Call Down The Hawk

by Richard Folmar

“Not a who, Maam,” Hand said. “She was a two stacker stern wheeler that blew a boiler coming into port.”

  “You don’t say?” she said.

  “Yes Maam. I do say. She was out of Tampico and her deck was full of Mexican steers. There were parts and guts of them cows flung all over that town. It warn’t a pretty sight.”

  The Axson cousin quickly covered her mouth with a handkerchief and hurried off down the porch to find refuge on the other side of her cousin, Ellen Wilson.

  For the most part a happy weariness had settled over the President’s party on the south porch. They were content to watch the fireworks in silence. Then, this mood suddenly changed to concerns voiced when a sudden gust of wind caused sparks to shower down on the spectators on the lawn. Members in the Presidential party relaxed when a uniformed guard came up and reported to the President that there were no injuries.

  In the adjacent State, War and Navy Building, the windows were crowded with onlookers transfixed by the fireworks. There were two persons, down in the dark recesses of the drafting room of the Navy Bureau of Steam Engineering, however, whose attention was on something other than fireworks.

  The carefully shielded circle of light from a coal oil lantern flickered from one drafting table to another, finally stopping when its holder uttered a whispered exclamation of triumph. The second figure quickly joined the lantern holder and peering at the table asked in a low voice, “How do you know if it is them?”

  “Use your eyes, fool! See, it says right here, ‘U.S.S. Pennsylvania! That’s the new super dreadnought and these are diagrams of its fire control system.”

  “We’d better be right. I don’t want no trouble with that jasper that hired us.”

  “Don’t worry Boy-O, and lookee here! This ought to be worth a fine bonus.”

  “Huh? Whotcha talking about?”

  “These plans right here. Look, we not only have the firecontrol plans but with these, we got the deck plans, turret foundations and hatches for this darling super dreadnought.”

  “Looks to me just like a lot of ink scratchings.”

  The first man was busy folding up the linen sheets containing the drawings and thrusting them into his overcoat pocket. He looked at his companion with scorn. “I didn’t spend eight years in the stinking Navy for nothing. Come on, lad, I don’t hear no more fireworks. We’d better clear out of here.”

  They moved quickly with practice out of the Bureau and into the dark corridor. After carefully re-locking the door, they moved up to the next floor, dumping the lantern in an unlocked closet door just in time to mingle with the crowd of spectators coming down from the floor above. They filed outside with the crowd and walked around the building to the 17th Street side where they were lucky to catch one of the waiting taxis.

  They left it at Scott’s Circle where, as planned, a long black touring car was parked just off the south side on Rhode Island. Trying to appear casual, they approached the car whose buttoned down side curtains hid the interior. A rap on the driver’s door resulted in it being opened just enough for a gloved hand to reach out.

  “Did you get it? Give it to me!” the driver demanded.

  “First, the money, your honor,” the leader of the two burglars said.

  The gloved hand withdrew momentarily and returned holding an envelope. “Here is your money, twenty-five dollars and the other twenty-five after I look them over.”

  “Not enough, sir, we done brung you a little something extra: the deck, foundation, turret, and hatch plans, as well as the fire control plans. Seems that’s worth another twenty-five, don’t you think?”

  There was some hesitation from the driver before he said, “Very well, if the plans check out, I will add another twenty-five. Now hand over those plans and be quick about it, or I leave.”

  The plans were handed through the door. The driver said, “Now step off to one side while I look them over.” The door shut and a small light was turned on inside. Five minutes later and the door opened and the hand held out the agreed money. The head burglar snatched and quickly counted the bills. Touching the brim of his hat, he said with a smirk, “Nice doing business with your honor.”

  The door was pulled shut and the driver pressed the electric starter. The motor of the big machine caught with a roar, but the driver’s anxiety to get away resulted in clumsy operation of the vehicle. The gears made a nerve wracking protest and the poor coordination with the clutch and accelerator caused the big car to make a series of jerky moves until the machine finally shot forward into the Circle where it swung right and disappeared down Massachusetts Avenue.

