em>my</em> house. Why? -I don’t know. Maybe <em>they</em> don’t know. -Maybe they didn’t <em>want</em> to know. There’s a -lot of things society folks don’t seem to want -to know. And one of those things was me. -I couldn’t win ’em over. I built this house. -Cost $200,000 more’n any other house in -town. If you doubt it, step down to the -Building Commissioner’s and look over the -specifications. Built it on the most fash’nable -avenue, too. But still society wouldn’t say: -‘Pleased to know you!’ ‘Maybe it’s my -lack of blue blood,’ thinks I. ‘Though my -pile’s been made a good deal cleaner than -many an aristocrat’s.’ I married a lady of -the first families here”—a ripple of unintelligible -surprise broke in on his ears, but -quickly died. “What was the result? She -was asked out and I wasn’t. But I kept on -fighting. And at last I’m in the winning -stride.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>“I’m not a college man myself. All my -education’s hand-made and since I was thirty. -But I was bound my son should be one. And -he is. He’s in society, too. The best New -York affords, I’m told. My girl’s had advantages, -too, and you see the result. Do -unto others what you can’t do for yourself. -That’s worth remembering sometimes. And -now at last I get my comeback for all my -outlay.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“To-night I guess I cover the final lap of -the race. For the bluest blood of Granite is—are—is -among my guests here, and I’m -meeting ’em on equal terms. All this talk, -maybe, isn’t what the etiquette books call -‘good form.’ But if you knew how many -years I’ve worked for what I’ve won to-night, -you’d sympathize with me for wanting -to crow just a little.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Heavens!” murmured Mrs. Greer, “does -the creature think anyone’s going to regard -this as his ‘début’? And the awful part of -it is, the whole speech will be in every paper -to-morrow. Oh, if only the reporters will -get our names wrong!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No fear of that,” answered Greer. “The -typewritten list is probably being put in print -even now. But what ails Conover?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So,” resumed Caleb, beaming about him, -“I wanted the chance to let you all know -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>me as I really am. Not what my enemies -say about me. Is there any reason why I -shouldn’t be your friend and entertain you -often? None in the least, you’ll all say. It -seems a little thing, perhaps, to you who’ve -been in the game always. But it’s meant a lot -to me!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He paused. There seemed nothing more to -say, yet he longed to end with a climax. A -glorious, dazzling inspiration came, and he -hurried on:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And now, in honor of this little meeting -between friends, let me tell you all a secret. -It won’t be a secret to-morrow, but you can -always be able to say you were the first who -was told. I have at last yielded to the earnest -entreaties of my constituents and friends and -party in general, and have consented to accept -the nomination for Governor at the coming -convention.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>From the proletariat fringing the walls and -blocking the doorway arose an excited, exultant -hum. Only the wild efforts of certain -efficient, if unofficial, sergeants-at-arms prevented -a mighty yell of applause. At the -tables, however, the women looked bored or -puzzled; while the men glanced at each other -with the blank look of people who, out for a -day’s jolly hunting, find themselves caught -unexpectedly in a bear trap.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>“Good Lord!” grunted Greer, “I hope -our being here doesn’t commit any of us! To -think of Conover, of all men, as governor! -This’ll be a bombshell with a vengeance.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I have heretofore,” went on Caleb, after -allowing the impression of his words to sink -in, “refused all State offices. But now I feel -it a social as well as a political duty that I -owe. And I shall be grateful to you for your -honest support.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He had rehearsed this last sentence many -times for campaign speeches. It seemed to -him to have the true oratorical ring, and to -be singularly appropriate. He prepared to -sit down, then checked himself.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Some men,” he added, as an afterthought, -“are in politics for a ‘holy’ purpose. Some -for what’s in it for them. I find the result’s -usually pretty much the same in both cases. -As governor I shall do my best for Granite -and for the Mountain State. Thank you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb bowed, reseated himself and swallowed -another glass of champagne at a gulp. -He was not ill pleased with himself. He had -risen merely to thank his guests for their -presence. Little by little he had drifted further -than he had at first intended. Yet, he -was glad he had yielded to this unprecedented, -unaccustomed yearning to expand; -to show himself at his best before these people -<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>with whom he now firmly believed himself -on a footing of friendly equality. Yes, -on the whole, he was convinced of his success.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He glanced about him. The buzz of talk -had recommenced; it seemed to him more -loudly, more interestedly, with less of constraint -than before. Dozens of eyes were -upon him, not with the bored coldness of the -earlier evening, but with curiosity and open -interest. He had put people at their ease. -They were accepting him as one of themselves, -and behaving as he had heard they did at other -functions.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb was glad.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then his complacent glance fell on his wife. -She was very red in the face, and was bending -over her plate, eating fast.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Proud of the old man, poor little thing!” -mused Conover, a twinge of affection for his -scared, invertebrate spouse sending a softer -light into his strenuous, lean face. His gaze -next travelled to Blanche, his daughter. She, -too, was red of face, and was talking hard, as -if against time. Somehow Caleb was less assured -as to the cause of her flush. Perhaps -in Europe such speeches were not customary. -He could explain to her later.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Anice Lanier, alone, met his eye with the -frank, honest, unafraid look that was her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>birthright, and which made her the only living -person he instinctively felt he could not -bully. In her look he read, now, a mute question. -He could not fathom the expression.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb left his place and made his way -among the tables to where she sat.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How’d it go?” he asked. “It seemed to -take ’em.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I think it did,” she replied, noting the -flush on his cheek and the brightness of his -gaze, and wondering thereat.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wasn’t too long to hold their interest?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No. They seemed interested.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You think so? Good! Do you know, if -I’d had time to think, I’d rather have made -fifty campaign speeches than that one. I’d -have been rattled to death. But it was easier -than any speech I ever made. Good climax, -eh, that announcement?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How long ago did you make up your mind -to run for Governor?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Think it’s queer that, as my secretary, -you hadn’t heard of it? Well, I’ll tell you. I -decided it just about seven minutes ago. It -came to me like a flash, plumb in the middle -of my speech. I figgered out all at once that -if there was any flaw in my plans so far, the -governorship was dead sure to cinch me in -society. Folks’ll think twice before they turn -up their noses at a governor. It came as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>an inspiration. A genuine hunch. I never -have one of them but what it wins. Why, -when——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But can you get the nomination?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Can I get it? <em>Can</em> I get it? Say, Miss -Lanier, haven’t you learned yet that there -isn’t a thing in the city of Granite or in the -Mountain State that Caleb Conover, Railroader, -can’t get if he wants it bad enough? -To-night ought to have showed you that. -Why, with the legislature and every newspaper, -and the railroad system and every decent -State job right here safe between my -fingers, all I’ve got to do is to turn the wheel, -and the little ball will drop into the governor’s -chair all right, all right.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The girl’s big brown eyes were vaguely -troubled. The reserve habitual to her when -in her employer’s society deepened. She -thought of Clive Standish and his aspirations. -What would become of the young lawyer’s -already desperate hope, now that the -Boss himself—and not some mere puppet of -the latter’s—was to be his opponent?</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Say,” sighed Caleb Conover in perfect -content, “this is the happiest night ever! -I’ve got everything there is in life for a man. -All the money I want, the running of the -State, a place in society at last, a daughter -that’s a princess, a boy that’s making his -mark in the biggest city in America, and now—the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>governorship. Lord! but I’m a lucky -man. And that speech—I didn’t think I had -it in me. Of course, I know those snobs from -the Pompton Avenue crowd were dragged here -by the ears. I had to drag pretty hard, too, -in most cases. But they’re <em>here</em>. And they -listened to me. They had to. And they can’t -ever look on me just as they did before.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No,” assented Anice, “they can’t.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>To her there was something impersonally -pathetic in the way this usually keen, stern -man had unbent and made himself ridiculous. -She was the only person living in whose -presence, as a rule, he expanded. She was -used to the semi-occasional talkative, boastful -moods of this Boss whom all the rest of -the world deemed as sharp, and concise as a -steel trap—and as deadly. Yet never had -even she seen him like this before.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was sad, she mused, that Samson, shorn -of his locks of self-restraint and of his calculating -coolness, should thus have made -sport for the Philistines. That he had perhaps -done so for a purpose—even though for -once in his life it was a futile purpose—rendered -his folly no less humiliating.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” reiterated Conover, as he prepared -to return to his own table. “It was an inspiration. -And an ounce of inspiration discounts -a half-ton of any other commodity -that ever passed over the counter.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span> “What was it like?” rhapsodized Billy -Shevlin at 2 <span class='fss'>A.M.</span>, as he gazed loftily upon a -semicircle of humbler querists in the back -room of Kerrigan’s saloon. “It was like -the King of England an’ one of them Fashion -Joinals an’ a lake of $4-a-bottle suds, all -mixed; with a Letter Carriers’ Ball on the -side. And”—he added, in a glow of divine -memories—“<em>I</em> was ace-high with the biggest -of the push. If I hadn’t a’ been, would the -Van Alstyne dame a’ stood for it so civil -when I treads on the train of her Sunday -regalia and rips about ten yards of the fancy -tatting off’n it?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What was it like?” echoed Mrs. Greer -to a query of one of her daughters who had -sat up to await the parental home-coming. -“It was something clear outside the scriptural -prohibition of swearing. For it was -like nothing in ‘the heavens above, or the -earth beneath, or the waters under the -earth.’”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What was it like?” thought Clive Standish -drowsily as he fell asleep. “A dozen -people are certain to ask me that to-morrow. -It—her—her eyes have that same old queer -way—of making me feel as if—I were in -church.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER III<br /> <span class='large'>CALEB CONOVER REGRETS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Caleb Conover, Railroader, was in a humor -when all the household thought well to -tread softly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was the morning after his “début.” He -paced his study intermittently, stopping now -and again at a window to watch laborers at -work in the grounds below, dismantling the -strings of Chinese lanterns, and carting away -other litter of the festivities. A pile of newspapers -filled one of the study chairs. On the -front page of each local journal was blazoned -a garish account of the Conover reception. -Yet Caleb, eager as he had once been to read -every word concerning the fête, had not so -much as glanced at any of the papers. In -fact, he seemed, in his weary pacing to and -fro, to avoid the locality of the chair where -they lay.</p> - -<p class='c010'>For an hour—in fact, ever since he had -left his bedroom—he had paced thus. And -none had dared disturb him. For the evil -spirit was heavy upon Saul, and the javelin -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>of wrath, at such times, was not prone to -tarry in its flight.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb’s black mood this morning came -from within, not from objective causes. He -was travelling through that deepest, most -horrible of all the multi-graded Valleys of -Humiliation—the Vale of Remembered Folly. -Let a man recall a crime, and—especially if -he be troubled at the time with indigestion—remorse -of a smug if painful sort will be his -portion. Let him recall a misfortune, and a -wave of gentle, self-pitying grief will lave -his heart, soothing the throb of an old sting -into soft regret. But let him awake to the -fact that he has made himself sublimely ridiculous—and -that in the presence of the multitude—and -his self-torture can be lashed to a -pitch that shames the Inquisition’s most zealous -efforts. Therein lies the True Valley of -Humiliation, the ravine where no sunlight of -redeeming circumstances shines, where no -refreshing rill of excuse and palliation flows. -And it was in this unrelieved, arid gorge of -self-contempt that Caleb Conover now wallowed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He had made a fool of himself. An arrant -fool. He had drunk until he was drunken. -And in that drunkenness he had spoken blatant -words of idiocy. He had made himself -ridiculous in the eyes of the very class he had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>sought to cultivate. His had not been the besottedness -that babbles, sleeps and forgets. -Even as his drink-inspired tongue had betrayed -no thickness nor hiatus during his -drivelling speech, so the steady brain had, on -waking, remorselessly told him of his every -word.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Thirty years before, in a drunken spree, -he had been seized with a fervor of patriotism -and had enlisted in the army. On coming -to himself it had cost him nearly every -dollar he possessed to get himself free. After -a similar revel, a year later, he had stampeded -a meeting of the local “machine” by -making a tearful speech in favor of reform -and purity in politics. The oration had cost -him his immediate chances of political preferment. -After that he had done away with -this single weakness in his iron nature and -had drunk no more. The sacrifice had been -light for so strong a man, once he forced himself -to make it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Last night—secure in his impregnable self-trust—he -had broken his inviolable rule. As -a result he had become a laughing-stock for -the people whose favor he so unspeakably -desired to win. As to his own adherents, he -gave their possible opinions not one thought. -Whatever the Boss said “went” with them. -Had he declared himself a candidate for holy -orders, or blurted out the innermost secrets -of the “machine,” they would probably have -believed he was acting for the best. But those -others——!</p> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/i_046.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>She was very pretty and dainty and young, in her simple white morning frock. Page <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>And, over and above all, his declaration of -candidacy for Governor——</p> - -<p class='c010'>A knock at the door of his study broke in -on the audible groan of self-contempt this -last and ever-recurrent thought wrung from -his tight lips. Caleb stopped midway down -the room, his short red hair bristling with -fury at the interruption.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What do you want?” he snarled.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The door opened and Anice Lanier came in. -She was very pretty and dainty and young, -in her simple white morning frock. She carried -a set of tablets whereon it was her custom -to transcribe notes of Caleb’s morning -instructions for reference or for later amplification -by his two stenographers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well!” roared Conover, glowering across -the room at her, “what in hell do <em>you</em> want?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“To tender my resignation,” was the unruffled -reply.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Your <em>what</em>?” he gasped, stupidly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My resignation,” in the same level, impersonal -tones. “To take effect at once. -Good morning.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>She was half-way out of the room before -<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>her employer could hurry after and detain -her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What’s—what’s the meaning of this?” -asked Caleb, the brutal belligerency trailing -out of his voice. Then, before she could answer, -he added: “Because I spoke like that -just now? Was that it? Because I said—And -you’d throw over a good job just because -of a few cranky words? Yes, I believe -you would. You’d do it. It isn’t a bluff. -Maybe that’s why you make such a hit with -me, Miss Lanier. You’re not scared every -time I open my mouth. And you stand up -for yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He eyed her in a quizzically admiring fashion, -as one might a beautiful but unclassified -natural history specimen. She made no reply, -but stood waiting in patience for him to -move from between her and the door.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb grinned.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Want me to apologize, I s’pose?” he -grumbled.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A gentleman would not wait to ask.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Maybe you think a gentleman wouldn’t -of said what I did, in the first place, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, I do think so. Don’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I’m sorry. Let it go at that. Now -let’s get to work. Say”—as they moved -across to their wonted places at the big centre -table, “you oughtn’t to take offence at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>anything about me this morning. You must -know how sore I am.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What’s the matter?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“As if you didn’t know! You saw how -many kinds of a wall-eyed fool I made of myself -last night. Isn’t that enough to make a -man sore? And to think of it being taken -down by those newspaper idiots and printed -all over the country!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He gave the nearby chair a kick, avalanching -the morning papers to the floor.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Have you read those?” queried Anice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No. Why should I rub it in? I know -what they——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why not look at them before you lose -your temper?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb snatched up the <cite>Star</cite>, foremost journal -of Granite. He glanced down the last -column of the front page, and over to the -second.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Here’s the story of the show just as we -dictated it beforehand,” he commented. -“List of guests—Where in thunder is that -measly speech? Have they given it a column -to itself? Oh—way down at the bottom. ‘In -a singularly happy little informal address at -the close of the evening Mr. Conover mentioned -his forthcoming candidacy for governor.’ -Is that all any of them have got -about it?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>“They have your pledge to run for Governor -blazoned over two columns of the front -page of nearly all the papers. But nothing -more about the speech itself.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But how——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I took the liberty of stopping the reporters -before they left the house, and telling -them it would be against your wish for -any of your other remarks to be quoted.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You did that? Miss Lanier, you’re fine! -You’ve saved me a guying in every out-of-State -paper in the East. I want to show my -appreciation——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If that means another offer to raise my -salary, I am very much obliged. But, as I’ve -told you several times before, I can’t accept -it. Thank you just the same.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But why not? I can afford——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But I can’t. Don’t let’s talk of it, -please.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And every other soul in my employ -spraining his brain to plan for a raise! The -man who understands women—if he’s ever -born—won’t need to read his Bible, for -there’ll be nothing that even the Almighty -can teach him.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Shan’t we begin work? About this -Fournier matter. He refuses to pay the -$30,000, and we can’t even get him to admit -he owes it. Shall I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>“Write and tell him unless he pays that -$41,596 within thirty days——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But it’s $30,000, not $41,000. He——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I know that. And he’ll write us so by return -mail. That’ll give us the acknowledgment -we want of the $30,000 debt. What -next?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The Curtis-Bayne people of Hadley are -falling behind on their contract with the C. -G. & X.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I guess they are,” chuckled Caleb. -“They’re beginning to see a great light, -just as I figured out. Well, let ’em squirm a -bit.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But the contract—you may remember -Mr. Curtis asked to look at our copy of it -when he was in Granite. He said he wanted -to verify a clause he couldn’t quite recollect. -You told me to send it to him, and I did.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, I remember.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, he never returned it. And this -morning we get this letter from him: ‘<em>In regard -to your favor of the 9th inst., in which -you speak of a contract, we beg to state you -must have confused us with some other of -your road’s customers. The Curtis-Bayne -Company has no contract with the C. G. & X., -and can find no record of one. If you have -such a document kindly produce it.</em>’”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, well, well!” gurgled Caleb. “To -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>think how that wicked old Curtis fox has imposed -on my trust in human nature! He’s -got us, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It looks so, I’m afraid.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Looks so to him, too. It’ll keep on looking -so till I shove him into court and make -him swear on the witness stand that no contract -ever existed. Then it’ll be time enough -to produce the certified copy I had made just -after I got his request to send the original to -his hotel. Poor old Curtis! Please write -him a very blustering, scared, appealing kind -of letter. Next?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“O’Flaherty’s sent another begging note, -about that claim of his against the road. It -begins: ‘<em>Dear Mr. Conover: As you know, -I’ve seen better days</em>’——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Tell him I can’t be held accountable for -the weather. And—say, Miss Lanier, let all -the rest of this routine go over for to-day. -I’ve a bigger game on, and I’ve got to hustle. -That Governorship business——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That was the foolest thing I ever did. It -seemed to me at the minute a grand idea as a -wind-up for my crazy speech. But I guess -I’ll have to pay my way all right before I’m -done with last evening. The free list’s suspended -as far’s I’m concerned.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You mean there’s some doubt of your -<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>getting the nomination?” she asked, a sudden -hope making her big eyes lustrous.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Doubt? <em>Doubt?</em> Say, I thought you -knew me better than that. Why, the nomination’s -right in front of me on a silver salver -and trimmed with blue ribbons. And the -election, too, for that matter.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then”—the hope dying—“why do you -speak as you did just now?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s this way: I’ve held Granite and the -Mountain State by the nape of the neck for -ten years. I’m the Boss. And when I give -the word folks come to heel. But all this time -I’ve been standing in the background while I -pulled the strings. It was safer that way and -pleasanter. I’d a lot rather write the play -than be just a paid actor in it. But now I’ve -got to jump out of my corner in the wings -and take the centre of the stage. There’s a -lot more glory on the stage than in the wings, -but there’s lots more bad eggs and decayed -fruit drifting in that direction, too. If the -audience don’t like the actor they hiss him. -The man in the wings don’t get any of that. -All he has to do is to call off that actor and -put on another the crowd’ll like better, or -maybe a new play if it comes to the worst.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But here I’m to take the stage and get -the limelight and the newspaper roasts—outside -the State—and not an actor can I shunt -<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>it off on. That’s why I’ve never took public -office since I was Mayor. And then it was -only a stepping-stone to the Leadership. -Now I’ve got to leave the background and -pose in the Capitol. There’s nothing in it for -me, except a better social position. That’s a -lot, I know. But I’m not so sure that even -such a raise is worth the price.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then why not withdraw?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not me! Withdraw, and be laughed at -by my own crowd as well as the society -click? It’d smash me forever. It’s human -nature to love a criminal and to hate a four-flusher. -And cold feet ain’t good for the circulation -of the body politic. It’s apt to end -by freezing its possessor out. No, sir! I’m in -it, and I got to swim strong. The nomination -and the election’s easy enough. But just a -‘won handily’ won’t fill the bill. I’ve got to -sweep the State with the all-firedest landslide -ever slidden since U. S. Grant ran around the -track twice before Horace Greeley got on -speaking terms with his own stride. It’s got -to be a case of ‘the all-popular Governor -Conover.’ I’ve got to go in on the shoulders -of that rampant steed they call ‘The Hoorah!’ -That’ll settle forever any doubts of my fitness, -and it’ll stop all laughs at what I said -last night. When a man’s the people’s unanimous -choice, the few stray knocks that happen -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>at intervals do him more good than harm. -But if it was just touch-and-go, everybody’d -be screeching about fraud and boss rule winning -over honest effort. These Civic Leaguers -are too noisy, as it is. I’ve got to start in -right away.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Any orders?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes. When you go down stairs, please -send for Shevlin and Bourke and Raynor -and the rest on this list, and telephone the -editors I’d like to see ’em this afternoon. -I’ll have the ball rolling by night. Say, Miss -Lanier, the campaign’ll mean extra work -for you. I want to make it worth your while. -Come now, don’t be silly. Let me make your -salary——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I beg you won’t speak of that any more. -I cannot accept a raise of salary from you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But why not? You earn more and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I earn all I get. And, as I’ve told you -before, my reasons for accepting no larger -stipend than you offered publicly for a governess -for Blanche three years ago, are my -own. I consider them good. I am glad to -get the money I do. I believe I more than -earn it. But I can accept no more, and I can -take no presents nor favors of any sort from -you. I can’t explain to you my reasons. But -I believe they are good.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But it’s so absurd! I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>“Have you ever found me shirking my -work or disloyal in any way to your interests, -on account of the smallness of my salary? I -have handled business and political secrets of -yours that would have involved millions in -loss to you if I had betrayed you. I have -been loyal to those interests. I have done -your work satisfactorily. I could have done -no more on three times my pay. There let -the matter rest, please.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just as you like!” grumbled Conover. -“Lord! how the crowd’d stare if it heard -Caleb Conover teasing anyone to take more -of his money!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Money won’t buy everything.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No? Well, it gives a pretty big assortment -to choose from. And——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The door was flung unceremoniously open, -and Gerald slouched in, his pasty face unwontedly -sallow from last night’s potations. -For, with a few of the mushroom crop of the -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">jeunesse dorée</span></i> of Granite, he had prolonged -the supper-room revels after the departure -of the other guests.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hello, Dad!” he observed. “Thought -I’d find you alone.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb, his initial ill-temper softened by his -talk with Anice, greeted his favorite child -with a friendly nod.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Sit down,” he said. “I’ll be at leisure -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>in a few moments. And, say, throw that -measly blend of burnt paper and Egyptian -sweepings out of the window. Why a grown -man can’t smoke man’s-sized tobacco is -more’n I can see.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The lad, with sulky obedience, tossed away -the cigarette and came back to the table.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hear the news?” he asked. “It seems -you’ve got a rival for the nomination.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hey?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Grandin was telling me about it last -night. His father’s one of the big guns in -the Civic League, you know. It seems the -League’s planning to spring Clive Standish -on the convention.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Clive Standish? That kid? For governor? -Lord!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good joke, isn’t it? I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Joke? <em>No!</em>” shouted Caleb. “It’s just -the thing I wouldn’t have had happen for a -fortune. He’s poor, but he belongs to the -oldest family in the State, and his blood so -blue you could use it to starch clothes with. -Just the sort of a visionary young fool a lot -of cranks will gather around. He’ll yell so -loud about the ‘people’s sacred rights’ and -‘ring rule’ and all that rot, that they’ll hear -him clear over in the other States. And -when they do, the out-of-State papers will all -get to hammering me again. And the very -<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>crowd I’m trying to score with, by running -for Governor, will vote for him to a man. -He’s <em>one</em> of them.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So you think he has a chance of winning?” -asked Anice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not a ghost of a chance. He’ll die in the -convention—if he ever reaches that far. But -it will stir up just the opposition I’ve been -telling you I was afraid of. Well, if it meant -work before, it means a twenty-five-hour-a-day -hustle now. I wish you’d telephone -Shevlin and the others, please, Miss Lanier. -Tell ’em to be here in an hour.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>As the girl left the room, Caleb swung -about to face his son. The glow of coming -battle was in his face.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now’s your chance, Jerry!” he began, -hot with an enthusiasm that failed to find the -faintest reflection in the sallow countenance -before him. “Now’s your chance to get back -at the old man for a few of the things he’s -done for you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I—I don’t catch your meaning,” muttered -Gerald, uncomfortably.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’ve got a sort of pull with a certain -set of young addlepates here, because you -live in New York and get your name in the -papers, and because you’ve a dollar allowance -to every penny of theirs: I want you to -use that pull. I want you should jump right -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>in and begin working for me. Why, you -ought to round up a hundred votes in the -Pompton Club alone, to say nothing of the -youngsters on the fringe outside, who’ll be -tickled to death at having a feller of your -means and position notice ’em. Yes, you can -be a whole lot of help to me this next few -weeks. Take off your coat and wade in! -And when we win——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hold on a moment, Dad!” interrupted -Gerald, whose lengthening face had passed -unnoted by the excited elder man. “Hold on, -please. You mean you want me to work for -you in the campaign for Governor?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Jerry, you’ll get almost human one of -these days if you let your intelligence take -flights like that. Yes, I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Because,” pursued Gerald, who was far -too accustomed to this form of sarcasm from -his father to allow it to ruffle him, “because -I can’t.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You—you—<em>what</em>?” grunted Caleb, incredulously.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I can’t stay here in Granite all that time. -I—I must get back to New York this week. -I’ve important business there.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I’ll be—” gasped Conover, finding -his voice at last, and with it the grim satire -he loved to lavish on this son, so unlike himself. -“Business, eh? ‘Important business!’ -<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>Some restaurant waiter you’ve got -an appointment to thrash at 2.45 <span class='fss'>A.M.</span> on -Tuesday, or a hotel window you’ve made a -date to drive through in a hansom? From -all I’ve read or heard of your life there, those -were the two most important pieces of business -you ever transacted in New York. And -it was <em>my</em> money paid the fines both times. -No, no, Sonny, your ‘important business’ -will keep, I guess, till after November. Anyhow, -in the meantime you’ll stay right here -and help Papa. See? Otherwise you’ll go to -New York on foot, and have the pleasure of -living on what the three-ball specialists will -give you for your hardware. No work, no -pennies, Jerry. Understand that? Now go -and think it over. Papa’s too busy to play -with little boys to-day.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>To Caleb’s secret delight he saw he had at -last roused a spark of spirit in the lad.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My business in New York,” retorted -Gerald hotly, “is not with waiters or hotels. -It is with my wife.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb sat down very hard.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Your—your—” he sputtered apoplectically.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My wife,” returned the youth, a sheepish -pride in look and words. “It was that I -came up here to speak to you about this morning. -You were so busy yesterday when I got -to town that——”</p> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/i_060.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>“Are you going to tell me about this thing, or have I got to shake it out of you?” Page <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>“Jerry, you ass! Are you crazy or only -drunk?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Father,” protested Gerald with a petulance -that only half hid his growing nervousness, -“I do wish you’d call me ‘Gerald,’ and -drop that wretched nickname. If——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He got no further. Conover was upon him, -his tough, knotty hands gripping the youngster’s -shoulders and shaking him to and fro -with a force that set Gerald’s teeth clicking.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now then!” bellowed the Railroader, -mighty, masterful, terrible as he let the -breathless lad slide to the floor and towered -wrathful above him. “Are you going to tell -me about this thing, or have I got to shake -it out of you? Speak up!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Gulping, panting, all the spirit momentarily -buffeted out of him, Gerald Conover -lay staring stupidly up at the angry man.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m—I’m married!” he bleated. “I—I -meant to tell you when——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Who to?” demanded Caleb in an agony -of self-control.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Miss Enid Montmorency. She——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Who is she?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She is—she’s my wife. Two months ago -we——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Who is she? Is she in society?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Her family were very famous before the -war. She——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>“Is she in good New York society?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She—she had to earn her own living -and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And what?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She—I met her at Rector’s first. Her -company——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Great Lord!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The words came like a thunderclap. Caleb -Conover stepped back to the wall, his florid -face gray.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>You MARRIED a chorus girl?</em>”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She—her family before the war——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb had himself in hand.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Get up!” he ordered. “You haven’t -money enough nor earning power enough to -buy those boards you’re sprawling on. Yet -you saddle yourself with a wife—a wife you -can’t support. A woman who will down all -your social hopes. And mine. You let a designing -doll with a painted face dupe you -into——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You shan’t speak that way of Enid!” -flared up the boy, tearfully. “She is as good -and pure as——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“As <em>you</em> are. And with a damned sight -more sense. For she knows a legal way of -grabbing onto a livelihood; and <em>you</em> don’t. -Shut up! If you try any novel-hero airs on -me, you young skunk, I’ll break you over my -<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>knee. Now you’ll stand still and you’ll listen -to what I have to say.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Gerald, cowed, but snarling under his -breath, obeyed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I won’t waste breath telling you all I’d -hoped for you,” began Conover, “or how I -tried to give you all I missed in my own boyhood. -You haven’t the brains to understand—or -care. What I’ve got to say is all about -money. And I never found you too stupid to -listen to that. You’ve cut your throat. -Nothing can mend that. We’ll talk about the -future at another time. It’s the present -we’ve got to ’tend to now. You’re going to -be of some use to me at last. The only use -you ever will be to anyone. Your allowance, -for a few months, is going on just the same -as before. But you’ve got to earn it. And -you’re going to earn it by staying right here -in Granite, and working like a dog for me in -this campaign. If you stir out of this town, -or if your—that woman comes here, or if -you don’t use your pull in my behalf with the -sap-heads you travel with at the Pompton -Club—if you don’t do all this, I say, till further -orders—then, for now and all time, you’ll -earn your own way. For you’ll not get another -nickel out of me. I guess you know me -well enough to understand I’ll go by what I -say. Take your choice. You’ve got an earning -<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>ability of about $4 a week. You’ve got -an allowance of $48,000 a year. Now, till -after election, which’ll it be?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Father and son faced each other in silence -for a full minute. Then the latter’s eyes fell.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll stay!” he muttered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought so. Now chase! I’m busy.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Gerald slouched to the door. On the -threshold he turned and shook his fist in impotent -fury at the broad back turned on him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll stay!” he repeated, his voice scaling -an octave and breaking in a hysterical sob, -“I’ll stay! But, before God, I’ll find a way -to pay you off for this before the campaign -is over.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb did not turn at the threat nor at the -loud-slamming door. He was scribbling a telegram -to his New York lawyer.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>Gerald in scrape with chorus girl, Enid -Montmorency</em>,” he wrote. “<em>Find her and -buy her off. Go as high as $100,000.</em>”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Father Healy says, ‘The sins of the fathers -shall be visited on the children,’” he -quoted half-aloud as he finished; “but when -they are visited in the shape of blithering -idiocy, it seems ’most like a breach of contract.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Railroader was not fated to enjoy -even the scant privilege of solitude. He had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>hardly seated himself at his desk when the -sacred door was once more assailed by inquisitive -knuckles.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The Boys haven’t wasted much time,” he -thought as he growled permission to enter.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The tall, exquisitely-groomed figure of his -new son-in-law, the Prince d’Antri, blocked -the threshold. With him was Blanche.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do we intrude?” asked d’Antri, blandly, -as he ushered his wife through the doorway -and placed a chair for her. Caleb watched -him without reply. The multifarious -branches of social usage always affected him -with contemptuous hopelessness. He saw no -sense in them; but neither, as he confessed -disgustedly to himself, could he, even if he -chose, possibly acquire them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We don’t intrude, I hope,” repeated the -prince, closing the door behind him, and sitting -down near the littered centre table.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Keep on hoping!” vouchsafed Conover -gruffly. “What am I to do for you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He could never grow accustomed to this -foreign son-in-law whom he had known but -two days. Obedient, for once, to his wife, -and to his daughter’s written instructions, -he had yielded to the marriage, had consented -to its performance at the American -Embassy at Paris rather than at the white -marble Pompton Avenue “Mausoleum,” and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>had readily allowed himself to be convinced -that the union meant a social stride for the -entire family such as could never otherwise -have been attained.</p> - -<p class='c010'>His wife and daughter had returned from -Europe just before the reception (whose details -had, by his own command, been left -wholly to Caleb), bringing with them the -happy bridegroom. Caleb had never before -seen a prince. In his youth, fairy tales had -not been his portion; so he had not even the -average child’s conception of a mediæval -Being in gold-spangled doublet and hose, to -guide him. Hence his ideas had been more -than shadowy. What he had seen was a very -tall, very slender, very handsome personage, -whose costumes and manner a keener judge -of fashion would have decided were on a par -with the princely command of English: perfect, -but a trifle too carefully accentuated to -appeal to Yankee tastes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Beyond the most casual intercourse and -table talk there had been hitherto no scope -for closer acquaintanceship between the two -men. The reception had taken up everyone’s -time and thoughts. Caleb had, however, -studied the prince from afar, and had sought -to apply to him some of the numberless classifications -in which he was so unerringly wont -to place his fellow-men. But none of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>ready-made moulds seemed to fit the newcomer.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What can I do for you?” repeated Conover, -looking at his watch. “In a few minutes -I’m expecting some——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We shall not detain you long. We have -come to speak to you on a—a rather delicate -theme.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Delicate?” muttered Caleb, glancing up -from the politely embarrassed prince to his -daughter. “Well, speak it out, then. The -best treatment for delicate things is a little -healthy exposure. What is it?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I ventured to interrupt your labors,” -said d’Antri, his face reflecting a gentle look -of pain at his host’s brusqueness, “to speak -to you in reference to your daughter’s <em>dot</em>.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Her which?” queried Caleb, looking at -the bride as though in search of symptoms of -some violent, unsuspected malady.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Amadeo means my dowry,” explained -Blanche, with some impatience. “It is the -custom, you know, on the Continent.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not on any part of the Continent <em>I</em> ever -struck. And I’ve been pretty much all over -it from ’Frisco to Quebec. It’s a new one on -me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“In Europe,” said Blanche, tapping her -foot, and gazing apologetically at her handsome -husband, “it is customary—as I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>thought everybody knew—for girls to bring -their husbands a marriage portion. How -much are you going to settle on me?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How much what? Money? You’ve always -had your $25,000 a year allowance, and -I’ve never kicked when you overdrew it. -But now you’re married, I suppose your husband——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But, Mr. Conover,” broke in the prince, -with more eagerness than Caleb had ever before -seen on his placid exterior, “I think you -fail to understand. I—we——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What are you driving at?” snapped -Conover. “Do you mean you can’t support -your wife?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Papa!” cried Blanche, in distress, “for -once in your life try not to be coarse. It isn’t -a question of support. It is the custom——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“For a father to pay a man to marry his -girl? I can’t see it myself, though now you -speak about it, I seem to have read or heard -something of the sort. Well, if it’s a custom, -I suppose it goes. How much?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The prince shivered, very gently, very -daintily.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If it affects you that way,” growled Caleb, -“I wouldn’t ’a’ brought up the subject -if I was you. Say, Blanche, if you’re too -timid to make a suggestion, how’ll this strike -<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>you? I’ll double your present allowance—$50,000 -a year, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Impossible!” gasped d’Antri.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not on your life!” retorted Caleb. “I -could double that and never feel it. Don’t -you worry about me not being able——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But I cannot consent to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Who’s asked you to? It’s to be <em>her</em> cash, -ain’t it? Not yours. I don’t think you come -on in this scene at all, Prince. It seems to be -up to me and Blanche. And——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, you’ll <em>never</em> understand!” cried -Blanche in despair. “For the daughter of -a man of your means, and the social position -I am to occupy as Princess d’Antri, my <em>dot</em> -should be at least——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hold on!” interposed Caleb. “I think -I begin to see. I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You <em>don’t</em> see,” contradicted his daughter, -pettishly; “I’ll have to explain. It——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, you won’t. If I couldn’t understand -things without waiting to have ’em explained, -I’d still be braking at $50 a month. As I take -it, this prince party meets you in Yurrup, -hears your father is <em>the</em> Caleb Conover—an -old fool of an American with a pretty daughter -to place on the nobility market—and you -make your bid. You marry him and he’s so -sure of his ground he don’t even hold out for -an ante-wedding bonus. He chases over here -<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>with you, and when he don’t find the dowry, -or whatever else you call it, waiting for him -at the dock, he makes bold to ring the cash -register.