Call Down The Hawk

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Call Down The Hawk Page 11

by Richard Folmar


  “Yes, yes.” Woodrow Wilson said, peering sternly at Seth through the steel framed glasses. Then his features relaxed into a warm smile. “I have had some favorable reports on you, Mr. Cane. Welcome to Washington, sir. Actually, I feel more than a little foolish in welcoming anybody, since I am as much a newcomer here, as perhaps you are.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President,” Seth said. “It is my sincerest hope that from last Tuesday forward, Democrats will never have to feel like strangers in this city again.”

  Bryan clapped in approval. “Well said, my boy. Well put.”

  The President’s eyes flickered momentarily in the direction of his Secretary of State, then over to Joseph Tumulty who had silently entered by the door.

  “You pushed the button, sir?”

  “Yes, Mr. Tumulty, would you be so good as to call Dr. Grayson and inform him that my brother-in-law, Mr. Axson and I will join him for golf at 2:00 p.m. straight up this afternoon?”

  “Yes, sir,” Joe Tumulty replied and turned to leave but stopped when the President called out, “And, Mr. Tumulty, would you please send a note around to Dr. Anna Howard Shaw that I will be unable to meet with her delegation of suffragettes this week but will try to arrange something in the near future.”

  “That I will, Mr. President. They are still miffed that your speech on Tuesday said nothing about votes for women.”

  “I know they are,” Wilson said dryly. “Mr. Tumulty, will you see that we are not disturbed for the next twenty minutes. Thank you.” He turned back to Seth and Bryan. “Again, I must apologize for my brief digression, gentlemen, but now to business. Mr. Bryan, have you discussed our little problem with Mr. Cane?”

  “Just background, but no details, sir.”

  The President said, “As the Secretary of State mentioned earlier, this is a matter of the most sensitive nature. I don’t propose to talk you into this mission against your better judgment, or to the exclusion of other plans you might have, and I have no reason to believe that Mr. Bryan will do likewise. However, I put it to you that time is somewhat important with regard to your decision. Your acceptance will save us a great deal of effort in trying to locate another acceptable candidate.”

  “If I may be curious, Mr. President, what makes me an acceptable candidate?”

  The President looked at Bryan and frowned. “Aside from the fact that you are a practicing lawyer, presumably with the experience and skills to determine relevancy from irrelevancy,

  I am told your mother was Mexican and you are passably equipped with the Spanish language. I am also aware you demonstrated a commendable degree of physical courage at the Baltimore Convention. Finally, and most importantly, you are unknown to the people at the American Embassy in Mexico City and will obviously appear to be one of Mr. Bryan’s patronage appointments to do a rather pedestrian job concerning our citizens’ claims.”

  “Secretary Bryan told me that would be the ostensible purpose of an assignment down there.”

  “Ostensible, true but none the less real. We will be expecting a comprehensive report on the progress and extent of those claims against General Huerta’s government. The actual work is underway by our consular service, who will be instructed to provide you any assistance you require in preparing your report. Knowledge of your other purpose down there must be strictly limited, in your judgment, to those actually necessary to your inquiry. If your actual mission should become public, it’s possible that we may have to deny any knowledge of it, as much as that would be distasteful, and, if deemed prudent and necessary, to officially suggest that the inquiry was something entirely initiated by you. Do you understand, Mr. Cane?”

  “I reckon I know what you mean, Mr. President.”

  “Very good,” the President said, looking at Bryan. “Before I discuss any details of your assignment, I would now like to have your decision concerning your willingness to undertake this little task.” Both the President and Bryan looked at him expectantly.

  “You fellows don’t give a guy much time in which to exercise his better judgment. However, since I have no other significant plans at the moment that would conflict with my agreeing to the job, I do accept it, under the conditions you have set forth.”

  The President looked at Bryan and smiled. “Very good,

  Mr. Cane, your President and government appreciates your willingness to serve in this confidential capacity.”

  “Just how do I proceed, sir?”

  The President leaned back in his chair and said, “Mr. Bryan.”