  Inside, the driver, Lieutenant Paul Dohrman, cursed Captain Karl Boy-Ed. His superior had not only ordered him to carry out this distasteful business tonight but he had been forced him to give up the carefully structured evening with Annaliese. There would have been a delightful dinner at the Shoreham, hopefully followed by a return to her apartment for a night cap and then a move into her bedroom for a long anticipated love making.

  He wasn’t even given time to phone her and apologize. Karl said not to worry, he would phone Fraulein Faver for him and explain why he would not be able to make it, and express your sincere regrets. Somehow this gesture on Boy-Ed’s part was even more cause to worry.

  16

  AT THE CONCLUSION OF THE Inaugural Parade, Will and Mary Bryan walked the short distance back to the New Willard Hotel. In their suite, they rejoiced at being blessedly alone after having tenaciously stuck by the President and his party on the wooden platform to watch the parade. It would undoubtedly go down in the record books as the longest in inaugural history, beginning in the afternoon with the military formations and marching bands that were still passing the White House at 7:00 p.m. Not a few of the cabinet members and their wives gave up the vigil long before that time.

  Will had shucked off the black frock coat he had worn during the day’s events and was sitting in the leather upholstered oak rocker when Mary emerged from their bedroom wearing a warm robe and came to stand by her husband.

  “One must say it was certainly impressive, even if it was much too long,” she said.

  Will Bryan looked up at his wife with concern. “How thoughtless of me to put you through it, my dear; on top of every thing else today, it must have been an ordeal. I certainly could have found some transportation to bring you back to the hotel.”

  “Nonsense, save your sympathy for that poor man who had to stand throughout the parade.”

  “Indeed, I thought him looking a bit wan toward the end. You know, Mary, I am proud of him. I think we have a fine President in Mr. Wilson. That part of his address this morning where he declared this to be a day of dedication. How did he put it? ‘Here muster, not the forces of party, but the forces of humanity—”

  Mary finished it for him. “Men’s hearts wait upon us; men’s lives hang in the balance; men’s hopes call upon us to say what we will do.”

  “Yes, that is it.”

  “Those words sounded like pure Bryan, my dearest.”

  “A dedication to action, yes, they conceivably could have been mine.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder. “I always thought it would be you standing up there taking those salutes, Will.” When he said nothing, she added with more force, “It should have been you!”

  “Mary, please—”

  “In that procession afterward down Pennsylvania Avenue back to the White House, you received more applause from the crowd than he did.”

  “That was embarrassing.”

  “Why? You earned it. You’ve done so much for the Democratic Party and kept it viable.”

  Will reached out and took her hand, “Momma, we have to let that dream go. The Good Lord never intended that I be president, but I think it clear that he has different work for me to do as secretary of state of this great nation.”

>   “I think I know what that work is to be.”

  “Of course, you do. In the vineyards of world peace, my dear. A world without war, can you think of a more noble charge? And I have in mind a plan, which if adopted will go a long way toward accomplishing that goal.”

  She leaned over and kissed the top of her husband’s bald head. “You are a good man, Will Bryan, and I love you. Now, my dear, I think we should go to bed. We have a big day tomorrow. It is your swearing in ceremony at the State Department and our reception tomorrow night.” She had turned toward the bedroom when Will brought her up short.

  “I just remember something I had forgotten to tell you. I ran into Seth Cane today at the Capitol. He was with that young Langdon girl.”

  “Seth! How did he look? I’ve wondered how he was getting along after Elizabeth’s tragic death.”

  “He seemed to be adjusting quite well. You know, I think I can use the services of that young man for a delicate mission that I have in mind. The President and I have a pernicious problem in Mexico that will have to be dealt with the utmost discretion. The more I think on it, Seth has the discretion and also knowledge of Spanish and will fit the bill very nicely.”