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The prince was on his feet.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I cannot consent, sir, to listen to -such——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, yes, you can. I’ve heard of your -sort. But I somehow thought they were all -counts. I didn’t know exactly how a prince -stood; but I supposed the job carried an income -with it. It seems you’re just in the -count class, after all. The kind of man that -loafs about Yurrup living on the name of -some ancestor who got his title by acting as -hired man to his king or emperor or whoever -ruled his two-for-a-quarter country. The -sort of man that does nothing for a living -and don’t even do that well enough to keep -him in pocket money. Then some lookout -makes the high sign, ‘Heiress in sight!’ -and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Blanche burst into tears. Her husband -threw his arm about her shoulders in assiduous, -theatrical fashion, while Caleb sat gnawing -his unlighted cigar and grimly eyeing the -couple.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There, there, <em>carissima mia</em>!” soothed -d’Antri, “your father knows no better. In -<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>this barbarous country of his there are no -leisure classes. I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You bet there are!” snorted Caleb. -“Only, here we call ’em tramps. And we give -’em thirty days instead of our daughters. -Here, stop that damned snivelling, Blanche! -You know how I hate it. I’m stung all right, -and it’s too late to squeal. The only time -there’s any use in crying over spilt milk is -when there’s a soft-hearted milkman cruising -around within hearing distance. And -from where I sit, I don’t see any such rushing -to my help. You’ll get your ‘<em>dot</em>’ all -right. Just as you knew you would before -you put up that whimper. We’ll fix up the -details when I’ve got more time on my hands.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Only, I want you and me and this prince-feller -of yours to understand each other, <em>clear</em>. -I’m letting myself be bled for a certain sum, -because I’ve crowed so loud about your being -a princess that I can’t back down now without -raising a laugh, and without spoiling all -I’ve planned to get by this marriage. Besides, -I’m going to run for governor, and I -don’t want any scandal or ‘dramatic separation -for lack of cash’ coming from my own -family. I’m caught fair, and I’ll pay. But -I want us three to understand that it’s straight -blackmail, and that I pay it just as I’d pay to -have any other dirty story hushed up. That’ll -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>be all to-day. If you want some reading matter, -Prince, here’s a paper with a list of the -liners that sail for Yurrup next week. Nothing -personal intended, you know. Good-by.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But, papa—” began Blanche, who, like -d’Antri, had listened to this exordium with -far less natural resentment than might have -been looked for.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’ll be all, I said,” repeated Conover. -“You win your point. Clear out! I’m busy.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The princess knew Caleb too well to press -the victory further. She tearfully left the -room, d’Antri following in her wake. At the -door the latter paused, his long white fingers -toying with his silky beard.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Sir,” he said, “you may be assured that -I shall never forget your generosity, even -though it is couched in such unusual language. -You shall never regret it. I understand -you have a wish to adorn the best society -and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No,” grunted Conover, “not the Best, -only the Highest. And it’s no concern of -yours, either way. Good-by!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>As the titled couple withdrew, Anice Lanier -came in.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mr. Shevlin, Mr. Bourke and most of the -others you sent for have come,” she reported. -“Shall I send them up?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” said Conover dully, “send ’em -<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>along. It’ll be good to talk to real human -beings again. Say, Miss Lanier”—as the girl -started to obey his order—“did you ever -write out that measly interview of mine for -the <cite>Star</cite>, endorsing those new views of Roosevelt’s -on race-suicide, and saying something -about a childless home being a curse to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes. I was just going to mail it. -Shall——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, don’t! Tear it up. There’s no -sense in a man being funny at his own expense.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IV<br /> <span class='large'>IN TWO CAMPS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>In the headquarters of the Civic League -sat Clive Standish. With him were the committee -chosen to conduct his campaign. Karl -Ansel, a lean, hard-headed New England -giant, their chairman, and incidentally, campaign -manager, was going laboriously over a -list of counties, towns and villages, corroborating -certain notes he made from time to -time, by referring to a big colored map of -the Mountain State.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve checked off the places that are directly -under the thumb of the C. G. & X.,” -Ansel was explaining as the rest of the group -leaned over to watch the course of his pencil -along the map. “I’m afraid they are as -hopelessly in Conover’s grip as Granite itself. -It’s in the rural districts, and in the -towns that aren’t dependent on the main -line, that we must find our strength. It’s an -uphill fight at best, with——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“With a million-and-a-half people who -are paying enormous taxes for which they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>receive scant value, who have thrust on them -a legislature and other officials they are -forced to elect at the Boss’s order!” finished -Standish. “Surely, it’s an uphill fight -that’s well worth while, if we can wake men -to a sense of their own slavery and the frauds -they are forced to connive at. And that’s -what we’re going to do.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The more experienced, if less enthusiastic, -Ansel scratched his chin doubtfully.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The people, as a mass, are slow to wake,” -he observed. “Oftener they just open one -eye and growl at being bothered, and then -roll over and go happily to sleep again while -the Boss goes through their pockets. Don’t -start this campaign too optimistically, Mr. -Standish. And don’t get the idea the people -are begging to be waked. If you wake them -you’ve got to do it against their will. Not -with any help of theirs. Maybe you can. -Maybe you can’t. As you say, it’s perhaps -worth a try. Even if——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But they’ve been waked before,” insisted -Standish. “And when they do -awaken, there are no half-measures about -it. Look how Jerome, on an independent -fight, won out against the Machine in 1905. -Why should the Mountain State——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The people are sleepy by nature,” laughed -Ansel. “They wake up with a roar, chase -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>the Boss out of their house, smash the Machine -and then go back to bed again with the -idea they’re heroes. As soon as their eyes -are shut, back strolls the Boss, mends his -Machine and reopens business at the old -stand. And that’s what you have to look forward -to. But we’ve been all over this sort -of thing before. I’ll have your ‘speech-route’ -made out in an hour, and start a man -over it this afternoon to arrange about the -halls and the ‘papering’ and the press work. -Speaking of press work, I had your candidature -telegraphed to New York to the Associated -Press early this morning. There’ll be -a perfect cloud of reporters up here before -night. We must arrange to see them before -the Conover crowd can get hold of them. -Sympathy from out-of-State papers won’t do -us any harm. The country at large has a -pretty fair idea of the way Conover runs the -Mountain State. And the country likes to -watch a good fight against long odds. There’s -lots of sympathy for the under dog—as long -as the sympathizer has no money on the upper -one.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How about the sketch of the situation that -you were having Craig write out, telling about -the stolen franchises, the arbitrary tax-rate, -the machine-made candidates, the railroad -rule and all that? It ought to prove a good -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>campaign document if he handles the subject -well.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, he’s handled it all right. I’ve read -the rough draft. Takes Conover from the -very start. Tells of his boyhood in the yards -of the C. G. & X., and how he bullied and -schemed until he got into the management’s -offices, the string of saloons he ran along the -route and the drink-checks he made the men -on his section cash in for liquor at his saloons, -and all that. Then his career as Alderman, -when he found out beforehand where the new -reservoir lands and City Hall site were to be, -and his buying them up, on mortgage, and -clearing his first big pile. And that deal he -worked in ‘bearing’ the C. G. & X. stock to -$1.10, and scaring everyone out and scooping -the pot; that’s brought in, too. And he’s got -the story of Conover’s gradually working the -railroad against the State and the State -against the road, till he had a throat grip on -both, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wait a moment!” interrupted Standish. -“Is all the sketch made up of that sort of -thing?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Most of it. Good, red-hot——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It must be done all over, then. We are -not digging up Conover’s personal past, but -his influence on the State and on the Democratic -Party. I’m not swinging the muckrake -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>or flinging dirt at my opponent. That -sort of vituperation——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But it’s hot stuff, I tell you, that sort of -literature! It helps a lot. You can’t hope to -win if you wear kid gloves in a game like -this.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What’s the use of arguing?” said Standish -pleasantly. “If the League was rash -enough to choose me to represent it, then the -League must put up with my peculiarities. -And I don’t intend to rise to the Capitol on -any mud piles. If you can show me how Conover’s -early frauds and his general crookedness -affect the issues of the campaign, then -I’ll give you leave to publish his whole biography. -But till then let’s run clean, shan’t -we?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘<em>Clean?</em>’” echoed Ansel aghast. “I’ve -been in this business a matter of twenty-five -years, and I never yet heard of a victory won -by drawing-room methods. But have your -own way. I suppose you know, though, that -they’ll rake up every lie and slur against you -they can get their hands on?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I suppose so. But <em>that</em> won’t affect the -general issue either. You don’t seem to -realize, Ansel, that this isn’t the ordinary -routine campaign. It’s an effort to throw off -Boss rule and to free a State. Politics and -personalities don’t enter into it at all. I’d as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>soon have run on the Republican as the -Democratic ticket if it weren’t that the Republican -Party in this State is virtually -dead. The Democratic nominee for governor -in the Mountain State is practically the governor-elect. -That is why I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Excuse me, Mr. Standish,” said a clerk, -entering from the outer office, “Mr. Conover -would like a word with you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The committee stared at one another, unbelieving.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“H’m!” remarked Ansel, breaking the -silence of surprise, “I guess the campaign’s -on in earnest, all right. Shall you see him?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes. Show him in, please, Gardner.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He says, sir, he wants to speak with you -alone,” added the clerk.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Tell him the League’s committee are in -session, and that he must say whatever he has -to say to me in their presence.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The clerk retired and reappeared a few -moments later, ushering in—Gerald Conover.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A grunt of disappointment from Ansel -was the first sound that greeted the long -youth as he paused irresolute just inside the -committee-room door.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good morning, Gerald,” said Standish, -rising to greet the unexpected visitor; “we -thought it was your father who——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No. And he didn’t send me here, either,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>blurted out Gerald. His pasty face was still -twitching, and his usually immaculate collar -awry from the recent paternal interview.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I came here on my own account,” he -went on, with the peevish wrath of a child. -“I came here to tell you I swing over a hundred -votes. Maybe a hundred more. My father -says so himself. And I’ve come to join -your League.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A gasp of amazement ran around the table. -Then, with a crow of delight, Ansel sprang -up.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Great!” he shouted. “His <em>son</em>! It’s -good for more votes than you know, Standish! -Why, man, it’s a bonanza! When -even a man’s own son can’t——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Standish cut him short.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Are you drunk, Gerald?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, I’m not!” vociferated the lad. -“I’m dead cold sober, and I’m doing this -with my eyes open. I want to join your -League, and I’ll work like a dog for your -election.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But why? You and I have never been -especially good friends. You’ve never shown -any interest in politics or ref——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I will now, you bet! I’ll make the -old man wish he’d packed me off to New -York by the first train. He’ll sweat for the -way he treated me before he’s done. I suppose -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>I’ve got to work secretly for you, so he -won’t suspect. But I’ll do none the less work -for that; and I can keep you posted on the -other side’s moves, too. If I’m to be tied to -this damned one-horse town by Father’s orders -till after election, I’ll make him sorry -he ever——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good for you!” cried Ansel. “You’ve -got the spirit of a man, after all. Here’s a -bunch of our membership blanks. Fill this -one out, and give the rest to your club friends. -We—why, Standish!” he broke off, furious -and dumbfounded; for Clive had calmly -stepped between the two, taken the membership -blank from Gerald’s shaky hand and -torn it across.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We don’t care for members of your sort, -Gerald,” he said, with a cold contempt that -was worse than a kick. “This League was -formed to help our City and State, not to -gratify private grudges; for white men, not -for curs who want to betray their own flesh -and blood. Get out of here!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Standish!” protested the horrified Ansel, -“you’re crazy! You’re throwing away -our best chance. You are——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If this apology for a human being is -‘our best chance,’ I’ll throw him out bodily, -unless he goes at once,” retorted Clive, advancing -on the cowering and utterly astonished -boy.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>“Why!” sputtered Gerald, as he backed -doorward, before the menacing approach of -the Leaguer, “I thought you’d want me— I— Oh, -I’ll go, then, if you’ve no more -sense than that! But I’ll find a way of downing -the old man in spite of you! Maybe you’ll -be glad enough to get my help when the time -comes! I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>His heels hit against the threshold in -his retrograde march. Still declaiming, he -stepped over the sill into the outer office, -and Clive Standish slammed the door upon -him, breaking off his threats in the middle of -their fretful outpouring.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There,” said Clive, returning to the gaping, -frowning committeemen, “that’s off our -hands. Now let’s get down to business.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mr. Standish,” remarked Ansel, after a -moment’s battle with words he found hard to -check, “you’re the most Quixotic, impractical -idealist that ever got hold of the foolish -idea he had a ghost of a chance for success in -politics. And,” he added, after a pause, -“I’m blest if I don’t think I’d rather lose -with a leader like you than win with any -other man in the Mountain State.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Meanwhile, at the head of the great study -table in his Pompton Avenue “Mausoleum” -sat Caleb Conover, Railroader. And about -<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>him, on either side of the board, like feudal -retainers of old, were grouped the pick of -his lieutenants and henchmen. A rare coterie -they were, these Knights of Graft. -Separated by ten thousand varying interests, -social strata and aspirations, they were as -one on the main issue—their blind adherence -to the Boss and to the lightest of his orders.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This impelling force was difficult of defining. -Love, fear, trust, desire for spoils? -Perhaps a little of all four; perhaps much; -perhaps an indefinable something apart from -these. For the power that draws and holds -men to a political leader who possesses -neither eloquence, charm nor the qualities of -popularity has never been—can never be—clearly -defined. Not one great Boss in ten -can boast these qualities.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Yet, whatever the reason of Caleb Conover’s -dominance, none could for a moment -doubt its presence. So ever-present was it -that it had long since choked down all opposition -from within his own ranks. Once, -years before—as the story is still related—when -he had first claimed, fought for and -won his party preëminence, certain district -leaders, eight in all, had plotted his downfall, -and had privately selected one of their number -to fill his shoes. News of the closed-door -meeting which was to ratify this deposition -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>was brought to Caleb by faithful Shevlin. -The Railroader, without a word, had started -for the back room of the saloon where the -conference was in progress. Stalking in on -the conspirators, he had gained the centre of -their circle before they were well aware of -his presence. Hat on head, cigar in mouth, -he had swept the ring of faces with his light, -steely eyes, noting each man there in one instant-brief -glance as he did so. Then, twisting -the cigar into one corner of his mouth, he -had brought down his fist on the table and -demanded:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How many of you people are with ME?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Like a pack of eager schoolboys the entire -eight were upon their feet, clamoring their -fealty. Then, without another word or look, -the Master had stamped out of the room; -leaving the erstwhile malcontents, as one of -them afterward expressed it:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Standin’ there like a bunch of boiled -sheepsheads without a thought but to shake -hands with ourselves for havin’ such a grand -Boss as Caleb Conover.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>At the Boss’s right in to-day’s conclave sat -Billy Shevlin, most trusted and adoring of -all his followers. At his left was Guy Bourke, -Alderman and the Boss’s jackal. Next to -Billy was Bonham, Mayor of Granite, and -next Giacomo Baltazzi, who held the whole -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>Italian section force of the C. G. & X. and the -Sicilian quarter of Granite in the hollow of -his unwashed hand. Beyond was Nicholas -Caine, proprietor of the <cite>Star</cite>, and to his -right Beiser, the Democratic State Chairman. -Between a second newspaper editor -and the President of the Board of Aldermen -lounged Kerrigan, the Ghetto saloon-keeper. -A sprinkling of railroad men, heelers and -district leaders made up the remainder. Conover -was speaking:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And that’s the layout,” said he. “And -that’s why I’m not content for this to be just -a plain ‘win.’ Two years ago I thought -Shearn would be our best man for governor. -So I gave the word, and Shearn got in with -a decent majority. But it’s got to be a landslide -this time, and not a trick’s to be overlooked -in the whole hand. Nick, you know -the line of editorial policy to start in to-morrow’s -<cite>Star</cite>. And be on the lookout for the -first break in any of the League’s speeches. -It’s easier to think of a fool thing than not -to say it, and those Reform jays are always -putting their feet in their mouths when they -try to preach politics. And, knowing nothing -about the game, they’re sure to talk a -heap. They never seem to realize that the -man who really practices politics hasn’t time -to preach it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>“I understand,” answered Caine. “Print, -as usual, a ‘spread’ on the windy, blundering -speeches, and forget to report the others. -Same as when——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Sure. And pass the ‘press-gag’ sign -up-State, too. Standish is certain to make a -tour. Beiser,” turning to the portly State -Chairman, “I want the county caucuses two -weeks from Saturday. I’ve an idea we can -work the same old ‘snap’ move in more’n -half of them. Pass it on to the county chairman -to treble last year’s floaters, and to -work the ‘back door’ the way we did in Bowden -County in ’97. They understand their -business pretty well, most of ’em. And I’ll -have Shevlin and Bourke jack up those that -don’t, and learn ’em their little lines. Two -weeks from Saturday, then. That’s understood? -It’ll give us all the time we need, if we -hustle. Never mind the other State or city -candidates or Congressmen. Those jobs’ll -take care of themselves. If the wrong men -get into the Assembly or Congress, they’ll get -licked into shape quick enough. We’re all -right there. I want the whole shove to be -made on the Governorship this year. Pass it -on! Baltazzi, I hear those dagoes of yours -are grouching again. What’s——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“They say they don’t get nothin’. They -<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>say all the good jobs goes to the Irish or -Dutch or even Americans, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Promise ’em something, then.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I have. But——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then promise ’em something more. Don’t -be stingy. If that don’t satisfy ’em, give me -the tip, and I’ll have a ten per cent. drop ordered -on the foreign section gangs’ pay, and -make Chief Geoghegan pass the word to his -cops to make things bad for the pushcart men -and organ grinders, and close up the dago saloons -an hour early. That’ll bring ’em in -a-running. How ’bout litterchoor, Abbott?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll start the staff to work on songs to-night,” -said a long-haired little man, “and -get out a bunch of ‘Friend of the Plain People’ -tracts and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Won’t do! ‘Man-of-Experience-and-Benefactor-of-the-State -or Ignorant-Meddling-Boy-Reformer. -Which-Will-You-Vote-For?’ -That’s the racket this time. Guy the -whole League crowd. ‘Silk Stockings <em>vs.</em> -Laboring Man.’ That’s the idea. Get the -cartoonists at work on pictures like Standish -making the police sprinkle the streets with -Florida water while thugs break into houses, -and that sort of thing. ‘What-We-May-Expect-from-Civic-League-Rule.’ -Understand? -Say, Caine, detail one or two of your men, of -course, to look up Standish’s past performances -<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>in private life, too. Anything about -booze or the cards or any sort of scrape will -work up fine just now. The gag’s old, but -about a reformer it always makes a hit. Even -a bit of a stretch goes. I’ll stand a libel suit -or two if it comes to a show-down.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How about the out-of-town papers?” -queried Caine. “Our regular chain are all -right. But the rest——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The C. G. & X. owns the Mountain State, -don’t it? And it controls ninety per cent. of -the mileage of the other roads that run -through the State. And wherever there’s -towns big enough for a paper there’s a railroad -somewhere near. And wherever there’s -an editor he wants his passes, don’t he? And -a rebate on his freight? Well—don’t you lose -sleep over the ‘press-gag.’”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How about floaters?” asked Bourke. -“Same rule and same price?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes. Subject to change if we’re pressed. -Aldermen all right, I s’pose?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Haven’t had a chance to sound ’em since -you declared yourself,” said the president of -that body, “but all except Fowler and Brayle -are your own crowd and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Tell Fowler the C. G. & X. will give his -firm a tip on the price for the next ‘sealed-bid’ -contract for railroad ties. Give Brayle -a hint about that indictment against his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>brother. It was pigeonholed, but if I tried -real hard, I might induce the District Attorney -to look for it. I tell you,” went on Conover, -raising his voice for the first time, and -glaring about the table, “every mother’s son, -from engine-oiler to Congressman, has got to -get down to the job and hustle as he never did -before. And I’ve got the means of finding -out who hustles and who shirks. And I’ve -got the means of paying both kinds. And I -guess there isn’t anyone that doubts I can do -it. Pass that on, too. Caleb Conover for -Governor, and to hell with reform!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER V<br /> <span class='large'>A MEETING, AN INTERRUPTION AND A LETTER</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The campaign was on in sober earnest. -Conover, who kept as well posted on his foe’s -movements as though the League itself sent -him hourly reports, grew vaguely annoyed -as, from day to day, he learned the headway -Standish was making in Granite. The better -classes, almost to a man, flocked to Clive’s -standard. By a series of fiery speeches he -succeeded in rousing a certain hitherto dormant -enthusiasm among the business men of -the town. They found to their surprise that -he was neither a visionary nor a mere agitator; -that he based his plans not on some Utopian -Altruria of high-souled commonweal, -but on a practical basis of clean government.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He pointed out to them how utterly the -Machine ran the Mountain State; how the -railroads and the vested interests of the -party clique sent their own representatives -to the Legislature, and then made them grant -fraudulent franchise after fraudulent franchise -to the men who sent them there. How -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>the taxes were raised and so distributed that -the brunt fell upon the people who least -profited by the State expenditures and by -the legalized wholesale robberies. How, in -fact, the populace of Granite and of the -whole Mountain State were being ridden at -will by a handful of unscrupulous men.</p> - -<p class='c010'>That Caleb Conover was the head and front -of the clique referred to everyone was well -aware, yet Standish studiously avoided all -mention of his name, all personal vituperation. -Whereat Caleb Conover wondered -mightily. Stenographic reports of Clive’s -speeches and of the increasingly large and -enthusiastic meetings he addressed were carefully -conned by the Railroader. And the -tolerant grin with which he read the first of -these reports changed gradually to a scowl -as time went on.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He had made no effort to suppress or in -any way to molest these early meetings. He -wanted to try out his young opponent’s -strength, gauge his following and his methods. -But when, to his growing astonishment, -he found Clive was actually winning a respectful, -ever larger, hearing in his home -town, he decided it was high time to call a -halt. Accordingly he summoned Billy Shevlin.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What’s doing?” he asked curtly, as he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>received his henchmen in the Mausoleum -study.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“To-night’s the big rally at Snyder’s Opera -House, you know,” replied Billy. “Standish’s -booked to make his star speech before -he starts on his State tour. He’s got a team -of Good Gov’ment geezers from Boston to do -a spiel, and he’s callin’ this the biggest scream -of the campaign so far. Say, that young feller’s -makin’ an awful lot of noise, Boss. -When are you goin’ to give us the office to -put the combination on his mouth? On the -level, he ain’t doin’ you no good. Them -speeches of his means votes. The Silk-Socks -is with him already, and he’s winner with -the business bunch in fam’ly groups.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Look here,” said Caleb, pointing out of -the study’s north window, which commanded -a view of exclusive Pompton Avenue and its -almost equally fashionable cross streets, “how -would you figure up the population of that -district?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The Silk-Sockers? You know’s well as -me. Thirty-eight hundred in round numbers.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And over there?” pointing east.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Th’ business districk? An easy 12,000.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Say 16,000 in both. S’pose they are all -for the young Standish. Now look here.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He crossed the long room and ran up the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>shade of one of the south windows. The great -marble house stood on the edge of a hill-crest, -overlooking a distant vista of mean, winding -streets, dirty, interminable rows of tenements, -factories and small shops. Through -the centre, like a huge snake, the tracks of -the C. G. & X. wound their way, and over all -a smeared pall of reek and coal smoke brooded -like some vast bird of prey. Coal yards, -docks, freight houses, elevators, shanties—and -once more that interminable sea of -dingy, squalid domiciles.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What’s the population down there, -Billy?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hundred’n ten thousand, six hundred -an’—” began Shevlin glibly. “An’ every -soul of them solid for you, Boss. Sixteen -thousand to hundred-’n’-ten-thous——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s right. So as long as the youngster’s -content to speak his little pieces here -in Granite, I’ve stood by and let him talk. It -would be time enough to put in a spoke when -he started across country. But this blowout -to-night is different. The stories of it will -get in the Boston and Philadelphia and New -York papers. So——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So there won’t be any meeting?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If you say so, it goes. Will I give the -boys the office to rough-house the joint?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>“And have every out-of-State paper -screeching about ring rule and rowdyism? -Billy, you must have been born more ignorant -than most. You never could have picked -up all you don’t know, in the little time you’ve -lived.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Shevlin looked duly abashed and awaited -further orders.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I hear the gas main that serves Snyder’s -Opera House isn’t in very good order,” resumed -the Boss. “I shouldn’t wonder if all -the lights went out just as the meeting opens -to-night. That’ll mean a lot of confusion. -And my friend, Chief Geoghegan, being a -careful man, will disperse the crowd to prevent -a riot, and to keep pickpockets from -molesting those pure patriots. I want you to -see Geoghegan and the gas company about it, -right away. But look here, there mustn’t be -any rough-house or disorder. Tell the boys -to keep away. I’ll have work enough for -them to do when Standish takes the road.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Billy Shevlin, a great light of joy in his -little beady eyes, departed on his mission, -while Caleb, summoning Anice Lanier, set -about his daily task of dictation. His always -large mail was still more voluminous during -the past week or so, and he had been forced -to double his staff of stenographers. He and -his secretary toiled steadily for three hours -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>to-day, then laid aside the remaining work -until later on.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How’ll you like being secretary to the -Governor, Miss Lanier?” asked Caleb, as he -lighted his cigar and stretched out his thick -legs under the table.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Fully as much as you’ll like being Governor, -I fancy,” she answered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I guess you won’t have to be very much -wedded to the job at that,” sighed Conover. -“Do you know, I’d give a year’s income if -I’d never made that measly speech. But now -that I’m in for it, I’m going to make the fight -of my life. Everybody in the Mountain State -will sure know there’s been a big scrap, and -when it’s over, our young friend, Standish, is -going to be just a sweet, sad memory.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I hear he is making some strong -speeches.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And I hear you went to hear a couple of -them,” retorted Caleb, grinning.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do you mean,” she cried indignantly, -“that you’ve actually been spying on me? -You have dared to——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now, <em>don’t</em> get woozey, Miss Lanier. -What on earth would I spy on <em>you</em> for? Your -time, outside work hours, is your own. And -besides, I’ve got all sorts of proof that you’re -always loyal to my interests.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then how——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>“How’d I find it out? While I don’t keep -tabs on <em>you</em>, I do keep tabs on Nephew-in-law -Standish, and on his meetings and what sort -of people go there. And a couple of times -my men happened to mention that they saw -my pretty secretary in the audience. There, -now, don’t get red. What harm is there in -being found out? Only it kind of amused me -that you never spoke about it here.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why should I? I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No reason at all. A person’s got a right -to lock up what’s in their minds as well as -what’s in their pockets. I always have a lot -of respect for folks who keep their mouths -shut. If you keep your mouth shut about -your own affairs, you’ll keep it shut about -mine. That’s why I have a kind of sneaking -respect for liars, too. Folks who guard what’s -in their brains by making a false trail with -their mouths. The public’s got no more right -to the contents of a man’s brain than it has -to the contents of his safe. And the man who -ain’t ashamed to lock his safe needn’t be -ashamed to tell a lie.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Is that your own philosophy? It’s a -dangerous one.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, I’m not speaking of the man who -lies for the fun of it. Telling a lie when you -don’t need to is tempting Providence.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The girl laughed; so simple and so totally -<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>in earnest was he in expounding his pet -theory. It was only to her that the Railroader -was in the habit of talking on abstruse -themes. Despite her habitual reserve, he -read an underlying interest in his odd ideas -and experiences, and was accordingly lavish -in relating them. She served, unconsciously -to both, as an escape valve for the man’s habitual -dominating self-restraint.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So you agree with Talleyrand,” she suggested, -“that words are given us to hide our -thoughts?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Talleyrand?” he asked, puzzled. “Oh, -one of those book characters you admire so -much, I s’pose. Yes, he was all right in that -proposition. But a lot of times the truth will -hide a man’s thoughts even better. It was by -telling the truth I got out of the worst hole I -ever was in. Ever tell you the mix-up I had -with the Mountain State Coal Company?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Coal Company? I didn’t know there was -any coal in the Mountain State.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No more there is. Only I didn’t know it -then. A chap came along and interested me -in the deal. He said he’d struck a rich coal -vein up in Jericho County. Showed me specimens. -Got ’em somewhere in Pennsylvania, -I s’pose. And got me to float a company. -Well, the stuff they took out of the measly -shaft was a sort of porous black slate or shale -<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>or something, and it wouldn’t burn if you put -it in a white-hot blast furnace. One look -showed me that. And there I was with a company -capitalized at $300,000—half of it my -own money—and suckers subscribing for the -stock and all that, and a gang of a couple of -hundred Ginneys and Svensks at work in the -pit. It wasn’t that I minded the cash loss so -much as I minded being played for a jay, and -the black eye it would give any companies I -might float in the future.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll tell you, I was pretty sore. I was -younger in those days, you see. I ran up to -Jericho to look over the wreck. Next day -was pay day for the hands, and I hadn’t -enough cash with me for half of ’em. I sat -in my hotel that night thinking of the row -and smashup there’d be next morning, and -just wishing I had a third foot to kick myself -with. The lamp got low, and I called for -the landlord to fill it. Some of the kerosene -leaked out while he was doing it and spilled -over a handful of the ore that was lying on -the table. That porous stuff soaked it up like -a sponge. The mess made me sick, and I -picked up the samples of near-coal and -slammed ’em into the fireplace. They blazed -like a Sheeney clothing store.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought you said it wouldn’t burn.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The pieces were soaked in kerosene, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>of course they burned, just as a lamp would -if you threw it in the fire. But it gave me -the tip I wanted. I bolted out of that hotel -and hunted up a couple of my own crowd. -We had the busiest night on record. No use -bothering you with details. A shed, three -barrels of kerosene and a half a ton of ore. -Then early next morning I wandered into the -hotel office and did a despairful scream. I’d -seen to it that the editor of the local paper -was there, and I knew a bunch of the ‘big -guns’ of the place always congregated in the -office for an after-breakfast gossip. Well, I -groaned pretty loud and hectic about the way -I’d been stuck on the ore.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘What’s the matter with it?’ asked one -of my two pals. ‘Won’t the stuff burn?’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Burn!’ I yells. ‘It won’t do a thing -<em>but</em> burn. It burns so hot, it’ll ruin any grate -it’s put in. Why, heat like that is worse than -none at all. It’ll burn out the best grate or -furnace in a week. Nobody’ll be fool enough -to buy such stuff. The company’s smashed!’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“They all stared at me as if I were looney. -Then I made out I was mad clear through.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Don’t believe me, eh?’ says I. ‘Then -look at this.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I throws a pocketful of the ore into the -grate, and it blazes up like mad. The whole -office was torrid hot in five minutes. But the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>crowd was a blamed sight hotter. They went -plumb wild over the new, wonderful fuel I’d -discovered, and tried to explain to me that -it had the heating power of ten times its -weight of coal. But all the time I just shook -my head, and kept on whining that no one’d -buy it because it would burn out furnaces too -quick.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, the upshot of it was that the news -travelled like a streak of lightning. By the -time I got over to the shaft, the gangs were -all on, and their padrones raked up a clause -in the contract that permitted ’em to take -their pay in stock, at par, if they chose to, instead -of cash. Just a piece of technical red -tape they used to stick in mining contracts. -Those padrones fairly squealed for stock, and -near mobbed me when I implored ’em to accept -money instead. So I compromised by -issuing ’em orders for stock at ten above. -But before I’d do even that, I told ’em over -and over that they were making fools of -themselves and the stock and ore were worthless. -They laughed at me, and thought I was -trying to grab all the stock for myself. So I -made ’em sign a paper saying that they took -it at their own request and risk, and against -my will and advice; and I gave ’em their stock -orders and came back to town with my pay -satchel still full.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>“By the time I struck the hotel the place -was jammed. Folks had flocked from all over -to see the wonderful fuel and watch it burn. -Rich farmers, capitalists from Granite and a -lot more. The stock had been at 28¼. Inside -of two days it was at 129, and still booming. -Then I sold. But as president of the -company I refused to let a single share be -distributed without the buyer signing a blank -that he took it at his own risk, and that I had -told him the ore was worthless. And I kept -on shouting that it was worthless, and that -the public was robbing itself by buying such -stuff. What was the result? The more I -told the truth, the harder the suckers bit. -Widows and ministers and such-like easy -marks most of all, I hear. I got out of the -company in disgust, and announced I’d have -no dealings with such an iniquitous, swindling -scheme. Folks thought I’d gone clean -silly, and they bought and bought and bought, -and then——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And then?” as Conover lighted a fresh -cigar.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, then they woke up and screamed -louder than ever.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What was done about it? Was there no -redress?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Redress’ nothing! What redress could -there be for a pack of get-rich-quick guys -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>who had insisted on buying my stock after -I’d told them just how worthless it was? -Didn’t I have their own signed statements -that I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And you call that transaction an instance -of truth-telling?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, well, the <em>real</em> truth’s too precious to -squander foolishly where it won’t be appreciated. -It’s like whiskey: got to be weakened -to the popular taste. And speaking of liars, -have you kept your eye much on Jerry -lately?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, why?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That young ass has got something on the -thing he calls his mind, and I’ve a good working -notion the ‘Something’ is a scheme to -get even with me. I just judge that from -what I know of him. He gets his morning -letter from that chorus missus of his, and -then he sits and rolls his eyes at me for half -an hour. He’s framing up something all -right, all right. What it is, I don’t know. -That’s the advantage a fool has over a wise -man! You can dope out some line of action -on a man of brains, but the Almighty himself -don’t know what a fool’ll do next. So I’m -kind of riding herd on Jerry from afar.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Perhaps if you tried a new tack—took -him into your confidence——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There wouldn’t be any confidence left. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>No man’s got enough for two. Sometimes -I’m shy on even the little I once had.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The campaign?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The campaign? That ain’t a question of -confidence any more than knowing the sun -will rise and Missouri will go Democratic. I -was thinking of the confidence I had of winning -the Pompton Avenue crowd by that -measly reception.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You haven’t succeeded?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not so’s you’d notice it. A few of the -people who are so tangled up in my deals that -they are scared not to be civil, nod sort of -sheepish at me when I meet ’em. The rest -get near-sighted as soon as I come round the -corner. As for calling on us or inviting me -to any of their houses, why you’d think I was -the Voice of Conscience by the way they sidestep -me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But the season hasn’t really opened. In -most cities, people aren’t even back from the -seaside or mountains yet. Perhaps, later -on——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Later on the present performance will -be encored by popular request. Say, Miss -Lanier, I was half jagged that night. But I -can remember telling you that I was happier -just then than I’d ever been before. I was in -society at last. My boy was a member of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>smart set in New York. My girl was a princess. -I was going to be Governor.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, look at me now. Jerry’s made a -lifelong mess of his future. Blanche is on -the way to Yurrup with a bargain counter -prince that I’d hate to compliment by calling -deuce-high. My deebut into society was -like the feller in the song, who ‘Walked Right -in and Turned Around and Walked Right out -Again.’ The Governorship’s the only thing -left; and I’m getting so I’m putting into that -all the hopes I squandered on the rest. And -when I’ve nailed it, I’ve a half mind to try -for President. That’d carry me clear through -society, and on out on the other side.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Anice listened to him with a sort of wonderment, -which always possessed her when he -spoke of his social aspirations. That a man -of his indomitable strength and largeness of -nature should harp so eternally and yearn so -strenuously in that one petty strain, never -ceased to amaze her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The feet of clay on the image of iron,” -she told herself as she dismissed the thought.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“By the way,” asked Conover, as she rose -to leave the room, “were you thinking of -going to the Standish meeting to-night?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” she answered, meeting his quizzical -gaze fearlessly, “if you can spare me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I’m afraid I -can’t. I’ve about a ream of campaign stuff -to go through, and I shall need your help.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Very well,” answered Anice, and he -could decipher neither disappointment nor -any other emotion in those childlike brown -eyes of hers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Lord!” he muttered to himself as she -went out, “what a politician that woman -would have made! The devil himself can’t -read her. If I had married a girl like that -instead—I wonder if that heart-trouble of -the wife’s is ever likely to carry her off sudden.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>An hour or so of sunlight remained. -Anice, tired from her all-day confinement -indoors, donned hat and jacket and sallied -forth for a walk. She turned her steps -northward toward the open country that lay -beyond Pompton Avenue. There was a sting -in the early fall air in that high latitude -which made walking a pleasure. Moreover, -after the atmosphere of work, tobacco, politics -and reminiscences that had been her portion -since early morning, it was a joy to be -alone with the cool and the sweetness of the -dying day. Besides, she wanted to think.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But the solitary stroll she had planned was -not to be her portion, for, as she rounded the -first corner, she came upon Clive Standish -<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>deep in talk with Ansel. Clive’s tired eyes -brightened at the sight of her. The look of -weariness that had crept into the candidate’s -face since she had last seen him went straight -to Anice’s heart. With a hurried word of -dismissal to his campaign manager, Standish -left his companion and fell into step at Miss -Lanier’s side.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This is better than I expected,” said he. -“I always manage to include Pompton Avenue -in my tramps lately, but this is the first -time I’ve caught a glimpse of you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You are looking badly,” she commented. -“You are working too hard.