The Enchanted Canyon

by Honoré Willsie Morrow

  "How about the reporter who's said to be on my trail?" asked Enoch.

  "He's prowling round on the river, running up an expense account twenty-three hours and making up lies on the twenty-fourth. Capp told Mr. Cheney that this reporter, whose name is Ames, I believe, was to write nothing until his return to New York. Mr. Secretary, can't something be done to shut him off?"

  "Yes," replied Enoch, sternly. The two men were silent for a moment, then Enoch said with a sudden lighting of his blue eyes. "Where are you stopping, old man."

  "I haven't located the cheapest hotel in Washington yet. When I do, that'll be where I'll stop. You remember we used to speak our minds on the salaries the Department paid."

  "I remember," chuckled Enoch. "Well, Milton, the cheapest stopping place in Washington is over at Judge Smith's place. I believe you have the address. By the way, have you seen Jonas?"

  "No, but I want to," replied Milton.

  Enoch pressed the button, and Jonas' black head popped in at the door. As his eyes fell on Milton, they began to bulge.

  "The Lord have mercy! How come you didn't tell me, boss--" he began. Then he rushed across the room and shook hands. "Mr. Milton, I'd rather see you than my own brother. Did you find any pieces of the Na-che?"

  "No, Jonas, but I've got some fine pictures in my trunk of you shooting rapids in the old boat."

  "No! My Lordy! Where's your trunk, Mr. Milton?"

  "Jonas," said Enoch, "you get Mr. Milton's trunk check and--but he says he's going to a hotel."

  Jonas looked at Milton, indignantly. "Going to a hotel! How come you to try to insult the boss' and my house, Mr. Milton? Huh! Hotel! Huh!"

  He took the check and left the room, still snorting. Milton rose. "I mustn't intrude any longer, Mr. Secretary."

  "Luckily I'm free, to-night," said Enoch. "We'll have a great talk. Ask Cheney to come in, please."

  "Mr. Cheney," asked Enoch, when Milton had gone, "do you think you could find out whether or not that fellow Ames has returned from Arizona?"

  "Yes, we can do that without much trouble. Was Milton able to straighten matters up with you, Mr. Secretary?"

  "He didn't have to. I'm an ardent admirer of Milton's. He's going to stop at my house, while he's in Washington. Why don't you take him out of the field and begin to groom him for your job, Mr. Cheney? He should be ready for it in a few years."

  Cheney nodded. "He's a good man. I'll think it over. And I will telephone Abbott about Ames."

  It was fortunate for Enoch that Milton was with him that evening, for the knowledge that Diana was in Washington and that he could not see her was quite as agonizing as he had suspected it would be. Yet it was impossible not to enjoy Milton's continual surprise and pleasure at the change in the Judge's identity and it was a real delight to make once more the voyage to the Ferry not only for its own sake but because with the landing at the Ferry came much conversation on the part of Jonas and Milton about Diana. But Enoch did not sleep well that night and reached his office in the morning, heavy-eyed and grim.

  Abbott, standing beside the Secretary's desk was even more grim. "Mr. Cheney was too slow getting us the information about Ames," he said, pointing to the newspaper that lay on the desk.

  Enoch lighted a cigar very deliberately, then began to read. It was a detailed account of the vacation trip of the Secretary of the Interior. It was written with devilish ingenuity, purporting to show that Enoch in his hours of relaxation was a thorough-going good fellow. The account said that Enoch had picked up a mining outfit made up of two notorious gamblers. That the three had then annexed two Indian bucks and a squaw and had slowly made their way into the Grand Canyon, ostensibly to placer mine, actually to play cards and hunt. The story was witty, and contained some good word pictures of the Canyon country. It was subtle in its wording, but it was from first to last an unforgettable smirching of Enoch's character.

  Enoch laid the paper down. "Abbott," he said slowly, "the time has come to act. I want Mr. Fowler, Mr. Brown, this fellow Ames, or whatever reporter wrote the first article about me to come to my office tomorrow afternoon at five o'clock. If it is necessary to ask the President for authority to bring them here, I shall ask for it."

  Abbott's eyes glowed. "Thank God, at last!" he exclaimed. "Shall I prepare a denial of this stuff."