  “That’s nice, dear, “Mary said, and turned back toward the bedroom.

  “I invited him and that Langdon girl to our reception tomorrow night. I hope it doesn’t upset things for you.”

  She placed her hand on her cheek as a gesture of concern. “Oh my, I am afraid we’re sadly overbooked with guests as it is. You remember, I asked you if you wanted me to send him an invitation and you said no, because it was probably too far for him to travel.”

  “I know. That was before I thought of this mission. I let on that we had sent him an invitation.”

  “Will Bryan, you ought to be ashamed.”

  He picked up a copy of the Washington Post and started to peruse the front page. “Now, Momma, this is Washington D.C., not Lincoln , Nebraska. You know from past experience that you always have more people show up than you planned for. Two more won’t make any substantial difference. We will just have the hotel send up some more of those little sandwiches and another case of grape juice.”

  17

  THE SCENE WAS PLEASANTLY DOMESTIC. Molly, her face glowing with a freshly scrubbed look, her short hair neatly brushed to a golden sheen, was seated across from him at the breakfast table in the little alcove off the kitchen. They coddled mugs of hot black coffee just cheerfully refilled by Olivia. Bessie Mae and Henry Dalworth had not yet made an appearance and Molly chose that moment to renew her protest over Seth’s announcement that he would be leaving this morning for Oklahoma.

  “Well, if you ask me, sir, I think that is the most ridiculous idea I ever heard of. There is no plausible reason why you have to leave today, and there is one good reason why you should not.”

  “Which is?”

  “You promised to take me to the Bryans’ reception tonight.”

  “That’s odd. I don’t remember making any such promise.”

  “Maybe, in not so many words, but it was implied.”

  “How so, Miss Langdon?”

  “At the Capitol, yesterday. We were both invited by Mr. Bryan. He told you to bring me, remember? And, when you agreed—”

  “Huh?”

  “You didn’t tell him no,” she accused.

  He sighed and tried again. “Molly, don’t you understand that I have got to get back home and start earning a living again?”

  “Not today, you don’t. You could go tomorrow or next week. Seth, I—we want you to stay with us a little longer. We don’t know when you can get back here.”

  “Molly, please—”

  He saw that her eyes were becoming moist. “Seth, it’s her, isn’t it?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That Faver woman. You went to see her last night and something must have happened, you were back here too early. I heard you come in and slam your door.”

  “Hey, young lady, nothing happened.”

  “Exactly. That’s why you want to leave.”

  “I didn’t slam that door.”

  “Did too. What happened? Didn’t she offer any of her favors?”

  “Didn’t who offer any of her favors?” Bessie Mae said, standing in the doorway with the Congressman.

  Molly shifted smoothly into, “Mother, Seth wants to leave us today and go back to Oklahoma. Tell him that is a stupid idea!”

  Bessie Mae and Henry Dalworth sat down at the table. She looked at Seth and said, “I’ll do nothing of the sort, but I do urge you to reconsider leaving so soon.”

  “As I tried to tell your daughter, I’ve got to get back and start making some money.”

  “OK, but why tomorrow? You have scarcely seen Washington, and I was planning an intimate dinner party for Champ Clark and his wife, with you as the special guest.”

  “I’m most flattered, but really—”

  With “harrumph!” as a preamble, Henry Dalworth laid down his fork and fixed Seth with a stern look. “I shouldn’tthink leaving today is a wise move, Seth. I talked briefly with Will Bryan yesterday at the Capitol. When I mentioned you were staying with us, he told me in strictest confidence, you understand, that he had something very special in mind for you—you being a long time and deserving Democrat.”

  “See?” Molly exclaimed triumphantly.

  Bessie Mae gave her daughter a reproving stare. She laid her hand over Seth’s on the table. “Might be worth tarrying here a bit longer, dear friend.”

  Olivia, back with her coffee pot in hand, cleared her throat. “Pardon me, Mr. Seth, but I know another very practical reason why you should not try to go today.”