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“One must, in a fight like mine. It’s -nothing to what I must do during my tour. -Everything depends on that. I start to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So soon? I’m sorry.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why?” he asked in some surprise.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m afraid you’ll find Mr. Conover -stronger up-State than you think. I don’t -like to see you disappointed.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You care?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Of course I do. I hate to see anyone disappointed.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How delightfully impersonal!” grumbled -Clive, in disgust.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought you were averse to personalities. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>You’ve said so in both the speeches I’ve -heard you make.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You came to hear me? I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“One likes to keep abreast of the times; -to hear both sides——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And having heard both——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“One forms one’s own conclusions.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And yours are——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Quite formed.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Anice!” exclaimed Standish impatiently, -“nature never cut you out for a Sybil. -Can’t you be frank? If you only knew what -your approval—your good wishes—mean to -me, you would be kinder.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There are surely enough people who encourage -you and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, there are not. I want <em>your</em> encouragement, -<em>your</em> faith; just as I had it when -we were boy and girl together, you and I!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You forget, I am in the employ of Mr. -Conover. As long as I accept his wages, -would it be loyal of me to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then why accept them? If only——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“One must make a living in some way. I -have other reasons, too.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That same wretched old mystery again! -As for making a living, that’s a different -thing, and it has changed too many lives. -Once, years ago, for instance, when I was -struggling to make a living—and a bare, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>scant one at that—I kept silent when my -heart clamored to speak. I kept silent because -I had no right to ask any woman to -share my hard luck. But now I’m on my -feet. I’ve made the ‘living’ you talk about. -And there’s enough of it for two. So I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I congratulate you on your success,” said -the girl nervously. “Here is my corner. I -must hurry back. I’ve a long evening’s work -to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Anice!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good-by!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You <em>must</em> hear me. I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hello, Miss Lanier! Parleying with the -enemy, eh? Come, come, that isn’t playing -square. ’Evening, Standish!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb Conover, crossing the street from -the side entrance of his own grounds, had -confronted the two before they noted his approach. -Looking from one to the other, he -grinned amusedly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve heard there was more’n one leak in -our camp,” he went on, “but I never s’posed -<em>this</em> was it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Trembling with confusion, perhaps with -some deeper emotion, Anice nevertheless answered -coolly:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I hope my absence hasn’t delayed any -of your work? I was on my way back, when -you——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>“Now look at that,” exclaimed Caleb -with genuine admiration. “Here’s my hated -enemy as red and rattled as if I’d caught him -stuffing ballot-boxes or cheering for Conover! -And the lady in the case is as cool as -cucumbers, and she don’t bat an eye. Standish, -she’s seven more kinds of a man than -you are, or ever will be, for all your big -shoulders and bigger line of talk. Well, we -won’t keep you any longer, son. No use -askin’ you in, I s’pose? No? Then maybe -I’ll drop around to your meeting this evening. -I’d ’a’ come before, but it always makes -me bashful to hear myself praised to the public. -Good night.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was late that evening when Clive reached -his rooms, for a few brief hours of rest before -setting forth on his tour of the State. -He was tired out, discouraged, miserable. -His much-heralded meeting had been the -dreariest sort of fiasco. Scarcely had the -opening address begun and the crowded house -warmed up to the occasion, when every light -in the building had been switched off.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Inquiry showed that a break had occurred -in the gas mains which could not be remedied -until morning. Candles and lamps were hurriedly -sent for. Meantime, though a certain -confusion followed the plunging of the place -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>into darkness, the crowd had been, on the -whole, orderly. In spite of this, the chief of -police, with twenty reserves, coming on the -scene, had ordered Standish civilly enough -to dismiss the audience. Then the policemen -had filed up on the stage, illumining it by -their bull’s-eye lanterns, and clustered ominously -about the speakers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In response to Clive’s angry protest, the -chief had simply reiterated his order, adding -that his department was responsible for the -city’s peace and quiet, and that the crowd -showed an inclination to riot. Nor could the -Arm of the Law be shaken from this stand. -The audience, during the colloquy between -Standish and the chief had grown impatient, -and an occasional catcall or shrill whistle had -risen from the darkened auditorium. At -each of these sounds the police had gripped -their nightsticks and glanced with a fine apprehension -at their leader for commands.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The upshot of the matter had been the -forced dismissal of the spectators. Standish -had scouted Ansel’s suggestion that the whole -catastrophe was a ruse of Conover’s, until, -as he walked down the dark aisle toward the -door, he heard a policeman whisper:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I was waitin’ for the chief to give some -of us the tip to pinch him.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“An’ let him make a noise like a martyr?” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>grunted a second voice easily recognized -as Billy Shevlin’s. “You must think -the Boss is as balmy in the belfry as you -blue lobsters. He’d ’a’ had Geoghegan broke -if he’d——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The rest of the reply had been lost.</p> - -<p class='c010'>No other disengaged hall could be found -in the vicinity; and the meeting from which -Clive had expected so much had gone by the -board. He walked home in a daze of chagrin. -How could he hope to fight a man who -employed such weapons; who swayed such -power in every city department; who thus -early in the campaign showed plainly he -would stop at nothing in beating his opponent?</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then the young candidate’s teeth clenched -tight, and the sullen grit that for so many -centuries has carried the bulldog race of yellow-haired, -strong-jawed Anglo-Saxons to -victory against hopeless odds came to his aid. -He shook his big shoulders as if tossing off -some physical weight, entered his rooms and -switched on the electric light.</p> - -<p class='c010'>On his study table lay a special delivery -letter, neatly typewritten, as was the single -long sheet of foolscap it contained. Standish -glanced at the bottom of the page. There -was no signature. Then he read:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The date for the various county conventions -<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>has not been formally set. It is unofficially -given as a week from Saturday. Instead, -the caucus will be held in three of the -eight counties <em>next</em> Saturday. The Machine’s -men know this. The League’s don’t. It will -be sprung as a surprise, with two days’ notice -instead of the customary seven. This -will keep many of the League’s people from -attending. At the Bowden and Jericho caucuses -telegrams will be received saying you -have withdrawn.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“At Matawan and Haldane the regular -delegates will be notified to meet at the town -halls. While they are waiting outside the -locked front doors, the county chairman and -his own crowd will step in the back way and -hold their caucus and elect their delegates. -Floaters will be brought into several counties. -In Wills County the chairman will fail -to hear the names of your delegates. Have -your manager arrange for the Wills men to -bolt at the right time. Force the State Committee -<em>at once</em> to declare the date for the -county conventions. Notify the League’s -men at Matawan and Haldane of the ‘back -door’ trick, and have the telegraph operators -at Jericho and Bowden warned not to -receive or transmit any fake message of your -withdrawal.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“On your State tour you will find newspapers -<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>closed to your speeches and advertisements, -and a number of the halls engaged -before you get to the town. Arrange for injunctions -restraining the papers from barring -your notices, and have someone go ahead -of you to secure halls. And arrange for -police protection to break up rowdyism at -your meetings.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive Standish read and re-read this remarkable -epistle. That it had come from the -Conover camp he could not doubt. He had -heard, before Caleb’s hint of the previous -afternoon, that there was a certain discontent -and vague rumor of treachery, in more than -one of the multifarious branches of the Boss’s -business and political interests. For the unexpected -strength developed by the Civic -League and the eloquence of its candidate had -shaken divers of the enemy’s less resolute followers, -and more than one of these might -readily seek to curry future favor with the -winning side by casting just such an anchor -to windward.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In any case, there was the letter. Its author’s -identity, for the moment, was of no -great matter.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Anonymous!” mused Standish, eyeing -the missive with strong distaste. “Is it a -trick of Conover’s or a bit of treachery on -the part of one of the men he trusts? In -<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>either case, there’s only one course a white -man can take with a thing of this kind.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Picking up the letter, he crumpled it into -a ball and threw it into the fireplace.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Better not say anything about it to Ansel,” -he decided as he watched the paper -twist open under the heat and break into a -blaze. “He’d only call me a visionary crank -again. And if it’s a trap, the precautions -he’d take would play straight into Conover’s -hand.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Some blocks away, in his Pompton Avenue -Mausoleum, the Railroader was giving final -orders to the henchmen to whom he had intrusted -the details of watching Standish’s -forthcoming tour. And some of these same -details he had even intrusted to the unenthusiastic -Gerald.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VI<br /> <span class='large'>CALEB WORKS AT LONG RANGE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Clive Standish opened his up-State tour -the following night in the small town of -Wayne. It was a farming centre, and the -hall was tolerably well filled with bearded -and tanned men who had an outdoor look. -Some of them had brought their wives; sallow, -dyspeptic, angular creatures with the -patient, dull faces of women who live close -to nature and are too busy to profit thereby.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The audience listened interestedly as Clive -outlined the Boss-ridden condition of the -Mountain State, the exorbitant cost of transporting -and handling agricultural products, -the unjust taxes that fell so heavily on the -farmer and wage-earner, the false system of -legislation and the betrayal of the people’s -rights by the men they were bamboozled into -electing to represent them and protect their -interests. He went on to tell how New York -and other States had from time to time risen -and shaken off a similar yoke of Bossism, and -to show how, both materially and in point of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>self-respect, the voters of the Mountain State -could profit by following such examples. In -closing he briefly described the nature, aims -and purposes of the Civic League and the -practical reforms to which he himself stood -pledged.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It did Clive’s heart good to see how readily -his audience responded in interest to his -pleas. He had not spoken ten minutes before -he felt he had his house with him. He -finished amid a salvo of applause. His hearers -flocked about him as he came down from -the platform, shaking his hand, asking him -questions, praising his discourse.</p> - -<p class='c010'>One big farmer slapped him on the back, -crying:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re all right, Mr. Standish! If you -can carry out all you’ve promised, I guess -Wills County’ll stand by you, solid. But -why on earth didn’t you advertise you was -comin’ to Wayne to-night? If it hadn’t ’a’ -been for your agent that passed through here -yesterday and told some of the boys at the -hotel and the post office, you wouldn’t ’a’ had -anyone to hear you. If we’d known what was -comin’, this hall’d ’a’ been packed.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But surely you read my advertisements -in your local papers?” exclaimed Clive, -“I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We sure didn’t read anything of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>kind,” retorted a dairyman. “I read everything -in the <cite>Wayne Clarion</cite>, from editorials -to soap ads., an’ there hasn’t been a line -printed about your meetin’.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I sent my agent ahead to place paid advertisements -with every paper along my -route,” said the puzzled Standish. “And -you say he was in town here yesterday. So -he couldn’t have skipped Wayne. I’ll drop -in on the editor of the <em>Clarion</em> on my way to -the station and ask him why the advertisement -was overlooked.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Accordingly, a half hour later, en route for -the midnight train, Standish sought out the -<em>Clarion</em> office and demanded an interview -with its editor-in-chief.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I guess that’s me,” observed a fat, shirt-sleeved -man, who looked up from his task of -tinkering with a linotype machine’s inner -mysteries. “I’m Mr. Gerrett, editor-in-chief, -managing editor, city editor, too. My -repertorial staff’s out to supper, this being -pay day and he being hungry. Were you -wanting to subscribe or—? Take a chair, anyhow,” -he broke off, sweeping a pile of proofs -off a three-legged stool. “Now, what can I -do for you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My name is Standish,” began Clive, -“and I called to find out why——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh!”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>The staccato monosyllable served as clearing -house for all Gerrett’s geniality, for he -froze—as much as a stout and perspiring -man can—into editorial super-dignity. Aware -that the atmosphere had congealed, but without -understanding why, Clive continued:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My agent called here, did he not? And -left an advertisement of——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” snapped Gerrett, “he did. I was -out. He left it with my foreman with the -cash for it. I mailed a check for the amount -this morning to your League headquarters at -Granite.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But why? The advert——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The ad.’s in my waste-basket. Now, as -this is my busy night, maybe you’ll clear out -and let——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Look here!” said Clive, sternly, and refusing -to notice the opened door, “what does -this mean?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It means we don’t want your ads. nor -your money.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Were you too crowded for space and had -to leave the advertisement out?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, we weren’t. We don’t want any -dealings with you or the alleged ‘League’ -you’re running. That’s all. Ain’t that plain -enough?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No,” answered Clive, trying to keep cool, -“I want a reason.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>“You’ll keep on wanting it, then. I’m -boss of this office, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The <em>real</em> boss? I doubt it. If you were, -what reason would you have for turning -away paid advertisements? I may do you -an injustice, my friend, but I think you’re -acting under orders.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re off!” shouted Gerrett, reddening. -“I run this paper as I choose. And I -don’t take orders from any man. I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nor passes? Nor freight rebates on -paper rolls, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“D’ye mean to insult me?” bellowed Gerrett, -wallowing forward, threatening as a -fat black thundercloud. “I’ll have you -know——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t think,” replied Clive, calmly, and -receding not a step, “I don’t think you <em>could</em> -be insulted, Mr. Gerrett. You are making -rather a pitiable exhibition of yourself. Why -not own up to it that you are acting under orders -of the ‘Machine,’ whose tool you are? -The ‘Machine’ which is so afraid of the -truth that it takes pains to muzzle the press. -The ‘Machine’ that is so well aware of its -own rottenness, it dare not let the people -whom it is defrauding hear the other side of -the case. Why not admit you are bought?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Gerrett was sputtering unintelligible wrath.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Get out of my office!” he roared at last.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>“Certainly,” assented Standish, “I’ve -learned all I wanted to. You serve your -masters well. I hope they pay you as adequately.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He turned to the door. Before he reached -it a thin youth with ink-smears on his fingers -swung in.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hard luck!” exclaimed the newcomer. -“That Standish meeting’s raised a lot of -interest downtown. Pity we can’t run anything -on it! It’d make a dandy first-page -spread.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Shut up!” bellowed Gerrett. “You -young——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t scold him,” counselled Standish, -walking out. “He didn’t make any break. -We’re all three in the secret.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The next few days witnessed practical repetitions -of the foregoing experiences. In almost -every town the local newspapers not only -refused to report a line of Standish’s speeches, -but would not accept his advertisements. -Nor, in most places, could he find a job office -willing to print handbills for him. His -agent had nearly everywhere been able to -engage a hall; but as no adequate preliminary -notice of the meeting had been published, -audiences were pitiably slim. In one -or two towns, where the papers did not belong -<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>to the “Machine,” it was discovered that -every hall, lodge-room or other available -meeting-place had been engaged in advance -by some mysterious competitor. Clive, at -such settlements, was forced to speak in open -air. Even then the police at one town dispersed -the gathering under excuse of fearing -a riot; at two others the mayor refused -a license to hold an outdoor meeting, and at -a fourth, a gang of toughs, at long range, -pelted the audience with stones and elderly -eggs, the police refusing to interfere.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At length Clive’s advance agent returned -to the candidate in abject despair.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve been doing this sort of work eight -years,” the man reported, “but this time I’m -clean stumped. I can’t make any headway. -The papers, the city authorities, the opera-house-and-hall-proprietors -and the police are -all under Conover’s thumb. It’s got so that -as soon as I reach a town I can find out right -away who is and who isn’t in the ‘Machine’s’ -pay. Where the papers aren’t muzzled—and -there are precious few such places—the -halls are closed to us, and either the mayor or -the police will stop the meeting. Where the -papers are working for Conover, we can get -all the halls we want, because the Boss knows -the news of your speech can’t circulate except -by word of mouth.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>“Oh, they’ve got us whipsawed in grand -shape! I’m wondering what’ll happen at -Grafton Monday night. That’s the biggest -city next to Granite, and there’s always been -more or less of a kick there against Conover -rule. They’ve got a square man for mayor, -and one of their three newspapers is strong -for you. I was able to get the opera house, -too. It’s your big chance of the campaign, -and your last chance on this tour. The rest -of the towns on your route I can’t do anything -with. I’m waiting to see what dirty game -Conover will play at Grafton, now that he -can’t work his usual tricks there. He’ll be -sure to try something.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Billy Shevlin, who had also acted (unsuspectedly -as unofficially) as advance agent -of Clive Standish’s tour, had in three respects -excelled the authorized agent: In the -first place, he had been as successful as the -other had been a failure. In the second, he -had not turned back. Third, and last, he was -not in the very least discouraged. Nor had -he need to be.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Yet even to him Grafton presented the first -serious problem. And to it he devoted much -of his time and more of his cleverness. At -last he formed a plan and saw that his plan -was good.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive reached Grafton at noon of the day -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>he was scheduled to speak. This was the second -largest city in the Mountain State. Here, -next to Granite, must the chief battle of the -campaign be waged. On the effect of his -speech here hung a great percentage of Clive’s -hopes for the coming State convention. As -Grafton went, so would big Matawan County, -whose centre it was. And Grafton, wavering -in fealty to Conover, might yet be won to the -Standish ranks by the right sort of speech. -So with the glow of approaching struggle -upon him Clive awaited the night. All he -asked was a fair hearing. This, presumably, -was for once to be accorded him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At the hotel on his arrival he found Karl -Ansel waiting. The big, lean New Englander -was in a state of white-hot wrath.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You got my telegram and the notice of -the caucuses, I suppose!” he growled as Clive -met him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No. I ordered all mail forwarded here, -and telegrams, too. I broke away from my -route Saturday, when I found I couldn’t get -a hall at Smithfield. I cancelled my date -there and went over to Deene, leaving word -for everything to be sent on to Grafton. Then, -yesterday——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Never mind that. We’re done! Beat! -Tricked!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>“The county conventions—the caucuses! -In every—nearly every one of the eight counties -Conover worked some blackguardism. To -some he sent telegrams that you backed out. -In others his chairmen tried the ‘back door’ -act. And I wrote you how they’d ‘snapped’ -the dates and caught us unready. Then——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive recalled the anonymous letter which -later events had driven from his memory. If -only he had been able to lower himself to his -opponent’s level and take advantage of it—of -the treachery in the Conover ranks! If——</p> - -<p class='c010'>But Ansel was still pouring out the flood of -his ill-temper.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Whipsawed us, right and left,” he declared. -“Beat us at every point as easy as -taking candy from a baby. What are <em>we</em> -doing in politics? We’re a lot of silly amateurs -against——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We’re a lot of honest men against a gang -of crooks. And in the long run we’ll win. -We——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The long run, eh? Well, the run has begun, -and they’ve got us on it. We’re beat!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Poor old Ansel,” laughed Clive, “how -many times during the past fortnight have I -heard you say that? And every time you pick -yourself up again and go on with the fight. -Just as you’ll do now.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not on your life! I—oh, well, I suppose -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>I will, if it comes to that! But it’s a burning, -blazing shame.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If it wasn’t for just such ‘burning, blazing -shames,’ there’d be no need for our campaign. -It’s to crush such ‘shames’ that we’re -working. Cheer up! I’ve great hopes for to-night’s -meeting.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Tersely he described his trip, the drawbacks -he had encountered, and the better chances -that seemed to attend the Grafton rally, Ansel -interspersing the tale with a volley of queries -and expletives.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’d heard of this press-muzzling,” said he -as Standish ended, “and I have one way of -blocking it. I’ve arranged for your speeches -and ‘ads.’ and advance notices to be printed -in the biggest paper in the next State, and -scattered all through the Mountain State as -campaign documents. I don’t think even Conover -can block that move.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Splendid!” cried Standish. “Old man, -you’re a genius!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, I’m not,” contradicted Ansel, rather -ruefully, “but someone else is. I don’t know -who.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t understand.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, the idea was sent to me three days -ago, anonymously. Typewritten on foolscap. -No signature. What d’you think of that?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Anonymously?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>“Yes. I wonder why. The idea’s so good, -one would think the originator’d claim it. -Unless——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Unless it came from the Conover camp?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just what occurred to <em>me</em>. Anyhow, I’ve -adopted the suggestion. I suppose <em>you’d</em> have -refused to accept anonymous help, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Every man to his own folly. It’s done -now.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It sure is. And with a few more such tips, -Conover would be ‘done,’ too. He’s carried -matters high-handedly for years, but now -maybe someone he’s ridden rough-shod over -has turned on him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The great night had come. Clive and Ansel, -arriving at the Opera House, found that -gaudy, gayly-lighted auditorium full to the -doors. On the stage sat the mayor, the proprietor -of one of the papers, a half-dozen -clergymen and a score of civic dignitaries. -The boxes were filled with well-dressed -women. Evening suits blended with the less -conspicuous costumes of the spectators who -stretched from stage to entrance, from orchestra -to roof. A band below the stage -played popular and national airs.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The news of Clive’s eccentric pre-convention -tour, of his eloquence, his clean manliness -and the obstacles he had overcome, had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>drawn hundreds through sheer curiosity. -More had come because they were weary of -Conover’s rule and eagerly desired to learn -what his young antagonist had to offer them -in place of bossism.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Skilled, by experience, in reading the sentiment -of crowds, Clive, as he stepped onto the -stage, felt instinctively that the main body of -the house was kindly disposed toward him. -Not only was this proven by the spontaneous -applause that heralded his appearance, but -by a ripple—a rustle—of interest that rose -on every hand. The sound nerved him. He -considered once more how much hung on to-night’s -success or failure, and the advance -augury was as music to his ears.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The mayor, a little, nervous man with a -monstrous mustache and a cast in one eye, -opened the meeting with a brief speech, defining -the purpose of the evening, and ended -by introducing the candidate. Clive came -forward. A volley of applause such as he -had never before known hailed him. He -bowed and bowed again, waiting for it to subside. -But it did not. It continued from every -quarter of the house.</p> - -<p class='c010'>From pleasure Clive felt a growing uneasiness. -The majority of the audience seemed -to have relapsed into silence, and were staring -about them in wonder at the unduly continued -<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>ovation. The thumping of feet and -canes and the shouts of welcome increased -rather than diminished. It settled down into -a steady volume of sound, regular and rhythmic, -shaking the whole auditorium, losing -any hint at spontaneity and degenerating -into a deafening, organized babel.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The men on the platform glanced at each -other in angry bewilderment. For fully ten -minutes the tumult endured, rendering intelligible -words out of the question. The mayor, -as chairman, rapped for silence. But his -efforts were vain. The sound was drowned -in the vaster, reëchoing volume of rhythmic -sound. Clive held up his hand with a gesture -of authority. The applause doubled.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This was growing absurd. The quiet majority -of the audience waxed restive, and half-rose -in its seats to locate the disturbance. To -end the embarrassing delay Standish began -to speak, hoping the clamor would die down. -But his words did not reach the second row of -seats.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Ansel slipped forward to his side.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This is a put-up job!” he exclaimed, -shouting to make himself heard above the uproar. -“They are pretending to applaud because -they think you dare not call them down -for that. They’ll keep it up all evening if -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>they get a chance, and you won’t be able to -speak ten words.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>In a front orchestra seat a man stood up -waving a flag and bawling:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>Standish!</em> <em>Standish!</em> <em>We want</em> STANDISH!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The rest of Billy Shevlin’s carefully drilled -cohorts took up the cry, and it was chanted a -hundred times to the accompaniment of -resounding sticks and boot heels.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The mayor beckoned a deputy sheriff from -the wings. Pointing to the front-seat ringleader -he commanded:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Put that fellow out.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The deputy descended the steps to the orchestra, -grabbed the vociferating enthusiast -by the collar and started to propel him up the -aisle. In an instant, as though the action -were a signal, every sound ceased. The house -was as still as death. And through the silence -soared the shrill, penetrating protest of -the man who had just been collared.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You leave me be!” he yelled. “I’ve got -as much right here as you have. An’ I’m -earnin’ my money.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What money!” shouted a trained querist -in the gallery.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The cash Mr. Standish promised me for -leadin’ the applause, of course. He’s payin’ -me an’ the rest of the boys good, an’ we’re -<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>goin’ to earn our dough. <em>Standish!</em> <em>Standish!</em> -<em>We want</em>——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then pandemonium broke loose. Hundreds -of voices caught up the rhythmic refrain, -while hundreds more shrieked -“Fake!” and a counter rhythm arose of</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>Fake!</em> <em>Fake!</em> <em>Fake!</em> <em>Fake!</em> FAKE!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Standish, abandoning all present hope of -making the audience understand that the -shrill-voiced man was a hireling of Conover’s, -and that the whole affair was a gigantic, -well-rehearsed trick, turned to face -the group on the platform. But there, at a -glance, he read in a dozen pairs of eyes suspicion, -contempt, disgust.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m sorry, Mr. Standish,” sneered the -little mayor, “that your friends are over-zealous -in earning their——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do you mean that you—that <em>anybody</em>—can -believe such an absurdity?” cried Standish. -“Can’t you see——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I can only see,” said the mayor, rising, -“that I have evidently misunderstood the -purpose and nature of this meeting. Good -night.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>To Clive’s horror the little dignitary walked -off the stage, followed by two-thirds of those -who had sat there with him. The majority of -the boxes’ occupants followed suit. The few -who remained on the platform did so, to judge -<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>from their expression, more from interest in -the outcome of the riotous audience’s antics -than through any faith in Clive. For by this -time the erstwhile orderly place was in full -riot. Individual fights and tussles were waging -here and there. Men were shouting aimlessly. -Women were screaming. People -were hurrying in a jostling, confused mass -up the aisles toward the exits, while others -bellowed to them to sit still or move faster. -And through all (both factions of shouters -having united in a common slogan) rang to -an accompaniment of smashing chairs and -pounding feet that endless metrical refrain of</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>Fake!</em> <em>Fake!</em> <em>Fake!</em> <em>Fake!</em> FAKE!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Standish, Ansel at his side, was once more -at the platform’s edge, striving in vain to -send his mighty voice through the cataract -of noise. One tough, in the pure joy of living -and rioting, had climbed over the rail of a -proscenium box—the only one still occupied—and, -throwing an arm about the neck of a -young girl, sitting there with an elderly man -and woman, tried to kiss her. The girl -screamed. Her elderly escort thrust the -rowdy backward, and the latter, his insecure -balance on the box rail destroyed, tumbled -down among the orchestra chairs. The scene -was greeted with a howl of delight from kindred -spirits.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>The youth scrambled to his feet and, joined -by a half dozen intimates, once more swarmed -up the side of the box. The girl shrank back, -and futilely tugged at the closed box door, -which had become jammed. The old man, -quivering with senile fury, leaned over the -box-front and grappled the foremost assailant. -He was brushed aside and, amid a hurricane -of laughter from the paid phalanx in -the gallery, the group of half-drunk, wholly-inspired -young brutes clustered across the -box rail. The whole incident had not occupied -five seconds. Yet it had served to draw -the multi-divided attention of the mob and -the rest of the escaping audience to that particular -and new point of interest And now, -dozens of the tougher element, seeing a prospect -of better sport than a mere campaign -row, elbowed their way to the spot.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The girl’s cry and that of the woman with -her had barely reached the stage when Clive -Standish, with one tremendous spring, had -cleared the six-foot distance between footlights -and box. There was a confused, whirling, -cursing mass of bodies and arms. Then -the whole group rolled outward over the rail.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Before they had fairly touched ground -Clive was on his feet, the centre of a surprised -but bellicose swirl of opponents who were -nothing loath to change their plan of baiting a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>well-dressed girl into the more thrilling pastime -of beating a well-dressed candidate.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As the score of toughs rushed him, Clive -had barely time to get his back into the shallow -angle between the bulging outer bases of the -two proscenium boxes. Then the rush was -upon him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hitting clean and straight, and with the -speed and unerring deadliness of the trained -heavyweight boxer, Clive for the moment held -his own. There was no question of guarding. -He relied rather for protection on the unusual -length of his arms.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Nor could a blow be planned beforehand. -It was hit, hit, and keep on hitting. Fully -twenty youths and men surged forward at -him, and at nearly every blow one went down -among the pushing throng. But for each -who fell there were always two more to take -his place. The impact and crash of blows -sounded above the yells and shuffle of feet. -This was not boxing. It was butchery.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Only his semi-sheltered position and the -self-confusing hurry and numbers of his assailants -kept Clive on his feet and allowed -him to hold his own.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Yet, as he dimly realized even through the -wild lust of battle that gripped and intoxicated -him, the fight was but a question of -moments. Soon someone, running in, must -<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>grapple or trip him, or a kick would reach -and disable him. And once down, in that bedlam -of stamping, kicking feet, his life would -not be worth a scrap of paper.</p> - -<p class='c010'>While it lasted, though, it was glorious. -The veneered shell of civilization had been -battered away. He was primitive man, gigantic, -furious, terrible; battling against -hopeless odds. Yet battling (as had those -ancestors from whom his yellow hair, great -shoulders and bulldog jaw were inherited) -all the more gladly and doughtily because of -those very odds.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He was aware of a man who, running along -the box rail from the stage, had dropped to -his side and stood swinging a gilded, blue-cushioned -box-chair about his head. This -apparition and the whizzing sweep of his odd -weapon caused the toughs to give back for an -instant.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good old Ansel!” panted Clive.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Save your breath!” grunted Karl. -“You’ll need it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then a yell from twenty throats and the -rush was on again. At first, anticipating the -easy triumph which their type so love, the -toughs had turned from the milder fun of -frightening a girl of the better class to the -momentary work of thrashing the solitary -<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>man who had interfered with that simple -amusement. Now, bleeding faces, swollen -eyes and more than one fractured jaw and -nose had transformed the earlier phase of -rough spirits into one of murderous rage.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The man who had so mercilessly punished -them must not be allowed to escape alive. -The tough never fights fair. When fists fail, -a gouge, bite or kick is considered quite allowable. -When, as in the present instance, -the intended victim is so protected as to -render these tactics difficult of success, pockets -are usually ransacked for more formidable -weapons.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Ansel’s arrival on the scene had but checked -the onrush. No two men, big and powerful as -both were, could subdue nor hold out against -that assault.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive struck, right, left, with the swiftness -of thought. And each blow crashed into -yielding, reeling flesh.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Down whirled Ansel’s chair on the bullet -head of one man, and down went the man beneath -the impact.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Up whirled the chair and again it descended -on another head—descended and shivered -into kindling wood.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Dropping the fragments, Karl ranged close -to Clive and together the two struck out, the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>one with the wild force and fury of a kicking -horse, the other with the colder but no less -terrific accuracy of the trained athlete.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A tough, ducking one of Ansel’s wild swings, -ran in and caught him about the waist. Doubling -his left leg under him, Karl caught the -man’s stomach with the point of his knee. The -assailant collapsed, gasping. But the momentary -lapse of the tall New Englander’s -fistic attack had opened a breach through -which two more men rushed and flung themselves -bodily on him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive, unaware of his ally’s plight, yet felt -the increased impetus of the onslaught on -himself, and had to rally his every faculty -to withstand it. His breath was coming hard -from his heaving chest, and his head swam -with fatigue and excitement. More than one -heavy blow had reached his face and body. -Then——</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Clear the way there, youse!” howled an -insane, mumbling voice “Lemme at ’im! -I’ll pay ’im for this smashed jaw!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The press immediately in front of Clive -Standish slackened and the crowd opened. -In its centre reeled a horrible figure—bloodstained, -torn of clothing, raging and distorted -of face, one hand nursing an unshaven -jaw, while the other flourished a revolver.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Lemme at ’im!” mumbled the pain-maddened -<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>tough through a hedge of splintered -teeth. “Clear the way or I’ll shoot to clear!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then, finding himself directly in front of -Standish, the maniac halted and levelled his -weapon.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Something swished through the air from -behind Clive’s head. A big shapeless object -hurtled forward and smote the broken-jawed -tough full across the eyes on the very instant -he fired at point-blank range.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The ball went wild, and surprise at the odd -blow he had received (apparently from nowhere), -caused the man’s pistol to clatter to -the ground.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The girl in the box—innocent cause of the -whole battle—had paid her debt to the man -who had imperilled his life in her defence. -She had crouched, trembling, in the background -watching the progress of the fray. -But as the intended murderer’s trigger-finger -had tightened, she had hurled at his face, -with all her frail force, the huge bouquet she -carried. For once a woman’s aim was unerring, -and thereby a man’s life was saved.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Her act—melodramatic, amazing, unlooked-for, -eccentric in its poetic justice and theatric -effects—sent a roar of applause from the onlookers, -even as the pistol-shot momentarily -startled the group of ruffians into sanity. -Clive, without awaiting the result of the shot, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>had flung himself upon the little knot of -toughs who were locked in death-grip about -Ansel.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But even as he did so, a cry of warning -rang from a dozen parts of the big building:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The cops! Lights out! The cops!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The hastily-summoned cohort of blue-coated -reserves, pistols and nightsticks drawn, -charged down the centre aisle. And before -their onset the rabble melted like snow in -April.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The historic Grafton Opera House riot was -a thing of the past.</p> - -<p class='c009'>An hour later Clive Standish sat alone in -his hotel room. Ansel had just said good -night to him and left him to his own miserable -reflections.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Now that the excitement was over, he had -time to realize what a ghastly failure, from a -campaign standpoint, his Grafton meeting -had been. It was the climax of his long, unbroken -series of failures. He was beaten, -and he could no longer force himself to think -otherwise.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Heart and mind and pride were as sore as -the aching, bruised face and body from which -he had so recently washed the stains of battle.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At other towns he had scored nothing worse -than failure. Here at Grafton Conover had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>gained yet another point. The Railroader -had made the people look on his young opponent -as a cheap trickster. The very class -Clive was working to rescue from Boss misrule -would brand him as a charlatan.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Yes, he was beaten. How could a man hope -by clean methods to stand against such powers -as Caleb Conover possessed, and did not -scruple to use? The fight had been hard. And -now it was over. He had done his best. No -one could have done more. And he had failed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The reaction from the violent physical and -mental strain of the riot was upon Standish. -Hope, vitality, even self-trust were at their -very ebb.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A knock sounded at the door.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come in,” he called wearily, supposing -Ansel was coming back for something he had -left.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Thanks, I will,” replied Billy Shevlin, -sidling into the room and closing the door -behind him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive stared in blank astonishment at his -unexpected visitor. The latter grinned pleasantly -and sat himself down, unasked, in a -chair near the door, tucking his derby hat between -his feet.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good evening, Mr. Standish,” said Billy. -“Pleased to see you again. ‘Same here,’ -says you,” he added, after an embarrassed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>little pause which Clive made no move to -break.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What do you want?” asked the candidate -at last.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just a little gabfest with you. That’s -all. I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You come with a message from Mr. Conover?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not me. I ain’t seen the Boss this ten -days.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought you were his special henchman,” -said Clive, amused in spite of himself -by the heeler’s ingratiating manner, and -puzzled as to the cause of this midnight call.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The Boss’s <em>what</em>?” queried Billy.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“His ‘henchman,’ I said. Aren’t——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, I ain’t. I don’t know just what a -hench-person is, but <em>I</em> ain’t one. This ain’t -the first time I’ve been called that. Some -day when I get time I’m goin’ to look it up -in the dicshunary. An’ if it means what I -think it does, I’m going to lick——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I wouldn’t bother if I were you. But -you haven’t told me why you’re here.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well,” responded Shevlin, with an air of -casting all possible reserve to the winds, “I -wanted you to kind of get a line on what -you’re up against. Why not take your medicine -graceful and quit?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Is that any affair of yours?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>“Sure, it’s my affair. Do you s’pose I’m -settin’ here just to hand out ree-fined conversation -with you this time of night? You’ve -put me to a whole lot of bother lately, Mr. -Standish. I’ve had all I could do sometimes -to block the game ahead of you on this tour. -An’ then, to-night——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So it was you——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I done my best,” assented Shevlin modestly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hold on!” he continued, as Clive jumped -up. “Hold on, Mr. Standish! Don’t you get -wedded to the idee that ’twas me who kicked -up that row over the girl nor the scrap that -followed. That ain’t my line. The Boss’ll -skin me alive fer lettin’ you make such a pose -in the limelight as you did when you butted -in as the heero and copped off that rescue. All -<em>I</em> did was to organize the cheerin’ party, and -post that guy what to say when he was nabbed. -I’d ’a’ got away with it all without a break, -at that, only this Grafton gang ain’t got no -ree-finement. They has to go an’ make a toadpie -of the whole party.