by Leroy Scott
CHAPTER XV
POLITICS MAKE STRANGE BED-FELLOWS
She quieted Nelly into a canter, made her way through the soundlysleeping back streets, and at length emerged from the city anddescended into the River Road, which was slightly shorter thanGrayson's Pike which led over the high back country to The Sycamores.She knew what Nelly could do, and she settled the mare down into thefastest pace she could hold for the eleven miles before her.
Katherine was aquiver with suspense, one moment with hopefulexpectation, the next with fear that her deductions were all awry.Perhaps Blake had not gone out to meet a confederate. And if he had,perhaps The Sycamores was not the rendezvous. But if her deductionswere correct, who was this secret ally? Would she be able to approachthem near enough to discover his identity? And would she be able tolearn the exact outlines of the plot that was afoot? If so, what wouldit all prove to be?
Such questions and doubts galloped madly through her mind. The stormgrew momently in fierceness. The water and fury of three months ofwithheld storms were spending themselves upon the earth in one violentoutburst. The wind cracked her skirt like a whip-lash, and whined andsnarled and roared among the trees. The rain drove at her in maddenedsheets, found every opening in her raincoat, and soon she was as wetas though dropped in the river yonder. The night was as black as theinterior of a camera, save when--as by the opening of a snapshotshutter--an instantaneous view of the valley was fixed on Katherine'sstartled brain by the lightning ripping in fiery fissures down thesky. Then she saw the willows bending and whipping in the wind, sawthe gnarled old sycamores wrestling with knotted muscles, saw thebroad river writhing and tossing its swollen and yellow waters. Then,blackness again--and, like the closing click of this world-widecamera, there followed a world-shaking crash of thunder.
Katherine would have been terrified but for the stimulant within. Shecrouched low upon her horse, held a close rein, petted Nelly, talkedto her and kept her going at her best--onward--onward--onward--throughthe covered wooden bridge that spanned Buck Creek--through the littleold village of Sleepy Eye--up Red Man's Ridge--and at last, battered,buffeted, half-drowned, she and Nelly drew up at the familiar stonegateway of The Sycamores.
She dismounted, led Nelly in and tied her among the beeches away fromthe drive. Then cautiously, palpitantly, she groped her way in thedirection of the Blake cabin, avoiding the open lest the lightningshould betray her presence. At length she came to the edge of acleared space in which she knew the cabin stood. But she could seenothing. The cabin was just a cube of blackness imbedded in this greatblackness which was the night. She peered intently for a lightedwindow; she listened for the lesser thunder of a waiting automobile.But she could see nothing but the dark, hear nothing but the dash ofthe rain, the rumble of the thunder, the lashing and shrieking of thewind.
Her heart sank. No one was here. Her guesses all were wrong.
But she crept toward the house, following the drive. Suddenly, shealmost collided with a big, low object. She reached forth a hand. Itfell upon the tire of an automobile. She peered forward and seemed tosee another low shape. She went toward it and felt. It was a secondcar.
She dashed back among the trees, and thus sheltered from the revealingglare of the lightning, almost choking with excitement, she began tocircle the house for signs which would locate in what room were themen within. She paused before each side and peered closely at it, buteach side in turn presented only blackness, till she came to the leeof the house.
This, too, was dark for the first moment. Then in a lower window,which she knew to be the window of Blake's den, two dull red points oflight appeared--glowed--subsided--glowed again--then vanished. Aminute later one reappeared, then the other; and after the slow riseand fall and rise of the glow, once more went out. She stood rigid,wondering at the phenomenon. Then suddenly she realized that withinwere two lighted cigars.
Bending low, she scurried across the open space and crouched besidethe window. Luckily it had been opened to let some fresh air into thelong-closed room. And luckily this was the lee of the house and thebeat of the storm sounded less loudly here, so that their voicesfloated dimly out to her. This lee was also a minor blessing, forKatherine's poor, wet, shivering body now had its first protectionfrom the storm.
Tense, hardly breathing, with all five senses converged into hearing,she stood flattened against the wall and strained to catch theirevery word. One voice was plainly Blake's. The other had a faintlyfamiliar quality, though she could not place it. This second man hadevidently come late, for their conversation was of a preliminary,beating-around-the-bush character--about the fierceness of the storm,and the additional security it lent their meeting.
Katherine searched her memory for the owner of this second voice. Shehad thought at first of Doctor Sherman, but this voice had not a tonein common with the young clergyman's clear, well-modulated baritone.This was a peculiar, bland, good-natured drawl. She had not heard itoften, but she had unmistakably heard it. As she ransacked her memoryit grew increasingly familiar, yet still eluded her. Then, all of asudden, she knew it, and she stood amazed.