  “Seth,” Bryan said, shifting to face him, “In five days you will proceed to Vera Cruz by one of our navy vessels. From there you will travel by train to Mexico City and any other place in that country you deem necessary in order to accomplish your mission.”

  “And my specific mission is?” Seth asked.

  “To find out if there is any evidence to support the allegation of the Madero family that our Ambassador Henry Lane Wilson was involved in the overthrow of President Madero or in his and Vice President Suarez’s murder. Secondly, If there was evidence of the Ambassador’s collusion in those two events , did our State Department play any role in what happened?”

  “I understand, sir. But with regard to the second part, wouldn’t the answer be more likely found in the records of your department?”

  “Most certainly, and I will be checking. However, if true, it is possible something might have also surfaced there in Mexico City.”

  “Is that all, Mr. Secretary?”

  The President interrupted. “I have a personal request, Mr. Cane. I would like your independent assessment of General Huerta—not of his background or history, you understand. I already have that lot. Nor am I interested in his current machinations, but rather your private and personal evaluation of that man. I am getting a lot of pressure from some members of the Senate, certain oil interests and prominent ranching interests in Texas and New Mexico, your brother included, for me to recognize Huerta as the legitimate head of the Mexican government.”

  Seth looked at him, surprised. “My brother Zack wants Huerta recognized?”

  “He is among the other ranchers who want a stable government in Mexico where they own ranches, even if it has to be bought at the price of recognizing a dictator who murdered his way into office,” Bryan answered.

  “I wasn’t aware that my brother had any interests in Mexico.”

  “I gather from his letter last week, that he has recently purchased a Spanish hacienda in Chihuahua,” the President said with a hint of impatience.

  “However, to return to my special request, it is sufficient for you to know that I am less than satisfied with Ambassador Wilson’s characterization of the Francisco Madero and Pino Suarez assassinations as a closed book.”

  “Do you have any questions, Mr. Cane?” the President asked.

  “No, Mr. President—except maybe one.”

  “Yes?”

  “Is there any payment for this job?”

  The President almost smiled. He looked at Bryan and said, “I am sure you and Mr. Bryan can work out some modest recompense for your services.”

  Seth glanced at Bryan not exactly comfortable with the President’s term, “modest”. Bryan smiled, nodding in confirmation.

  “Very well, then the matter is settled, Mr. Cane. I wish you Godspeed and a safe and successful mission. I am counting on your good judgment and discretion in handling this matter.”

  It was a dismissal and Seth and Bryan stood. “Thank you, Mr. President,” they voiced simultaneously. As they turned to leave, the President stopped them. “Oh yes, I almost forgot to mention there may be some hint of danger down there, so I have arranged for you a bodyguard who will also serve as your assistant.”

  A bodyguard! Why in blazes do I need a bodyguard? “Mr. President, a bodyguard is not necessary.”
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br />   “Nevertheless, you will have one. I think you know him. He was my personal bodyguard during the campaign and a remarkable fellow, a former Texas Ranger with the odd name of Mr. Handsome Comfort.”

  Seth grinned. “Thank you, Mr. President. Hand and I are old saddle buddies. You are right. He is a most remarkable fellow.”

  They were almost back to the State Department when Seth realized that Bryan had been speaking to him. “Beg pardon, Will. I was wool gathering . What did you say?”

  “I was asking,” Bryan said puffing somewhat, “Is it necessary we walk so fast?”

  “Sorry. Reckon I’m eager to get to work.”

  “Well, you can start tomorrow at ten o’clock sharp when I shall expect you to be at the department for a briefing on the current Mexican situation and to take care of the necessary administrative matters needed to get you on your way and to arrange for your modest remuneration.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t keep using that word, ‘modest’.”

  Will Bryan didn’t smile. “You will ask for Mr. Croy Wister in the Latin American Division. I’m putting you in his hands for the next few days before you leave.”