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive sat down again. He realized that the -little heeler, for his own interest, was telling -the truth in disclaiming all share in the riot’s -later stages. He was curious, too, to learn -what else Shevlin had to say.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>“So it was a Pyrrhic victory for you after -all, you think?” suggested Standish.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Pyrrhic?” mused Billy, thoughtfully. -“Must ’a’ run on some of the Western tracks. -No skate of that name ever won a vict’ry here -in the East. Someone’s been stringin’ you -about that, I guess, Mr. Standish.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Perhaps so. And you’ve come to suggest -that I withdraw? Why should I?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“’Cause you ain’t got the chance a snowball -has on the south slopes of Satanville. -Come! Drop out an’ let’s have no hard -feelin’. Conover’s got ten times your strength -everywhere. An’ the strong man’s always -the man that’ll win. You can dope that -out——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not always. There was David’s fight -with Goliath, for one, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“David who?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A little chap who won out against a man -double his size,” smiled Clive. “Goliath was -what you’d call a heavyweight.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“An’ what was David’s manager doin’, -puttin’ a bantam into the ring with a heavyweight? -He’d ’a’ had that David person -asleep in the first round. Say, Mr. Standish, -I seen to-night you’re a first-rate scrapper, -an’ you handle your hands fine for an amachoor. -But what you don’t know about prizefights -an’ racehorses’d fill a City Record. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>Someone’s sure been guying you good an’ -plenty.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, all that has nothing to do with -what you came here about. You’ve got something -on your mind. Speak out, can’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s just this,” replied Shevlin, edging -his chair nearer, and lowering his voice, -“you’re beat. An’ you’ve been to consid’ble -expense in the campaign, an’——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“An’ Mr. Conover’s set his heart on bein’ -Gov’nor by a good majority. An’ when he -sets his heart on a thing he’s willin’ to pay -well for it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So,” continued Billy, emboldened by -Clive’s calmness, “what’s the matter with -you an’ him fixin’ this thing up peaceable?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve got a blank check here. It was give -me for expenses. Shows how the Boss trusts -me, eh? Well, I’m willin’ to fill this out for -$5,000 if you say, an——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then Clive Standish picked up his caller -very gently by the nape of the neck, carried -him tenderly to the door, opened it and deposited -him in the hall outside.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Returning, he shut the door, crossed over -to his bath-room and washed his hands.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Beaten?” he murmured to himself, all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>his fatigue and discouragement forgotten. -“Not yet! When they find it worth while to -try to buy me off it shows they’re still afraid. -I’m in for another try at this uphill game. -But first of all I’ll see Caleb Conover face to -face and have it out with him. I wonder,” -he speculated less belligerently, “I wonder -if Anice will happen to be in when I go -there?”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VII<br /> <span class='large'>CALEB UNDERGOES A “HOME EVENING”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>“There’s no use glowering at <em>me</em> every -time you speak of poor Clive,” protested -Mrs. Conover with all the fierce courage of a -chased guinea-pig. “It isn’t <em>my</em> fault he’s -running against you, and it isn’t my fault -that he’s my nephew, either.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I guess both those failings would come -under the head of misfortunes, rather’n -faults,” retorted Caleb. “And they’re both -as hard on him as they are on you, Letty. I -wasn’t glowering at you, either. Don’t stir -up another spat.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The idea that Mr. Conover was capable of -inciting any such disputation so flattered that -poor, spiritless little creature that she actually -bridled and looked about her to make sure -Anice and Gerald, the only other members of -the household present, had heard.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The quartette were seated in the Conover -library, whither they had gathered after dinner -for one of those brief intervals of family -intercourse which Caleb secretly loved, his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>wife as secretly dreaded and Gerald openly -loathed. The Railroader, at heart, was an -intensely home-loving man. He had never -known a home. Least of all since moving -into the Mausoleum. He had always, in increasingly -blundering fashion, sought to make -one.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The wife he bullied, the son he hectored, -the daughter with whom he had forever quarrelled, -the secretary who met his friendliness -with unbroken reserve; all these he had tried -to enroll as assistants in his various homemaking -plans. The results had not been so -successful as to warrant description.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Finally, Conover had centred his former -efforts on one daily plan. He had read in the -advice column of the <cite>Star</cite> about the joys of -“pleasant evening hour in the bosom of one’s -family” and the directions therefor. The -idea appealed to him. He ordained accordingly -that after the unfashionably early evening -meal the household should congregate in -the library, and there for at least one hour -indulge in carefree confidential chat. This, -Caleb mentally argued, was a capital opening -wedge in the inculcation of the true home-spirit -which had been his lifelong dream.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The household obeyed the order, even as all -Conover’s orders—at home and abroad—were -obeyed. The session usually began in laborious -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>efforts at small talk. Then an unfortunate -remark of some sort from Mrs. -Conover, or an impertinence or sneer from -Gerald, and the storm would break. The -“pleasant evening hour” oftener than not -ended in a sea of weakly miserable tears from -Mrs. Conover, a cowed or <i><span lang="it" xml:lang="it">sotto voce</span></i> profane -exit on Gerald’s part, and in Caleb’s stamping -off to his study or else around to the Kerrigans’ -for a blissful, shirt-sleeved, old-time -political argument in front of the saloon’s -back-room stove.</p> - -<p class='c010'>On this present evening Caleb had just received -Shevlin’s report of the Standish tour. -He was full of the theme and strove to interest -his three hearers in it. In Anice he -found, as ever, an eager listener. But Gerald -yawned in very apparent boredom, while Mrs. -Conover shed a few delightfully easy, but irritating -tears at the account of the opera house -fight. Caleb had silently resented these moist -signs of interest, and his glare had called -forth an unusual protest from his weak little -spouse.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m sure,” she went on, nervously taking -advantage of the rare fit of courage that possessed -her, “I’m <em>quite</em> sure somebody else -must have put this Governorship idea into -poor Clive’s head. He’d never have thought -of such a rash thing by himself. I don’t believe -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>that at heart he really wants to be Governor -at all. He——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If he don’t,” remarked Conover, “I guess -that makes it unanimous. I wish that idiot -Shevlin hadn’t given him the chance to play -to the gallery, though, in a fist fight. It’ll -mean votes for him. Folks have a sort of -liking for a man who can scrap. By the way, -Jerry, if you go around to Headquarters to-night, -tell Bourke I want him to run to Matawan -for me to-morrow on that floater business. -He——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t believe they can spare Bourke at -Headquarters just now,” began Gerald, with -a faint show of interest. “You see——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If he was the sort of man they could spare, -he wouldn’t be the sort of man I’d want to -send on a ticklish job like this. Has Brayle -showed up at any of our rallies yet?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No. And I don’t believe he will. He’s -done with politics, Shevlin tells me. Got religion, -Billy says, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If Pete Brayle’s got religion, you can -gamble he’s got it in his wife’s name, like -every other asset of his. ‘Done with politics,’ -eh? Well, politics ain’t done with him. I’ll -see Shevlin about it in the morning.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought Mr. Brayle was an atheist,” -put in Letty. “It’s an awful thing to be. -How do you suppose he ever became one?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>“By thinking too hard with a mind that -was too small; same as most atheists do,” -suggested Caleb. “Say, Jerry,” he added, -“it won’t do you no harm to know I’m -rather tickled at the way you’ve took hold at -Headquarters this past week or so. You -won’t lose by it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She wrote me to,” answered Gerald, flushing. -“You owe it to <em>her</em>. Not to me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes. My——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ugh! I might ’a’ known it! Well, so -long as you do your work I don’t care where -the inspiration comes from. I ain’t too -finicky to hit a straight blow with a crooked -stick. Why’d she tell you to hustle?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She said she ‘hoped it would touch your -hard heart.’ Wait, and I’ll read you what -she——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, you won’t. My hardness of heart -isn’t a patch on my hardness of hearing when -it comes to listening to that sort of pink paper -drivel. I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now, father,” whined Mrs. Conover, persuasively, -“why be so hard on the poor boy? -Perhaps——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Perhaps he’s wheedled you into thinking -a yeller-haired high-kicker would make the -ideel daughter-in-law for the next Governor -of the Mountain State. But his golden eloquence -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>hasn’t caught <em>me</em> yet. So, as long as -there’s one sane member of the Conover -family——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Caleb, how can you treat your own -child——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes!” snorted Caleb, “my own children -have a right to expect a fine line of treatment -from me, haven’t they? Blanche and Jerry, -both. What is it Ibid says about ‘A serpent’s -tooth and a thankless——’”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That was Shakespeare,” contradicted -Mrs. Conover, with the tact that was her -chief charm. “And you’ve got it all wrong. -There’s no such person as——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I tell you it was Ibid,” growled Caleb, always -tender on the subject of his learning. -“It says so in the ‘Famous Quotation’ book. -Maybe you can look down on my education. -But I guess I can stand pat all right on the -things I <em>have</em> learned. And——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The butler entered with a card, which he -carried to Caleb. After one glance at the -pasteboard Caleb crushed it in his fingers and -threw it to the floor.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Turn her out!” he ordered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, who is it?” squeaked his wife in -high excitement.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s some woman for Jerry. Gaines -brought me the card by mis——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>“For me?” cried Gerald, jumping up, his -face aflame. “Why, it—it can’t——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, it can. And it is, or rather it <em>was</em>, -for I’ve sent her away. Maybe you forget I -made you promise——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Stand aside!” spake a dramatic contralto -voice from beyond the portières, “I -have a right here.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The curtains were thrust apart, revealing -the protesting, discomfited butler; and, pushing -past him, a tall, slender young woman, -quietly but prettily dressed, pompadoured of -hair, and very, <em>very</em> determined of aspect.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good Lord!” grunted Caleb under his -breath, “she ain’t even a blonde. I thought -they all——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But she was in the library itself, and facing -the amazed master of the house. Gerald, at -first sight of her, had sprung forward and -now grasped the newcomer ardently by both -hands and drew her to him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I was sure,” murmured the intruder in -that same throaty contralto, rich, yet insensibly -conveying a vague impression of latent -vulgarity, “I was <em>sure</em> your man was mistaken, -and that you couldn’t have meant to -turn me away without a word when I had -come so far to see my precious truant boy. -<em>Did</em> you? We women, Mrs. Conover,” she -went on, eyes and voice claiming alliance of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>the meek-faced little nonentity who shrank -behind Anice Lanier, “we women understand -how hard it is to keep away from the man who -has taught us to love him. <em>Don’t</em> we? Men -never can <em>quite</em> realize that. Not even my -Gerald, or he wouldn’t have stayed away so -long or made me stay away from him. <em>Would</em> -he?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It was Dad,” broke in Gerald. “I told -you that in my first letter, darling. He won’t -stand for our marriage, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ah! that is because he doesn’t know,” -she laughed archly. “Mr. Conover, this big -splendid boy of mine is too much in love to -explain as he should. And he’s so high-spirited, -he can’t listen as patiently to advice -as he ought to. <em>Can</em> you, Gerald? So I came -myself, when I couldn’t stand it any longer -to be away from him. I knew I could make -you understand. <em>Can’t</em> I?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I can tell better when you’ve tried,” answered -Caleb, watching with a sort of awed -fascination the alternate plunges and rearings -of the vibrant black pompadour, which, -in deference to the prevailing style of the -moment—and of the chorus—was pendent -directly above the visitor’s right eye.</p> - -<p class='c010'>His curt rejoinder rather took the caller -aback. She looked about the group as if for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>inspiration. Anice Lanier had risen, and was -at the door. Caleb saw her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Please don’t go, Miss Lanier!” he called.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I would much prefer to,” answered Anice, -“if you don’t object. This seems to be purely -a family affair and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And at least one person with a decently-balanced -brain ought to be present. Our affairs -are <em>your</em> affairs as far as you’ll allow. -Please do me the favor of staying.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The visitor had, by this diversion, regained -grasp on her plan of action.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mr. Conover,” she said, stretching out -her suède-gloved hands toward the Railroader -in a pretty gesture of helpless appeal as to an -all-powerful judge, “I am your son’s wife. -He loves me. I love him. Does that tell -you nothing?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” said Caleb judicially, “it tells me -you love each other; if that’s what you mean. -For the sake of argument we’ll take that for -granted, just for the present. Now get down -to facts.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I am your son’s wife,” repeated the -woman, somewhat less throatily, but still with -brave resolve. “He sought me out and -wooed me. He told me I should receive a -welcome in his home. He made me love him. -<em>Didn’t</em> you, Gerald? And I married him. -Ah, but we were happy, we two! Then, like -<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>a thunderbolt from the blue sky fell your -command that we part. He and I. For long—oh, -<em>so</em> long—I have tried to be patient, to -wait for time to soften your heart. But at -last I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t <em>bear</em> it, so -I came here to meet you in person, to cast -myself at your feet if need be. To——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>She paused. The cold, inscrutable gaze of -the Railroader’s light eyes did not tend to -inspire her very creditable recitation. As a -matter of fact, Caleb was at the moment paying -very little attention to her words. He -was noting the hard dryness of her skin and -the only half-hidden lines about mouth, brow -and eye; and contrasting them with Anice -Lanier’s baby-smooth skin and the soft contour -of her neck and cheek.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Had the stranger been saying anything of -import Caleb would have missed no syllable. -But, through long years of experience with -the dreary windiness and empty pothouse -eloquence of politicians, the Railroader had -learned by instinct, and without waiting to -catch so much as the first word, whether anything -worth hearing was being said, or if the -case were, as he was wont to express it, “an -attack of rush-of-words-to-the-mouth.” He -had already placed his present caller’s oration -in the latter category. But her pause -brought him back to himself.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>“Well?” he demanded.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So I am here to implore you to be just, -to be generous,” resumed the girl, slightly -raising the pitch of the scene as she approached -a climax. “I throw myself on -your mercy. I, Enid Conover——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Enid Conover!” snorted the Railroader. -“Why——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes. Enid Conover! How I have -learned to love that name!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Have, hey? Then take my advice, young -woman, and stifle that same wild adoration -for my poetic cognomen, for you aren’t going -to have the renting of it any longer’n I can -help.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, you’ll get over it easy! Just as you -got over your love for that high-sounding -title, Enid Montmorency. And just as, before -that, when you left your mother’s Germantown -boarding-house, you got over any -passion you may have had for your original -name, Emma Higgs. You see I know some -little about you. I took the trouble to have -you looked up. You and your family. You -told Gerald your family’s old. From all I -hear, I guess the main difference between you -and that same family is that one’s older’n -you make out and the other’s younger. Take -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>your choice as to which is which. And -now——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You insult me!” declaimed the girl, her -eyes flashing, her figure drawn to the full -height of a really excellent pose, her pompadour -nestling protectingly above the arched -brow.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, I don’t. I couldn’t. (Jerry, you sit -down there and behave yourself or I’ll spank -you!) If you think I’m wrong, maybe you’d -like me to tell my son the way you first happened -to go on the stage. No? I guess I’ve -got this thing framed up pretty near straight. -It’s a grand-stand play, and Papa is It, eh? A -masterstroke of surprise for the old man, and -a final tableau of the bunch of us clustering -about you and Gerald in the centre of the -stage, while you fall on each other’s necks and -do a unison exclamation of ‘God-bless-the-dear-old-Dad! -How-much-will-he-leave-us? -And-how-soon?’ You waited in town awhile. -But Papa didn’t relent and send Hubby back -to his lonely wifie. Then you sick Gerald on -to acting like a human being, hoping to win -Papa over by being a good boy. No go. Then -as a last play you butt in here on a sudden -with all your lines learned down pat, and do -a grand appeal. Well, Mrs.-Miss-Emma-Higgs-Enid-Montmorency-Conover, -it doesn’t -work. That’s all. If you’ve got the sense I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>think, you’ll see the show’s a frost, and you’ll -start back for Broadway. Take my blessing, -if you want it, and take Jerry along for good -measure, if you like. It’s all you’ll ever get -from me, either of you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>To Caleb Conover’s unbounded horror -and amaze, Enid, instead of spurning him -haughtily, burst into a crescendo, throaty -gurgle of contralto weeping, and flung herself -bodily upon him; her long-gloved arms -twining about his neck, her pompadoured -head snuggling into his bosom.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Father! <em>Father!</em>” came a muffled, -yet artistic wail from somewhere in the region -of his upper waistcoat buttons. “How <em>can</em> -you? You’ve broken Gerald’s heart. And -now you’re breaking mine. Forgive us!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Miss Lanier!” thundered Caleb, struggling -wildly to escape the snake-like closeness -of the embrace, “for heaven’s sake won’t you -come and—and unwind this person? She’s -spoiling my shirt-front. Lord, how I do hate -to be pawed!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do not touch me! Do not <em>dare</em> to, -menial!” commanded the bride, relinquishing -her hold, and glaring like a wounded tigress -at Anice, who had made no move whatever in -response to Caleb’s horrified plea. The visitor -drew back from Caleb as though contact with -him besmirched her.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>“<em>Well!</em>” she gasped, and now the throaty -contralto was merged into a guttural snarl, -ridiculously akin to an angry cat’s. “<em>Well!</em> -Of all the cheap tight-wads I ever struck! -Think you can backtrack <em>me</em>, do you? Well, -you <em>lose</em>! I’m married to him all right, and -<em>I’m</em> not giving him up in a hurry. You try -to butt in, and you’ll find yourself in a hundred -thousand alienation suit! Oh, I know -<em>my</em> rights, and no up-country Rube’s going -to skin me out of ’em. You old bunch of -grouchiness! And to think they let you boss -things in this jay town of yours! Why, in -New York you’d never get nearer Broadway -than Tenth Avenue, and you couldn’t even -boss a red light precinct. My Gawd! I’ll -have to keep it dark about my coming to a -hole like this or my friends’ll think I’ve been -playing a ten-twenty-thirt’ circuit. No civilized -person ever comes here, and now I know -why. They’re afraid they’ll be mistook for -a friend of yours, most likely. You redheaded -old geezer, you don’t even know a -lady when you see one. Keep your lantern-jawed, -pie-faced mutt of a son. I’m going -back to where there’s at least <em>one</em> perfect -gentleman who knows how to behave when a -lady honors him by——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Enid!” cried Gerald, who had sat in -dumb, nerveless confusion during the recent -<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>interchange of courtesies, “you don’t -mean—? You mustn’t go back to him! You -<em>mustn’t</em>! Has he met you again since I left? -Tell me! I said I’d kill him if he ever -spoke to you again, and, by God, I will! He -shan’t——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A timid, falsetto screech, like that of a very -young leveret that is inadvertently trodden -beneath a farmer’s foot in long grass, broke -in on the boy’s ravings. Mrs. Caleb Conover -collapsed on the floor in a dead faint.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Anice ran to the unconscious woman’s aid. -Even Gerald, checked midway in his mad appeal, -stopped and stared down in stupid wonder -at his mother’s little huddled figure.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb seized the moment to cross the room -quickly toward the furious chorus girl. He -caught her by the shoulder, and in his pale -eyes blazed a flare that few men and no woman -had ever seen there. The color, behind the -artistic paint on the visitor’s face, went white -at the look. She, who was accustomed to -brave the rages of drunken rounders, shrank -speechless, cowering before those light eyes. -One arm she raised awkwardly as if to avert -a blow. Yet Caleb’s touch on her shoulder -was gentle; and, when he spoke, his voice was -strangely dead and unemotional. So low was -it that his meaning rather than his exact -words reached the actress.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>“This is <em>my</em> city,” said he. “What I say -goes. There is a train to New York in thirty -minutes. If you are in Granite one minute -after it leaves, my police shall arrest you. -My witnesses shall make the charge something -that even <em>you</em> will hardly care to stand -for. My judge shall send you to prison for a -year. And every paper in New York shall -print the whole story as I choose to tell it. -Now go!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The fear of death and worse than death -was in her eyes. She slunk out, shrunken in -aspect to the form of an old and bent woman. -Not even—most beloved trick of stage folk!—did -she turn at the portières for a parting -look. The patter of her scared, running feet -sounded irregularly on the marble outer hall. -Then the front door slammed, and she was -gone.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The final scene between Conover and his -son’s wife had endured less than twenty seconds. -It was over, and she had departed -before Gerald realized what had happened. -Then, with a cry, he was on his feet and hurrying -to the door. But his father stood in -front of it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If you’re not cured now,” said Conover, -“you never will be. Go back and ring for -your mother’s maid.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The boy’s mouth was open for a wrathful -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>retort. But embers of the blaze that had -transformed Caleb’s face as he had dismissed -the chorus girl still flickered there. And -under their scorching heat Gerald Conover -slunk back, beaten but still muttering defiant -incoherences under his breath.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mrs. Conover, under Anice’s gentle ministration, -was coming to her senses. She opened -her eyes with a gasp of fear, then sat up and -looked apprehensively around.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She is gone, dear,” whispered Anice, -divining her meaning, “and Gerald didn’t -mean what he said. He was excited, that was -all. He’s all right again now. Shall I help -you upstairs?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But Mrs. Conover insisted on being assisted -to the nearby sofa, from which refuge -she feebly waved away her maid and vetoed -Anice’s further offices.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I am all right,” she pleaded under her -breath. “Let me stay here. Caleb hates -to have me give way to these heart attacks. -I’ll stay till he has gone to his study. -Then——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All right again, old lady?” asked Caleb, -walking across to the sofa. “Like me to -send for the doctor?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No. Yes, I’m quite well again now,” -stammered his wife. “Thank you for asking.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>It was not wholly indifference which had -kept Conover from the invalid’s side. So -great had been the unwonted fury that mastered -him, he had dared not speak to either -of the women until he was able to some extent -to curb it. His usually iron nerves were -still a-quiver, and his voice was unlike its -customary self.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Until further notice,” he announced -dryly, looking from one to the other, “these -‘pleasant home hours’ are suspended. By -request. They’re too exciting for a quiet -man like me. I hope you’ll all try to smother -any disappointment you feel. And now,” -turning to the butler, who had come in answer -to his ring, “I’ll see if I can’t get the -taste of this farewell performance of the -pleasant hour series out of my mouth before -I start my evening’s work. Gaines, order -Dunderberg brought around in ten minutes.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Where are you going?” asked Mrs. Conover, -who had imperfectly caught the order.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“To get into my riding clothes,” answered -her husband from the doorway.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But you spoke about Dunderberg. You’re -surely not going to ride Dunderberg when I’m -so shaken up. I shall worry so——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why? <em>You</em> ain’t riding him.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But why not ride Sultan? He’s so gentle -and quiet and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>“Letty! do I look as if I was on a still -hunt for something gentle and quiet? I want -something that’ll give me a fight. Something -that’ll tire me out and take my mind off black, -floppy pompadours and stocking-leg gloves! -Jerry, you come along with me. I want a -talk with you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, if only that dreadful horse would -die!” sighed Mrs. Conover. “I never have -an instant’s peace while you’re riding him.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Rot!” growled Caleb, grinning reassurance -at the pathetic little figure on the sofa. -“There never yet was a horse I couldn’t -manage or that could harm <em>me</em>. Come along, -Jerry.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He stamped upstairs to his dressing-room -followed by the reluctant, still muttering -Gerald.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This was by no means the first time Mrs. -Conover had plucked up courage to entreat -her lord not to ride his favorite horse, Dunderberg, -the most vicious, tricky brute in all -that horse-breeding State. And never yet -had the Railroader deigned to heed her request. -In fact, such opposition rather pleased -him than otherwise, inasmuch as it enhanced, -to all listeners, his own equestrian prowess.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb Conover was a notoriously bad rider. -Horsemanship must be learned before the -age of twenty or never at all. And Conover -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>was well past forty before he threw leg over -saddle. But he loved the exercise, and took -special joy in buying and mastering the most -unmanageable horses he could find.</p> - -<p class='c010'>How so wretched a horseman could avert -bad falls or even death was a mystery to all -who knew him. It was seemingly by his own -sheer will power and brutal strength of mind -and body that he remained triumphant over -the worst horse; was never thrown nor failed -to conquer his mount.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was one of the sights of Granite to see -Caleb Conover careering down the main avenue -of the residence district, backing some -foaming, plunging hunter, whose wildest efforts -could never shake that stiff, indomitable -figure from its seat. With walloping -elbows and jerking shoulders, the Railroader -was wont to thunder his way at top speed -up and down suburban byways; inciting his -horse to its worst tricks, tempting it to buck, -kick, wheel or rear. And when the maddened -brute at length indulged in any or all -of these manœuvres, a joy of battle would -light the rider’s face as, with unbreakable -knee-grip and a self-possession that never -deserted him, he flogged the steed into subjection.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In telling Letty that there was no horse he -could not safely manage and control Conover -<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>had but repeated an oft-made boast—a boast -whose truth he had a score of times proven. -He was not a constant equestrian. He never -rode for the mere pleasure of it. In ordinary -moments he cared little for such recreation. -But when he was angered, or perplexed, or -desired to freshen jaded nerves or brain, his -first order was for his newest, worst-tempered -horse.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As he rode so semi-occasionally, and as the -horse he selected was usually one which even -his pluckiest grooms feared to exercise, the -brute in question was fairly certain to be in -a state of rampant, rank “freshness,” and -to require the best work of two men to lead -him from the stables to the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">porte-cochère</span></i>. -As few steeds could long withstand such -training as Conover inflicted, he was forever -changing mounts. The horse of the hour -would wax so tame and docile as to preclude -further excitement, or would break a blood-vessel -or go dead lame in one of the fierce -conflicts with its master. Then a new mount -must be sought out.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was barely a month earlier that Caleb -had discovered Dunderberg, and had bought -the great black stallion at an outrageously -high price. And thus far the purchase still -delighted him, for Dunderberg not only -showed no signs of cringing to the master’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>fiery will, but daily grew fiercer and more -unmanageable.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So, while Mrs. Conover trembled, wept and -alternately prayed and watched the length -of driveway beyond her window, the Railroader -was wont to dash at breakneck speed -along the farther country roads, atop his -huge black horse, checking the mad pace only -for occasional battles-royal with the ever-fractious -beast.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To-night, coming atop the previous excitement -of the “pleasant home hour,” the strain -on Letty was too great. Clinging convulsively -to Anice, the poor woman wept with a hysterical -abandon that almost frightened the girl. -Tenderly, lovingly as a mother the girl soothed -the trembling old lady; comforting her as only -a woman of great heart and small hand can; -quieting at length the shuddering hysterics -into half-stifled sobs.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Had Caleb Conover (upstairs wrestling -with an overtight riding boot) chanced upon -the group, he would have been sore puzzled -to recognize in this all-tender, pitying maiden -the coldly reserved secretary on whose unruffled -composure and steady nerve he had -so utterly come to rely.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, it’s horrible—<em>horrible</em>!” panted Mrs. -Conover, finding voice as the sobs subsided.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>“Yes, yes, I know,” soothed Anice. “But -it——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You <em>don’t</em> know. You can’t know. It -isn’t only the horse. It’s everything! I sometimes -wonder how I stand it. Each time it -seems as if——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t! Don’t, dear! You’re overwrought -and tired. Let me take you upstairs -and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No. It does me good. There’s never been -anyone I could talk to. And sometimes I’ve -felt I’d give all this abominable money and -everything just for one hour’s friendship with -anyone who really cared.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But <em>I</em> care. Really, <em>really</em> I do. Let me -help you, won’t you, please? I want so much -to.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Help’ me?” echoed the weeping woman, -with as near an approach to bitterness as her -crushed spirit could muster. “<em>Help</em> me? -How can anyone help one of Caleb Conover’s -slaves? And I am the only one of them all -who has no hope of escape. The others can -leave him and find work somewhere else. -Even the horses he loves to fight have the -satisfaction of fighting back. But I haven’t -courage enough to do either of those things. -What <em>can</em> I do?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was the first time in their three years -of daily intercourse that Anice Lanier had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>seen or so much as suspected the existence -of this feeble spark of resentment in the older -woman’s cowed soul. It dumbfounded her, -and left her for the time without power of -consoling.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do you know, Miss Lanier,” went on -Letty, “at one time I hated you? Yes”—as -she noted the pained surprise in the girl’s -big, tear-swimming eyes—“actually hated -you. You were all I was not. You were not -afraid of him. He deferred to you. He never -deferred to me, or to anyone else but you since -he was born. He never cared for me. And -he did care for you. If I were to die——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mrs. Conover!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Anice had shaken off Mrs. Conover’s clinging -hands, and was on her feet, her eyes dry, -her cheeks blazing.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t be angry with me! <em>Don’t!</em>” whimpered -the invalid. “I didn’t mean any harm. -You said you wanted to help me. And oh, if -you only knew what a help it is to be able to -speak out for once in my life without fear of -that terrible will power of Caleb’s choking -me silent! I don’t hate you now. I didn’t as -soon as I saw you cared nothing for him. For -you don’t. I see more than people think. -And—I suppose it’s wicked of me to even -think such things—but when I die it will be -good to know Caleb will for once be balked -<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>in his wishes; for you’ll never marry him. I -know that.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I can’t listen to you!” exclaimed Anice. -“You are not yourself or you wouldn’t talk -so. Please——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“May I come in?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Both women, with the wondrous art which -their sex alone can master, had dropped into -conventional attitudes with their backs to -the light by the time the intruder’s first -word was spoken. As Clive Standish passed -through the portières into the library, he -saw only that its two occupants were seated, -one reading, the other crocheting, in polite -boredom, each evidently quite willing that -their prolonged session of dreary small talk -should be interrupted.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good evening, Aunt Letty,” said Clive, -as he stooped over the excited woman and -kissed her. “I called to see Mr. Conover on a -matter of some importance. The footman -was not sure whether he could—or would—see -me or not. So, while I was waiting for -him to find out, I thought I heard your voice -in here and ventured in. Good evening, Miss -Lanier. You’ll pardon my left hand?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The right he held behind him, yet in one of -the mirrors Anice could see the knuckles were -swathed in plaster. The hand he offered, too, -was bruised, cut and discolored.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>“I—I had a slight accident,” he said hastily, -noting her glance. “Nothing of importance. -I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mr. Conover has told us of it,” answered -Anice. “It was splendid of you, Clive! You -risked your life to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“To get out of a fight that my own folly -had brought on. That was all. I’m afraid -my tour wasn’t exactly a success. In fact, I -fear it will go down in Mountain State annals -as the colossal failure of the century. So -I’m back.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’ve given up?” she asked in quick -interest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why? Do you want me to?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Her monosyllable told little. Her eyes, -which he alone could see, told more. Clive -was satisfied.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I have not given up,” he said simply, -“and I am not going to.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, but, Clive,” put in his aunt, finding -her voice at last after the shock of seeing -Standish walk thus boldly into the lion’s den. -“You’d really better give up the whole silly -business. I’m sure Mr. Conover would be so -pleased.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t doubt it,” replied Standish, smiling -grimly at Anice over the old lady’s bobbing -head, “but I’m afraid it is a pleasure -<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>that’s at least deferred. The kind that Solomon -tells us ‘maketh the heart sick.’ I’m still -in the race. Very much in it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But then, why—why have you come here, -Clive?” urged Letty nervously. “Mr. Conover -and you are such bad friends. I’m sure -there’ll be an awful scene, just as there was -that time four years ago. And I do so hate -scenes. After this evening’s——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m afraid there may be a ‘scene,’ as -you call it,” admitted Clive, “but it won’t -be at all on the order of the one four years -ago. And I hope it won’t be in your presence -either, Aunt.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Again his eyes met Anice Lanier’s. She -nodded ever so slightly, and he knew that -when the time should come he could trust her -to remove the timid woman from the danger -zone.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why do you want to see Mr. Conover?” -asked Anice, “or is that an impertinent——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not in the least. I want to come to -an understanding with him. Affairs have -reached a point where that is necessary.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“An understanding?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes. As long as he contented himself -with ordering his followers to lampoon and -vilify myself and the League I made no complaint. -It was dirty, but I suppose it was -politics. But when he muzzles the press, orders -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>the police and the mayor of the cities -to refuse me fair play, and sets thugs to attack -me and illegally steals the State conventions, -it’s time to have it out with him face to -face. That is why I am here, and why I -shan’t leave until I have seen him. I hadn’t -meant to say all this to you,” he added, -ashamed of his own heat, “but——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, I’m <em>certain</em> Mr. Conover won’t like -it!” moaned his aunt. “I’m quite certain he -won’t. Now, if you’d only speak tactfully -and pleasantly to him——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well,” came the Railroader’s strident -tones from the hall outside, “where is he, -then?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The portières were swished aside with a -jerk that set the curtain rings to jingling, -and Caleb Conover, in riding dress, hatted, -spurred and slashing his crop against one -booted leg, filled the narrow doorway.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mrs. Conover gave a little gasp of fear. -Anice Lanier let fall over her bright face the -mask of quiet reserve it always wore in her -employer’s presence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive rose and took a step toward his unwelcoming -host.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And so, for ten seconds, the rival candidates -faced each other in silence—a silence -heavy with promise of storm.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VIII<br /> <span class='large'>CALEB CONOVER LISTENS AND ANSWERS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>“Well,” began Conover, breaking the -short pause, “what do <em>you</em> want?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I want to speak to you—alone,” answered -Standish.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come up to my study. Gaines, tell the -groom to keep Dunderberg moving. I’ll be -down in ten minutes.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>In silence the Railroader led the way upstairs. -He passed into the study, leaving -Clive to follow. Nor, as he seated himself in -his big desk chair, did he request his visitor -to sit down. Ignoring these slights, Clive -took up his stand on the opposite side of the -desk.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now, then,” said Caleb, “get through -your business as quick as you can. What do -you want?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“To speak to you in reference to this campaign.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Had enough, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Altogether too much of the sort you’ve -inflicted on me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>“Good! You’ve got more sense than I -thought. There’s two kinds of fools: the -kind that put their heads in a hornet’s nest -once and then have sense enough to admit -they’ve been stung, and the kind that keeps -their heads there because they’re too daffy -to see the exit-signs or too pig-headed to confess -that hornet-stings ain’t the most diverting -form of massage. I’m glad to see you belong -to the first class. I’d placed you in the -second.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But you want to get out of this p’ticular -hornet’s nest, I s’pose, without giving too -life-like an imitation of a man shinning down -from a tree, eh? Well, I guess that can be -fixed. Sit down. We’ll——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re mistaken!” broke in Standish, resenting -the more civil tone of his host as he -had not resented his former rudeness, “I’m -in this fight to stay. I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Want your cash losses made good! If -you——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mr. Conover,” said Clive calmly, though -the knuckles that gripped the table-edge were -white with pressure, “when your lackey, -Shevlin, made that same proposition to me, -he thought he was making a perfectly straight -offer. And, judging by the standards you’ve -taught him, I suppose the suggestion was almost -<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>holy compared with the majority of his -tactics. So I didn’t thrash him. He knew no -better; for the same reason I don’t thrash -<em>you</em>.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That and maybe a few others,” laughed -Conover, in no wise offended. “I climbed -up from yard-boy to railroad president by -frequently jamming my fists in where they’d -do the most good. I guess you’d have a faint -s’spicion you’d been in a fight before you was -through. But I presume you didn’t come here -to-night to give an encore performance of -your grand-stand play at Grafton. It seems -I started on the wrong idea just now. You -don’t want to drop out gracefully or to sell -out, and you prefer the soothing attentions of -the hornets to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, if you put it that way, Mr. Conover——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hold on a second.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Railroader crossed to a screen at the -farther end of the room. Thrusting it aside -he said to a stenographer who sat behind it, -pencil and pad in hand:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We won’t need you any longer. This -ain’t going to be that kind of interview after -all. You can go now. Just a little precaution -of mine,” he added to Clive as he returned -to the table. “Now you can go on -talking.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>“You were setting a spy to take down what -I said!” gasped Clive, incredulous.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No. A stenographer to report our little -chat. We were a bit short on campaign litterchoor. -But I see it won’t be needed now. -Go ahead.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve just returned from a tour of the -State,” commenced Standish, once more forcing -himself to keep down his temper.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Conover drew a typewritten bundle from a -drawer.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If you were counting on telling me all -about it,” he observed, “I can save you the -trouble. Here’s the whole account.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Does your ‘account’ include the recital -of a mob incited to smash furniture, insult -women and attempt murder? Or of suborned -town officials, bought policemen and -muzzled editors? If not, it is incomplete. I -went on that tour prepared to meet all legitimate -obstacles. I met only fraud, violence -and the creatures of boss-bought conspiracy. -It is to call you to account for that and to ask -how far it was done by your personal sanction -that I have come to see you. Also to ask if -you intend to give me fair play in future.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Fair play?” echoed Conover in genuine -bewilderment. “Son, this is politics, not -ping pong.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>“Everyone in God’s world is entitled to -fair play. And I’m here to demand it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘God’s’ world, eh? My friend, when -you’ve travelled about it as long as I have, -you’ll find out that the original owner sublet -the premises long ago.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It looks so, in the Mountain State, I -agree. But I’m trying to act as local dispossess -agent for the present tenant. All men -are born equal, and some of us are tired of -being owned by a political boss. We——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re a terribly original feller, Standish! -That remark, now, about all men being -‘born equal.’ It was made in the first place, -wasn’t it, by a white-wigged, short-panted -hero who owned more slaves than he could -count? ‘Born equal!’ Maybe all men are. -But by the time they’re out of swaddling-clothes -they’ve got bravely over it. That old -Jefferson proverb’s responsible for more anarchy -and scraps, and strikes and grumbling -and hard-luck stories, than all the whole -measly dictionary put together. Get down to -business, man. This ain’t a p’litical rally. -Cut out the fine talk, can’t you? My horse is -waiting.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve told you already what I wish. I -want to know if you will fight like a man -for the rest of the campaign, and if the outrages -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>I encountered on my tour were by your -order?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That won’t take an awful lot of eloquence -to answer. What was done to you up-State -was planned out by me, and it isn’t deuce-high -to what’ll drop on you if you’re still -alive when the State Convention——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You cur!