The second voice was the voice of Blind Charlie Peck.
Katherine was well acquainted with the secret bi-partisan arrangementcommon in so many American cities, by which the righteous voter isdeluded into believing that there are two parties contending for theprivilege of giving him their best service, whereas in reality the twoare one, secretly allied because as a political trust they can mosteconomically and profitably despoil the people. Her first thought wasthat these ancient enemies, who for ten years had belaboured oneanother with such a realistic show of bitterness upon the politicalstage of Westville, had all along been friends and partners behindthe scenes. But of this idea she was presently disillusioned.
"Well, Mr. Blake, let's get down to business," Blind Charlie's voicefloated out to her. "You've had a day to think over my proposition.Now what have you got to say to it?"
There was a brief silence. When Blake did speak, Katherine coulddiscern in his repressed tone a keen aversion for his companion.
"My position is the same as last night. What you say is all guesswork.There is nothing in it."
Blind Charlie's voice was soft--purringly soft.
"Then why didn't you ask me to go to hell, and stay at home instead ofcoming out here?"
There was again a short silence.
"Come now," the soft voice persuaded, "let's don't go over what we didlast night. I know I'm right."
"I tell you you're only guessing," Blake doggedly returned. "Youhaven't a scrap of proof."
"I don't need proof, when I'm certain about a thing," gently returnedthe voice of Blind Charlie. "I've been in politics for forty-eightyears--ever since I was nineteen, when I cast my first vote. I've gotsharpened up considerable in that time, and while I haven't been inon much in the last ten years, I can still smell a fat deal cleanacross the state. For the last three months I've been smelling, andsmelling it keener every day, that you've got a rich game going."
"And so"--rather sarcastically--"you set Bruce on, to try to run thegame down!"
"Well, I would use a little different figure of speech," returnedBlind Charlie smoothly. "When I've got a coon up a hollow tree I builda fire in the hollow to bring him down. Bruce is my fire."
"And you think your coon is coming down?"
"I rather think he is. Don't you?"
"Well, I tell you he's not! For there's no coon up the tree!"
"I see I've got to state the thing to you again," said Blind Charliepatiently, and so softly that Katherine had to strain her utmost toget his words. "When I grew sure you had a big deal on about thewater-works, I saw that the only way to force you to let me in was toput you in a fix where you would either have to split up or be indanger of losing the whole thing. So I nominated Bruce. He's one ofthe easiest I ever took in; but, I tell you, he is certainly one hellof a fighter! That's what I nominated him for. You know as well as Ido the way he's swinging the voters round. It
beats anything I've everseen. If he keeps this up till election, and if I pull off a coupleof good tricks I've got all ready, he'll be a winner, sure! Andnow"--Blind Charlie's purring voice thrust out its claws--"either Iput Bruce in and smash your deal till it's not worth a damn, or elseyou come across!"
"There's nothing in it, I tell you!" declared Blake.
"There's no use keeping up that pretence," continued Blind Charlie."You've had a day to think over my proposition. You know perfectlywell what your choice is between: a sure thing if you divide with me,the risk of nothing if you refuse. So let's waste no more time. Come,which is it?"
There was a long silence.
"I understand," commented Blind Charlie, with a soft sympathy thatKatherine knew was meant to bite like acid. "It's hard for arespectable man like you to mix up with Charlie Peck. But politicalbusiness makes strange bed-fellows, and unless you're willing to sleepwith almost anybody you'd better keep out of this kind of businessaltogether. But after all," he added, "I guess it's better to share agood bed than to have no bed at all."
"What do you want?" Blake asked huskily.
"Only my share of the bed," blandly returned Blind Charlie.
"What's that, in plain words?"
"Not much. Only half of what you're going to make."
Blake exploded.
"Damn you, Peck, you're nothing but a damned blackmailer!"
"All right, I agree to that," said Blind Charlie. Then he added in hissoft voice: "But if I'm a blackmailer in this affair, then please, Mr.Blake, what do you call yourself?"
"You--you----" To the crouching figure outside the window Blake seemedto be half-choking. But suddenly he exploded again. "I'll not do it,Peck! I'll not do it--never while God's earth stands!"
"I guess you will, Blake!" Blind Charlie's voice was no longer soft;it had a slow, grating, crunching sound. "Damn your soul, you've beenacting toward me with your holier-than-thou reformer's attitude forten years. D'you think I'm a man to swallow that quietly? D'you thinkI haven't had it in for you all those ten years? Why, there hasn'tbeen a minute that I haven't been looking for my chance. And at lastI've got it! I've not only got a line on this water-works business,but I've found out all about your pretty little deal with Adamsonduring the last months you were Lieutenant-Governor!"
