CHAPTER 8
Is not this the trouble with our whole man-made world, that the game is played with loaded dice? Against the poor, the weak and the unfortunate have the cards been stacked. A tremendous percentage is in favor of the crook, the scoundrel, the smug robber of industry by whom the hands are dealt.
Wealth, created by the many, is more and more flowing into the vaults of the few. Legislatures, Congress, the courts, all the machinery of government, answer to the crack of the whip wielded by Big Business. The creed of the allied plunderers is that he should take who has the power and he should keep who can.
Until we mutiny against the timidity of our times Democracy and Prosperity will be dreams. The poor and the parasite we shall have always with us.
In that new world which is to be MEN and not THINGS will be supreme, property a means and not an end. The heart of the world will be born anew under an economic reconstruction that will give freedom for individual development. For our social and industrial life will be founded not on a denial of God but on an affirmation of Brotherhood.--From the Note Book of a Dreamer.
THE HERO MEETS AND ADMIRES A MONA LISA SMILE. HE IS TENDERED AN APOLOGYFOR A PAST DISCOURTESY
Part 1
Came James Farnum down Powers Avenue carrying with buoyant dignity themanner of greatness that sat so well on him. His smile was warm for aworld that just now was treating him handsomely. There could be no doubtthat for a first term he was making an extraordinary success of his workin the legislature. He had worked hard on committees and his speecheshad made a tremendous hit. Jeff had played him up strong in the worldtoo, so that he was becoming well known over the state. That he hadrisen to leadership of the progressives in the House during his firstterm showed his quality. His ambition vaulted. Now that his feet wereon the first rungs of the ladder it would be his own fault if he did notreach the top.
His progress down the busy street was in the nature of an ovation.Everywhere he met answering smiles that told of the people's pride intheir young champion. Already James had discovered that Americansare eager for hero worship. He meant to be the hero of his state, thefavorite son it would delight to honor. This was what he loved: thecheers for the victor, not the clash of the battle.
"Good morning, Farnum. What are the prospects?" It was Clinton Rogers,of the big shipbuilding firm Harvey & Rogers, that stopped him now.
"Still anybody's fight, Mr. Rogers." The young lawyer's voice fell anote to take on a frankly confidential tone, an accent of friendlinessthat missed the fatal buttonholing familiarity of the professionalpolitician. "If we can hold our fellows together we'll win. But theTranscontinental is bidding high for votes--and there's always a quittersomewhere."
"Does Frome stand any chance?"
"It will be Hardy or Frome. The least break in our ranks will be thesignal for a stampede to P. C. The Republicans will support him whenthey get the signal. It's all a question of our fellows standing pat."
"From what I can learn it won't be your fault if Hardy isn't elected. Icongratulate you on the best record ever made by a member in his firstterm."
"Oh, we all do our best," James answered lightly. "But I'm grateful foryour good opinion. I hope I deserve it."
James could afford to be modest about his achievements so long as Jeffwas shouting his praises through the columns of the _World_ to a hundredthousand readers of that paper. What the shipbuilder had said pleasedhim mightily. For Clinton Rogers was one of the few substantial moneyedmen of Verden who had joined the reform movement. Not a single member ofthe Verden Club, with the exception of Rogers, was lined up with thosemaking the fight for direct legislation. Even those who had no financialinterest in the Transcontinental or the public utility corporationssupported that side from principle.
James himself had thought a long time before casting in his lot with theinsurgents led by his cousin. He had made tentative approaches bothto Frome and to Edward B. Merrill. Both of these gentlemen had beenfriendly enough, but James had made up his mind they undervalued hisworth. The way to convince them of this was to take the field againstthem.
He smiled now as he swung along the avenue. Both Frome and Merrill--yes,and Big Tim too, for that matter!--knew by this time whether they hadmade a mistake in sizing him up as a raw college boy with his eye teethnot cut.
A passing electric containing two young women brought his gloved hand tohis hat. The long slant eyes of the lady on the farther side swepthim indolently. In answer to her murmured suggestion the girl who wasdriving brought the machine round in a half circle which ended at theedge of the curb in front of Farnum.
The lawyer's hat came off again with easy grace. The slim young driverleaned back against the cushions and merely smiled a greeting, tacitlyyielding command of the situation to her cousin, an opulent young widowadorned demurely with that artistic touch of mourning that suggests agrief not inconsolable.
"Good morning, Miss Frome--Mrs. Van Tyle," James distributed impartiallybefore turning to the latter lady. "Isn't this a day to be alive in? Whosays it always rains in Verden?"
"I do--or nearly always. At least it finds no difficulty in giving agood imitation," returned the young woman addressed.
"A libel--I vow a libel," Farnum retorted gaily. "I was just going tohope you might be tempted to forget New York and Vienna and Paris topay us a long visit. We're all hoping it. I'm merely the spokesman." Hewaved a hand to indicate the busy street black with humanity.