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Meaning <em>me</em>?” queried Caleb blandly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You cur!” repeated Clive, his last remaining -shreds of temper thrown to the -winds. “I was told I’d meet this sort of reception, -but I couldn’t believe there was a -man alive who had the crass effrontery to -confess he was a wholesale crook, and that he -was going to continue one. You’ve sapped -the integrity, the honesty, the freedom of this -city and State. You’ve made us a byword -for every community in America. You’ve -trailed your iniquitous railroad across the -State, crushing every smaller and more honest -line, until you are czar of all our traffic. -You rob the people by sending to Legislature -your own henchmen, who help you steal franchises, -and who cut down your taxes and -throw the burden of assessment on the very -class of people you have already defrauded -to the top of your bent. Corruption of the -foulest sort has been smeared by you all over -the face of this commonwealth, till the people -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>are stricken helpless and speechless under it. -Who can help them? Are there ten lawyers -in this State who don’t wear your collar, and -whose annual passes from your road aren’t -granted them on the written understanding -that such courtesies are really ‘retainers’? -Then, when I try to help the people you have -ground to the dirt—when I try to wipe the -filthy stain from the Mountain State’s shield—even -then you will not fight me fair, as man -to man. You stab in the back, like any other -common felon, and you feel so secure in your -own stolen position, that you actually boast -of it, and propose to continue your damnable -knifing tactics. Why, Caleb Conover, you -don’t even know how vile a <em>thing</em> you are!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He paused, breathless, still furious. The -Railroader was leaning back in his big chair -eyeing the angry man with genuine amusement.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’ve got the hang of it!” murmured -Caleb, half to himself. “The regular reformer -shout. I wouldn’t have thought it of -you. Honestly, son, it’s hard to take you reformers -serious. You’re all so dead sure -you’re saying what’s never been said before, -and that you’re discovering what no one else -ever dreamed of. If only I could buy one of -you Civic Leaguers at my own estimate of -you, and sell you at your estimate of yourself, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>it’d be the biggest deal I ever made. -Now don’t get red and try to think up new -platitudes to beller at me. I’ve listened -pretty patient, but I think it’s my turn to -do a little shouting, too. I’ve heard you out. -Now, maybe it’ll do you no harm to make the -same return-play to me. Sit down. You -came here to reach an understanding, and -get a line on my course, eh? Well, you’ve -got a big load of fine words out of your system -in the last few minutes. I’ll answer -you as best I can, and then maybe in future -us two’ll understand each other the better.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>In spite of himself, Clive Standish listened. -This thickset, powerful man, whose blazing -temper was proverbial, had attended the -young candidate’s rather turgid arraignment -with every evidence of good-natured interest. -He had endured insulting epithet with almost -the air of one who hearkens to a compliment. -And, in answering, he had spoken so moderately, -so at variance with his usual mode of -address, that Standish was utterly puzzled, -and was half-ashamed of his own vehemence. -What one of the Boss’s myriad moods was -this, and what end had he in view? Clive -checked his own impulse to depart. After all, -there was something of justice in what Conover -had said about the courtesy due a man -who had listened to such a tirade as his.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>Standish remained standing at the table, -looking across with unwilling inquiry at his -host, who lounged at ease in his chair, watching -the younger man with a grim smile, -as though reading his every thought. Their -relative positions were ludicrously akin to -those of judge and prisoner. And the compelling -force that lay behind the amusement -in Caleb’s light eyes strengthened the resemblance.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“In the first place,” said the Railroader, -“I think you called me a ‘cur.’ Twice, I believe, -you said that. You most likely thought -I’d get mad. A cur <em>does</em> get mad when he’s -called bad names. But a grown man’s too -busy to kick the puppy that yelps at his heels. -A man of sense keeps his mouth shut, unless -he’s got something to say. If a cur hasn’t -anything else to yelp at, he goes out and -picks a scrap with the moon, or at something -else that’s too big or too high up to bother -to hit back when he barks at it. Me, for instance. -So we’ll let it go at that, and we won’t -bother to get up a puzzle picture of us both -and label it ‘Find the cur.’ Have a cigar? -No? They aren’t campaign smokes. You -needn’t ’a’ been afraid of ’em.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He lighted a gaudily-banded perfecto, -puffed it a minute, and went on:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t know why I’m going to waste -<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>time talking to you. I’ve never took the -trouble, before, to defend myself or to try to -make other folks see my view of the case. -But you’re a well-meaning chap, for all -you’re such an ass. And maybe something’s -due you after the luck I put you up against -on that tour of yours. So I’m just going to -squander some words on you. And after that -I’ll ask you to trot off home, for I’ve some -riding to do.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He shifted his cigar to an angle of his -mouth and resumed:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“In the first place, you give me the usual -rank old talk about the way I treat the people -of the Mountain State. Why do I boss -this City and the State? Because the people -want me to. Why do I run things to suit myself -in my railroads and my legislature? Because -the people want me to. Now you’re -getting ready to say that’s a lie. It isn’t. -Why don’t I grab the food off some man’s -dinner table? Because he <em>don’t</em> want me to. -He’d yell for the police or pull a gun on me -if I tried it. Why do I saddle that same man -with any taxes I choose? Why do I elect my -own crowd to office and work franchises and -everything else just as I like? Because he -<em>does</em> want me to. If he didn’t he wouldn’t -let me. He could stop me from stealing his -dinner. And he would. He could stop me -<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>from grabbing his State. And he doesn’t. -Do you s’pose for a second that I, or Tom -Platt, or Richard Croker, or Charley Murphy, -or Matt Quay or any other boss who ever -lived, could have made ten people in the whole -world do what those people didn’t want to? -You knew well enough they couldn’t. Then, -why did Platt and Quay and the rest boss the -Machine? Why do <em>I</em> boss the Machine? Because -the people <em>want</em> to be bossed. Because -they’d rather be led than to lead themselves. -Can you find a flaw in that? Facts is facts, -and history is history. Bosses is bosses, and -the people are sheep. Is a shepherd in the -herding business for his health and to amuse -and el’vate the sheep? Not he. He’s in the -game for the money he can get out of shearing -and occasional butchering. So am I. My -own pocket first, last and always. If it wasn’t -me it’d be another shepherd. And maybe one -that’d make the sheep sweat worse’n I do.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive’s lips parted in protest, but Caleb -waved him to silence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You were going to say some wise thing -about the people’s inviolate rights, eh? -We’ve all got ‘inviolate rights.’ But if we -leave ’em laying around loose and don’t stand -up for ’em, we can’t expect much pity when -someone else cops ’em away from us. If I -try to turn you out of your house, you’ve got -<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>a right to prevent me. And you would. If -you sat by and let me do it, you’d deserve -what you got. If I try to turn the people out -of their rights in the Legislature and they -stand for it, who’s got a kick coming? Once -in a blue moon some man whose brains have -all run to lungs—nothing personal—gets up -and shouts to the people that they’re being -conned. Sometimes—not <em>this</em> time, mind you—they -believe it, and they throw over the -Machine and elect a bunch of wall-eyed reformers -that know as much about practical -politics as a corn-fed dodo bird knows about -theology. What happens? The city and the -State are run in a way that’d make a schoolboy -cry. At the end of one single administration -there’s a record of incompetence and -messed-up official affairs that takes a century -to straighten out. The police have been -made so pure they won’t let ice and milk be -sold for sick babies on Sundays, but they -haven’t time to keep folks from being sandbagged -in open daylight. The Building Department -Commissioners are so incorruptible -they don’t know a brick from a lump of putty. -And the contractors eat up chunks of overpay -for rotten work. And so in every branch of -government. The people get wise to all this, -and they decide it’s better to be bled by professionals -and to get at least part of their -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>money’s worth in decent service than it is to -be bled just as heavy by a pack of measly amachoors -and get no service at all. So back they -come to the Boss, begging him to get on the -job again. Which he does, being a self-sacrificing -sort of a cuss, and glad to help the -‘plain pe-ople.’ Likewise himself.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The administration you describe is the result -of fanaticism, not real reform. It——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“From where I sit, the difference between -the two ain’t so great as to show to the undressed -eye. You speak of lawyers and country -editors being bought by my passes. Is -there any law making ’em accept those passes -if they don’t want ’em? Could I buy ONE of -those men if he wasn’t for sale? There’s just -one thing more, and then your little lesson’ll -be over and you can run home. All through -this delightful little ree-union you’ve kind of -took the ‘holier-than-thou’ tone that’s such -a pleasing trait of you reformers when you’re -dealing with mere sane folks. Now, the best -thing you can do is to take that fool idea out -for a walk and lose it, for you not only ain’t -any better than me, but ain’t half the man, -and never <em>will</em> be half the man I am. You -were born with a gold spoon in your mouth. -The spoon was pulled out after you grew up, -but not till you had your education and your -profession. What did you do? You’d had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>the best advantages money could buy you. -And for all that, the most you could rise to -was a measly every-day law practice. That’s -all the dividends the tens of thousands of -dollars invested in your future were ever able -to declare, or ever <em>will</em> be able to. <em>I</em> started -life dead broke. No education, no pull, no -cash, no prospects. I don’t know just how -rich I am to-day, but no one’s going to call -you a liar if you put it at forty millions. -And I’m bossing bigger territory—and bossing -with more power—than half the so-called -high and mighty kings of Yurrup. Now, -s’pose <em>you’d</em> started where I did? Where’d -you be to-day? You’d be the ‘honest young -brakeman on the branch road,’ or at best -you’d be ‘our genial and rising young feller-townsman,’ -the second deputy assistant passenger -agent of the C. G. & X. That’s where -<em>you’d</em> be. And you know it. Had you the -brains or the sand to get where I am? Not -you. Any more than one of those patent -leather ’ristocrats in France had the genius -to win out the Napoleon job. You’re where -you started. I’ve kept on rising. And I’ll -rise to the White House before I’m done. -Now I ask you, fair and square, which of us -two is the best man, and if you oughtn’t to be -looking up to Caleb Conover instead of——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I am the better man,” answered Clive -<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>quietly. “And so is any honest man. And I -can look down on you for the same reason any -square American can look down on a political -Boss. Because we are honest and you are -not.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well,” vouchsafed Caleb, grudgingly, -“that’s an answer anyhow, and it comes -nearer being sense than anything you’ve said -so far. But you’re wrong for all that. You -talk about honesty. What’s honesty? The -pious Pilgrim Fathers came here and swindled -old Lo, the poor Indian, out of his country -in a blamed sight more raw fashion than -I’ve ever bamboozled the people of the Mountain -State. And the Mountain Staters were -willing, while the Indian wasn’t. Yet the old -settlers are called ‘nation builders’ and -‘martyrs,’ and a lot of other hot-air titles, -and they get statues put up to their memories. -How about the Uncle Sam’s buying a whole -nation of Filipinos and coolly telling ’em: -‘<em>I’m</em> bossing your islands now. Listen to me -while I soften your rebellious hearts with the -blessed gospel of the gatling gun.’ Yet Uncle -Sam’s all right. So’s John Bull, who done -the same trick, only worse, in India and -Egypt. No one’s going to call America or -England or the Pilgrim Fathers dishonest -and crooks, is there? Then why do you call -Caleb Conover dishonest for doing the same -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>thing, only a lot more squarely and mercifully? -The crook of to-day is the hero of to-morrow. -And I’m no crook at that. Why, -Son, a hundred years from now there’s liable -to be a statue stuck up somewhere of ‘Caleb -Conover, Railroader, Champion of the People.’ -Honesty, eh? What <em>you</em> call ‘honesty’ -is just a sort of weak-kneed virtue -meaning lack of chance to be something else. -‘Honester than me’ means ‘less chance than -me.’ The honestest community on earth, according -to you reformers’ way of thinking, is -in the State Penitentiary. For not a crime -of any sort’s committed there from one year’s -end to the other.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Conover chuckled softly to himself, then -continued:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And there’s something else about me that -ought to make ’em sculp a halo onto that same -statue. What I’ve done to build up my pile -I’ve done open and with all the cards on the -table. I have called a spade a spade, and I -haven’t referred to it, vague-like, as an ‘industr’l -utensil.’ I haven’t took the Lord in -as a silent partner on my deals. What I’ve -took I’ve took, and I’ve said, ‘Whatcher -going to do about it?’ I’ve won out by -strength, and I ain’t ashamed of my way of -playing the game. I haven’t talked through -my nose about being one of the noble class -<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>picked out by Providence to watch over the -wealth that poor folks’d have had the good -of if I hadn’t grabbed it from ’em. And I -haven’t tried to square myself On High by -endowing colleges and heathens and libraries -and churches. I guess a sinner’s hush-money -don’t make so much of a hit with the Almighty -as these philanthropist geezers seem -to think it will. What I’ve given I’ve given -on the quiet and where it’d keep folks from -the poorhouse. When it comes to the final -show-down on Judgment Day, I’ve a sneaking -notion the out-and-out pirate—<em>me</em>, if you -like—will win out by about seven lengths -over the holy hypocrite. That’s another reason -why I tell you you’re wrong when you -say I ain’t honest. I don’t hope to convince -you by any of the words I’ve been wasting. -If you were the sort of man reason could -reach you wouldn’t be a reformer. I’ve -squandered enough time on you for one evening. -Save all the pat replies that I can see -you’re bursting with, and spring ’em at your -next meeting. I’ve no time to listen to ’em -now. Good night.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Unceremoniously as he had entered the -room he quitted it, leaving Standish to go as -he would.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I talked more’n I have since that fool -speech of mine at the reception,” muttered -<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>the Railroader as he clattered down the broad -staircase. “But I steered him off from the -chance to say what he really wanted to, and -I dodged any scene that would be of use to -him in his campaign. Too bad he’s a Reformer! -He’s got red blood in him, the young -idiot. Yes, and he’s not such an idiot either -if it comes to that.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive Standish, descending the stairs a moment -later, puzzled, disappointed, vaguely -aware that he had somehow been tricked, -heard the shout of a groom and the thundering -beat of Dunderberg’s flying hoofs along -the gravel of the drive.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If he was as much master of the situation, -and as content with himself as he tried to -make me think,” reflected Clive as he passed -out into the darkness, “he’d never ride like -that.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Standish went to the League’s headquarters, -where for two hours he busied himself -with routine affairs, and tried to shut out -memory of the deep, taunting voice and masterful, -amused eyes that had held him captive, -and had turned him from the real purpose -of his visit. And in time the light, -sneering eyes deepened into liquid brown, and -the sonorous voice into Anice Lanier’s. For -whatever theme might form any particular -verse of the day’s song for Clive, he noticed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>of late that Anice was certain to be the ever-recurrent -refrain.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Wearied with his evening’s work, Standish -returned late to his own rooms. His man -said, as he helped the candidate off with his -light covert coat:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A messenger boy brought a letter for you, -sir, about an hour ago. He said there was no -answer. I left it on your desk.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive picked up the typewritten envelope -listlessly and tore it open. It contained a -note, also typewritten, and a thicker enclosure. -He read:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>Anonymous letters carry a stigma. Perhaps -that is why you did not profit by my last -one. I have good reasons for not signing my -name. And you have good reason to know by -now that what I write is the truth. Be wiser -this time. I enclose a list of the County -Chairmen who have sold out to Conover, the -name of the Chairman to be chosen for next -week’s State Convention, and a rough draft of -the plan to be used for your defeat. Next to -each detail you will find my suggestion for -blocking it. You owe it to yourself and to the -people to take advantage of what I send you.</em>”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He’s right, whoever he is!” exclaimed -Clive, half-aloud. “It’s the only way I can -fight Conover on equal terms. There’s no -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>sense in my standing on a foolish scruple when -so much hangs on the result of the Convention.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He snatched up the enclosure which had -slipped to the floor. Irresolute he held it for -almost a minute, his firm lips twitching, his -eyes cloudy with perplexity. Then, with a sigh -of self-contempt he slipped note and enclosure -in a long envelope, addressed it and rang for -his man.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“See that this is delivered to-night,” he -ordered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The valet, as he left the room, glanced surreptitiously -at the envelope’s address. To his -infinite bewilderment he saw the superscription:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>Caleb Conover, Esq., 167 Pompton Avenue. -Personal.</em>”</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was a terrible half hour in the Mausoleum -that night.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IX<br /> <span class='large'>A CONVENTION AND A REVELATION</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The day of the State Convention!</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Convention Hall at Granite was a big -barn-like building, frequently used for church -and school entertainments, and occasionally -giving a temporary home to some struggling -theatrical company. For the holding of the -convention which was to name the Governor -of the Mountain State a feeble attempt at -decorating the vast interior had been made -by Conover’s State chairman.</p> - -<p class='c010'>On the front of the dingy little stage were -a table and chairs for the officers, and a series -of desks for the reporters of the local and -New York newspapers. Across the back -hung a ragged drop curtain showing a garden -scene in poisonous greens and inflammatory -reds. Stuck askew on the proscenium -arch were crudely-drawn portraits of Jefferson -and Andrew Jackson. Between these -alleged likenesses of Democracy’s sponsors, -Billy Shevlin had, by inspiration and acclaim, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>caused a huge crayon picture of Caleb -Conover himself to be hung.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This monstrous trio of ill-assorted portrait -parodies were the first thing that struck the -eye as one entered the main door at the front -end of the hall. On seeing them, grim old -Karl Ansel had cast about him until he located -Shevlin and a group of the Railroader’s -other lieutenants.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Say, Billy,” he drawled in tones that -penetrated the farthest corners of the auditorium, -“what did you want to show your -ignorance of the Scriptures for by hanging -Conover’s picture in the middle with Jackson -and Jefferson on the outside? You’ve got -things reversed. In the original it was the -Just Man who hung between two thieves. -You ought to have put your mug and Conover’s -up there with Clive Standish in the -centre, if you wanted to carry out the right -idea.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And Shevlin, in no wise comprehending, -looked for the first time with somewhat less -pride on his artistic work, and waxed puzzled -at the roar of laughter that swept over the -massed delegates.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Them pictures set the Boss back fifteen -dollars apiece,” he began, in self-justification, -“an’——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And like most of the crowd here,” finished -<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>Ansel, “they were sold to Conover before -the convention began.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was the usual noise and tramping of -feet and clamoring of brass bands, the customary -rabble of uniformed campaign clubs -with their gaudy banners and pompous drum-majors -about the hall and in it, for an hour -before the time that had been set for the calling -of the convention. Here, there and everywhere -circulated the busy lieutenants of Boss -Conover. Their master, with a little coterie -of chosen lieutenants moved early into his -headquarters in one of the rooms at the rear -of the stage, where he sat like some wise old -spider in the heart of his web, sending out -warnings, advice and admonitions to his under-strappers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Although Conover was leaving no ravelled -ends loose in his marvellously perfect machine, -he took his wonted precautions more -through force of habit and for discipline’s -sake than through any necessity. He felt -calmly confident of the result. He had looked -upon his work and he had seen that it was -good. Even had Standish been the choice of -a majority of the people in all eight counties -of the State, it would have availed him little, -for through the routine tricks whereof the -Railroader was past master, his young opponent -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>was at the last able to control the votes -of but two counties—Matawan and Wills.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Standish’s contesting delegates from the -other six counties sat sullen and grim in the -gallery. Fraudulent Conover delegates, who -had usurped the formers’ places by the various -ruses so successfully put into action at -the caucuses, held the credentials and occupied -the seats belonging by rights to the -Leaguers on the floor of the Convention Hall. -There the Machine delegates smilingly sat and -awaited the moment when they should name -their Boss as candidate for Governor.</p> - -<p class='c010'>From the seats of the usurpers there went -up a merry howl of derision as Standish’s two -little blocks of delegates from Matawan and -Wills marched in and took their places well -down in front, where they formed a pitifully -small oasis among the Conover delegates -from Bowden, Carney, Haldane, Jericho, -Sparta and Pompton counties.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was no cheering by the Standish -delegates on the floor of the convention. -Nine out of ten knew that it was practically -a hopeless fight into which they were about -to plunge, and they knew, too, that not one -of them would have been given his rightful -place as a delegate, had it not been that even -Conover feared to outrage sentiment in those -ever-turbulent rural counties, as he had done -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>in the larger and more “loyal” sections of -the State.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Karl Ansel, with an inscrutable grin on his -long, leathery face, might have sat for a picture -of a typical poker player, as he slipped -into his place at the head of the Wills County -delegation. If the shadow of defeat was in -his heart, it did not rest upon his lignum -vitæ features. What mattered it that his -every opponent was smugly aware that the -League’s cards were deuces? It was Karl’s -business to wear the look of a man secure behind -a pat flush. And he wore it. But at -heart he was sore distressed for the hopes of -the brave lad he had learned to like so well. -And, as he watched the swelling ranks of -Conover delegates, his sorrow hardened into -white-hot wrath.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Standish was nowhere in sight. Following -the ordinary laws of campaign etiquette, he -did not show himself before the delegates in -advance of the nomination; but, like Conover, -sat in temporary headquarters behind -the stage. About him were a little knot of -Civic Leaguers, some of them men who had -run the risk of personal violence in the campaign -in their fight to obtain a square deal -for the young reformer against the Juggernaut -onrush of the Machine. One and all -they were Job’s comforters, for they knew it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>would take a miracle now to snatch the nomination -from the Railroader’s grip.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Promptly at twelve o’clock Shevlin, in his -newly acquired capacity of State Chairman, -called the convention to order. He had -judiciously distributed bunches of his best -trained shouters where they would do the -most good. This claque, glad to earn their -money, kept an eye on their sub-captains and -cheered at the slightest provocation. They -cheered Shevlin as he brought the gavel down -sharply on the oak table in front of him, and -went through the customary rigmarole of announcing -the purposes of the convention. -They cheered when he named the secretaries -and assistant secretaries who would act until -the permanent organization had been effected. -And between times they cheered just for the -joy of cheering.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Through the din the little square of Standish -delegates from Wills and Matawan sat -grim and silent, while the contesting delegates -in the gallery above muttered to one -another under their breath their yearnings for -the opportunity to take personal payment on -the bodies of those who had ousted them from -their lawful places.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Both sides knew that the first and last test -of strength would come upon the selection of -the Committee on Credentials, since it was to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>this committee that the contests of the six -larger counties for the right to sit in the convention -would go for settlement. By an oversight -common to more than one State, there -was no clause in the party laws setting forth -the procedure to be followed in the selection -of the committee of a State convention. At -preceding conventions the chairman had invariably -(and justly) ruled that only delegates -whose seats were not contested should -be entitled to a hand in the selection of the -Committee on Credentials, for custom holds -that to permit delegates whose seats are contested -to have a hand in the selection of the -committee, would be like allowing men on -trial to sit as jurors.</p> - -<p class='c010'>On the observance of this unwritten rule -hinged Clive Standish’s last and greatest -hope. If this precedent were to be followed -now, it would, of course, as he had pointed -out to the doubting Ansel, result in the selection -of a committee by the Standish delegates -from Wills and Matawan counties, since in -those counties alone there were no contests. -This must mean a fair struggle. On it Clive -staked his all. Staked it, forgetting the endless -resource and foresight of his foe. For -Caleb Conover had no quixotic notion of -giving his rival any advantage whatever. -On the preceding night he had written out -<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>his decree. This command Shevlin now hastily -read over before acting on it:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>Announce that the chairman rules there -shall be three members of the Committee on -Credentials from each county, regardless of -that county’s voting strength, and that the -delegates holding the credentials from each -county shall be allowed to choose those committeemen.</em>”</p> - -<p class='c010'>To the layman such an order may mean -little. To the convention it meant everything. -Six counties were, officially, for Conover. -Two for Standish. Thus eighteen of Caleb’s -adherents could, and would, vote to ratify the -seating of the Railroader’s delegates. The -opponents of this weird measure could muster -a numerical force of but six.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Meanwhile, the preliminary organization of -the convention had been effected without -much delay. The Standish delegates, knowing -the futility of making a fight at this time, -had raised merely a perfunctory opposition -to the nomination of Bourke as temporary -chairman. Through Bourke (by way of -Shevlin) Conover now proclaimed his plan -of choosing the all-important Committee on -Credentials.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Bourke, well drilled, repeated the decision -in a droning monotone. Instantly the convention -was in the maddest uproar. All semblance -<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>of order was lost. Bedlam broke loose. -In the gallery the contesting Standish delegates -writhed in impotent rage, leaning far -over the rail, shaking their fists and howling -down insult, curse and threat.</p> - -<p class='c010'>On the floor the delegates from Wills and -Matawan were already upon their feet, yelling -furious protests, shrieking “Fraud;” -“Robbery!” and kindred pleasantries, without -trying or hoping to secure recognition -from the chair.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Foreseeing the inevitable trend of affairs, -the Conover “heelers” and the fraudulent -delegates from the six larger counties had -been prepared for this. At a signal from -Billy Shevlin they burst into a deafening uproar -of applause.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The furtive-faced Bourke rapped on the -table, but the bang of his heavy gavel was unheard. -The Standish delegates would not be -quieted, and the Conover crowd did not want -to be.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A dozen fist-fights started simultaneously. -A ’longshoreman—Conover district captain -from one of the “railroad” wards of Granite—wittily -spat in the face of a vociferating -little farmer from Wills County, and then -stepped back with a bellow of laughter at his -own powers of repartee. But others understood -the gentle art of “retort courteous” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>almost as well as he. Losing for once his inherited -New England calm, Karl Ansel drove -his big gnarled fist flush into the grinning -face of the dock-rat, and sent him whirling -backward amid a splintering of broken seats.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As the ’longshoreman staggered to his feet, -wiping the blood from his face, the sergeant-at-arms -(foreman of a C. G. & X. section -gang), made a rush for Ansel, but prudently -held back as the gaunt old man fell on guard -and grimly awaited his new opponent’s onset.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Ansel, smarting and past all control, -ploughed his way down the main aisle, and -halting below the stage, shook his clenched -fist at Caleb’s crayon likeness.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve seen forty pictures of Judas Iscariot -in my time,” he thundered, apostrophizing -the portrait in a nasal voice that rose high -above the clamor, “and no two of them -looked alike. But by the Eternal, they <em>all</em> -were the living image of YOU!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then he went down under an avalanche of -Conover rowdies, giving and taking blows as -he was borne headlong to the floor. Through -the tumult, the pounding of Bourke’s gavel -upon the table was like the unheeded rat-tat -of a telegraph ticker in a tornado. It was -fifteen minutes before a semblance of order -had been restored. By that time there were -on every side a kaleidoscopic vista of bleeding -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>noses, torn clothing, and battered, wrathful -faces.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Thus it was that, at the cost of a brief interim -of fruitless rioting, the Machine had -its way. Over the hopeless protests and bitter -denunciations of the tricked minority the -empty form of choosing the Committee on -Credentials was carried through. As a foreseen -result, Standish had but six members -on the committee, three from Wills and three -from Matawan, while from the Conover faction -eighteen were to sit in judgment upon -the merits of their own cause.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The contest was over. The Standish delegates -offered but a perfunctory opposition to -the work of choosing the Committees on Organization -and Platform. This much having -been done, the convention took the usual recess, -leaving the committees to go into session -in separate rooms back of the stage.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The delegates filed out, the men from Wills -and Matawan angry and silent in their -shamed defeat, those from the six victorious -counties crowing exuberant glee at their easy -triumph.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The adjournment announced, Clive slipped -out of the Convention Hall by a rear entrance, -and went across to his private office -at the League rooms. He wanted to be alone—away -<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>from even the staunchest friends—in -this black hour. Against all counsel and experience, -against hope itself, he had hoped to -the last. His bulldog pluck, his faith in his -mission, had upheld him above colder, saner -reason. Even the repeated warnings of Ansel -had left him unconvinced. Up to the very -moment Conover’s final successful move was -made Standish had hoped. And now hope -was dead.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He was beaten. Hopelessly, utterly, starkly -beaten. From the outset Conover had played -with him and his plans, as a giant might play -with a child. It had been no question of open -battle, with the weaker antagonist battered to -earth by the greater strength of his foe. Far -worse, the whole campaign had been a futile -struggle of an enmeshed captive to break -through a web too mighty for his puny efforts, -while his conqueror had sat calmly by, -awaiting a victory that was as sure as the rise -of the sun.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Standish knew that in a few minutes he -would be able to pull himself together and -face the world as a man should. In the interim, -with the hurt animal’s instinct, he -wanted to be alone.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Save for a clerk in the antechamber, the -League’s rooms were deserted. Everyone -was at the convention. The clerk rose at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>Clive’s entrance and would have spoken, but -the defeated candidate passed unheeding into -his own office, closing the door behind him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then, stopping short, his back to the closed -door, he stared, unbelieving, at someone who -rose at his entrance and hurried forward, -hands outstretched, to greet him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I knew you would come here!” said Anice -Lanier. “I <em>felt</em> you would, so I hurried over -as soon as they adjourned. Aren’t you glad -to see me?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He still stared, speechless, dumbfounded. -She had caught his unresponsive hands, and -was looking up into his tired, hopeless eyes -with a wealth of pity and sympathy that broke -through the mask of blank misery on his face, -and softened the hard lines of mouth and jaw -into a shadow of a smile.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It was good of you to come,” he said at -last. “I thought I couldn’t bear to see anyone -just now. But—it’s so different with you. -I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He ceased speaking. His overstrung nerves -were battling against a childish longing to -bury his hot face in those cool little white -hands whose lightest touch so thrilled him, -and to tell this gentle, infinitely tender girl -all about his sorrows, his broken hopes, his -crushed self-esteem. In spirit he could feel -her arms about his aching head, drawing it to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>her breast; could hear her whispered words of -soothing and encouragement.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then, on the moment, the babyish impulse -passed and he was himself again, self-controlled, -outwardly stolid, realizing as never before -that the price of strength is loneliness.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I am beaten,” he went on, “but I think, -we made as good a fight as we could. Perhaps -another time——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>She withdrew her hands from his. Into her -big eyes had crept something almost akin to -scorn.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You are giving up?” she asked incredulously. -“You will make no further effort -to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What more is to be done? The Committee -on Credentials——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I know. I was there. It’s all been a -wretched mistake from the very beginning. -Oh, <em>why</em> were you so foolish about those letters?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Letters? What letters?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The letters sent you with news of Mr. Conover’s -plans for——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Those anonymous letters I got? What -do <em>you</em> know——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I wrote them,” said Anice Lanier.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER X<br /> <span class='large'>ANICE INTERVENES</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>“You wrote them? <em>You</em> wrote them?” -muttered Standish, over and over, stupid, -dazed, refusing to believe, to understand.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” she said, “I wrote them. And I -wrote one to Mr. Ansel. He was wiser than -you. He tried to profit by what I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And I—<em>I</em> thought it might be Gerald Conover.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Gerald? He never knew any of the more -secret details of the campaign. His father -couldn’t trust him.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And he <em>did</em> trust <em>you</em>.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive had not meant to say it. He was sorry -before the words had passed his lips. Yet it -was the first lucid thought that came to him -as his mind cleared from the first shock of -Anice’s revelation. He knew how fully Conover -believed in this pretty secretary of his; -how wholly the Railroader had, in her case, -departed from his life rule of universal suspicion. -That she should thus, coldbloodedly, -calculatingly, have betrayed the trust of even -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>such an employer as Caleb was monstrous. -He could not reconcile it with anything in his -own long knowledge of her. The revelation -turned him sick.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You despise me, don’t you?” she asked. -There was no shame, no faltering in her clear -young voice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I have no right to—to judge anyone,” -he stammered. “I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You despise me.” And now it was a -statement, not a query.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No,” he said, slowly, trying to gauge his -own tangled emotions, “I don’t. I don’t -know why I don’t, but I don’t. I should -think anyone else that did such a thing was -lower than the beasts. But you—why, <em>you</em> -are yourself. And the queen can do no -wrong. I’ve known you nearly all your life. -If it had been possible for you to harbor a -mean or dishonest impulse I’d have been the -first person on earth to guess it. Because no -one else would have cared as I did. As I <em>do</em>. -I don’t understand it at all. And just at first -it bowled me over, and a whole rush of disloyal -thoughts and doubts came over me. -But I know now it’s all right, somehow, for -it’s <em>you</em>.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You mean,” exclaimed the girl, wonderingly, -“that after what I’ve told you, you -trust me?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>“Why, of course.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And you don’t even ask me to explain?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If there was anything I had a right to -know—that you wanted me to know—you’d -have explained of your own accord.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>She looked at him long, searchingly. Her -face was as inscrutable as the Sphinx’s, yet -when she spoke it was of a totally different -theme.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What are you going to do?” she inquired.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do?” he repeated, perplexed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, about the campaign.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There’s nothing to do. I am beaten. -When the convention meets, in half an hour, -Conover will be nominated. Only my two -little blocks of delegates will be left to oppose -him, against all that whole——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes; yes, I know that,” she interposed, -“but what then?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That is the end, I suppose. Perhaps by -the next gubernatorial campaign——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The next? <em>This</em> campaign hasn’t fairly -begun yet. Do you mean to say you are going -to sit by with folded hands and accept defeat?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What else is left?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Everything is left. You have tried to -fight an all-powerful machine, to fight it on -its own ground, along its own lines, yet refusing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>to use its own weapons or to guard -against them. And you have failed. The -<em>real</em> fight begins now.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I mean you must call on the people at -large to help you. You have aroused them. -Already there is so much discontent against -Boss rule that Mr. Conover is troubled. You -have no right to abandon the Cause now that -you’ve interested others in it. Put yourself -in the people’s hands.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You mean, to——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“To declare yourself an independent candidate.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Bolt’ the Democratic ticket? It——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It is against custom, but good men have -done it. In this battle, as I understand it, -there is no question of party issues. It is -the people against the Machine. Can’t you -see?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” he replied, after a moment of hesitation, -“I see. And you are right. But it -means only the courting of further defeat. -What Conover has already done in muzzling -the press and using other crooked tactics, he -will continue to do. My speeches won’t be -allowed to circulate. My meetings will be -broken up. More Conover men will register -than can be found on the census list. And -on Election Day there will be the usual ballot -<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>frauds. All the voting machinery is in Conover’s -hands. Even if I won I would be -counted out at the polls. No——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wait! If I can clear the way for you, -if I can insure you a fair chance, if I can prevent -any frauds and force Mr. Conover to -leave the issue honestly to the people of the -Mountain State—if I can do all this, then -will you declare yourself an independent candidate, -and——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But how can <em>you</em>—a girl—do all this?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll explain that to you afterwards. But -it won’t be in any unfair or underhand way. -You said just now you trusted me. Can’t -you trust me in this, too?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You know I can.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And you’ll do as I ask?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s worth trial. I’ll do it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then I shall be the first to congratulate -the future Governor.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Anice!”—the old-time boyish impetuosity -she so well remembered flashing into -one of its rare recurrences—“if I win this -fight—if I am elected Governor—I shall have -something worth while at last to offer you. -If I come to you the day I am elected——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I shall congratulate you only as I would -any other friend.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>His lips tightened as at a blow. For a moment -neither spoke. It was Clive who broke -the silence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I have said it awkwardly,” he began. -“If it had been less to me I might have -found more eloquence. I love you. I think -I have always loved you. You know that. -A woman always knows. I love you. I loved -you in the old days, when I was too poor to -have the right to speak. What little I am—what -little I may have achieved—is for <em>you</em>. -I have not made much of myself. But that -I’ve made anything at all is due to you. In -everything I have done, your eyes and your -smile have been before me. At heart, I’ve -laid every success at your feet. At heart I’ve -asked your faith and your pardon for each of -my failures. And, whether you care or not, -it will always be the same. That one dear -ambition will spur me on to make the very -best of myself. My victories shall be your -victories whether you wish it or not. Perhaps -that seems to you presumptuous or -foolish?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was no perceptible emotion in the -half-whispered word. From it Clive could -glean nothing. Presently he went on:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I think whenever you see a man trying -to make the most of all that is in him, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>wearing out his very soul in this breakneck -American race for livelihood, you’ll find there -is some woman behind it all. It is for her, -not for his own selfish ambition, that he is -fighting. Sometimes she crowns his victory. -Sometimes he wins only the thorn-crown. -But the glory of the work and the winning -are hers. Not his. Now you know why I -entered this Governorship fight, and why I -am willing to keep it up. Oh, sweetheart, I -<em>love</em> you so. You <em>must</em> understand, now, why -I longed to come to you in my hour of triumph -and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You would have come too late,” she said -in that same enigmatic undertone.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>Anice.</em>”</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was a world of pain in his appeal, -yet she disregarded it; and, with face averted, -hurried on:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Would you care for—for the love of a -girl who made you wait until you could buy -her with fame and an income? Do I care -for the love of a man who holds that love so -cheaply he must accompany its gift with a -Governorship title——?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And now,” she observed, some minutes -later, as she strove to rearrange her tumbled -crown of rust-colored hair before the tiny -patch of office mirror, “and now, if you can -<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>be sensible for just a little while, we’ll go -back to the convention. And I’ll explain to -you about those letters. The anonymous -ones.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s all right. I don’t have to be told. -I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But I have to tell you. That’s the worst -of being a girl.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The crowd had trooped back into the Convention -Hall. Gerald Conover had not been -at the earlier session, but now, his sallow face -flushed with liquor, he sat silent and dull-eyed -among a party of noisy young satellites, -in one of the dingy, chicken-coop boxes at -the side of the stage.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He had evidently been drinking hard. In -fact, since his wife’s visit to Granite, the previous -week, the youngster had seldom if ever -been wholly sober. Nor was his habitual -apathy all due to drink.