  23

  THERE WERE OTHER HOUSE GUESTS at the Langdons when Seth arrived back from the State Department. The Fraley Potter Simpsons had arrived with the four grandchildren from Philadelphia. Arlene, Fraley’s wife, was the Langdons’ oldest daughter. She was seven years older than Molly and was the image of her mother, plump of figure, but missing the classic structure of face that had made Bessie Mae Bannister one of the most courted women of Locust Dale, Virginia. Arlene did share with her mother a directness of expression that sometimes carried the sting of insensitivity. Her first greeting to Seth was of this nature.

  “Seth Cane, how’s life since Elizabeth’s death? Have any of those long legged Oklahoma gals got you between the sheets yet?”

  It was clear that very few of the rough edges of upbringing on that Texas ranch had been honed smooth by marriage and life in Philadelphia.

  Molly flared, “What’s the matter with you, Arlene! That’s awful. You don’t say things like that when a person has just been bereaved.” “Aw, relax, sister dear. Seth knew I didn’t mean anything by it, didn’t you cowboy?”

  “It’s OK, Molly. Reckon I know Arlene pretty well,” Seth said. “How have you been, Arlene?”

  “Well, Fraley hasn’t kept me barefoot, but as you can see, he’s sure as heck kept me pregnant. Four younguns and another on the way.”

  “Arlene!” Bessie Mae, coming into the room, shrieked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was saving it for later, but Seth and Molly egged me into it.”

  Molly gasped. “We did not, Momma!”

  The three women exited with excited chattering up the stairs, leaving Seth and Fraley Potter Simpson staring at one another.

  “I reckon you’re to be congratulated, Mr. Simpson,” Seth said.

  He looked puzzled but smiled anyway. “Please call me Fraley, Seth. For what am I being congratulated?”

  “On your forthcoming child.”

  Fraley nodded. “Oh, that. When you’ve had four, one gets rather accustomed to the whole thing. I was one of seven in my family. You have any children, Seth?”

  “Yes, one fifteen year old daughter. She will be attending school here in Washington.”

  “Well, I assume you and your wife will probably be having more than the just one daughter.”

  You must not have been listening to your wife earlier, Fraley. He didn’t bother to comment on his gaff. Instead, he asked, “What kind of business are you in, Fraley?” He was not much different in size from his wife, his girth tending to paunchiness. He had a moon shaped face, with unnaturally rosy cheeks and a mouth too small for the teeth revealed when he smiled.

  Fraley reached into his inside jacket pocket in answer to Seth’s question and handed him a business card.

  “P.P. MAST COMPANY

  SPRINGFIELD, OHIO AND PHILADELPHIA

  MANUFACTURE OF THE WORLD FAMOUS

  BUCKEYE GRAIN DRILL

  FRALEY POTTER SIMPSON REGIONAL

  SALES MGR.

  “Most impressive,” Seth said and offered it back to Fraley. “No, no, you may keep it,” he protested. “Morris Garvin, he’s the printer just two doors down from our sales room. Does them real cheap—fifty cents for three hundred. Say, if you ever need any business cards, I can get them for you at the same rate.”

  Seth was grateful for the interruption coming by the return of the three ladies, and also Henry Dalworth, who had just returned from Capitol Hill. Bessie Mae suggested that they move into the dining room.

  After dinner, Bessie Mae, to Seth’s embarrassment, rapped a spoon against her wine glass to obtain attention. “I have an announcement, my dears. We have a very important person with us at the table tonight.” Everyone looked around puzzled, finally settling on the one non-family person. “Yes, it is our own Seth.” Seth was seated on her right and she reached over and grabbed his left hand. “He was appointed today by Secretary of State, William Jennings Bryan, as his personal assistant. What do you think of that?”

  Molly, smiling broadly, took possession of his right hand. “Hold on folks!” Seth protested. “I’m afraid Bessie Mae has misinterpreted my new job. I am not Mr. Bryan’s personal assistant. I will just be a temporary employee of the department. No way important, I assure you.”

  “Oh please,” Molly said. “Spare us your humility, Seth. The Secretary of State does not send just any old unimportant temporary employee all the way down to Mexico on a secret mission, does he?”

