The Grafters

by Francis Lynde

  XVII

  THE CONSPIRATORS

  It was chiefly due to Portia's urgings that Kent took Ormsby into hisconfidence when the campaign was fairly opened. She put it diplomaticallyon the ground of charity to an exiled millionaire, temporarily out of ajob; but her real reason went deeper. From its inception as a one-manfight against political chicanery in high places, the criticism of theBucks formula was beginning to shape itself in a readjustment of partylines in the field of State politics; and Miss Van Brock, whose designsupon Kent's future ran far in advance of her admissions to him, wasanxiously casting about for a managerial promoter.

  A little practice-play in municipal politics made the need apparent. Itcame in the midst of things, basing itself upon the year-gone triumph ofagrarianism in the State. In the upheaval, the capital city hadparticipated to the extent of electing a majority of the aldermen on thePeople's Party ticket; and before long it developed that a majority ofthis aldermanic majority could be counted among the spoilsmen--was in facta creature of the larger ring.

  HE JAMMED THE FIRE END OF HIS CIGAR AMONG THE FINGERS OFTHE GRASPING HAND.]

  Late in the summer an ordinance was proposed by the terms of which asingle corporation was to be given a franchise granting a completemonopoly of the streets for gas and water mains and transit rights of way.Thereupon a bitter struggle ensued. Party lines were obliterated, and menwho shunned the primaries and otherwise shirked their political dutiesraised the cry of corruption, and a Civic League was formed to fight thering.

  Into this struggle, as giving him the chance to front the enemy in a fairfield, David Kent flung himself with all the ardor of a born fighter. Massmeetings were held, with Kent as spokesman for the League, and the outcomewas a decency triumph which brought Kent's name into grateful publicprominence. Hildreth played an able second, and by the time the obnoxiousordinance had been safely tabled, Kent had a semi-political followingwhich was all his own. Men who had hitherto known him only as acorporation lawyer began to prophesy large things of the fiery youngadvocate, whose arguments were as sound and convincing as his invectivewas keen and merciless.

  Figuratively speaking, Portia stood in the wings and applauded. Also, shesaw that her protege had reached the point where he needed grooming forwhatever race lay before him. Hence her urgings, which made a triumvirateout of the council of two, with Brookes Ormsby as the third member.

  "You understand, I'm not interested a little bit in the merits of thecase," said the newly elected chairman, in his first official interviewwith Miss Van Brock. "So far as the internal politics of this particularlywild and woolly State are concerned, I'm neither in them nor of them. ButI am willing to do what I can for Kent."

  "Owing him a good turn?" said Portia, with malice aforethought.

  Ormsby's laugh was an Englishman's deep-chested haw-haw.

  "So he has been making you his confidante in that, too, has he?"

  "There was no confidence needed," she retorted. "I have eyes; and, to useone of your own pet phrases, I was not born yesterday. But let that go:you are willing to help us?"

  "I said I was willing to help Kent. If you bracket yourself with him, I ammore than willing. But I am rather new to the game. You will have to tellme the moves."

  "We are only in the opening," she said, continuing the figure. "You willlearn as you go along. By and by you will have to spend money; but justnow the need is for a cool head to keep our young firebrand out of thepersonalities. Where is he to-night?"

  Ormsby's smile was a grin.

  "I left him at 124 Tejon Avenue half an hour ago. Do you think he islikely to get into trouble there?"

  On the porch of the Brentwood apartment house David Kent was answeringthat question measurably well for himself. With the striking of the CityHall clock at nine Mrs. Brentwood had complained of the glare of theelectric crossing-lamp and had gone in, leaving the caller with Penelopein the hammock on one side of him and Elinor in a basket chair on theother.

  Their talk had been of the late municipal struggle, and of Kent's part init; and, like Miss Van Brock, Penelope was applausive. But Elinor'scongratulations were tempered with deprecation.

  "I am glad you won for the League, of course; everybody must be glad ofthat," she said. "But I hope the _Argus_ didn't report your speechescorrectly. If it did, you have made a host of bitter enemies."

  "What does a man--a real man--care for that?" This from the depths of thehammock.

  "I, at least, can afford to be careless," said Kent. "I am not running foroffice, and I have nothing to lose, politically or otherwise."

  "Can any man say that truthfully?" Elinor queried.

  "I think I can. I have given no hostages to fortune."

  Penelope lifted the challenge promptly.

  "Lord Bacon said that, didn't he?--about men marrying. If he were alivenow he wouldn't need to say it. Men don't have to be discouraged."