A hint of pleasant adventure quickened the eyes of the young widow whosurveyed lazily his well-groomed good looks. She judged him a twentiethcentury American emerging from straightened circumstances and eager totrample even the memory of it under foot.
"Did the Chamber of Commerce appoint you a committee to hope that Iwould impose on my relatives longer? Or was it resoluted at a massmeeting?" she asked with her Mona Lisa smile.
He laughed. "Well, no! I'm a self-appointed committee voicing a personaldesire that has universal application. But if it would have more weightwith you I'll have the Chamber take it up and get myself an accreditedrepresentative."
"So kind of you. But do you think the committee could do itself justiceon the street curb?"
She had among other sensuous charms a voice attuned to convey slightestshades of meaning. James caught her half-shuttered smoldering glance anddivined her a woman subtle and complex, capable of playing the world-oldgame of the sexes with unusual dexterity. The hint of challengingmystery in the tawny depths of the mocking eyes fired his imagination.She was to him a new find in women, one altogether different fromthose he had known. He had a curiosity to meet at close range thiscosmopolitan heiress of such cultivation as Joe Powers' millions couldpurchase.
What Verden said of her he knew: that she was too free, too scornful,too independent of conventions. All the tabby cats whispered it toeach other with lifted eyebrows that suggested volumes, the while theycourted her eager and unashamed. But he had a feeling that perhapsVerden was not competent to judge. The standards of this town and ofNew York were probably vastly different. James welcomed the chance toenlarge his social experience. Promptly he accepted the lead offered.
"I'm sure it can't. To present the evidence cogently will take at leasttwo hours. May I make the argument this evening, if it please the court,during a call?"
"But I understood you were too busy saving the state--from my father andmy uncle by the way--to have time for a mere woman," she parried.
The good humor of her irony flattered him because it implied that sheoffered him a chance to cultivate her--he was not at all sure how muchor how little that might mean--regardless of his political affiliations.Not many women were logical enough to accept so impersonally hisopposition to the candidacy of an uncle and the plans of a father. "I AMbusy," he admitted, "but I need a few hours' relaxation. It will help meto work more effectively to-morrow--against your father and your uncle,"he came back with a smile that inc
luded them both.
Alice Frome took up the challenge gaily. "We're going to beat you.Father will be elected."
"Then I'll be the first to congratulate him," he promised. Turning toMrs. Van Tyle, "Shall we say this evening?" he added.
"You're not afraid to venture yourself into the hands of the enemy,"drawled that young woman, her indolent eyes daring him.
Again he studiously included them both in his answer. "I'm afraid allright, but I'm not going to let you know it. Did I hear you set a time?"
"If you are really willing to take the risk we shall be glad to see youthis afternoon."
James observed that Alice Frome did not second her cousin's invitation.He temporized.
"Oh, this afternoon! I have an engagement, but I am tempted to forget itin remembering a subsequent one."
His smiling gaze passed to Alice and gave her another chance. Still shedid not speak.
"The way to treat a temptation is to yield to it," the older cousinsparkled.
"In order to be done with it, I suppose. Very well. I yield to mine.This afternoon I will have the pleasure of calling at The Brakes."
Alice nodded a curt good-bye, but her cousin offered him a beautifullygloved hand to shake. A delightful tingle of triumph warmed him. Thedaughter of Big Joe Powers, the grim gray pirate who worked the leversof the great Transcontinental Railroad system, had taken pains to benice to him. The only fly in the ointment of his self-satisfaction hadbeen Alice Frome's reticence.
Why had she not shown any desire to have him call? He could guess at onereason. The campaign for the legislature and the subsequent battle forthe senatorship had been bitter. Charges of corruption had been flungbroadcast. A dozen detectives had been hired to get evidence on one sideor the other. If he were seen going to The Brakes just now fifty rumorsmight be flying inside of the hour.
His guess was a good one. Alice drove the car forward several blockswithout speaking, Valencia Van Tyle watching with good-humored contemptthe little frown that rested on her cousin's candid face.
"I perceive that my uncompromising cousin is moved to protest," shesuggested placidly.
"You ought not to have asked him, Val. It isn't fair to him or tofather," answered Alice promptly. "People will talk. They will sayfather is trying to influence him unfairly. I wish you hadn't asked himtill this fight is over."
"My dear Nora, does it matter in the least what people say?" yawnedValencia behind her hand.
"Not to you because you consider yourself above criticism. But itmatters to me that two honest men should be brought into unjust obloquywithout cause."
"My dear Hothead, they are big enough to look out for themselves."
"Nobody is big enough to kill slander."
"Nonsense, child. You make a mountain out of a mole hill. People WILLgossip. It really isn't of the least importance what they gabble about."
"Especially when you want to amuse yourself by making a fool of Mr.Farnum," retorted the downright Alice with a touch of asperity.
Valencia already half regretted having asked him. The chances werethat he would prove a bore. But she did not choose to say so. "If I'mtreading on your preserves, dear," she ventured sweetly.