  "No! At least they have left Miss Allen out. We may be thankful and let it stand at that. Now, start the procession in, Abbott. I'm in no mood to dictate letters."

  Enoch threw himself into the day's work with burning intensity. About three o'clock, he told Abbott to deny all visitors that he might devote himself to an Alaskan report.

  "Mr. Milton just rushed in. Will you let him have a moment?" asked Charley.

  "Yes, but--" here Milton came in unceremoniously.

  "Mr. Huntingdon," he said, "I've just finished lunching with Miss Allen. We are both nearly frantic over this morning's paper. You must let us publish the truth."

  "No," thundered Enoch. "You know the Brown papers. If they discovered what Miss Allen did for us all at the Ferry, how she led me back to El Tovar, what would they do with it?"

  Abbott looked from Enoch to Milton in astonishment. Milton started to speak, but Enoch interrupted, "You are, of course, thinking that I should have thought of that long before, when I asked her to let me go back to El Tovar with her. But I didn't! I had been in the Canyon long enough to have forgotten what could be made of my adventure by bad minds. I was a cursed fool, moving in a fool's paradise and I must take my punishment. If ever--"

  Jonas opened the door from the outer office. "The President, Mr. Secretary," he said.

  Enoch started toward the telephone, but Jonas spoke impatiently--"No! No! not that."

  "The President of what, Jonas!" asked Abbott.

  Jonas lifted his chest and flung the door wide. "The President of the United States of America," he announced, and the President came in.

  Enoch rose. "Don't let me disturb you, Mr. Secretary. I can wait," said the chief executive.

  "We were quite finished, Mr. President. May I, I wonder, introduce Mr. Milton to you, the geologist whom Brown said headed the drunken expedition down the Colorado."

  The President looked keenly at Milton as they shook hands. "Mr. Huntingdon took great pains to deny that story, publicly," he said. "Can't you persuade him, Mr. Milton, to do as much for himself, to-day."

  "That's exactly why I'm here, Mr. President!" exclaimed Milton. "But he's absolutely obdurate!"

  Jonas came into the room and spoke to Enoch softly. "Mr. Fowler's office is on the outside wire, Mr. Secretary. I wouldn't connect in here while the President was here. Mr. Fowler wants to speak to you, hisself, before he catches a train."

  "I'll go into your office to get it, Abbott," said Enoch. "May I detain you, a moment, Mr. President? Mr. Fowler wants to speak to me."

  The President raised his eyebrows with a little smile. "Yes, if you tell me what's happened to Fowler."

  Enoch's smile was twisted as he went out. Milton immediately began to speak.

  "Mr. President, can't you make Mr. Huntingdon tell about his vacation?"

  The chief executive shook his head. "Perhaps it's not best. Perhaps he did have a lapse into his boyhood habits. Not that it makes any difference to me."

  "No! No! Mr. President. I know--" began Charley.

  But Milton interrupted, "Mr. President, he was with me and part of the time Miss Diana Allen, a wonderful woman, was with us. And Mr. Huntingdon is afraid they'll turn their dirty tongues on her."

  The President's face lighted as if he had received good news. "Really! With you!"

  "Yes, with me for a week and more. And I want to tell you, sir, that for nerve and endurance and skill in a boat and as a pal and friend under life and death conditions I've never seen any one to surpass him. He scorned cards while he was with us. We had no liquor. We admired him beyond words and had no idea who he was."

  "No!" cried the President, delightedly. "Why, there must be
a real story in this! Go on with it, Milton! Enoch," as the Secretary came in, "I'm winning the truth out of your old cruising pal, here!"

  "I can't help it, Mr. Huntingdon!" cried Milton as Enoch turned toward him indignantly. "Miss Diana said this noon that if you didn't tell the story, she would."

  "There you are!" exclaimed the President. "Wouldn't you know she'd take it that way? And on second thoughts I think I'd rather hear the story from her than any one else."

  "But she can't tell you about the voyage, sir," protested Milton.

  "That's true," agreed the President. "I shall have to arrange one of my choice little dinners and have you and Miss Diana Allen there to pad out the Secretary's account." Then, with a sudden change of voice, he walked over to Enoch and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. Abbott nodded to Milton and the two slipped out.

  "You are a bit twisted about women, dear old man! Come, you must let Milton put out the right kind of a denial of Brown's story."