  "Don't they?" said Kent.

  "No, indeed; they are too utterly selfish for any matrimonial use, as itis. No, don't argue with me, please. I'm fixed--irrevocably fixed."

  Elinor overtook the runaway conversation and drove it back into the pathof her own choosing.

  "But I do think you owe it to yourself to be more careful in your publicutterances," she insisted. "If these men on the other side are only halfas unprincipled as your accusations make them out to be, they would notstop short of personal violence."

  "I am not hunting clemency or personal immunity just now," laughed Kent."On the contrary, I am only anxious to make the score as heavy aspossible. And so far from keeping prudently in the background, I'llconfess that I went into this franchise fight chiefly to let the capitolgang know who I am and where I stand."

  A sudden light came into Elinor's eyes and burned there steadily. She wasof those who lay votive offerings upon the shrine of manly courage.

  "One part of me approves as much as another part disapproves," she saidafter a time. "I suppose it isn't possible to avoid making politicalenemies; but is it needful to turn them into personal enemies?"

  He looked at her curiously.

  "I am afraid I don't know any middle path, not being a politician," heobjected. "And as for the enmity of these men, I shall count it an honorto win it. If I do not win it, I shall know I am not succeeding."

  Silence for another little space, which Miss Brentwood broke by saying:

  "Don't you want to smoke? You may."

  Kent felt in his pocket.

  "I have no cigar."

  She looked past him to the hammock. "Penelope!" she called softly; andwhen there was no response she went to spread the hammock rug over hersister.

  "You may smoke your pipe," she said; and when she had passed behind him toher chair she made another concession: "Let me fill it for you--you usedto."

  He gave her the pipe and tobacco, and by a curious contradiction of termsbegan to wonder if he ought not to go. Notwithstanding his frank defianceof Brookes Ormsby, and his declaration of intention in the sentimentalaffair, he had his own notions about the sanctity of a betrothal. Mrs.Brentwood had vanished, and Penelope was asleep in the hammock. Could hetrust himself to be decently loyal to Ormsby if he should stay? Nicequestions of conscience had not been troubling him much of late; but thiswas new ground--or if not new, so old that it had the effect of being new.

  He let the question go unanswered--and stayed. But he was minded to flingthe biggest barrier he could lay hands on in the way of possibledisloyalty by saying good things of Ormsby.

  "I owe you much for my acquaintance with him," he said, when the subjectwas fairly introduced. "He has been all kinds of a good friend to me, andhe promises to be more."

  "Isn't your debt to Penelope, rather than to me?" she returned.

  "No, I think not. You are responsible, in the broader sense, at allevents. He did not come West for Penelope's sake." Then he took theplunge: "May I know when it is to be--or am I to wait for my bidding withthe other and more formally invited guests?"

 
; She laughed, a low little laugh that somehow grated upon his nerves.

  "You shall know--when I know."

  "Forgive me," he said quickly. "But from something Ormsby said----"

  "He should not have spoken of it; I have given him no right," she saidcoldly.

  "You make me twice sorry: once if I am a trespasser, and again if I haveunwittingly broken a confidence. But as a friend--a very old friend--Iventured----"

  She interrupted him again, but this time her laugh did not hurt him.

  "Yes; our friendship antedates Mr. Ormsby; it is old enough to excuseanything you said--or were going to say."

  "Thank you," he rejoined, and he meant it. "What I was going to saytouches a matter which I believe you haven't confided to any one. May Italk business for a few minutes?"

  "If you will light your pipe and go on smoking. It makes me nervous tohave people hang on the brink of things."

  He lighted the pipe, wondering what other thing he might do to allay hernervousness. None the less, he would not go back from his purpose, whichwas barrier-building.

  "I have thought, wholly without warrant, perhaps, that your loss in thisrailroad steal has had something to do with the postponement of yourhappiness--and Ormsby's. Has it?"

  "And if it should have?"

  "I merely wanted to say that we still have a fighting chance. But one ofthe hard and fast conditions is that every individual stockholder shallhang on to his or her holdings like grim death."

  She caught her breath with a little gasp.

  "The encouragement comes too late for us. We have parted with our stock."

  Kent turned cold and hot and cold again while she was saying it. Then thelawyer in him came uppermost.

  "Is it gone beyond recall? How much too late am I?" he demanded.

  "My mother wrote the letter to-day. She had an offer from some one in NewYork."

  Kent was on his feet instantly.

  "Has that letter been mailed? Because if it has, it must be stopped bywire!"

  Miss Brentwood rose.