"Adamson!" ejaculated Blake.
"Yes, Adamson!" went on the harsh voice of Blind Charlie. "That hitsyou where you live, eh! You didn't know I had it, did you? Well, Ididn't till to-day--but I've got it now all right! There, my cards areall on the table. Look 'em over. I don't want Bruce elected any morethan you do; but either you do what I say, or by God I turn over toBruce all I know about the Adamson affair and all I know about thiswater-works deal! Now I give you just one minute to decide!"
Katherine breathlessly awaited the answer. A space passed. She heardBlind Charlie stand up.
"Time's up! Good night--and to hell with you!"
"Wait! Wait!" Blake cried.
"Then you accept?"
Blake's voice shook. "Before I answer, what do you want?"
"I've already told you. Half of what you get."
"But I'm to get very little."
"Very little!" Blind Charlie's voice was ironical; it had dropped itstone of crushing menace. "Very little! Now I figure that you'll getthe water-works for a third, or less, of their value. That'll give yousomething like half a million at the start-off, not to speak of theregular profits later on. Now as for me," he concluded drily, "Iwouldn't call that such a very little sum that I'd kick it out of myway if I saw it lying in the road."
"But no such sum is lying there."
"No? Then what do you get?"
Blake did not answer.
"Come, speak out!"
Blake's voice came with an effort.
"I'm not doing this for myself."
"Then who for?"
Blake hesitated, then again spoke with an effort.
"The National Electric & Water Company."
Blind Charlie swore in his surprise.
"But I reckon you're not doing it for them for charity?"
"No."
"Well, what for?"
Blake again remained silent.
"Come, what for?" impatiently demanded Charlie.
"For a seat in the Senate."
"That's no good to me. What else?"
"Fifty thousand dollars."
"The devil! Is that all?" ejaculated Blind Charlie.
"Everything."
Blind Charlie swore to himself for a moment. Then he fell into a deepsilence.
"Well, what's the matter?" Blake presently inquired.
"I was just wondering," replied Blind Charlie, slowly, "if it wouldn'tbe better to call this business off between you and me."
"Call it off?"
"Yes. I never imagined you were playing for such a little pile asfifty thousand. Since there's only fifty thousand in it"--his voicesuddenly rang out with vindictive triumph--"I was wondering if itwouldn't pay me better to use what I know to help elect Bruce."
"Elect Bruce?" cried Blake in consternation.
"Exactly. Show you up, and elect Bruce," said Blind Charlie coolly."To elect my mayor--there's more than fifty thousand for me in that."
There was a dismayed silence on Blake's part. But after a moment herecovered himself, and this time it was his voice that had the note ofascendency.
"You are forgetting one point, Mr. Peck," said he.
"Yes?"
"Bruce's election will not mean a cent to you. You will get nooffices. Moreover, the control of your party machinery will be sure topass from you to him."
"You're right," said the old man promptly. "See how quick I am toacknowledge the corn. However, after all," he added philosophically,"what you're getting is really enough for two. You take thesenatorship, and I'll take the fifty thousand. What do you say tothat?"
"What about Bruce--if I accept?"
"Bruce? Bruce is just a fire to smoke the coon out. When the cooncomes down, I put out the fire."
"You mean?"
"I mean that I'll see that Bruce don't get elected."
"You'll make sure about that?"
"Oh, you just leave Bruce to me!" said Blind Charlie with grimconfidence. "And now, do you accept?"
Blake was silent. He still shrunk from this undesirable alliance.Outside, Katherine again breathlessly hung upon his answer.
"What do you say?" demanded the old man sharply. "Do you accept? Or doI smash you?"
"I accept--of course."
"And we'll see this thing through together?"
"Yes."
"Then here you are. Let's shake on it."
They talked on, dwelling on details of their partnership, Katherinemissing never a word.
At length, their agreement completed, they left the room, andKatherine slipped from the window across into the trees and made suchhaste as she could through the night and the storm to where she hadleft her horse. She heard one car go slowly out the entrance of thegrove, its lamps dark that its visit might not be betrayed, and sheheard it turn cautiously into the back-country road. After a littlewhile she saw a glare shoot out before the car--its lamps had beenlighted--and she saw it skim rapidly away. Soon the second car creptout, took the high back-country pike, and repeated the same tactics.
Then Katherine untied Nelly, mounted, and started slowly homewardalong the River Road.