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Conover machine, having greased the -wheels and oiled the cogs, did not propose to -lose any time in running its Juggernaut over -the young reformer who had dared to brave -an entrenched and ruthless organization. -Amid a hullabaloo Bourke called the conference -to order, ending his formula with the -equally perfunctory request:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All gents kindly r’frain from smokin’!”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>At the word a hundred matches were struck, -in scattered volley, from all corners of the -place. For nothing else so inflames the desire -to smoke as does its unenforceable prohibition. -Thus, amid clouds of malodorous campaign -tobacco smoke, was the sacrifice to the -Machine consummated.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Committee on Resolutions offered a -perfunctory platform filled with the customary -hackneyed phrases, lauding the deeds of -Democracy and denouncing the Republican -party. As the Republicans had never won -a victory in the Mountain State since 1864, -these platitudes were provocative of vast -yawns and of shuffling of feet as the delegates -impatiently awaited the call to the -slaughter.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The six Standish men on the Platform -Committee had prepared a minority report, -but on the advice of Ansel they did not present -it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Committee on Organization, by a vote -of eighteen to six, offered a report nominating -Bourke, temporary chairman, to succeed -himself as permanent chairman.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then, while the Conover claque hooted joyously -and the Standish men sat by in helpless -silence, the finishing stroke was delivered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Two reports were offered from the Committee -on Credentials, one of the minority, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>signed by the six members from Wills and -Matawan, recommending the seating of the -contesting Standish delegates from the other -six counties; the other, signed by the eighteen -Conover members of the committee, recommending -that the delegates holding credentials -be allowed to retain their seats.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The majority report was jammed through, -while Shevlin’s noble army of brazen-lunged -shouters cheered, screeched and blew tin -horns.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In his den behind the stage Caleb Conover’s -mouth corners twisted in a grim smile of satisfaction -as the babel of noise reached him. -From some mysterious source Shevlin had -produced a half-dozen bottles of champagne, -and there, in the room of the successful candidate, -corks were drawn and success was -pledged to “the Mountain State’s next and -greatest Governor,” with Caleb’s time-honored -slogan, “To hell with reform!” as a -rider.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In another room, directly across the stage, -a very different scene was in action. Karl -Ansel had left his seat in the Wills County -delegation, turning over the floor leadership -of the forlorn Standish hope to Judge Shelp, -of Matawan; and had gone direct to Standish’s -quarters. The room had been empty -when he entered, but before he had waited -<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>thirty seconds, the door was flung open and -Clive hurried in.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Ansel looked sharply at him. Then in -astonished bewilderment. He had expected -to find the beaten man dejected, bereft of -even his customary strong calm. On the -contrary, Standish, his face alive with resolve -and with some other impulse that baffled -even Ansel’s shrewd observation, came -into the place like a whirlwind. Kicking -aside the litter of dusty stage properties and -dingy, discolored hangings that were piled -near the door, he made his way to Karl and -grasped his hand.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How goes it?” he asked. “I’m sorry -to be late. I thought——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, Boy, it’s all up,” said Ansel. -“Some fool said once that virtue was its -own reward, and I guess it just naturally -has to be. It never gets any other. In half -an hour from now Caleb Conover will be -nominated for Governor, and we will be bowing -our necks for his collar, and pledging -ourselves to support him and his dirty gang, -just as we always have in the past and just -as we always will in the future, I presume. -We put up a good fight and an honest one, -but you see where it’s landed us. So far as -we are concerned, it’s all over but the shouting.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>And the grim old New Englander dropped -his hand upon the shoulder of the defeated -candidate with an awkward gesture that was -half a caress.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re mistaken,” retorted Clive, “the -shouting has just begun. Ansel, I have made -up my mind. A man owes more to his State -than he owes to his party. Political regularity -is one thing, and common decency is -another. I marched into this convention a -free man, with nobody’s collar on my neck, -and I’m going to march out in the same -way.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What?” almost shouted Ansel. “You’re -not going to bolt?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, I am,” answered Standish. “And -I’m going to bolt right now before the nomination -is made.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But, man,” protested Ansel, “think of -it—the irregularity of it! You’ll be branded -as a bolter and a renegade, and a traitor and -a lot of other things. Why, man alive, it’ll -<em>never</em> do.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It <em>will</em> do,” responded Standish. “I -have it all planned. If we walk out of this -convention now, we are going to take some of -the delegates with us. I believe that the Independents -will indorse us, and I believe that -the Republicans will indorse us; if we take -this stand. I believe that there are thousands -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>of Democrats who think more of the State -than they do of any one man or any one party. -They have followed Conover because there -was no one else to follow. Yes, <em>I’m</em> going to -bolt, and I’m going out there now and tell -these people why I do it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But look here, Standish,” remonstrated -Ansel, “that’s mighty near as irregular as -the bolting itself, going out there and making -a speech. No candidate’s ever supposed to -show his face to the convention until after the -nomination is made. You know that, don’t -you? Then, after the nomination he comes -out either to accept it or to promise his support -to the winner. You’ll bust the party traditions -all to flinders.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Very well,” assented Clive, “if I can -smash the Machine, too, it’s all I ask. I tell -you my mind is made up. This convention -has been a mockery, a farce. You know how -many voters were with us, and you know the -deal our delegates got. The time’s come in -this State to draw up a new Declaration of -Independence. And, right now, I’m going to -be the man to start the ball rolling.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But, hold on!” began Ansel. Clive did -not hear. Brushing past the lank manager, -he walked out of the room and made his way -to the front of the platform. Karl, muttering -perplexedly, followed him.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>As the young candidate’s tall figure -emerged from the wings, a buzz of wonder -went up from the delegates on the floor below, -for, as Ansel had said, such an advent -at such a time was without precedent. But -there was neither hisses from the Conover -crowd nor cheers from the corner where the -survivors of the Standish hope sat. The -delegates were too astonished to make any -demonstration.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Straight across the stage Standish strode. -Shevlin, hurrying out from Conover’s room, -made as though to bar his way, but gave -place before the other’s greater bulk, and -fled to tell the Railroader what was afoot.</p> - -<p class='c010'>With Ansel still behind him, Standish kept -on until he reached the table beside which -the chairman sat. At his coming Bourke -jumped nervously to his feet.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hey! This ain’t regular,” he began, unconsciously -copying Ansel’s words. “The -nomination’s just goin’ to begin, and we——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But he could get no further. Standish -pushed him aside, ignoring the chairman as -completely as if he were one of the battered -stage properties.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Dropping one hand upon the table, he faced -the crowd, his whole being alert with tense -nervous force. A low murmur, like a ground -swell, ran from row to row of seats, and found -<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>its echo in the galleries, where hundreds of -the townspeople had packed themselves to -hear the nominating speeches, and to witness, -with varying emotions, the crowning victory -of Caleb Conover.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the midst of a silence in which the fall -of the proverbial pin would have sounded like -the early morning milk wagon, Clive Standish -began the most unusual speech that a -Mountain State convention had ever heard.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My friends——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>From Shevlin’s rooters came a volley of -hisses and cat-calls, but the disturbance -and the disturbers were speedily squelched. -From the galleries and from the back of the -stage, where many prominent townsfolk sat, -there sprang up a roll of protest, so menacing -in its tone, that the half-drunken thugs’ -cheer-leaders deemed it the better part of -valor to draw into their shells and remain -thereafter mute.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My friends,” repeated Standish, his powerful -voice echoing from floor to roof, “Abraham -Lincoln freed the black men forty odd -years ago. It’s time that somebody freed -the white brother. For years this State has -groaned under the tribute of a relentless Machine, -under the rule of a railroad that was -all stomach and no conscience, all bowels and -no heart, all greed and no generosity. Our -<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>party—and with shame I say it—has been -turned into a vest-pocket asset of this vile -corporation. For months past, and more -especially to-day, you have seen what its -power is, as opposed to the power of the more -honest citizens of our party. It won to-day, -it won yesterday, and it won the day before. -It always has won. It rests with us here to-day, -now and in this hour, to decide whether -a new Proclamation of Emancipation is to -be issued or whether the great Democratic -party in the Mountain State shall continue -to be the chattel, the credulous, simple, weak-kneed, -backboneless, hopeless, helpless victim -of the greediest, most corrupt railroad -that ever trailed its steel shackles across the -face of the earth. Whether or not the Boss-guided -Machine shall beat us to earth and -hold us there forever. We have tried reforming -the party from the inside, and we have -failed. Has the time come to reform it from -the outside?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He paused, and the answer came. From -the Conover hosts went up a shout of “No! -No!” mingled with hiss and groan. But instantly, -from a great scattered mass of the -audience, and from the Standish delegates on -the floor, there arose an outburst of cheering -that drowned the barking negatives of what -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>had been but ten short minutes before a majority -of that convention.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The effect of this outburst was diverse on -its hearers. With Standish himself it acted -as a tonic, as an electric battery which gave -him added force and vigor for what he had -yet to say. Karl Ansel it seemed for the -moment to stupify and paralyze. Conover’s -lieutenants it threw into a state of consternation, -which approached frenzy, panic, demoralization. -They ran aimlessly to and -fro, conferring excitedly in hoarse whispers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Conover, alone, from his den at the rear of -the stage, smiled to himself and gave no other -sign of interest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Standish was speaking again, and now behind -him stood Karl Ansel recovering from -his amazement, and intent to catch his leader’s -every word.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I tell you,” thundered Clive, beside himself -with excitement, “we have got to act—and -to act <em>now</em>. I tell you that the people of -this State, irrespective of party, are waiting -for half a chance to throw off the yoke of -the railroad—of the Machine. All over this -country of ours bosses are being overthrown. -They are going down to ruin in the wreckage -of their own Machines; and it is the PEOPLE -who are downing them. The day of Bossism -is passing—passing forever. We came into -<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>this convention as free men. <em>Some</em> of us did. -And I for one propose to walk out of it a -free man. If we go before the people of this -State on the issue of honest government as -opposed to dishonesty, I tell you that we will -<em>win</em>. It only needs a man with a match, and -the nerve to use that match, to start a conflagration -that will burn party ties to cinders -and leave a free, emancipated people.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let them call me bolter, if they will! -Let them call me traitor, ingrate, renegade! -I would rather be a bolter than a thief. I -would rather rip my party, dearly as I love -it, to rags and tatters, than to sacrifice my -own self-respect any longer! I would rather -see the Democratic party pass from existence -altogether than to see it continue the -tool and the creature of greed and dishonesty.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, they may call me bolter, and properly -so, for I am going to bolt this convention! -Is there a man who will follow me out -of doors? Out of the filthy atmosphere of -this Machine-ridden, Boss-owned convention, -into the pure sunshine of God’s own people?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the midst of an indescribable tumult, in -which hisses and cheers were madly intermingled, -Clive Standish leaped off the platform, -cleared the orchestra railing and strode -<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>up the middle aisle toward the open door at -the far end of the hall.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And then a strange thing occurred. Karl -Ansel, as a man wakened from a dream, -rubbed his eyes, and peered for a moment at -Clive’s retreating back. Then with a yell -that shook the rafters he, too, bounded over -the rail and hastened up the aisle behind his -leader.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The delegates from Wills and Matawan -counties arose as one man, forming in procession -behind Ansel and Standish.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Down the steps from the gallery came not -one, nor a dozen, but nine-tenths of those -who had heard the speech, including the very -cream of the representative business element -of Granite.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The remarkable scene was over in almost -less than it takes to tell of it. In a daze sat -the abandoned convention. Glancing about -them, even the Conover delegates on the floor -discovered here and there vacant chairs, gaps -in their own solid ranks, where some one, -weaker perhaps than the others—or perhaps -stronger—had been moved by the furious -oratory of Clive Standish to join that procession -which even now was rolling out of -the front door into the quiet, gaslit street -like a living avalanche.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Bourke managed to pull the remnants of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>the convention back into some sort of shape. -The delegates went through the form of nominating -Conover. A quantity of hand-made -enthusiasm burst forth; and then, without a -speech from the successful nominee, the great -occasion wound up in a roar of cheers, shouts -and blaring music.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There wasn’t any stereopticon stunts -done while I was out of the room, was -there?” asked Billy Shevlin as, at the close -of the proceedings, he and Bourke repaired -to Conover’s den behind the stage.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“’Course not,” answered the chairman. -“Why?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, nothin’,” said Billy, “only I heard -one of them N’ York reporters sayin’ something -about ‘handwritin’ on the wall.’ Maybe -it’s a new joke that ain’t reached Granite yet.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No,” remarked the Railroader, as he -joined his lieutenants, “it hasn’t reached -Granite, and what’s more it ain’t going to. -The only handwriting on these walls will -take the form of a double cross. And it’ll be -opposite Standish’s name.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XI<br /> <span class='large'>CALEB CONOVER MAKES TERMS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>“Well,” remarked Caleb Conover, Railroader, -with a Gargantuan sigh of relief as -he flung himself into the great desk chair in -his study, and lighted one of his eternal black -cigars, “<em>that’s</em> over!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It sure is!” chuckled Billy Shevlin, who, -alone of the cheering throng that had escorted -the gubernatorial nominee home from the convention, -had been permitted to enter the sanctum. -“But, Boss, I wisht that Standish feller -hadn’t stampeded the herd like he did. -It’ll cut holes in your ‘landslide’ scheme.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What can the crank do?” grinned Caleb. -“Not a paper in Granite’ll report his speech. -And we’ll work the same game up-State we -did during his tour. If worst comes to worst, -there’s always a quiet, orderly way of losing -sight of him at the polls. No, son, Standish’s -yawps don’t bother me any more. I’ve got -him about where I want him, I guess. Here’s -the cash for the rooters. And here’s something -for the boys to-night, too. Whoop it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>up all you like, so long as you keep on the -other side of the railroad tracks. That’ll be -all. Come around by eight to-morrow. And -say, Billy!” he called after his departing -henchman, “see if you can find Miss Lanier -downstairs anywhere. I want to speak to -her.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Railroader leaned farther back in the -depths of the soft chair, drawing in great -draughts of strong tobacco-reek and expelling -it in duplex clouds through his thick -nostrils.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was good to rest. As far as his iron -frame and cold nerves could feel such a weakness, -reaction from the long strain of the day -was upon him. In Conover’s case it took the -form of lazy comfort; of enjoyment in his -rank cigar, in the sensuous delight of relaxing -every tense muscle and of sprawling idly, -happily before his coal fire. The grim lines -of the mouth relaxed, the keen eyes took on a -pleasanter light.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He had fought. He had won. He would -continue to win. For him the joy of fighting -lay more in the battle itself than in the victory. -But in the pause between two conflicts -it was good to stretch one’s self out in a great, -comfortable chair, to smoke, to blink drowsily -into the red coals. The one thing remaining -to complete his sense of utter well-being was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>the presence of some congenial soul wherewith -to talk over his achievement. And——</p> - -<p class='c010'>Anice Lanier’s knock sounded at the door. -Caleb’s placid expression deepened into a -smile of real pleasure.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come in!” he called. “I was just hoping -you’d——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He checked himself. Across the threshold -stepped Anice. She wore a hat and was -dressed for the street. Over her shoulder -Caleb caught sight of Clive Standish.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Here’s all sorts of unexpected honors!” -exclaimed the Railroader. “I heard you’d -bolted, Standish, but I never thought you’d -bolt so far as this poor shanty of mine. -Come in and sit down. We’ll make a real -merry family party, us three.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was something peculiarly happy in -this advent of the defeated man to swell the -victor’s triumph. Caleb vaguely felt this. -He was glad Anice should see Clive and himself -together; should be able to observe his -own reserved strength as opposed to the -bombastic denunciation Standish had doubtless -come to deliver. It would amuse her to -note the contrast between the two; to see -her employer’s superiority in self-control -and repartee.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So, as Standish followed the girl into the -room, the host actually beamed on his intended -<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>victim. Then he noticed that neither -Anice nor her escort sat down. Also that -the latter remained near the door, while Miss -Lanier advanced toward the desk chair Caleb -had drawn so snugly into the hearth-angle. -But she ignored a second and even -softer chair he had arranged on the opposite -side of the fire. And all this dimly troubled -Caleb Conover.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Anything the matter?” he asked, with -somewhat less assurance. “Come to propose -a compromise, Standish? Or maybe a campaign -partnership? Good idea, that! Only -I’m afraid it wouldn’t work this time. In -business partnership, you know, one man -puts up the money and the other the experience. -And by the end of sixty days they’ve -usually swapped. But in politics one man -always has both the experience and the -money. Or the means of getting ’em. Otherwise -he wouldn’t be there at all. So I’m -afraid I’ll have to refuse.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He ended with a laugh that did not carry -conviction, even to himself. No one replied. -Neither of his guests’ faces showed sign of -having heard. Conover’s good temper wavered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What’s up?” he demanded of Clive. -“Speak out, can’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But it was Anice Lanier who replied.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>“Mr. Conover,” she said, “you recollect -the unsigned letter, enclosing some of your -campaign plans, that was sent back to you -by Mr. Standish last week?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb’s red hair bristled.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” he answered, deep in his throat. -“Have you found out who sent it?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I have,” she returned, in the same level -voice. “Also the sender of two other letters -of the sort, earlier in the campaign. One of -these was to Mr. Standish. It contained a description -of your plan for the county caucuses -and of the measures you had framed -against his up-State tour. Mr. Standish destroyed -that letter and refused to act on its -suggestion.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“More fool he. Who wrote it?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The second letter was to Mr. Ansel,” -went on Anice. “It gave him the idea for -scattering issues of an out-of-State paper -along the speech-route, with advertisements -and report of——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Who wrote it, I asked you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The same person wrote all three.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then who——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I did.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This isn’t a thing to joke about. There’s -a leak somewhere pretty high up, and I must -find——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I wrote them.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>She spoke slowly, as though imparting a -lesson. The Railroader’s eyes searched her -face one instant. Then he dropped back, -heavy and inert, into the farthest recess of -his chair.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good Lord!” he whispered, staring at her -blankly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I wrote them,” reiterated Anice. “No -one knew, not even Mr. Standish, until to-day. -I brought him here this evening, because -something that is to be said must be -said in his hearing. I have his promise not -to interfere in this interview, but to let me -take my own course. It was I, too, at whose -advice he bolted the ticket at——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>You’ve</em> done all this?” blurted Caleb, -finding his shattered self-poise at last. “Are -you crazy, girl?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No; I am quite sane. From the start I -have helped Mr. Standish. By my help, I believe, -he will win the Governorship. I have -learned much from you, in practical politics, -Mr. Conover. I intend to put some of that -education into use. You see——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’ve backtracked me? <em>You</em>, of all the -folks alive! Why, I’d ’a’ gambled my whole -pile on your whiteness, girl. This is a measly -joke of some kind. It’s——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s the truth, Mr. Conover.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And Caleb, looking deep into her eyes, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>could at last doubt no longer. A dull red -crept into his face.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I’ll be damned!” he said, slow, -measured of voice, rigid of body. “Jockeyed -by the one person in the world I ever had -any trust in! Cleaned out like any drunken -sailor in a dance hall! Say,” he added in -puzzled querulousness, “what’d the Almighty -mean by putting eyes like yours in -the face of a——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A sudden forward movement from Standish -checked him, and, incidentally, drove -from his brain the last mists of bewilderment. -The Railroader settled forward in his -chair, his teeth meeting in the stump of the -cigar he had so contentedly lighted but a few -minutes before. He was himself again; arrogant, -masterful, vibrant with quick resource. -A sardonic smile creased his wooden -face.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re a noble work of God, Miss Lanier, -ain’t you?” he sneered. “In Bible days the -man who betrayed his Master was made the -star villain for all time. But when it’s a -woman that does the betraying, I guess even -the Bible would have to go shy on words -blazing enough to show her up. For three -years,” he went on, as Anice, by a quick -gesture, silenced Clive’s fierce interruption—“for -three years and more you’ve eaten -<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>my bread and lived on my money. For -three years I’ve treated you like you were a -queen. Whatever I’ve done or been to other -folks, to <em>you</em> I’ve been as white as any man -could be. You’ve had everything from me -and mine. And you pay me by playing the -petticoat-Judas. Look here, there’s something -behind all this! Tell me what it means.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It means,” answered Anice, who had -borne without wincing the hot lash of the -angry man’s scorn—“it means that I have -tried to pay a debt. Part I have paid. Part -I am paying.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A debt? What rot are you trying to -talk? I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If you care to listen I’ll tell you. I will -make it as short as I can. Shall I go on?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Conover nodded assent as a man in a -dream.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My father,” began Anice, speaking dispassionately, -her rich voice flattened to a -quiet monotone—“my father was Foster -Lanier. You never knew him. You never -knew many of the men you have wrecked. -But he was chief stockholder in the Oakland-Rodney -Railroad. He was not a business -man. The stock was left him by his father. -It was all we had to live on. It was enough. -You owned the C. G. & X. Little by little -you bought up the other Mountain State -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>roads. At last you came to the Oakland-Rodney. -Do you remember?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I remember my lawyer told me there was -some stiff-necked old fossil who owned the -majority stock and wouldn’t sell.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So you crushed him,” went on Anice, -unmoved, “as you have crushed others. You -cut off the road’s connecting points and severed -its communication with your own and -your allied lines. After isolating it you lowered -your own freight rates and mileage until -all the Oakland-Rodney patronage was gone. -The road collapsed, and you bought it in. -My father was a pauper. Other men have -been driven to the same straits by you—men -whose very names you did not take the trouble -to learn. My father knew little of business. -To save others who had bought Oakland-Rodney -stock at his advice, he sold what little -property he had and bought their worthless -stock back at par. He was ruined and above -his head in debt. My mother was an invalid. -The doctors said a trip to the Mediterranean -might save her life. We had not a dollar. -So she died. My father—he was out of his -mind from grief and from financial worry—my -father shot himself. It was hushed up by -our friends, and he was reported accidentally -killed while hunting. It was only one of the -countless victories you ‘financiers’ are so -<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>proud of. He and my mother were but two -of the numberless victims each of those victories -entails.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>She paused. Caleb made no reply. He sat -looking in front of him into the pulsing heart -of the fire. He had scarce heard her. His -mind was occupied to bursting by the shock -and acute pain of this rupturing of his last -intimate bond with humanity.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I was left to make my own way,” continued -Anice, “and I came here. Out of one -hundred applicants you accepted me. It was -not mere coincidence. I believe it was something -more. Something higher. I entered -your service that I might some day pay the -debt I owed my father, who was not strong -enough to bear your ‘victory,’ and my mother, -whose life the money you wrested from us -might have saved. This is melodramatic, of -course. But I think most things in real life -are. I came here. I worked for you. I won -your confidence, your respect, your trust. -Perhaps you think it was a pleasant task I -had set myself? I am not trying to justify -it. If it was unworthy, I have paid. You -say I’ve ‘eaten your bread and lived on your -money.’ I have. And I have received your -confidence. But have I ever eaten a mouthful -or received one penny that I did not earn -three times over? You yourself have said -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>again and again that I was worth to you ten -times what you paid me. You have begged -me to let you raise my salary, to accept presents -from you. Have I ever consented? If -there is a money balance between us, the debit -is all on your side. I owe you nothing for -what confidences you have lavished on me. -Have I ever asked for them or lured you into -bestowing them? Have not all such confidences -come unsought, even repelled, by me? -Have I ever spoken to you with more than -ordinary civility? Have I ever so much as -voluntarily shaken your hand? The Judas -parallel does not hold good, Mr. Conover.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>She waited again for a reply. But none -came. Conover merely shifted his heavy gaze -from the fire to her pale, drawn face.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“In all these years,” said Anice, “I have -waited my chance. I could not take your -life to atone for the two gentle lives you -crushed out. Nor would a life like yours -have paid one-hundredth of the debt. So I -have waited until your life-happiness, your -whole future, should be bound up in some one -great aspiration. Until you should stake all -on one card. When such a time should come -I resolved I would make you taste the bitter -shame and despair you have made others -groan under. Oh, it was long, weary waiting, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>but I think the end is coming. It <em>has</em> -come.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You talk fine, Miss Lanier,” observed -Caleb, all master of himself once more, “but -talking’s never quoted at par, except in a -poker game and a wedding ceremony. You’ve -been reading novels, and you’ve framed up -a dandy line of story book ree-venge. It’s -as good as any stage villainess could have -thought of. But, honest, it clean surprises -me how a woman with all your brains could -have took such a fool plan seriously. It’s -a grand stunt to grab the centre of the stage -and drive the wicked oppressor out into the -snow. Only it don’t happen to be snowing -to-night. Neither really nor fig’ratively. -No, no, Miss Lanier, your hand’s a four-flush, -and I hold a whole bunch of aces. Go ahead -with your little fireworks, if that’s your diversion. -It won’t bother anyone. Certainly -not <em>me</em>. The only regret I’ve got in the -whole business is finding you’ve so little horse -sense.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If I had so little,” answered Anice calmly, -“the affair would have to end here and now. -As it is——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s going on.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, you’ve extra cards to turn that four-flush into a win, eh? Show ’em out. I call.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>“If you put it that way. I’m told it only -needs one card to convert a ‘four-flush’ into -a good hand. Perhaps I can play that card -later. Perhaps you won’t oblige me to play -it at all. I hope you won’t.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Go ahead.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I have not been, unwillingly, in your confidence -all these years for nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb whistled.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m on!” said he curtly. “If I don’t -stand aside and let your little friend Standish -win the race, you’ll do some exposing? Sort -of like the girl who showed up John D. in a -magazine? Well, fire away. In the first -place, I’m not John D., and the American -public (outside the Mountain State) ain’t -laying awake nights to find out how Caleb -Conover got his. And if you mean to use -‘Confessions of a Secretary’ for a campaign -document this fall, you’re welcome to. I’ll -take my chance on getting a little more mud -than usual slung at me. It won’t affect the -election, and you know it won’t. And you -ought to know by this time how little I care -what folks think of my character. No, it -won’t do, Miss Lanier. If that’s the card -you’re counting on using to change your four-flush -into a winning hand——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You are mistaken. This time, Mr. Conover, -it is <em>I</em> who am surprised at <em>your</em> lack -<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>of perception. The ‘card’ I spoke of is the -Denzlow correspondence.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The Denzlow—? I burned that a year -ago—burned it in this very room. In this -fireplace. You were here and saw me. And -Denzlow died last May. I’m afraid your -‘card’ won’t help that poor, lonely four-flush -hand of yours after all. I’m sorry, -but——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You burned a package of letters wrapped -in a sheet indorsed ‘Denzlow,’” interposed -Anice, “but they happened to be a sheaf of -insurance circulars. With Mr. Denzlow’s -permission (and on my promise not to make -use of them while he was alive) I bought -those letters at the time you thought <em>you</em> -bought them back from him. He got extra -money, and the letters were supposed to be -transmitted to you through me. I kept the -originals. If you doubt it, here are certified -copies. You will see the notary’s signature -was dated last June. Does that convince -you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Where’s the letters themselves?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“With my brother. He is one of the subeditors -of the Ballston <cite>Herald</cite>. He is holding -them subject to my orders. When he receives -word from me he will either turn them -over to the Federal authorities (for it is a -United States Government matter, as you -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>know, with a term of imprisonment involved, -and not a mere State offence that can be -settled with a few thousand dollars), or else -he will publish the whole correspondence in -his paper, and leave the Government to act -as it sees fit. Does the card improve my -hand?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Conover made no immediate answer. -When he spoke there was no emotion in his -dry, business-like tones.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, it does,” he admitted, “and I’m -glad to see I was wrong about the condition -of those brains of yours. You’ve got me. I -could bluff anybody else, but I guess you -know my game too well. A bluff’s a blamed -good anchor in a financial storm. But after -the ship’s wrecked I never heard that the -cap’n got any special good out of the anchor. -So we’ll play straight, if you like. How much -do you want?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How much?” she repeated, doubtful of -his meaning.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How much will you take for those Denzlow -letters? Come now, let’s cut out the -measly diplomacy and get to the point. The -man who gets ahead in my line of work is the -man who knows when to pay hush-money and -when not to. This is the time to pay. How -much? Make me a cash offer.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You don’t understand,” protested Anice, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>again with a pretty, imperious gesture restraining -Clive. “I am not one of the blackmailers -you spend so much of your time silencing. -I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No? I never yet heard a scream that -was so loud a big enough check wouldn’t gag -it. This interview isn’t so allooring that I’m -stuck on stretching it out any longer. Make -your offer.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve explained to you that I want none -of your money.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then what—Oh!” broke off Conover, -clicking his teeth and narrowing his eyes to -gleaming slits, “I think I see. The Governorship, -eh?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Anice inclined her head.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So I’m to throw it to Standish? H’m! -And yet you say you’re not putting the hooks -in me! If that isn’t cold, straight, all-wool -blackmail, I don’t know what is. You think -you owe me something because I didn’t treat -your father just square. So you pay the -grudge off by blackmailing me. Maybe your -holy New England conscience is too near-sighted -to see it’s only in the devil’s ledger -that two wrongs make a right.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do you speak from experience? Because -it doesn’t fit this case. I propose -nothing of the sort.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then what in thunder <em>do</em> you want?” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>snarled Caleb, thoroughly mystified. “If it -ain’t cash or——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I want you to give Mr. Standish a fair -chance. That is all. I want you to remove -the embargo from his speeches and advertising; -to open the columns of every paper in -the Mountain State to him. To promise not -to molest him in any way, not to allow your -rowdies to break up his meetings nor to prevent -him from hiring halls. Not to stuff the -ballot-boxes, falsify the returns, employ -‘floaters’ or—in short, I want you to give -him an equal chance with yourself; to conduct -the campaign honestly, and to leave the -issue solely to the voters. Will you do this?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And if I beat him at that?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If you are elected by an honest majority, -that is no concern of ours. All I demand is -that you fight in the open and leave the result -to the people.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb thought in silence for a few moments.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If I do this?” he asked at last.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then, on the afternoon of Election Day, -my brother shall turn over to you, or to your -representative, the entire Denzlow correspondence.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I have your word for that? Certified -copies and all?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>“You don’t lie. That’s about the one foolish -trait I’ve ever found in you. If I’ve got -your word, you’ll stand by it. Can’t say -quite the same of <em>me</em>, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t think that needs an answer.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Can’t turn over the letters to me now, on -my pledge to——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m afraid not,” said Anice, almost -apologetically. “I must——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And you’re dead right. A promise is -such a sacred thing that it’s always wise to -keep your finger on the trigger till the real -money’s handed over. Just to keep the sacredness -from spoiling. As I understand it, -I’m to loosen up on Standish; and then if -I lick him fair, you and I are quits? I’ll -do it. Such a fight ought to prove pretty -amusing. It’ll be an experience anyhow, as -Sol Townsley said when Father Healy told -him he’d some day burn in hell. I’ll accept -those silly terms of yours for the same reason -so many men stay honest. They don’t -enjoy it, but it’s more fun than going to jail. -I’ll send out the orders first thing in the -morning. And on the afternoon of Election -Day I’ll get that Denzlow stuff?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes. And the certified copy the following -morning.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“In case I should get absent-minded that -night when the votes are counted? You’re a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>clever girl, Miss Lanier. Pity you’re to be -wasted on Standish! Oh, that’s all right. I -don’t need to be told. A girl like you isn’t -acting the way you do just for the sake of a -measly principle. And now,” his bantering -tone changing to one of brusque command, -“if there’s nothing more, maybe you’ll both -get out. I’m tired, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Clive and Anice withdrew. The latter, -looking back as she left the room, saw Caleb -sitting doubled over, motionless, in his chair, -his gaze again on the fire.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Perhaps it was the flicker from the coals -that made his face seem to her to have grown -in a moment infinitely old; his keen, light -eyes inexpressibly lonely and desolate. Undoubtedly -so, for when he glanced up and -saw she was not yet gone, there was no expression -save the shadow of a sardonic grin -stamped on his rugged features.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Long and late Caleb Conover sat there -alone in his big, silent study. The lamp on -the table flickered, guttered and went out. -The live coals died down to embers. The cold -of early autumn crept through the great -room, along with the encroaching darkness. -The clock on the wall chimed. Then again, -and a third time, but the Railroader sat motionless.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At length he gathered himself together with -an impatient grunt. He reached across to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>his table and drew from a drawer a gaudy -velvet case. As he opened it, the dying firelight -struck against a multi-pointed cluster -of tiny lights.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She wouldn’t have took it from me,” Caleb -grumbled, half-aloud, as though explaining -to some invisible companion, “but I -would ’a’ made Letty give it to her. It’d ’a’ -looked fine against that soft baby throat of -hers. Hell!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was a swirling little eddy of cinders -and sparks as the case crashed into the heart -of the dull red embers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Railroader had fallen back into his -former cramped, awkward attitude of reflection.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“First it was Jerry,” he whispered to -the imaginary auditor among the shadows. -“First Jerry. Then Blanche. And now—<em>her</em>. -That’s worse than both the others put -together. Not a one left.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The study door behind him was timidly -opened. Caleb did not hear.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not a one left!” he murmured again. -“And——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Is anything the matter, dear?” nervously -queried his wife from the threshold. -“It’s nearly——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>You</em> don’t count!” shouted Caleb Conover, -with odd irrelevance. “Go to bed, -can’t you?”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XII<br /> <span class='large'>CALEB CONOVER FIGHTS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The real campaign was at last under way, -and the Mountain State thrilled as never before -in the history of politics. At a composite -convention made up of the Republican -and lesser parties of the State, and held -almost directly after that of the Democrats, -faction lines were cast aside and Clive Standish -nominated by acclamation. Ansel had -presided, and scores of bolting Democrats -were in attendance.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then, in Granite and throughout the State, -Clive began what is still recalled as his -“whirlwind campaign.” Often ten speeches -a day were delivered as he hurried from point -to point. The reports of his meetings were -sown broadcast, as was other legitimate campaign -literature. Because of the daring and -extraordinary course he had taken, as well -as for the sane, practical reforms he advocated, -he was everywhere listened to with -growing interest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Mountain State was at last awake—awake -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>and hearkening eagerly to the voice -of the man who had roused it from its Rip -Van Winkle slumbers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Horrified, wholly aghast, the Conover lieutenants -had heard their master’s decree that -the press gag was to be removed, and other -customary tactics of the sort abandoned. -None dared to protest. And, after the first -shock, the majority, in their sublime faith, -read in the mandate some mysterious new -manœuvre of the Railroader’s which time -would triumphantly justify.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Meantime, Conover was working as never -before. The very difficulty of the task in -hand evoked all his fighting blood. He would -have preferred to win without so much labor. -But since his ordinary moves were barred, -his soul secretly rejoiced in the prospect of -fair and furious battle. That he would conquer, -as always before, he did not at first -doubt. When he had made his bargain with -Anice Lanier, he had done so confident in his -power to sweep all opposition from his path; -and he had secretly despised the girl for allowing -herself to be duped.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He, on his part, knew he must forego the -“landslide” he had once so confidently hoped -for. But in the stress of later crises, this ambition -had grown quite subservient to his -greater and ever-augmentive longing for election -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>at any terms and on any majority. The -strengthening intensity of this ambition surprised -Conover himself. At first mere pride -had urged him to the office he sought. But -as time went on and new obstacles arose between -him and his goal, that goal waxed daily -more desirable, until at last it filled the whole -vista of his future.</p> - -<p class='c010'>His fingers ever on the pulse of the State, -Caleb therefore noted with annoyance, then -with something akin to dread, the swelling -onrush of Clive’s popularity. To offset it -the Railroader threw himself bodily into the -fight, personally directing and executing -where of old he had only transmitted orders; -toiling like any ward politician; devising -each day new and brilliant tactics for use -against the enemy.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He stuck to the letter of his pledge to Anice. -Its spirit he had never regarded. He was -everywhere and at all hours; now spending -his money like water in the exact quarter -where it would do most good; now propping -up some doubtful corner of the political edifice -he had reared, and again lending the fierce -impetus of his individuality at points where -his followers seemed inclined to lag.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Little as he spared himself, Caleb spared -his henchmen still less. With deadly literalness -he saw to the carrying out of his earlier -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>order that everyone, from Congressman too -bootblack, must put his shoulder to the wheel. -The ward heelers, the privileged lieutenants, -the rural agents and the high officials in the -Machine, alike, were driven as never before. -No stone was left unturned, no chance ignored. -Nor was this all. Forth went the -call to all the hundreds, rich and poor, whom -Conover at various times had privately aided.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The capitalist whose doubtful bill he had -shoved through the Assembly; the coal-heaver -whose wife’s funeral expenses he had paid; -the Italian peddler whose family he had saved -from eviction; the countless poor whom his -secretly-donated coal, clothes and food had -tided over hard winters; the struggling farmer -whose mortgage he had paid; the bartender -he had saved from a murderer’s fate: all -these beneficiaries and more were commanded, -in this hour of stress, to remember -the Boss’s generosity, and to pay the debt by -working for his election.