  "It was on the hall table this afternoon; I'll go and see," and in amoment she returned with the letter in her hand.

  Kent took it from her as if it had been an edged weapon or a can of highexplosives.

  "Heavens! what a turn you gave me!" he said, sitting down again. "Can Isee your mother?"

  "I think she has gone to bed. What do you want to do?"

  "I want to tell her that she mustn't do any such suicidal thing as this."

  "You don't know my mother," was the calm reply. "Mr. Ormsby saideverything he could think of."

  "Then we must take matters into our own hands. Will you help me?"

  "How?" she asked.

  "By keeping your own counsel and trusting me. Your mother supposes thisletter has gone: it has gone--this way." He tore the sealed envelopeacross and across and dropped the pieces into his pocket. "Now we aresafe--at least until the man at the other end writes again."

  It shocked her a little, and she did not promise to be a party to thesubterfuge. But neither did she say she would not.

  "I am willing to believe that you have strong reasons for taking suchstrong measures," she said. "May I know them?"

  Kent's gift of reticence came to his rescue in time to prevent theintroduction of another and rather uncertain factor into his complicatedproblem.

  "I can explain it more intelligibly a little later on; or if I don't,Ormsby will. In the mean time, you must take my word for it that we shallhave our railroad back in due season."

  It is a question for the psychologists to answer if there be or be notcrises in a man's life when the event, weighty or trivial, turns upon thatthing which, for the want of a better name, is called a premonition.

  In the silence that followed his dismissal of the subject, Kent becameaware of a vague prompting which was urging him to cut his visit short.There was no definable reason for his going. He had finally broughthimself to the point of speaking openly to Elinor of her engagement, andthey were, as he fondly believed, safely beyond the danger point in thatfield. Moreover, Penelope was stirring in her hammock and the perilousprivacy was at an end. Nevertheless, he rose and said good-night, and washalf-way to the next corner before he realized how inexcusably abrupt hisleave-taking had been.

  When he did realize it, he was of two minds whether to go back or to letthe apology excuse another call the following evening. Then the insistentprompting seized him again; and when next he came to a competent sense ofthings present he was standing opposite the capitol building, staringfixedly up at a pair of lighted windows in the second story.

  They were the windows of the governor's room; and David Kent's braincleared suddenly. In the earliest beginnings of the determinate plan towrest the Trans-Western out of the grasp of the junto he had known that itmust come finally to some desperate duel with the master-spirit of theringsters. Was Jasper Bucks behind those lighted windows--alone?

  Kent had not meant to make the open attack until he should have a weaponin his hands which would arm him to win. But now as he stood looking up atthe heckoning windows a mad desire to have it out once for all with therobber-in-chief sent the blood tingling to his finger-tips. True, he hadnothing as yet in the oil-field conspiracy that the newspapers or thepublic would accept as evidence of fraud and corruption. But on the otherhand, Bucks was only a man, after all; a man with a bucaneer's record, andby consequence vulnerable beneath the brazen armor of assurance. If theattack were bold enough----

  Kent did not stop to argue it out. When a man's blood is up the oddsagainst him shrink and become as naught. Two minutes later he was in theupper corridor of the capitol, striding swiftly to the door of the lightedroom.

  Recalling it afterward he wondered if the occult prompting which haddragged him out of his chair on the Brentwcod porch saw to it that hewalked upon the strip of matting in the tile-paved corridor and so madehis approach noiseless. Also, if the same silent monitor bade him stopshort of the governor's office: at the door, namely, of the publicanteroom, which stood ajar?

  A low murmur of voices came from beyond, and for a moment he pausedlistening. Then he went boldly within, crossing the anteroom and standingfairly in the broad beam of light pouring through the open door ofcommunication with the private office.

  Four men sat in low-toned conference around the governor's writing-table,and if any one of them had looked up the silent witness must have beendiscovered. Kent marked them down one by one: the governor; Hendricks, thesecretary of State; Rumford, the oil man; and Senator Duvall. For fivepregnant minutes he stood looking on, almost within arm's reach of thefour; hearing distinctly what was said; seeing the papers which changedhands across the table. Then he turned and went away, noiselessly as hehad come, the thick-piled carpet of the anteroom muffling his footfalls.

  It was midnight when he reached his quarters in the Clarendon and flunghimself full length upon the bed, sodden with weariness. For two hours hehad tramped the deserted streets, striving in sharp travail of soul to fitthe invincible, chance-given weapon to his hand. When he came in the thingwas done, and he slept the sleep of an outworn laborer.