  "Brown will put the denial out for himself," said Enoch sternly. "I've reached my limit. Mr. President, I have asked Mr. Fowler, Brown, and the reporter who's been maligning me to come to my office to-morrow afternoon. I think I shall be able to settle this matter. I would perhaps have done it before but I could not settle in my own mind just how I wanted to go about it. Fowler refused to come until I told him the purpose of the meeting."

  "And you know now how to end this miserable affair?" asked the President, wonderingly.

  "Yes," replied Enoch. "And now, Mr. President, what can I do for you?"

  "Exactly what you are doing, Enoch. Clear up this disgusting matter."

  "You came to see me for that, sir?"

  The President smiled. "You do not seem to realize that a great many people, people who never saw you, are deeply troubled about you. You do not belong to yourself but to us, Mr. Secretary."

  "Perhaps you are right, sir," said Enoch humbly. "I thank you most sincerely for coming."

  "Will you come to me as soon as you have finished, to-morrow, Enoch?"

  "Yes, Mr. President! Abbott, will you show the President out?" Then when Charley had returned, he said, "Abbott, the Secretary of State will be here. How about Brown?"

  "He will be here," replied Charley. "I used the President's name pretty freely, but I think I finally got him curious enough and worried enough."

  Enoch nodded. "Abbott, for the first time since I've been in this office, I'm going to quit early and go for a ride."

  "It's what you ought to do every day," said Abbott.

  "Look here, Abbott, if I get this beastly matter settled to-morrow, I want you to go away for two months' vacation."

  "Well," said Charley, doubtfully, "if you get it settled!"

  "Don't let that worry you," said Enoch grimly as he pulled on his overcoat and left the office. "I'll settle it."

  Promptly at three o'clock, the next day, Abbott ushered three men into the Secretary's office. Enoch rose and bowed to Secretary Fowler, to Hancock Brown, and to Ames, the reporter. The last was a clear cut young fellow with a nose a little too sharp and eyes set a trifle too close together.

  "If you will be seated, gentlemen, I'll tell you the object of this call upon your time. Mr. Abbott, please remain in the room.

  "On the third of November, Mr. Brown, you published in one of your evening papers an article about me written under your direction by Ames. The facts in that article were in the main true. The deductions you drew from them were vilely false. It is not, Mr. Brown, a pleasant knowledge for a man to carry through life that his mother was what my mother was. I have suffered from that knowledge as it is obviously quite beyond your power to comprehend. I say obviously, because no men with decency or the most ordinary imagination would have dared to harrow a man's secret soul as you harrowed mine. Even in my many battles with Tammany, my unfortunate birth has been respected. It remained for you to write the unwriteable.

  "As for my gambling, that too is true, to a certain extent. I have played cards perhaps half a dozen times in as many years. I was taught to play by the Luigi whom you interviewed. I have a gambler's instinct, but since I was fourteen I have fought as men can fight and latterly I have been winning the battle.

  "Your insinuations as to my adult relationship to the underworld and to women are lies. And your dragging Miss Allen into the dirty tale was a gratuitous insult which it is fortunate for both of you, her father has not yet seen. It happened that while I was on the vacation recently in which you have taken so impertinent an interest, that I joined the camp of two miners. One of them, Curly Field, told me an interesting story. He probably would not have told me had I not been calling myself Smith and had he not discovered that I am a lawyer."

  The smile suddenly disappeared from Brown's face.

  "That fellow Curly always was a liar," he said.

  Enoch shrugged his shoulders. "You should be a good judge of liars, Brown. Curly told me that Mr. Fowler was his brother-in-law's partner."

  Fowler spoke, his face drawn. "Spare me that story, Mr. Huntingdon, I beg of you."

  "Did you beg Brown to spare me?" demanded Enoch, sternly.

  "Pshaw!" exclaimed Brown, "that is old stuff. It couldn't be proved that we had anything to do with it."

  "No?" queried Enoch. "What would you say to my taking the fund left Judge Smith by Curly and employing a first-class lawyer and a detective to go on the trail of those mis-appropriated funds?" Brown did not answer and Enoch went on: "Curly's idea was to get even with Fowler. It was, in fact, a type of mania with him. He told me that for years he had been in possession of facts concerning certain doings of Brown and Fowler in Mexico, which if they were properly blazed across the country would utterly ruin both of them. He wanted to put me in possession of those facts."