  Seth stared at her in shock. Secret mission? Mexico? What in hell—

  “Mission? What’s this about a secret mission, Seth?” Henry Dalworth came alert from nursing his bourbon and water.

  Seth gave Molly a sharp look of reproof and turned to the Congressman with a deprecating laugh. “Henry, I don’t know where your daughter gets her information. Will is sending me and Hand down to Mexico for a couple of weeks to perform a pretty dull and routine job of assessing the progress of the claims of our citizens for loss of life and property damage during the recent fighting in Mexico City. Nothing so romantic, Molly, I assure you.”

  The Congressman grunted. “Well, if Will Bryan thinks it is necessary, then I reckon the job is important enough.”

  As the family adjourned to the sitting room, Seth grabbed Molly’s arm and pulled her, not unwillingly, into the foyer. “Miss Langdon, may I have a word with you?”

  She smiled at him. “You may have as many words and anything else you may desire.”

  “Molly, stop that! Just how do you know about my assignment to Mexico. I just received the briefing this morning from Bryan and I don’t remember saying anything to you at lunch other than I had a possible temporary job with the department.”

  She gave him a tight superior smile. “I have my sources of information, Mr. Cane.”

  “No, listen, Molly, it’s important. I really want to know. The details of my trip are not known outside of Bryan’s office. I am curious, that’s all.”

  “Oh all right, if you are going to get testy. I have a friend—a young lieutenant in the Navy Department—some bureau or other having to do with transportation. Well, I ran into him at the tea dance in the Shoreham and I mentioned your name as a friend going to work for the State Department. He said that was a coincidence, that early in the afternoon he had just cut top priority orders for you and some other gentleman for passage aboard the Navy ship, Dolphin to Vera Cruz in a few days. Really Seth, it was just a coincidence.”

  “Where did you come up with this nonsense about a secret mission?”

  “Oh, I just threw that in to juice up your assignment to make jealous that nosy sister of mine and that seed planter husband of hers.”
<
br />   Seth relaxed. Molly was telling the truth and it looked like his and Hand’s mission had probably not been compromised. Just the same, he hoped she wouldn’t go around repeating that story.

  “Am I under suspicion for revealing state secrets, sir?”

  “No,” he grinned. “We won’t get to shoot you this time.”

  “Say, I was just thinking.”

  They turned toward the voice to see Fraley standing there. Damn! How long has he been there? Seth mentally kicked himself.

  “What were you thinking, brother-in-law?” Molly asked.

  “Seth, do you have any contacts down there in Mexico?” Fraley asked. “We’ve been trying to break into that market with our Buckeye Grain Drill for a long time.”

  Seth looked at Molly, who was trying not to laugh. “Afraid not, Fraley. I have never been to Mexico.”

  “Sure could use a foot in that door and you might just be our man. Would you be interested? I’ll give you a box of our brochures, order forms and some of my cards to take with you. We’ve got a new seed drill coming out in May that’s a humdinger. Could be some nice commissions in it for you, Seth. Wouldn’t take much of your time. What do you say, old man?”

  “Why Fraley, that’s very nice of you,” Molly said. “Seth, you just might think about it. After your temporary job expires, I’m sure Fraley could find a place in the sales staff of P.P. Mast and Company.”

  “By George,” Fraley said. “I think I can arrange something there.”

  Seth gave Molly a warning look and turned to Fraley. “Darned nice of you, Fraley, but after the job with the State Department, I have an offer from D.W. Griffith in California to go to work in his movie company.”

  Fraley was impressed. “Really? That’s great. Wait a minute! We also need to break into the California market—”

  “Sorry, Fraley,” Seth said. “It just wouldn’t work out.”

  Fraley opened his mouth to argue that point, but Arlene just joined them in the foyer. “I just wanted to ask you, Seth, I’ve been thinking of your brother Zack. You’ve got his height but don’t look much like him, otherwise. You have a much darker, almost foreign complexion.”

 

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