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Checks of vast proportions (drawn ostensibly -for railroad expenses) were cashed by -Shevlin, Bourke and the rest, and the proceeds -hurled into every crevice or vulnerable -spot in the voting phalanx. The pick of the -Atlantic seaboard’s orators were summoned -at their own price, and commissioned to sway -the people to the Machine’s cause. Conover -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>even had wild thoughts of winning favor -with his home-city’s cultured classes by -beautifying Granite’s public gardens with -the erecting of a heroic marble statue of -Ibid (who, he declared, was his favorite poet, -and had more sense than all the rest of the -“Famous Quotation” authors put together). -When at length he was reluctantly convinced -as to “Ibid’s” real meaning, the Railroader -ordered the papers to suppress the proposed -announcement and to substitute one to the -effect that he intended to donate a colossal -figure of Blind Justice for the summit of the -City Hall.</p> - -<p class='c010'>On waged the fight. Disinterested outsiders -beyond the scope of the Machine’s attraction -were daily drawn, by hundreds, into -the Standish camp. In the country districts -his strength grew steadily and rapidly. The -people at large were aroused, not to the usual -pitch of illogical hysteria incident on a movement -of the sort, but to a calm, resolute jealousy -of their own public rights. Which latter -state every politician knows to be immeasurably -the more dangerous of the two.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Conover’s efforts, on the other hand were -already bearing fruit. His tireless energy, -backed by his genius and the perfection of -his system, were hourly enlarging his following. -The “railroad wards” and slums of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>Granite and of other towns were with him -to a man, prepared on Election Day to hurl -mighty cohorts of the Unwashed to the polls -in their idol’s behalf. Loyalty, self-interest, -party allegiance, and more material forms of -pressure were binding throngs of others besides -these underworld denizens to the Conover -standard. Not even the shrewdest non-partisan -dared forecast the result of the -contest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb, colder, harder, less human than ever, -gave no outward sign of the silent warfare -that had torn him during that study-fire vigil -on the night of Anice Lanier’s defection. Beyond -curtly stating that the secretary had -left his service of her own accord, he gave no -information concerning her. He had heard -she was living with an aunt in another part -of town; and twice, with stony face and unrecognizing -eye, he had passed her on the -street, walking with Clive. He had also received -from her a brief, business-like note -telling him that her brother had instructions -to deliver to Conover’s representative, any -time after noon on Election Day, the Denzlow -letters.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was on the eve of election. The campaign -work was done. One way or another, -the story was now told. The last instructions -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>for the next day’s duties had been given. Conover, -returning home from his headquarters, -felt as though the weight of weeks had rolled -off his shoulders. Now that he had done all -mortal man could, he was not, like a weaker -soul, troubled about the morrow. That could -take care of itself. His worrying or not worrying -could not affect the result. Hence, he -did not worry.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As he turned into Pompton Avenue and -started up the long slope crowned by the -garish white marble Mausoleum, his step was -as strong and untired as an athlete’s. On his -frame of steel and inscrutable face the untold -strain of past weeks had left no visible mark.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A few steps in advance of him, and going -in the same direction, slouched a lank, enervated -figure.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Railroader, by the gleam of a street -lamp, recognized Gerald, and moved faster -to catch up with him. At such rare intervals -as he had time to think of domestic affairs, -Caleb was more than a little concerned of late -over the behavior of this only son of his. -Since the visit of his wife to Granite, Gerald’s -demeanor had undergone a change that -had puzzled even his father’s acute mind. -He had waxed listless, taciturn and unnaturally -docile. No command seemed too distasteful -for him to execute uncomplainingly. No -<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>outbreak of rough sarcasm or wrath from -Caleb could draw from him a retort, nor so -much as a show of interest. Conover knew -the lad had taken to drinking heavily and -frequently, but also that Gerald’s deepest potations -apparently had no other outward effect -than to increase his listless apathy.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Partly from malice, partly to rouse the -youth, Conover had thrown upon him many -details of campaign work. To the older man’s -wonderment Gerald had accomplished every -task with a quiet, wholly uninterested competence -that was so unlike his old self as to seem -the labor of another man. More and more, -since Anice’s departure, Conover had come to -lean on Gerald’s help. And now it no longer -astonished him to find such help capably given. -Yet the father was not satisfied.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It ain’t natural,” he said to himself, as he -now overhauled his son. “Ain’t like Jerry. -Something’s the matter with him. He’s getting -to be some use in the world. But he’ll go -crazy, too, if he keeps up those moony ways of -his. He needs a shaking up.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He instituted the shaking-up process in literal -form by a resounding slap between Gerald’s -narrow shoulders. But even this most -maddening of all possible salutations evoked -nothing but a listless “Hello, father,” from -its victim.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>“Start Weaver off for Grafton?” queried -Caleb, falling into step with his son.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Make out any of that padrone list I told -you to frame up for me?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve just finished it. Here it is.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, for a chap like you that list’s a -day’s work by itself! Good boy!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>No reply. Caleb glanced obliquely at the -taciturn lad. The sallow, lean face, with its -dark-hollowed eyes, was expressionless, dull, -apathetic.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Say!” demanded Conover, “what’s the -matter with you, anyhow?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ain’t sick, or anything?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Still grouching over that girl?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My wife? Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ain’t got over it yet? I’ve told you -you’re well out of it. If she’d cared anything -for you she’d never have settled with -my New York lawyer for $60,000 and withdrawn -that fool alienation suit she was starting -against me, or signed that general release. -You’re well out of it. I’ll send you -up to South Dakota after the campaign’s all -over and let you get a divorce on the quiet. -No one around here’ll ever know you was -married, and in the long run the experience -<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>won’t hurt you. You’ve acted pretty decent -lately, Jerry, and I’m not half sorry I -changed my mind on that ‘heavy-father’ -stunt and didn’t kick you out. After all, one -marriage more or less is more of an accident -than a failing, so long as folks don’t let it -get to be a habit. You acted like an idiot. -But bygones are bygones, so cut out the sulks. -Cheap chorus girls weren’t made for grown -men to marry.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll thank you to say nothing against -her,” intervened Gerald stiffly, with the first -faint show of interest his father had observed -in him for weeks.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just as you like,” assented Caleb, in high, -good humor, glad to have broken even so -slightly into the other’s armor of apathy. -“In her case, maybe, least said the better. -So you’re still home-sicking for her—and for -New York, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Still feel your own city ain’t good enough -for you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What place is for a man who has lived -in New York?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Rot! ‘What place is?’ About ten thousand -places! And some seventy million -Americans living in those places are as good -and as happy and stand pretty near as good -a chance of the pearly gates as if they had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>the heaven-sent blessing of living between the -North and East rivers.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was no interest and only absent-minded -query in Gerald’s monosyllable. Listlessness -had again settled over him. Word -and mental attitude jarred on the Railroader.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“New York!” reiterated Conover. “I’ve -took some slight pains to learn a few things -about that place these last couple of months. -Before that I took your word for it that -it was a hectic, electric-lit whirlpool where -nothing ever was quiet or sane, and where a -young cub who could get arrested for smashing -up a hotel lobby was looked up to as -a pillar of gilded society. Since then I’ve -bothered to find out on my own account. -New York’s a city with about two millions -of people living on Manhattan Island alone. -We out-of-town jays are told these two millions -are a gay, abandoned, fashionable lot -that spend their days in the congenial stunt -of piling up fortunes and their nights in -every sort of high jinks that can cost money -and keep ’em up till dawn. ‘All-night fun, -all-day fortune-grabbing. Great place! Come -see it!’ Well, I <em>have</em> seen it. Along around -five or six <span class='fss'>P.M.</span> about ninety-eight per cent. -of those two million people stop work. -They’ve been fortune-grabbing all right, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>since early morning. Only, they’ve been -grabbing it usually for some one else. They -pile onto the subway or the elevated or the big -bridge and—and where do they go? To a -merry old all-night revel on the Great -White Way? To an orgy of ‘On-with-the-dance, -let-joy-be-unrefined,’ hey? Not them. -It’s home they go, quiet and without exhibiting -to the neighbors any season passes for -all-night dissipation. They are as respectable, -decent, orderly, early-to-bed a crowd as -if they lived on a farm. ’Tain’t their fault -if ‘home’s’ usually built on the folding-bed -plan and more condensed than a can of patent -milk. Apart from that, they live just as -everybody else in this country lives—no better, -no worse, no gayer, no quieter. There’s -not a penny’s difference between that decent -ninety-eight per cent. and the business and -working folks right here in Granite.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Gerald did not answer. He had not heard.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s the ‘typical New Yorker,’” went -on Caleb. “The ‘typical New Yorker’—ninety-eight -per cent. of him—is the typical -every-day man or woman of any city. He -does his work, supports his family, and goes -to bed before eleven. Those are the folks I -guess <em>you</em> didn’t see much of when you was -there. Nor of the <em>real</em> society push or even -the climbers. The society headliners are too -<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>few anyhow to count in the general percentage. -Besides, they’re out of town half the -year. <em>You</em> was mostly engaged in playing -‘Easy Mark’ for the other two per cent. -The crowd you went with is the sort that -calls themselves ‘typical New Yorkers,’ and -stays out all-night ’cause they haven’t the -brains to find any other place to go. Just a -dirty little fringe of humanity, hanging about -all-night restaurants or drinking adulterated -booze in some thirst emporium, or spending -some one else’s money in a green-table joint. -They yawn and look sick of life, and they tell -everyone who’ll listen that they’re ‘typical -New Yorkers.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Lord! you might as well say our two -per cent. Chinese population is typical Americans. -First time I ever was in New York -overnight I walked from Ninetieth Street -down to Fourteenth, at about one in the -morning, taking in a few side streets on the -way. I didn’t meet on an average of two -people to the block, and every light was out -in nineteen houses out of twenty. Down -along part of Broadway I saw a few tired, -frowsy-looking folks in big restaurants, and -a few drunks and a girl or two, and some -half a dozen cabs prowling about. That was -‘gay New York by night. Hilarious and -reeskay attractions furnished by typical -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>New Yorkers!’ Whenever I hear that -chestnut about ‘typical New Yorkers,’ I -think of old Baldy Durling up in Campgaw, -who was sixty years old when he went to his -first circus. He stood half an hour in front -of the dromedary’s stall, taking in all its queer -bumps and funny curves, and then he looks -around, kind of defiant at the crowd, and -yells out: ‘Hell! There <em>ain’t</em> no such animal!’”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A polite smile from the dry lips, which Gerald -of late was forever moistening, was the -only reply to this harangue. Caleb gave up -trying to draw the youth into an argument, -and adopted a more business-like tone.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I want you should run down to Ballston -for me soon’s you’ve voted to-morrow, Jerry. -Better take the 7.15 train. I want you to go -to the office of the Ballston <cite>Herald</cite>, and give -a note from me to Bruce Lanier, one of the -editors. He’ll hand you a package. Nothing -that amounts to much, but I’ve paid a big -price for it, so I don’t want it lost. Take good -care of it, and bring it back on the two o’clock -train. Get all the sleep you can to-night. -You’re liable to have a wakeful day.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All right.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The package Lanier’s to give you is just -a bunch of letters about a railroad deal. -Nothing you’d understand. They’re to be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>ready for me any time after noon to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought you wanted me to work at the -polls for you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Anybody that knows how to lie can work -at the polls. There’s nobody but you I can -send for those letters. All the other men I -can trust can’t be spared to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Bruce Lanier,” repeated Gerald idly. -“Any relation to Miss——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Only a relation by marriage. He’s her -brother.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nice sort of girl, always seemed to me. -What’d she leave you for?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She left of her own accord.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So you told me. But why?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Because she got a crazy idea that I was -the original Unpardonable Sinner. And having -made up her mind to it, she natcher’lly -didn’t want her opinions shaken by any remarks -for the defence. So she left.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Gerald did not pursue the subject. He seldom, -indeed, dwelt so long, nowadays, on any -one theme of talk. He moistened his dry lips -once more, sucked at his cigarette and slouched -along in silence. His father asked several -questions that bore on the impending election, -and was answered in monosyllables. The -cigarette burned down to its cork tip, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>Gerald lighted another at its smouldering -stump.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Have a cigar?” suggested Caleb, viewing -this operation with manifest disgust.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, thanks.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s better’n one of those measly connecting -links between fire and a fool,” grunted -Caleb. Gerald puffed on without answering.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I <em>said</em>,” repeated Caleb, a little louder, -“the rankest Flor de Garbage campaign -cigar, with a red-and-yaller surcingle around -its waist, is<a id='t262'></a> a blamed sight better’n any Cairo, -Illinois, Egyptian cig’rette. Is there five -minutes a day when you’re not smoking one?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“’Tain’t good for any man, smoking so -much as that, ’spesh’ly a man with a boy’s -size chest like yours. Stunts the growth, too, -I hear, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve got my growth.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You sure have,” agreed Caleb, looking -up and down his son’s weedy length, “and -you’d ’a’ had still more if so much of you -hadn’t been turned up for feet. Well, smoke -away and drink away, too, if you like. I’m -not responsible for you. Only you’ll smash -up or turn queer one of these days if you don’t -look out. Is it the booze or the near-tobacco -that makes your lips all dry like that? Neither -of ’em usually has that effect. Your hands -<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>are wet and cold all the time, too. Better see -a doctor, hadn’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, I’m all right,” said the lad wearily.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb looked in doubt at his listless companion, -seemed inclined to say more on the -subject, then changed his mind.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Be ready for the 7.15 to-morrow morning,” -he ordered as they mounted the broad -marble steps of the Mausoleum. “Turn in -early and get a good rest. Lord! I hope this -drizzle will turn into rain before morning. -Nothing like a rainy election day to drown -reform. The honest heeler would turn out -in a blizzard to earn his two dollars by voting, -but a sprinkle will scare a Silk Socker -from the polls easier’n a——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The great door was swung open. Outlined -against the lighted hall behind it was Mrs. -Conover. She had seen their approach, and -had hastened out into the veranda to meet -them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hello!” exclaimed the Railroader. -“This is like old times! Must be twenty -years since you came out to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Caleb!” sobbed the little woman, and -as the light for the first time fell athwart her -face, they saw she was red-eyed and blotched -of cheek from much weeping. “Oh, Caleb, -how long you’ve been! I telephoned the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>Democratic Club an hour ago, and they said -you’d just——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What’s the row?” broke in her bewildered -husband. “Afraid I’d been ate by -your big nephew, or——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t, don’t joke! Something dreadful’s -happened. I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then come into the library and tell us -about it quiet,” interrupted Caleb, “unless -maybe you’re aiming to call in the servants -later for advice.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The footman behind Mrs. Conover, at the -door, tried to look as though he had heard -nothing, and bitterly regretted he had not -been allowed to hear more. But Letty was -silenced as she always was when the Railroader -adopted his present tone. She obediently -scuttled down the hall toward the library, -an open letter fluttering in her hand. -Caleb followed; and, at a word from his father, -Gerald accompanied his parents.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As soon as the library door closed behind -the trio, Mrs. Conover’s grief again rose from -subdued sniffling to unchecked tears.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, talk out, can’t you!” growled Conover. -“What’s up? That letter there? -Is——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” gurgled poor Letty, torn between -the luxury of weeping and the fear of offending -Caleb, “it’s—it’s from Blanche at Lake -<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>Como, and—and—Oh, she isn’t married at -all—and——!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“WHAT?” roared Conover. Even Gerald -dropped his cigarette.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s—it’s <em>true</em>, Caleb!” wailed Letty. -“She isn’t. And——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What are you blithering about? Here!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Conover snatched the letter and glanced -over it. Then with a snort he thrust it back -into his wife’s hand.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“French!” he sniffed, in withering contempt. -“Why in hell can’t the girl write her -own language, so folks can understand what -she’s——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She’s always written her letters to me in -French ever since she was at school in Passy. -They told her it——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Never mind what they told her. What’s -the letter say? Ain’t married? Why——!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She <em>was</em> married. But she isn’t. -And——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You talk like a man in a cave. Is d’Antri -dead, or——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Her husband’s frenzied impatience, as -usual, served to drive the cowed little rabbit-like -woman into worse agonies of incoherence. -But by degrees, and through dint of -much questioning, the whole sordid petty -tragedy related in the Como postmarked letter -was at length extracted from her.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>Blanche, thanks to her heavy dower and -her prince’s family connections, had cut more -or less of a swath in certain strata of continental -society during these early days of -her stay in d’Antri’s world. Her husband’s -ancestral rock with its tumble-down castle -had been bought back, and the edifice itself -put into course of repair. A bijou little house -on the Parc Monceau and a palazzo at Florence -had been added to the Conover fortune’s -purchases, and at each of these latter abodes -a gaudy fête had been planned, to introduce -the American princess and her dollars to the -class of people who proposed henceforth to -endure the one for the sake of the other.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then, according to the letter, a château -on the north shore of Como had been rented -for the autumn months. Here the bride and -groom had dwelt in Claude Melnotte fashion -for barely a week when another woman appeared.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The newcomer was a singer formerly employed -at the Scala, but now just returned -from a prolonged South American tour. Her -voice had given out, and, faced by poverty, -she had prudently unearthed certain proofs to -the effect that, twelve years earlier, she had -secretly married Prince Amadeo d’Antri, -then a youth of twenty-two.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Thus equipped, she had descended on the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>happy pair, and a most painful scene had -ensued. D’Antri, confronted with the documents, -had made no denial, but had tearfully -assured Blanche that he had supposed the -woman dead. Be this as it might, the first -wife had been so adamantine as to refuse -with scorn the rich allowance d’Antri offered -her, and had carried the matter to the Italian -courts.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There it was promptly decided that, as -Amadeo’s princely title was chiefly honorary, -and carried no royal prerogatives of morganatic -unions, the first marriage held.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So I am without a home and without a -name,” laboriously translated Letty, punctuating -her daughter’s written sentences -with snuffle and moan. “What am I to -do? Poor Amadeo is disconsolate. It would -break your heart to witness his grief. But -he cannot help me. Most of our ready money -has gone into the houses we have bought and -other necessaries. The bulk of my dot is, of -course, deeded to Amadeo, according to continental -custom, and it seems the poor fellow’s -ignorance of finance has led him to invest -it in such a way that for the present it -is all tied up. I am without money, without -friends. <em>Helas!</em> I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“In other words,” interpolated Caleb, -“he’s got her cash nailed down, and now he’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>kicking her out dead broke, while he and the -other woman——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I start to-morrow for Paris,” continued -the letter. “I have just about money enough -to get me there, and I shall stay with the Pages -until you can send for me. Oh, Mother, <em>please</em> -make it all right with Father if you can. -Don’t let him blame poor Amadeo. You know -how Father always——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, go on!” commanded the Railroader -grimly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s about all,” faltered Letty. “The -rest is just——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A eulogy on the old man, eh? Let it go -at that. Now——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, what <em>are</em> we to do?” drivelled the -poor woman, sopping her eyes. “And all -the——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All the splurge we made, and the way -our dutiful girl was going to boost us into the -Four Hundred?” finished Caleb. “Thank -the Lord, it comes too late for a campaign -document! But I guess it about wrecks my -last sneaking hope of landing on the social -hay-pile. Never mind that part of it now. -We’ll have all the rest of our lives to kick ourselves -over the way we’ve been sold. And I’ll -give myself the treat, as soon as I can get -away, of running over to Yurrup and having -Friend d’Antri sent to jail for bigamy and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>treated real gentle and loving while he’s there, -if a million-dollar tip to the right politicians -in Italy will do it. And I guess it will. But I -<em>can’t</em> get away till after this election business -is all cleared up. And Blanche’s got to be -brought home right off. Jerry!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>His son’s momentary interest in the family -crisis had already lapsed. He was sitting, -stupid, glazed of eye, staring at the floor. At -his father’s call he glanced up.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’ll have to go to Paris for her,” went -on Conover, “and bring her back. Take the -next steamer. There’s boats sailing on most -of the lines Wednesdays. Let’s see, this is -Monday. Go to Ballston, as you were going -to, to-morrow morning. Get that package -from Lanier, and send it to me from there by -registered mail. Be sure to have it registered. -Then catch the afternoon train to -New York. That ought to get you in by five-thirty -or six. I’ll telegraph Wendell to-night -to find out what’s the fastest steamer -sailing next morning, and tell him to take -passage for you. Hunt him up as soon as -you reach town. And sleep on board the -boat. That’ll cut out any chance of your -missing it. Bring Blanche back here to us -by the earliest steamer from France or England -that you can get. And while you’re in -Paris, if you can hire some one on the quiet -<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>to drop over into Italy and put d’Antri into -the accident ward of some dago hospital for -a month or two, I don’t mind paying five -thousand for the job. Come up to my study, -and I’ll fix you up financially for the trip, -and give you that note to Bruce Lanier.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Gerald heard and nodded assent to the -rapped-out series of directions with as little -emotion as though commanded to transmit -some campaign message to Billy Shevlin. -His father, noting the quiet attention and response, -was pleased therewith. And the latent -fondness and trust which were slowly -placing his recent contempt for his only and -once adored son, perceptibly increased.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As the two men left the room, Mrs. Conover -looked lovingly after Gerald through -her tears.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Poor dear boy!” she soliloquized. -“He’s getting to be quite his old bright self -again. When Caleb mentioned his going to -New York his eyes lighted up just the way -they used to when he was little.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>All unaware that she had detected something -which even the Railroader’s vigilance -had overlooked, the good woman once more -abandoned herself to the joys of a new and -delightfully unrestrained fit of weeping.</p> - -<p class='c010'>When at last she and her husband were together, -alone, that night, Mrs. Conover had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>some thought of commenting upon that fleeting -expression she had caught on Gerald’s -face. But Caleb was so immersed in his own -unpleasant thoughts she lacked the courage -to intrude upon his reflections.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Which is rather a pity, for had she done so, -the inefficient little woman might have changed -the history of the Mountain State.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIII<br /> <span class='large'>THE FOURTH MESSENGER OF JOB</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The rain Caleb Conover had so eagerly desired -as a check on fair weather reformers’ -Election Day zeal began soon after midnight, -and with it a gale that is still remembered as -the “Big November Wind.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The wind-whips lashed the many-windowed -Mausoleum, and the roar and swirl of -dashing water echoed from roof and veranda-cover. -The autumn gale-blasts set the naked -trees to creaking and groaning like sentient -things. Here and there a huge branch was -ripped from its trunk and ploughed a gash -in the lawn’s withered turf. More than one -maple and ash on the Conover grounds crashed -to earth with a rending din that was drowned -in the howl of the storm.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A belated equinoctial was sweeping the -Mountain State, driven on the breath of a tornado -such as not one year in twenty can record, -east of the Mississippi. Its screaming -onset unroofed houses, tore up forest giants, -wrecked telegraph lines, buffeted fragile -<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>dwellings to their fall and dissolved hayricks -into miles of flying wisps.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Yet none of the three members of the Conover -family, sheltered within the Mausoleum, -were awakened by the bellow of the cyclone, -for none were asleep. Letty, alone in her -great, hideous bedroom, lay alternately praying -and weeping in maudlin comfortlessness -over her absent daughter; and at sound of the -hubbub outside wept the more and prayed -with an added terror.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Gerald, despite the early start he must -make in the morning, was still dressed, and -was slouching back and forth in his suite of -apartments, muttering occasionally to himself, -and at other times pausing to gaze lifelessly -ahead of him. As the ever-louder voice of the -storm broke in on his thoughts, he stopped -short in his aimless march, his dry lips twitching -and on his face the nervous terror of a -suddenly awakened child. He shambled into -an inner chamber, unlocked and opened a -drawer in his chiffonier, fumbled for a moment -or two with something he took therefrom, -then closed and locked the drawer and -returned to the light. In a few moments the -nervousness had died out of his face and -bearing, and with a return of his habitual -listless air he had resumed his walk.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb Conover, stretched on a camp-bed in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>the corner of his study, smiled contentedly as -the rain beat in torrents on the panes. But -when the gale waxed fiercer and the rain at -last ceased, he frowned.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Going to blow off clear and cold after -all!” he grumbled, turning over. “And the -Weather Bureau’s the only one that can’t be -‘fixed.’”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But even the shriek of the storm could not -long hold his attention. The Railroader was -vaguely troubled as to himself. Heretofore, -like Napoleon’s, his steel will had been able -to dictate to Nature as imperiously as to his -fellow-man. When he had commanded the -presence of Sleep, the drowsy god had hastened -on the moment to do his bidding. He -had slumbered or awakened at wish. On the -eve of his greatest crisis he had been unable -to sleep like a baby. Yet for the past few -weeks he had been aware of a subtle change. -Sleep had deserted him, even as had so much -else that he had loftily regarded as his to -command.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He had acquired an unpleasant habit of -lying awake for hours in that big lonely -study of his, of seeking in vain to recover his -old-time power of perfect self-mastery. -Thought, Memory, Unrest—a trio that never -could unduly assail him in saner hours—now -had a way of rushing in upon the insomniac -<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>with the extinguishing of the last light. To-night -these unwelcomed guests were lingering -still longer than usual, and all the Conover’s -dominating will power failed to banish -them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At length he gave over the struggle and let -his vagrant fancies have their will. Was he -growing old, he wondered, that his forces—mental, -physical and political—thus wavered?</p> - -<p class='c010'>Worry? He had heard others complain of -it, and he had laughed at them. Nerves? -Those were for women. Not for a man with -an eighteen-inch neck. Then what ailed -him? He had been this way ever since—ever -since—Yes, it was the night Anice Lanier -left that he had first lain awake.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Anice Lanier! He had never analyzed his -feelings toward her. He had been dully satisfied -to know that in her presence he ever had -an unwonted feeling of content, of sure knowledge -that she would understand; that she was -as unlike his general idea of women as he -himself differed from his equally contemptuous -estimate of other men; that he was at his -best with her. Had he been less practical -and more given to hackneyed phrases of -thought, he would have said she inspired him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But now? The Railroader could not yet -force himself to dwell on the jarring end of -all that. He tried to think of something else. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>Blanche? Yes, <em>there</em> was a nice sort of complication, -wasn’t it? Another international -marriage and the usual ending thereof.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“These foreigners can give us poor Yankee -jays cards and spades at the bunco game!” -he mused, half-admiringly. “They beat -<em>our</em> ‘con’ men hands down, for they don’t -even need to pay out cash in manufacturing -green goods and gold bricks, and they don’t -get jugged when they’re found out. When’ll -American girls get sense? When their parents -do, I presume.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And this unwelcome answer to his own -question brought him back to the memory of -his joy at hearing of Blanche’s proposed -marriage to d’Antri. It had seemed to him -to set the capstone of fulfilment to his social -yearnings. As father of a princess, he had -in fancy seen himself at last exalted amid the -close-serried ranks of that class to whom only -his wealth had heretofore entitled him to ingress. -And money—even <em>his</em> money—had -failed to act as <em>open sesame</em>. But surely as -father-in-law to a prince——</p> - -<p class='c010'>Even the very patent fiasco attendant on -his one effort to use this relationship as a -master key to the portals of society had not -wholly discouraged him. Later, when, practically -by acclamation, he should have won -the Governorship, and when the Princess -<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>d’Antri’s European triumphs should be -noised abroad in Granite, surely <em>then</em>——</p> - -<p class='c010'>But now there was no question of acclamation. -If he should win it would be by bare -margin. He knew that. And, as for Blanche—well, -if he could keep the worst of the scandal -out of the American papers and make -people think his daughter had come home -merely because her husband abused her, or -because she was tired of her surroundings—if -he could achieve this much it would be the -best he could expect.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Gerald, too; he had hoped so much from -the boy’s glittering New York connections. -Now <em>that</em> illusion was forever gone. Though -his son’s more recent behavior had in a slight -measure softened the hurt to paternal pride -and hope, yet the hurt itself, Caleb knew, -must always remain. And that particular -pride and hope were forever dead.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Railroader was not in any sense a religious -devotee. For appearance sake, however, -and to add still further force to his -liberal gifts to the Catholic clergy, he semi-occasionally -attended mass at the Cathedral. -He also, for other reasons, occupied now and -then, with Letty, his higher-priced pew in -the Episcopal church of St. Simeon Stylites, -religious rendezvous of Granite’s smart set.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At one of these two places of worship—he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>could not now remember which—and, after -all, it didn’t matter—he had heard, some -time recently, a Scripture reading that had -held his attention more closely than did most -passages of the sort. It was a story of some -man—he could not remember whom—the recital -of whose continued and unmerited ill-luck -had stamped itself on the hearer’s mind. -The man had been rich, prosperous, happy. -Then one day four messengers had come to -him in swift succession, with tales of disaster -to goods and family, each narration telling -of worse misfortunes than had its predecessor. -And the fourth had left its recipient -stripped of wealth and family.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In a quaint twist of thought Conover, as -he lay staring up into the dark and listening -to the noisy rage of the storm, fell to fitting -the biblical story to his own case.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The first message I got,” he reflected, becoming -grimly entertained in his own analogy, -“knocked over my plans for Jerry. -Then the second stole from me the only square -woman I ever knew and all my chances of a -campaign walkover. The third smashed my -idees for Blanche, and for making a hit in -society. The fourth—well, I guess the fourth -ain’t showed up yet. Will it clean me out -when it <em>does</em> come, I wonder, like it did the -feller in the Bible? Let’s see, <em>he</em> had a whiny -<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>fool for a wife, too, if I remember it straight. -Yes, there’s a whole lot of points in common -between me and him. I wonder if he ever -run for any office. How was it all those messages -of his wound up? ‘And—and I only -am escaped alone to tell thee.’ That was it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I wonder was he the same chap that had -all those devils cast out of him. I don’t just -remember, but whoever it was that had ’em -cast out, I’d like to ’a’ known him, for he -was a <em>man</em>. Most folks’ natures ain’t big -enough to hold a single half-size devil, let -alone a whole crowd of ’em. If that Bible -chap had all those it showed he was a man -enough to hold ’em. And if only one of ’em -had been cast out it’d ’a’ been a bigger thing -he did than it would be for a dozen ordinary -men to turn into saints. Maybe I’m a little -bit like <em>that</em> feller, too.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>After which plunge into the theological exegesis—the -first and last whereof he ever was -guilty—Caleb Conover turned his thoughts -to the morrow’s election, and thus communed -with himself till dawn caught him open-eyed -and unsleepy, his splendid strength and -energy in nowise diminished by forty-eight -hours of wakefulness.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was a tattered, desolate world that met -the Railroader’s eyes as he gazed down from -his window across the broad grounds and over -<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>the city that lay at their foot. The wind had -fallen, and a pink-gray light was filling the -clean-swept sky. Nature seemed ashamed to -look on the results of her own violence, for -the dawnlight crept timidly over the sleeping -houses.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Everywhere were strewn signs of the hurricane. -Tree branches, toppled chimneys, unroofed -shanties, swaths of telegraph and telephone -wires, overturned fences; these and a -thousand other proofs of the gale’s brief -power lay broadcast throughout Granite’s -streets.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And, with the first glimmers in the east, the -people of city and State were afoot, for history -was to be made. Election Day had begun.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Midnight had again come around. The -election was long since over, yet the city did -not ring with the uproar incident on such affairs. -For the result was not yet known. The -storm of the previous night had cut off -telegraph and telephone communication in -twenty parts of the Mountain State. Granite -itself was isolated. Hundreds of mechanics -were at work repairing the various -lines of broken wire and replacing overthrown -poles. But the work had not yet sufficiently -progressed to allow the full transmission of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>election returns from the up-State counties.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Train service remained unimpaired, save -for an occasional broken trestle on one or -two of the minor branches of the C. G. & X. -And since nightfall some of the returns had -been brought to Granite by rail, but these -merely proved the closeness of the conflict, -and gave no true hint as to the actual outcome. -The Granite vote was all in, hours ago. -From the slums and the dark places of the -city’s underworld the long-trained servants -of the Machine had swarmed to the polls, -overwhelming all opposition from the smaller -and more respectable element, and had carried -Granite tumultuously for Conover.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Railroader, with a dozen or more men—district -leaders, ward captains and picked -adherents of his own—sat about the big centre -table of his study, an Arthur, somewhat -changed in the modernizing and surrounded -by equally altered Paladins. A telegraph -operator sat at an instrument in a far corner -of the room, jotting down and carrying -to the table such few despatches as were at -last beginning to trickle in. At Conover’s -left a ticker purred forth infrequent lengths -of message-laden tape.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The table was littered with papers, yellow -sheets of “flimsy,” bottles, glasses and open -cigar boxes. The henchmen lounged about, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>drinking and smoking in nervous suspense, -fighting over again the day’s battle, and hazarding -innumerable diverse opinions on the -bearing each new despatch would have on the -general result. All were in a greater or less -state of tension, and relieved it by frequent -resource to the battalion of bottles that dotted -the board.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Conover, alone of them all, touched no liquor. -Before him was a big cup of black coffee, -which a noiseless-treading footman entered -the room every few minutes to renew.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ain’t that li’ble to keep you awake to-night, -Boss?” asked Shevlin, as he watched -the fourth cupful vanish at a swallow.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It don’t bother me any more,” returned -Caleb, “I’m too used to it. But I can remember -when a single cup of it at Sunday -morning breakfast would make me so I -couldn’t sleep a wink all church time. I’d -toss from one end of my pew to the other the -whole morning. I couldn’t seem to drowse no -matter how long Father Healy’s sermon was. -’Nother county heard from?” as the operator -laid a message before him. “Read it, -Billy.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Delayed in transmission,” spelled Shevlin. -“Jericho County, with two precincts -missing, gives Conover 7,239, Standish 4,895.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>A yell went around the table. Bourke -scribbled hurriedly on a pad, then announced:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That offsets the Standish lead in Haldane -by 780. Two to one you’ve got Bowden, -too.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A purr from the ticker, and Caleb caught -up the tape.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This machine don’t agree with you,” he -reported. “Bowden complete gives me 5,861 -and Standish 6,312. That cuts us down a -bit.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Did you ever see such a rag-time ’lection!” -growled Shevlin. “It’s like a seesaw -board. One minute it’s you, and the next -minute it ain’t. What’s the hay-eaters up-State -thinkin’ about, anyhow? A year ago -they’d no more ’a’ dared to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A year’s a long time, son, in a country -that makes a hero to order one day and puts -him into the discard the next.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, if you’d ’a’ only just let us work like -we always have before! We’d ’a’ sent this -Standish person screechin’ up a tree. He’d -’a’ thought a whale had bit him! But with all -this amachoor line of drorin’-room stunts -at the polls an’ givin’ him the chance to——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s <em>my</em> business,” replied Caleb. -“Cut it out.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And Billy relapsed into grumbling incoherence. -Nor did any of the rest dare voice -<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>their equally strong opinions on the subject -of Conover’s recent mystifying campaign tactics. -Had a less powerful Boss dictated and -carried out such a senselessly honest plan of -battle, his leadership would have ended with -the issuance of his first order. Impregnable -as had been Conover’s position in the machine, -he himself well knew he had strained -his power and influence well-nigh to the breaking -point. Should he, in spite of his self-confidence -and the wondrous skill he had employed -along this new line of warfare, lose -the day——</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Coming in better now,” remarked the -operator after a fusillade of clicks had held -his attention to the instrument for a minute -or two. “They’ve got the lines patched up -enough to allow you straight service. The -stuff’ll all be here in a rush pretty soon.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Here comes some more ticker reports!” -cried Staatz, leader of the Third District, and -strongest man, next to Conover himself, in all -the Machine. “Why can’t it hurry up? -Here—‘Pompton County complete gives -Conover 28,042, Standish 6,723.’”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Another and louder yell from the tableful, -and a battering of bottles and glasses on the -board. Conover alone sat calm through the -din. Bourke again did rapid figuring.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hooray!” he yelled. “That brings it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>up all right. Pompton County and the city -of Granite together give you enough plurality -to stall all the jay counties except——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It hangs on the one city of Grafton now,” -interposed Caleb, who had as usual gripped -the whole situation before his lieutenant had -jotted down the first line of figures. “We’ve -got enough reports to bring it up to that. -We know where we stand everywhere else, -except in a few places too small to count. As -Grafton goes, the State will go. That’s a -cinch.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s right,” admitted Bourke after another -spasm of ciphering. “But how’d you -get onto us when the rest of us——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If I didn’t get onto things before the -rest of you did, one of you would be sitting at -the head of this table instead of me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Railroader glanced, as by accident, toward -Staatz, who coughed raucously and -plunged at once into talk.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Pete Brayle tried to backtrack us on the -sly in Pompton County, I hear,” said the -latter. “Thought it’d get him a soft place -in the reform gang in case they won. A lot of -good it did him.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Brayle’s always looking for soft places,” -observed Caleb dryly. “And he ain’t the -only one. Such fellers gen’rally end up in a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>soft place, all right. Only it’s apt to be a -swamp, and that’s——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Jericho County complete returns,” translated -the operator aloud, as his machine began -again to click out its news, “Conover -7,910, Standish 5,495.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why don’t we hear from Grafton?” -asked Staatz.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“They’re patching up the connection now,” -answered the operator. “It’s farthest city -on the line. You’ve got all the rest of the returns -from its county.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That place is a regular nest of reformers, -from the mayor down,” commented Bourke. -“And besides, Standish won a lot of votes by -his grand-stand scrap in the op’ra house -there last month. It looks bad.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Most reform places do after they’ve tried -a dose of their own medicine for awhile,” answered -Caleb. “But we’ve spent enough -good dough there to square the whole noble -army of martyrs. I guess Grafton’s O. K.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Boss,” said Billy Shevlin, “you’re the -only man in this whole shootin’ match what -ain’t all hectic over this fight. An’ you’re the -one man who’s <em>It</em> or out in th’ woolly white -snow accordin’ to th’ way that genial beast of -prey th’ free an’ independent an’ otherwise -bought-up voters jumps. Ain’t you worried -none?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>“What good’d that do? No use paying -twice, if there’s anything to worry about. -And if there ain’t, what’s the use of wasting -a lot of good anxiety? Start my phonograph -going.