  Suddenly Fowler rose and went to stand at a window, his back to the group around the Secretary's desk. Enoch continued, clearly and firmly:

  "I could scarcely believe my good fortune. Here was my chance to pay Brown in kind."

  "Did Curly give you the facts?" asked Brown, who had grown a little white around the mouth.

  Enoch did not heed him. "I asked Curly if the story was a reflection on these two men morally or financially. He said, morally; that it was bad beyond words. At this point I weakened and told him that I had no desire to display any man's weakness in the market place. And Curly laughed at me and asked me what mercy Fowler had shown his brother? But still I could not make up my mind to take those facts from Curly."

  Mr. Brown eased back in his chair with a sneering smile. Young Ames sat sickly pale, his mouth open.

  "But when I left him," the calm, rich voice went on, "I told him that he could write down the story and send it to my house in Washington. Now the chances are that having drifted so many years without telling it, he would have drifted on indefinitely. But fate intervened. Curly went to the Mexican border. Certain gentlemen have seen to it that the Mexican border is not safe. Curly was shot and he made it his death-bed duty to dictate this delectable tale to a friend. In due course of time, the document reached my house in Washington, and here it is!" He tapped the upper drawer of his desk.

  There was utter silence in the room while Enoch lighted a cigarette.

  "Have you told any one the er--tale?" demanded Brown, hoarsely. "I can prove that not a word of it is true!"

  "Can you?" Enoch squared round on him. "Are you willing to risk having the story told with the idea of disproving it, afterward? Isn't your system of scandal mongering built on the idea that mud once slung always leaves a stain in the public mind? And Curly was an eye witness. He is dead, but I do not believe all the other eye witnesses are dead. At any rate--"

  Brown suddenly leaned forward in his chair. "Mr. Huntingdon, I'll give you my check for $100,000, if you will give me that document and swear to keep your mouth shut."

  "Your bribe is not large enough," Enoch answered tersely.

  "Five hundred thousand! I'll agree to make a public retraction of everythi
ng I said about you and to work for you with all the power of my newspapers."

  "Not enough!" repeated Enoch, watching Brown's white face, keenly.

  "What do you want?" demanded the newspaper publisher.

  "First," Enoch threw his cigarette away, "I want Secretary Fowler to break with you, absolutely and completely."

  "Curly can't implicate me, in that Mexican affair!" cried Fowler. "Why, my whole attitude was one of disapproval and disgust. I told Brown over and over, that he was a fool and after the shooting I broke with him, absolutely, for years. I am--"

  Enoch interrupted. "Brown, was Fowler in on the trouble?"

  "No!" replied Brown, sullenly.

  "I'm very glad to hear it," Enoch exclaimed. "Mr. Fowler, as far as I am concerned all that I learned from Field regarding you is a closed book and forgotten if you will break with Brown."

  "I'd break with him, gladly, if he'd cease to blackmail me about the Field matter," said Fowler. "Good God! How many of us are there who've not committed sins that we never forgive ourselves?"

  "None of us!" said Enoch. "Mr. Fowler, why did you break with me?"

  "Didn't you do your best to undermine me with the President? Didn't you go to Ambassador Johns-Eaton and tell him--" Here, catching a curious flickering of young Ames' eyelids, Fowler interrupted himself to demand, "Or was that more of your dirty work, Ames?"

  "Answer, Ames!" Enoch's voice was not to be ignored.

  "Brown paid me for it," muttered Ames.

  Fowler groaned and looked at Enoch, who was lighting a fresh cigarette.

  "Will you agree, Brown, to an absolute break with Fowler and no come backs?" asked Enoch.

  "Yes," said Brown eagerly. "What else?"

  "You are to go out of the newspaper business."

  There was another silence. Then Brown said, "I'll not do it!"

  "Very well," returned Enoch, "then the Mexican affair will be published as Curly has written it with all the attendant circumstances."

  Again there was silence, with all the eyes in the room focused on the pale, gentle face, opposite Enoch. The noise of street traffic beat against the windows. Telephones sounded remotely in the outer office. For ten minutes this was all. Then Brown in a husky voice said,