  “You too, Olivia?”

  “Every train leaving this city today is going to be crowded to the gills with folks anxious to get home. Unless you already got your ticket, I expect it’s going to be next to impossible to buy one for today.”

  “Dead right! Thank you, Olivia,” Molly exclaimed. “What better reason do you need to stay, Seth? You don’t have your ticket, do you?”

  Seth groaned and raised his hands in surrender. “No, I haven’t bought a ticket yet. OK, OK, I can’t win. You are going to have me on your hands for a couple of days longer. Now, aren’t you sorry?”

  A chorus of boos greeted this last.

  “Now, as for this Bryan thing, I doubt that it is anything more serious than giving a political hack job to a so called deserving Democrat. I am not interested in some deadly desk job in some huge department of government. It is just not my line of country.” As Henry Dalworth opened his mouth, to protest, he quickly added, “But, Henry, I’ll do you and Will the courtesy of finding out what he has in mind, thank you. As for you, Miss Molly, I will honor my so called promise, and take you to the party tonight.”

  “And my dinner for you and the Champ Clarks?’ Bessie Mae asked.

  Seth smiled wryly. “I reckon, that, too, depending on when it is, although I can’t imagine the Speaker will be too thrilled to break bread with me. I wasn’t too kindly toward his candidacy at the Convention.

  “Stuff and nonsense,” Henry Dalworth exclaimed. “Champ has nothing against you because you worked for Wilson.”

  Bessie Mae joined in, “Certainly not you, Seth, but I can’t say the same for Will Bryan. Champ’s still pretty damned angry over that underhanded speech tarring him with the Wall Street crowd. I must say, with good reason.”

  Seth restrained from rising to the defense of his mentor. He knew for a fact that the purported deal between the Clark people and the Tammany and Wall Street boys was no rumor. That speech of Bryan’s was significant in saving the Progressive nature of the convention. For the sake of his hostess, he kept his mouth shut.

  18

  BRYAN’S OFFICIAL SWEARING
IN OCCURRED at 4:00 that afternoon at the State Department. Annaliese Faver elected to cover this one herself and not trust it to her employee, Menglehoffer. After all, the office of Secretary of State was considered the number one cabinet post and, traditionally, whoever held it sat to the right of the President in cabinet meetings. In addition, this Secretary of State was a powerful figure in the Democratic Party, as she had learned covering the National Democratic Convention in Baltimore last year. She was convinced that William Jennings Bryan was going to be the one cabinet member to watch.

  The ceremony was short and sweet. Bryan stood erect, his right hand on the Bible as Mr. McNeir, Chief Clerk of the department, administered the oath of office. His family stood in a group behind him, including Mary, his son, a law student at the University of Washington and his daughter and her husband. To the left stood the career Assistant Secretaries, Mr. Adee, Mr. Hale and Mr. Carr of the Consular Service.

  Annaliese’s attention, however, was drawn to another department official who stood in a group behind the career Assistant Secretaries. Throughout the ceremony this wizened little man, who appeared to be in his fifties, had an expression that could only be interpreted as one of contempt. She nudged one of her fellow reporters and asked who that man might be. He whispered that it was Mr. Croy Wister, Chief Clerk of the division concerned with Latin America. She thought, this one is no friend of this new administration. He just might be a valuable source of information about what Bryan will be up to. Her attention turned back to Bryan who was now signing the oath with a stub pen, which he then presented to his son-in-law.

  The affair was officially over and Bryan strolled toward Annaliese and the other reporters. “I want to thank you gentlemen of the press for being here and I just want you to know that I will always be glad to receive you in the interest of the public service.”

  “I hope that invitation extends to the women of the press as well as to these gentlemen, Mr. Secretary,” Annaliese said, a bit more forcefully than she had intended. Several of her colleagues let out audible groans. She turned and bestowed a sweet smile upon them.