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Phonograph?” hotly protested Staatz. -“At a time like this, when everything hangs -on the next half hour and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well,” drawled Caleb, and if his words -were light, his steady eyes fixed the district -leader’s vexed gaze as a wasp might pierce -an angry, blundering bumblebee, “I don’t -believe the voters of the Mountain State’ll -rise in arms to any extent and demand a new -election and a new Boss just because they -hear I wanted a little music. I like the -phonograph. It’s the only musical instrument -I ever had time to learn to play. And -it’s the only one that’ll play over the pieces -I like as often as I want to hear ’em, and -won’t make me listen to a lot of opera war-whoops -in Dutch and Dago. But, say, Staatz, -I’m not forcing other folks to listen to it. If -you’re not stuck on the way I amuse myself, -there ain’t nobody exactly imploring you to -stay on here.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Staatz, his red face redder than its wont, -and his great gray mustache abristle at the -Railroader’s tone and look, nevertheless -mumbled some apology. But Caleb did not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>hear him out. He broke in on the words with -a curt nod, then said to Shevlin:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Start it up, Billy. Any old tune’ll do. -There’s none there but the kind I like. Might -try——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Again the footman came in. This time not -with coffee, but with a card.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought I told Gaines I wasn’t to be -broke in on this evening,” began Conover, -glowering at the intruder. “Say I can’t see -anyone. I’m busy, and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He had taken the card as he spoke. Now, -as he read it, his order trailed off into perplexed -silence, even as Billy Shevlin, his -face one big grin at Staatz’s discomfiture, -started the phonograph on the classic strains -of “Everybody Works but Father.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Turn off that measly racket!” roared -Caleb. “Ain’t you got any better sense than -to go fooling with toys a time like this? I’ll -be back in a few minutes, boys. My New -York lawyer wants me for something.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He left the study and hurried downstairs -to where, in the hall, a man stood awaiting -him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come in here, Wendell,” directed the -Railroader, shaking hands with his new -guest, and leading the way to the library. -“What’re you doing in this part of the country? -Glad to see you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>“I bring you bad news—very bad news, I -am afraid,” began the lawyer as Conover -closed the library door behind them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I know that,” snapped Caleb. “I knew -it as soon as I saw your face, but I didn’t -want you shouting it out in the hall where -my butler could hear you. That’s why I—well, -what is it? Tell me, can’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Your son——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, Jerry, of course. I knew that, too. -But what’s he done this time?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This is, as I said, a very serious——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good Lord, man! I didn’t s’pose you’d -took a four-hour train ride from New York -a night like this to tell me he’d won a ping -pong prize or joined the Y. M. C. A. The -chap that’s got to have news broke to him -has a head too thick for truth to be let into -it any other way. Don’t stand there like a -lump of putty. What’s up?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The lawyer, flushing at the coarse invective, -spared the father no longer. He spoke, -and to the point.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Your son,” he said, “is in the West -Thirtieth Street police station on a charge of -murder.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Conover looked at him without a start, -without visible emotion. For a full half -minute he made no reply, no comment. Nor -did his light, keen eyes flicker or turn aside.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>Then—and Wendell feared from his words -that the tidings had turned Caleb’s brain—the -Railroader muttered, half to himself:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘And I only am escaped alone to tell -thee.’”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIV<br /> <span class='large'>CALEB CONOVER LOSES AND WINS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>“I don’t quite understand,” ventured the -puzzled lawyer.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Neither do I,” said Caleb. “Tell me your -story as brief as you can.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Your son reached town a little after six -o’clock this evening,” answered Wendell. -“It seems he went directly to a restaurant in -the theatre district of Broadway, a place frequented -by men of a certain class and by the -women they take there. It was early, but on -account of the election night fun to come later -many people were already dining. Gerald -afterward told me he went there in the hope -of catching a glimpse of his former wife. He -saw her there. With her was a man she had -known before she met your son, a bookmaker -named Stange, whom Gerald—or Gerald’s -money—had originally won her from, and for -whom he always, it appears, retained some -jealousy. Gerald walked straight up to the -table where they sat, drew a revolver and -fired four times point-blank in Stange’s face. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>Any one of the shots by itself would have been -fatal. Then he tossed the revolver to a waiter -and spent the time until the police arrived in -trying to console this Montmorency woman -and to quiet her hysterics. They took him -to the Tenderloin station and he got the police -to telephone for me. I found him in a state of -semi-collapse. A police surgeon was working -over him. Heart failure brought on by excitement. -His heart was already in a depressed, -weakened state, the surgeon said, -from an overdose of morphine. The poor -boy apparently was in the habit of taking it, -for they found a case with a hypodermic -syringe and tablets in his pocket. And one -of his arms——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So that was the ‘third thing’ beside -booze and cigarettes?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was Caleb’s first interruption. During -the recital of his son’s crime he had stood motionless, -expressionless. Not until this trivial -detail was reached had he spoken. And even -now his voice was as emotionless as was his -face. The inscrutable Spartan quiet that -had so often left his business and political -opponents in the dark was now upon him. -Wendell saw and wondered. Mistaking the -other’s mental attitude for the first daze of -horror, he resumed:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He came around in a few minutes. I did -<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>what I could for him. Then I tried to reach -you by long-distance telephone. But the -wires were down all through this State. I -had no better fortune in telegraphing. So I -caught the eight-ten train and came straight -here. I thought you ought to be told at once, -so that——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Quite so. Thank you. It was very white. -I’m sorry I was so brisk with you awhile ago.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The lawyer stared. Conover was talking -as though a mere financial matter were involved. -Still supposing his client suffering -from shock that dulled his sensibilities, Wendell -continued:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Morphine and jealousy combining to -cause temporary insanity. That must be our -line of defence. You agree with me of -course?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Suit yourself. I’ll stand by whatever -you suggest.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The lawyer drew out his watch.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Twelve forty-five,” he said. “The New -York express passes through Granite at one -twenty. We’ll have plenty of time to catch -it. If you will get ready at once, we’ll start. -We can discuss details during the trip.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘We’?” echoed Caleb. “What d’ye -mean? <em>I’m</em> not going to New York with -you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mr. Conover!” exclaimed Wendell, shaking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>his inert host by the shoulder to rouse -him from his apparent stupor, “you don’t -realize! Gerald is in a cell on a murder -charge. To-morrow he will be sent to the -Tombs—our city prison—to remain until his -case comes up. Then he will be tried for his -life and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I know all about the course of such -things. You don’t need to tell me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But this is a life-and-death matter!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, if <em>I</em> can keep cool over it, I presume -<em>you</em> can, can’t you? It’s very kind of -you to explain all this to me, but it ain’t -necessary. I understand everything you’ve -told me, and I understand a lot you’ve overlooked. -For instance, the pictures that’ll be -in all to-morrow’s evening papers of my boy -on his way to the Tombs, handcuffed to a -plain-clothes man, and pictures of that chorus -woman of his in all sorts of poses, and pictures -of the ‘stricken father’—that’s me—and -Letty figuring as the ‘aged mother, heart-broke -at her son’s crime.’ And my daughter -and her—the Prince d’Antri. And my house -and a diagram of the restaurant where the -shooting was done. And there’ll be interviews -with the Montmorency thing and accounts -of her being brave and visiting Jerry in the -Tombs. And a maynoo of what he’ll have for -Thanksgiving dinner in his cell. And——”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>“I’ll do what I can to prevent publicity. -I——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’ll do nothing of the sort. What happens -in public the public has a right to read -about. If Jerry’s dragged us into the limelight, -can we kick if the papers let folks see -us there?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But surely——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s the easiest part of it. I’ve got to -face my wife with this story. Not to-night, -but to-morrow anyhow. Sweet job, eh? A -white man don’t enjoy squashing the life out -of even a guinea-pig in cold blood, let alone -a boy’s mother. And reporters’ll begin coming -here by sunrise for interviews, and -folks’ll be staring at us in the street and -offering their measly sympathy and then running -off to tell the neighbors how we took it. -And every paper we pick up will be full of -the ‘latest d’vel’pments’ and all that. And -those of us who know Jerry will get into the -pleasing habit of remembering what a cute, -friendly kid he used to be when he was little, -and the great things we used to dream he’d -do when he grew up, and how we hustled so’s -he’d have as good a chance in life as any -young feller on earth. And then we’ll remember -he’s waiting in jail to be tried for -murdering a chorus slattern’s lover, and all -the black, filthy shame he’s put on decent -<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>folks that was fools enough to love him, and -the way he’s fulfilled them silly hopes of -ours. Oh, yes, Wendell, I guess I ‘realize,’ -all right, all right. I don’t need no ‘wakening -sense.’ But maybe I’ve made it clear to -you now why it is I don’t go cavorting off by -the next train to console and cheer up the boy -who’s brought this on us. I don’t just -hanker——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t take that tone, I beg, sir!” -pleaded the lawyer, deeply pained by what -underlay the father’s half-scoffing, ironical -tirade. “He may live it down. He is only -twenty-four. The jury will surely be lenient. -After all, there’s the ‘unwritten law’ -and——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And of all the slimy rot ever thought up -by a paretic’s brain, that same ‘unwritten -law’ is about the rankest specimen,” snarled -Caleb. “By the time a man’s learned to live -up to all the <em>written</em> laws, I guess he won’t -have a hell of a lot of leisure left to go moseying -around among the unwritten ones. Whenever -a coward takes a pot-shot at some one -within half a mile of a petticoat, up goes the -‘unwritten law’ scream. Use it if you like -in the trial, but for God’s sake cut out such -hypocritical bosh when you’re talking to <em>me</em>. -‘Unwritten law!’ Why don’t the Legislature -take a day off and write it?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>“Then you won’t come with me to town?” -asked the lawyer, with another covert glance -at his watch.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come with you and tell Jerry how sorry I -am for him, and how I sympathize with him -for killing his mother—for that’s what it’ll -come to—and for wrecking a name I’ve spent -all my life building up for him, and for making -me the shame of all my friends? No, -Wendell, I guess I’ll have to deprive him of -that treat. I’ll think up later what’s best -to do about him. In the meantime get him -acquitted.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Acquitted? That is not so easy. But——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not so easy? Why ain’t it? Didn’t I tell -you to draw on me for all you wanted? I’ve -got somewhere between forty and fifty millions -all told. The jury don’t live this side of -the own-your-own-cloud suburbs of heaven -that hasn’t at least one man on it that $100,000 -will buy. If not that, then $1,000,000. I’ll -leave the details to you. Buy enough jurors -to ‘hang’ every verdict till they get tired of -trying Jerry and turn him loose to save the -State further expense. If a murderer ain’t -convicted on his first trial, it’s a cinch he’s -never going to be on his second or third. -Now, it’s up to you to buy that drawn verdict -for the first trial, and then for the others -till they acquit him or parole him in your custody. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>It’s been done before, and it’ll be done -again. This ain’t a ‘life-and-death matter’ -as you called it. It’s a question of dollars -and cents. And as long as I’ve got enough of -those same dollars and cents, no boy of mine’s -going to the death-chair or to life imprisonment -either. You’ll have to hustle for that -train. If you miss it, come back and I’ll put -you up for the night.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Tense excitement, as was lately his way, -had made the formerly taciturn Railroader -voluble. He now, as frequently since the -night of his speech at the reception, noted this, -himself, with a vague surprise.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If Jerry wants any ready money, just -now——” he began, as he escorted the lawyer -to the door.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He seems to have plenty for any immediate -needs,” returned Wendell. “I saw the -contents of his pockets that the police had -taken charge of. Besides the morphine case -and a few cards and a packet of letters in a -sealed wrapper, there were large-denomination -bills to the amount of——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Packet of letters—sealed?” croaked -Conover, catching the other’s arm in a grasp -that bit to the point of agony. “Letters?” -he repeated, his throat dry and contracted.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, I meant to speak to you about them. -Gerald asked me to bring them along. He -<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>said he got them for you from a man in Ballston -to-day, and was to have sent them to you -by registered mail. But in the hurry of -catching the New York train and the excitement -over the prospects of seeing——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Where are they? Did you bring them?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I couldn’t,” answered Wendell, marveling -at the lightning change in his client’s -voice and face. “The police, of course, took -charge of them. They will have to be examined -by the district attorney’s office before——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You must hurry or you’ll miss your train. -Good night.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Conover slammed the door on his astonished -guest and walked back into the library.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the middle of the room where he had so -vainly sought to inculcate into his family the -“pleasant home hour” habit, the Railroader -now stood alone, silent, without motion, his -shrewd face an empty, expressionless mask -of gray, his eyes alone burning like live coals, -showing that the brain within in no way -shared the outer shell’s inertia.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve got to work this out later, when I’ve -more time,” he muttered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And with the resolve came the impulse so -common to him when troubled or excited.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Gaines!” he called to the butler, who, late -though the hour was, had not received permission -<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>on this great night to retire, -“Gaines! order Dunderberg saddled and -brought around in fifteen minutes, and have -Giles ride with me to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Caleb went up to his dressing-room and -hastily changed into his riding clothes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As he strapped on the second of his spurs -a confused babel of sound arose just beyond -his dressing-room. This apartment served -as a sort of antechamber to the study. The -noise, therefore, must have come, he knew, -from the bevy of men he had left there. This -patent fact dawned on Conover as a surprise. -He had forgotten his followers’ existence, -forgotten the undecided election, the impending -Grafton returns on which its result would -hang. He had even, since Wendell’s departure, -forgotten Jerry’s plight and his own -rage and mortification thereat. All life—all -the future—now concentrated, for him, about -the Denzlow packet, whose contents must by -this time, or by morning at latest, be known -to the authorities. This last and greatest -blow had filled all his emotions, driving out -lesser thoughts, fears, hopes and griefs, as a -cyclone might rip to thin air the dawn mists -over a lake.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Now, at the clamor in the study, he pulled -himself together. The iron will still held. -He strode to the connecting door and opened -<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>it. The tumult had died down, and Staatz -alone was now speaking. So intent were the -speaker and his hearers that none noted the -Boss’s advent from so unexpected a quarter. -On the threshold stood Caleb, surveying the -scene with quiet contempt.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And that’s how it is!” Staatz was declaiming. -“We’re licked. <em>Licked!</em> Pretty -sort of news for Democrats <em>this</em> is!” picking -up a newly-broken length of ticker tape -around which the other men had been clustering. -“‘City of Grafton, complete: Conover -5,100, Standish 12,351.’ Is it a wonder you -all went nutty when you got it? In Grafton, -too, stronghold of Democracy. This means -the State for Standish by an easy 4,000, maybe -more. And who’s to blame? Are you? Am -I? Not us! We’ve had—the whole party’s -had—our hands tied behind us. And we were -sent in to fight like that. Could we use the -good old moves? Not us! It must be kid-glove, -silk-sock, amachoor politics, meeting -Standish on his own ground. No wonder he -licked us! A Prohibitionist could have licked -men that were hampered like we were. And -who was it tied our hands? Who got the -party beat and the Machine smashed? Who -did it? Caleb Conover!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He paused panting and sweating with -wrath. Then, encouraged by a murmur of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>assent that ran around the ring of listeners, -he bellowed:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We ain’t in politics for our health, are -we? It’s our bread and butter. That bread -and butter’s been snatched away from us. -Who by? Caleb Conover! Are you going to -be led by the nose any longer by a man who -betrays you like that? For my part <em>I’m</em> tired -of wearing his collar.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A growl of approbation greeted his query. -His bellow changed to a lower tone of persuasion.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I ain’t saying,” he resumed, “but what -Conover’s done work for the Machine. In -his day he was a great man, but his day’s -past. He’s breaking up. Don’t this campaign -prove he is? Makes us throw our -chances out of the winder for Standish to -pick up. And when we’re waiting news from -the deciding city he plays a phonograph, and -then wanders off and most likely forgets -we’re here. There’s another thing: How -did Richard Croker and Charlie Murphy and -Matt Quay and N. Bonaparte and all the -rest of the big bosses hold their power? By -keeping their mouths shut. When Croker -once began to talk, what happened? Down -tumbled all his power. Same with Quay. -Same with N’poleon. Same with all of ’em. -Talking was the first sign of losing hold. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>Look at Conover’s case. We can all remember -when words was as hard to get out of -him as dollars. How about him now? Talks -to any one. I tell you he’s breaking up. Unless -we want the Machine to break up for good -and all, too, we got to get a new Leader.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If the new Leader’s <em>you</em>, Adolphe Staatz,” -cut in a rasping snarl, like a dog’s, from the -group of politicians, as Billy Shevlin shouldered -his way forward and thrust his unshaven -face close to the district leader’s -bristling gray mustache, “if <em>you’re</em> the new -Leader you’re rootin’ for, let me put you -wise to somethin’: You’ll go to the primaries -straight from the hospital, an’ with your -shyster mug in a sling. Fer, if I hear another -peep out of you, roastin’ the Boss, I’ll knock -you from under your hat, and push your ugly -face in till your back teeth bend. <em>You</em> take -the Boss’s job? Chee! It’s to ha-ha! Go -chase yourself, ’fore I chase you so far you’ll -d’scover a new street. <em>You’d</em> backtrack Mister -Conover, would you’se? Why, if you go -’round Granite spreadin’ idees of that kind -in your own pin-head brain, I’ll sure be c’mpelled -to do all sorts of things to you. An’ -when I’m finished with you the Staatz family’ll -be able to indulge in that alloorin’ pastime -called ‘Put Papa Together!’ <em>You</em> fer -<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>Leader, eh? Say! I’m flatterin’ you a whole -heap when I call you——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let him alone, Billy,” intervened Bourke, -as the startled Staatz backed toward the wall, -ever followed by that belligerent, blue-jawed -little face so close to his own—“let him alone. -He’s talking straight. I for one——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You for one,” sounded a sneering voice -from the dressing-room doorway behind -them, “you for one, friend Bourke, were -starving on the street when I took you in and -fed you and got your kids out of the Protectory -and gave you a job.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>At the first word the mumbled assent to -Staatz’s and Bourke’s opinion, that had -welled up in a dozen throats, died into sacred -silence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You for another, ’Dolphe Staatz,” went -on Caleb, still standing on the threshold and -viewing the group of malcontents with a cold -disgust. “You were on the road to the ‘pen’ -for knowing too much about that ‘queer -paper’ joint on Willow Street, when I got -the indictment quashed and squared things -with the district attorney and put you on your -feet.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Caine,” turning to the <cite>Star’s</cite> editor, “I -think I heard <em>you</em> agreeing among the rest, -didn’t I, hey? Diff’r’t sound from the kind -you made when you come to me twelve years -<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>ago and cried and said the <cite>Star</cite> was all in, -and would I save you from going bankrupt -by taking it over? And there’s plenty more -of you here with the same sort of story to -tell.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He strode forward and was among them, -forcing one after another to meet his eye, -dominating by his very presence the men who -had sought to dethrone him. In his hour of -stress all the old power, the splendid rulership -of men, surged back upon the Railroader. -He stood a king amid awestruck serfs, a stern -schoolmaster among a naughty band of scared -children.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Some one spoke about being tired of wearing -my collar,” he said. “Is there a man here -who put on that collar against his will, or a -man who didn’t beg for it? Is there a man -who hasn’t profited by it? A man who hasn’t -risen as I have risen and benefited when I -benefited? Don’t stand there, mumchance, -like a lot of dago section-hands! You were -ready enough to speak before I came in. -Why aren’t you, now? Is it because you’re -so sorry for this poor, broken old man, who -talks too much and ain’t fit to run the Machine -any longer, eh? Spit it out, Staatz! -If you’re qualifying for my shoes you got to -learn to look less like a whipped puppy when -you’re spoke to. Stand up and state your -<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>grievance like a man, you Dutch crook that -I lifted out of jail! You, too, Bourke! -Where’s your tongue? And all the rest of -you that was on the point of choosing a new -Leader.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>No one answered. The Boss’s instinct -power rather than his mere words held them -sulky and dumb. Over each was creeping the -old subservience to the peerless will that had -so long shaped the Mountain State’s destinies -and theirs.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I talk too much, eh?” mocked Conover. -“Well, to prove that’s so, I’m going to give -you curs a little Sunday-school talk right -now. You say I cut out the old methods, this -campaign. I did. And why did I do it? Because -if these reformers had thought they -were licked unfair there’s so many of ’em -they’d ’a’ carried the case to every court in -the land, and ’a’ drawed the whole country’s -op’ra-glasses onto this p’ticular Machine, and -started another such wave as swamped Dick -Croker and Tammany in ’94. And then -where’d the Machine and you fellers have -been? There’s got to be reform in a State -just so often, just like there’s got to be croup -in a nursery. Every other State’s had it. And -each time they’ve fished up something queer -about their local Machine, and that same Machine’s -never been so strong again. Well, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>the Mountain State’s turn for reform was -overdue. It had to come. And this was the -time. I thought maybe I could beat ’em on -their own ground. If I had, that’d ’a’ ended -reform here, forever and amen. Even if I -was beat I knew the people would get so sick -of one term of reform, they’d come screeching -to us to take ’em back. And then’s the time -my kid-glove stunts of this campaign would -shine out fine against a rotten reform administration. -The Machine would escape any -investigation of the kind that follers a crooked -campaign, and we’d simply be begged to take -everything in sight for the rest of our lives. -Maybe you think a chance of one term out of -office was too much to pay for such a future -cinch?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The speech—reasons and all—was improvised -as he spoke. And again it was the -Boss’s manner and his brutal magnetism -rather than his words that carried conviction.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Because I didn’t print this all out in big -letters and simple words that you dolts could -understand,” resumed Caleb, “you forget -the holes I’ve got you and the party out of in -the past, and go grouching about my ‘breaking -up.’ Maybe my brain <em>is</em> softening a bit, -just to keep company with the ninnies I -travel with. But it’s still a <em>brain</em>. And -that’s more’n anyone else here can boast of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>having. Now, I’ve showed you how the land -lays. Which of <em>you</em> would ’a’ carried the -Machine over it any safer, and how would -he’d ’a’ done it? <em>You</em>, for instance, Staatz?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The big German sheepishly grumbled something -unintelligible under his breath.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Sounds about as clear and sensible as -most of your ideas, ’Dolphe,” commented -Caleb. “You’ll have to learn more words’n -that before you’re Boss. Now, then,” he resumed, -throwing aside his stolid bearing and -hammering imperiously on the table with his -riding crop, “we’ll proceed to choose a new -Leader. It’s irregular, but there’s easy a -quorum of district leaders here. Who’ll it -be that steps into Caleb Conover’s shoes? -Who’ll say he’s strong enough to hold the -reins he thinks I’m too weak to handle? -Who’ll it be? I lifted the party and every -man here from the dirt to a higher, stronger -place than anyone dreamed they <em>could</em> be -lifted. Who’ll hold ’em there now that I stand -aside? Speak up! Choose your leader!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>CONOVER!</em>” yelled Billy Shevlin ecstatically.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Shut up, you mangy little tough!” -fiercely ordered Caleb; but a half-score of -eager voices had caught up the cry. About -the Railroader pressed the district leaders, -smiting him on the back, striving to grab his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>hands, over and over again vociferating his -name; crying out on him to stand by them, -to lead them, to forgive their ingratitude and -folly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And in the centre of the exultant babel -stood Caleb Conover, unmoved save for a -sneering smile that twisted one corner of his -hard mouth, the only man present who was -not carried away by that crazy wave of reactive -enthusiasm.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Staatz,” observed the Railroader, as the -hubbub at length died down, “I’m afraid -you’ll have to wait a wee peckle longer for -that leadership. But cheer up. Everything -comes to the man who waits—till no one else -wants it. I’ve got one thing more to say, -and then my ‘talking’ will be done for good, -as far as you men are concerned. I had a -kennel of dogs once, on my place here. A -whole lot of pedigreed, high-priced whelps -that it cost me a fortune to buy. I thought -maybe I’d enjoy their society. It was so -much sensibler’n politicians’. But somehow -after a while I got tired of ’em. For they -didn’t take to me, not from the first. Animals -don’t, as a rule. Every now and then when -I’d go to their enclosure they’d forget to -mind me, and once or twice they combined -and tried to get me down and throttle me. -Of course I could lash ’em into minding, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>I could lash all the fight out of ’em when they -started for my throat. And I did. But by -and by I got tired of having to lick the brutes -every few days in order to make ’em treat -me decent. They weren’t worth the trouble. -So I got rid of them. Just as I’m going to get -rid of you fellers, and for the same good reason. -I resign. I’m out of politics for good. -As far as I’m concerned the Machine is -smashed for all time. Now clear out of here, -the whole kennelful of you. Be on your -way!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Stilling the furious volley of protest that -had arisen on all sides at his announcement, -Caleb flung open the outer door of his study. -Several of the dazed politicians essayed to -speak, but the quick gleam in their self-deposed -Leader’s eye halted the words ere they -were spoken. Obedient, cowed to the last, -the Machine’s officers and henchmen finally -yielded to that look and to the peremptory -gesture of the Railroader’s arm. One by one -they filed out, Staatz in the van, Bourke with -averted gaze slinking along in the rear.</p> - -<p class='c010'>With a grunt of ultimate dismissal Conover -closed the door.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Glancing over the scene of the late conflict -before departing for his ride, his glance -fell on a solitary, ill-dressed figure seated -at one corner of the deserted table.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>“Billy!” exclaimed Conover, exasperated, -“why didn’t you get out with the rest!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“’Cause I don’t belong with that cheapskate -push. I belong here with you, Boss.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But I’m out of it, you idiot. Out of the -game for good and all. I’m leaving Granite.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“When do we start?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Conover looked at his little henchman in -annoyance that merged into a vexed laugh.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I tell you,” he repeated, “I’m out of politics -for good.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“So’m I, then,” cheerfully responded Billy. -“D’ye know, Boss, I’m kind o’ glad. Sometimes -I’ve suspicioned politics wasn’t—well, -wasn’t quite square. Maybe it’s best that two -pious men like us is out of it. Now, say, Mister -Conover,” he hurried on more seriously, -“I know what you mean. You want to shake -the whole bunch. You’re sore on ’em all. -You’re goin’ to cut out Granite, too, after the -lemon you’ve been handed. But whatever -your game is an’ wherever you spiel it, it -won’t do you no harm to have Billy Shevlin -along with you as a ‘also-ran.’ Now, will it? -Why, Boss, I’ve worked for you ever since I -was no bigger’n—no bigger’n Staatz’s chances -of becomin’ a white man. An’ I ain’t goin’ -to cut out the old job at this time of day. If -it ain’t Caleb Conover, Governor, I work for, -then it’ll be Caleb Conover, Something-or-other. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>An’ that’s good enough for W. Shevlin. -So let’s let it go at that. I won’t bother -you no more to-night, ’cause I see you’re on -edge. But I’m comin’ around in the mornin’. -An’ when I come I’m comin’ for keeps. Just -like I’ve always done. So long, Boss.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Poor old Billy!” muttered Conover as the -Shevlin slipped out too hurriedly to permit of -his Leader’s framing any reply to what was -quite the longest speech the henchman had -ever made. “He’ll never make a hit in politics -till he gets rid of some of that loyalty. -Next to gratitood there ain’t another vice -that hampers a man so bad.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then, dismissing the recent events from his -mind, the Railroader ran downstairs, lightly -as a boy, and to the outer entrance, where -Dunderberg was plunging and pivoting in -the grip of two grooms. A third groom, -mounted on a quieter steed, sat well beyond -range of the stallion’s lashing heels.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Late as it was, Mrs. Conover was still up. -Caleb brushed past her in the hall, cutting -short the feeble remonstrances with which -she always prefaced one of his wild rides.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Caleb!” she pleaded as she followed -him out on the broad veranda. “Not to-night, -dear! Just give it up this once, to -please ME! He’s—he’s such a terrible horse. -I never saw him so wild as he is now. The -men can scarcely hold him. Oh, please——”</p> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/i_312.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>“All right!” shouted Conover, in glorious excitement. “All right! Let him go! Never mind the hat.” Page <a href='#Page_313'>313</a>.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>But the Railroader was already preparing -to mount.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t you worry, old girl,” he called back -over his shoulder; “he’s none too wild for my -taste. There never was a horse yet could get -the best of me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The wind was rising again. It whistled -across the grounds, ruffling the puddles and -stirring the dead leaves. A whiff of it caught -Conover’s hat as he fought his way to the -plunging stallion’s back. The exultance of -coming battle was already upon both rider -and horse.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Your hat, sir!” called one of the grooms, -as another sprang forward to catch the falling -headgear. But Caleb had no mind to -wait for trifles. The night wind was in his -face, the furious horse whirling and rearing -between his vice-like knee-grip.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All right!” shouted Conover in glorious -excitement, signalling to the struggling -groom to release the bit. “All right! Let -him go! Never mind the hat. Come on, -Giles.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Dunderberg, his head freed, leaped forward -as from a catapult. Master and man thundered -away down the drive, and were swallowed -in the blackness. The double roar of -flying hoofs grew fainter, then was lost in the -solemn hush of the autumn night.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XV<br /> <span class='large'>DUNDERBERG SOLVES THE DIFFICULTY</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Clive Standish had spent the evening at -the Civic League headquarters, awaiting reports -of the day’s battle. The rooms were -full of the League’s minor candidates and -officials, with a fair sprinkling of women. -Anice Lanier, chaperoned by her aunt, with -whom she now lived, was there, her high color -and the light in her big eyes alone betraying -the fearful suspense under which she labored.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The belated returns, which should have -been telegraphed at once to the League headquarters, -were still further delayed by the -fact that the one wire now running into town -had been preëmpted by Conover. Hence, it -was not until well after one o’clock that Clive -received definite news of his own election. -Throngs of friends and supporters had, on -receipt of the final figures, flocked about him -with congratulations and good wishes. To all -he had given seeming heed, yet among the -crush he saw but one face, read in one pair -<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>of brown eyes the praise and infinite gladness -he sought.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And as soon as he could he departed with -Anice and her aunt for the latter’s home, -where a little <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">souper à trois</span></i> was to celebrate -the victory.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They formed a jolly trio about the dainty -supper table. Late as it was, all were far too -excited to feel sleepy or wish to curtail by one -minute the little feast of triumph.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“To the next Governor of the Mountain -State!” proclaimed Anice solemnly, as she -lifted her glass. “To be drunk standing, -and with—No, no, Clive,” she reproved as -the Governor-elect also rose. “<em>You</em> mustn’t -drink it. It’s——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m not going to,” retorted Standish indignantly. -“I’m getting up to look for a -dictionary.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But what on earth——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I want to find the feminine for Governor. -And——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A whirr of the telephone bell broke in on -his explanation.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Some stupid political message for you,” -hazarded Anice, taking down the receiver. -“Yes, this is 318 R. Yes. Yes, this is Miss -La—Oh!” with a changed intonation, -“Mrs. Conover?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A longer pause. Then Anice gave a little -<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>exclamation of sympathy, listened a moment -and said:</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, we will come at once. But I hope -you’ll find it’s not as bad as you think. Don’t -break down. I’m sure it will be all right.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What is it?” asked Clive and her aunt -in a breath.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m not quite sure,” answered the girl. -“She was so upset I could hardly understand -her. Besides, the wires are still in bad -condition. But it seems some accident or injury -has happened to her husband. Gerald -is away, and there is no one the poor woman -can turn to, so she telephoned for me. And, -Clive, she wants to know if you won’t come, -too. Please, do. You’re the only relative -she has. And she’s so unhappy.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just as you wish,” acceded Standish, -with no great willingness, “but I’ll be sorry -to have to-night’s happiness marred by another -row with Conover.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I gather from what she says he is in no -condition for a ‘row’ with anyone. I told -her we’d come at once. Please hurry, dear. -I hate to think of that frightened little woman -trying to meet any sort of a crisis alone.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>In the great, comfortless drawing-room of -the Mausoleum, on a couch hastily pushed -into the centre of the room under the chandelier, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>lay Caleb Conover, Railroader. Two -doctors, who had been working over him, had -now drawn back a few paces and were conferring -in grave undertones. At the foot of -the couch, clad only in nightgown and slippers, -as she had been aroused from bed, her -sparse hair tight-clumped in a semicircle of -kid curlers, Mrs. Conover crouched in a -moaning, rocking heap. Scared, whispering -groups of servants blocked the doorways or -peered curiously in from behind curtains. -The air was thick with the pungent smell of -antiseptics.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Railroader, lying motionless beneath -the unshaded glare of a half-dozen gas jets, -was swathed of head and bandaged of arm. -He was coatless, and his shirt and waistcoat -were thrown open disclosing his mighty chest. -Across the couch-end his feet, still booted and -spurred, protruded stiffly as a manikin’s.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was upon this scene that Anice and Clive -entered. At sight of the girl, Mrs. Conover -scrambled to her feet, and with a wild outburst -of scared sobs, scuttled forward to meet -her, the bedside slippers shuffling and sliding -grotesquely along the polished floor. Anice -took the panic-stricken, weeping creature into -her arms and whispered what words of comfort -and encouragement she could.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Meanwhile Clive, not desiring to break in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>on the doctors’ conference, turned to the doorway -again and asked a question of one of the -servants. For reply the groom, Giles, was -thrust forward and obliged to repeat, with -dolorous unction, for the tenth time within an -hour, the story of the accident.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You see, sir,” he said, lowering his voice -as though in the room with a corpse, “Mr. -Conover sent word for me to ride with him. -We started off at a dead run, and my horse -couldn’t noways keep up with Dunderberg, so -I follows along behind as fast as I could, but -I couldn’t keep up to the right distance between -us, to save me. Mr. Conover turns out -of the drive, up Pompton Av’noo, sir, and on -past the Humason place, me a-followin’ as -fast as I could. All of a sudden I catches up. -It’s in that dark, woody patch of road just this -side the quarries. The way I happens to catch -up is because Dunderberg was havin’ one of -them tantrums of his an’ Mr. Conover was -givin’ it to him for all he was worth, crop an’ -spur, an’ Dunderberg a-whirlin’ around and -passagin’ an’ tryin’ his best to rear. An’ -every time that horse’s forelegs goes up in -the air Mr. Conover’d bring his fist down between -his ears an’ down’d come Dunderberg -on all-fours again. They was takin’ up all -the road, wide as it is, an’ Dunderberg was -lashin’ an’ plungin’ like he was crazy, an’ -<span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>Mr. Conover stickin’ on like he was glued -there an’ sendin’ in the spurs and the whacks -of the crop till you’d ’a’ thought he’d kill the -brute. Then, Dunderberg makes a dive ahead -an’ gets out alongside the quarry-pit an’ tries -to rear again. Right on the edge of the pit.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” said Clive excitedly, as the groom -paused, “and then?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, sir, I can’t rightly tell, the light -was so bad. If it’d been anyone else but Mr. -Conover, I’d say he lost his nerve, an’ when -Dunderberg reared up he forget to bring him -down like he’d done those other times, or -maybe he <em>did</em> hit the horse between the ears -again an’ didn’t hit hard enough. Anyhow, -over goes Dunderberg backward—clean fifteen -feet drop—into the quarry. An’ Mr. -Conover under him. An’ then——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But Clive had moved away. The doctors -had finished their consultation, and one of -them—Dr. Hawes, the Conover family physician—had -again approached that silent figure -on the couch.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At sight of Standish the second doctor came -forward to meet the young man.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No,” he whispered, reading the unspoken -question in Clive’s face, “no possible hope. -He can’t last over an hour longer at most. -Another man, crushed as he was, would have -been killed at once. As it is, he probably won’t -<span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>recover consciousness. Nothing but his tremendous -vitality holds the shreds of life in -him so long as this.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Does his wife know——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She is not in a state to be told. I wish we -could persuade her to leave the room. Perhaps -Miss Lanier——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A gesture from Dr. Hawes drew them toward -the couch.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He is coming to his senses,” said the -family physician, adding under his breath, so -that only his colleague and Clive could hear; -“it is the final rally. Not one man in a thousand——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But Clive had caught Anice’s eye and beckoned -her to lead Mrs. Conover to the side of -the couch.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Railroader’s face, set like carven granite, -began to twitch. The rigid mouth relaxed -its set whiteness and the eyelids flickered. -Mrs. Conover, at these signs of life, prepared -for a fresh attack of hysteria, but a gentle, -firm pressure of Anice’s hand in hers forestalled -the outburst. With an aggrieved look -at the girl, Letty again turned her scared attention -to her husband.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Dr. Hawes was bending once more over the -prostrate man, seeking to employ a restorative. -Now he rose, and as he did so, Caleb’s -eyes opened.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>There was no bewilderment, no surprise nor -pain in the calm glance that swept his garish -surroundings.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Is he suffering?” whispered Anice. -“Or——?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Horribly,” returned Dr. Hawes in the -same tone. “He——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The shrewd, pale eyes that scorned to show -trace of physical or mental anguish, slowly -took in the group beside the couch, resting first -on the two physicians, then on Anice Lanier.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As he saw and recognized Anice the first -change came over the dying man’s hard-set -features. A look of perplexity that merged -into glad surprise lighted his whole face, -smoothing from it with magic touch every line -of care, thought or time; transfiguring it into -the countenance of a happy boy. Long he -sought and held her sympathetic glance, that -look of youth and gladness growing and deepening -on his face, while all around stood silent -and marvelling.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was Mrs. Conover who broke the spell.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Caleb!” she wailed querulously, -“you <em>said</em> no horse could get the better of -you. And now——”</p> - -<p class='c010'>At her words the beatific light was gone -from Conover’s eyes. In its stead came a -gleam of grim, ironical amusement. Then, -his gaze travelling past Anice to Clive Standish, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>his brows contracted in a frown of displeasure. -But this, too, faded. The swathed -head settled lower among the cushions, the -powerful body seemed to shrink and flatten. -The eyes closed, and Conover lay very still.</p> - -<p class='c010'>His wife, divining for the first time the -actual state of affairs, flung herself forward -on her knees beside the silent figure, her sobs -scaling to a crescendo cry of terror.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Slowly Caleb Conover opened his eyes. Reluctantly, -as though drawn back by sheer force -from the very threshold of the wide portals -of Rest, his spirit paused for an instant longer -in its earthly abode—paused and flared up, as -a dying spark, in the Railroader’s stiffening -face.</p> - -<p class='c010'>For a moment his eyes—already wide with -the awful mystery of the Beyond—strayed -over his kneeling wife; over the sparse locks -bunched up in that halo of kid curlers; over -the pudgy shape so mercilessly outlined by the -sheer nightgown; over the tear-swollen red -eyes, the blotched cheeks, the quivering, -pursed-up mouth.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Letty,” he panted, in tired disgust, “you -look—more like a measly rabbit—every day!”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>THE END</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c003' /> -</div> -<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> - -<div class='chapter ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c004'> - <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - - <ol class='ol_1 c002'> - <li>P. <a href='#t262'>262</a>, changed “its waist, it a blamed” to “its waist, is a blamed”. - - </li> - <li>Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling. - - </li> - <li>Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. - </li> - </ol> - -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CALEB CONOVER, RAILROADER ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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