"That's ridiculous," flushed Alice. "I only suggested that you wait tillafter the election before chaining him to your chariot wheels."
"You're certainly an _enfant terrible_, my dear," murmured the widow,with the little rippling laugh of cynicism her cousin found so annoying."But that young man does need a lesson. He's eaten up with conceit ofhimself. Somebody ought to take him in hand."
"So you're going to sacrifice yourself to duty," scoffed Alice as shebrought the electric to a stop under the porte-cochere of the Fromeresidence.
Mrs. Van Tyle folded her hands demurely. "It's sweet of you to see itthat way, Alice."
Part 2
James turned in at the Century Building. In the elevator he met hiscousin. Both of them were bound for the office of the candidate beingsupported by the progressives for the Senate.
"Anything new?" Jeff asked.
"A rumor that Killen has fallen by the wayside. Big Tim was with him foran hour last night at the Pacific."
"I've not been sure of Killen for quite a while. He's a weak sister."
"He'd better not go wrong if he expects to keep on living in thisstate," James imparted, a hard light in his eyes.
At the third floor they left the elevator and turned to the right underan arch bearing the sign Hardy, Elliott & Carson. Without knocking theypassed into Hardy's private office.
Of the three men they found there it was plain that one was being pusheddoggedly to bay. He was small and insignificant, with weak blinkingeyes. Standing with his back to the wall, he moistened his lips with thetip of his tongue.
"Who says it?" he whined shrilly. "Who says I sold out?"
An apoplectic, bull-necked ruffian stood directly in front of him andsawed the air violently with a fat forefinger.
"I ain't sayin' it, Killen--I'm askin' if you have. What I say is thatyou'd better make your will before you vote for Frome. Make 'em pay fat,for by thunder! you'll be political junk, Mr. Sam Killen."
Killen, sweating agony, turned appealingly to Jeff. "I haven't said Iwas going to vote for Frome. Mr. Rawson's got no right to bulldoze meand I'm not going to stand it."
"The hell you ain't," roared Rawson, shaking his fist at the unhappylegislator. "I guess you'll stand the gaff till you explain."
"Just a moment, Bob," interrupted Jeff. "Let's get at the facts. Don'tconvict the prisoner till the evidence is in."
Rawson hobbled his wrath for the moment. "That's all right, Jeff. Youask Hardy. I'm giving you straight goods."
The keen-eyed, smooth-shaven man in a gray business suit who had beenlistening silently to the gathering storm contributed informationbriefly and impartially.
"Mr. Killen spent an hour last night with Big Tim at the Pacific Hotel."
"Sneaked in by the side entrance and took the elevator to the seventhfloor. The deal was arranged in Room 743," added Rawson.
"You spied on me," burst from Killen's lips.
"Sure thing. And we caught you with the goods," sneered the red-facedpolitician.
"I'll not stand it. I'll not support a man that won't trust me."
"You won't, eh?" Rawson was across the floor in two jumps, worrying hisvictim as a terrier does a rat. "Forget it. You were elected to supportR. K. Hardy, sewed up with a pledge tight and fast. We're not in theprimer class, Killen. Don't get a notion you're going to do as you damnplease. You'll--vote--for--R.--K.--Hardy. Get that?"
"I refuse to be moved by threats, and I decline to discuss the matterfurther," retorted Killen with a pitiable attempt at dignity.
Rawson laughed with insulting menace. "That's a good one. I've sold out,but it's none of your business what I got. That what you mean?"
"You surely must recognize our right to an explanation, Killen," Jeffsaid gently.
"No, sir, I don't," flushed the little man with sullen bravado. "I ain'tgot a thing against you, but Rawson goes too far."
"I think he does," Jeff agreed. "Killen is all right. Gentlemen, supposeyou let him and me talk it over alone. We can reach an agreement that issatisfactory."
Hardy's face cleared. This was not the first waverer Jeff had broughtback into line, not the first by several. There was something compellingin his friendly smile and affectionate manner.
"I'm sure Mr. Killen intends only what is right. I'm content to leavethe matter entirely with you and him," Hardy said.
Jeff turned to Rawson. "And you, old warhorse?"
"Have it your own way, but don't forget there's a nigger in thewoodpile."
Jeff and Killen walked to the office of the latter, which was on thenext floor of the Century Building, the legislator stiffening his willto resist the assaults he felt would be made upon it. But as soon as thedoor was shut Jeff surprised him by laying a hand on his shoulder.
"Tell me all about it, Sam."
Killen gasped. He got an impossible vision of young Farnum as hisbrother in trouble. "About what? I didn't say--"
"I've known for a week something was wrong. I couldn't very well askyou, but since I've blundered in you'd better let me help you if I can."
Killen was touched. His lip trembled. "It don't do any good to talkabout things. I guess a fellow has to carry his own griefs. Nobody elseis hunting for a chance to invest in them."
"What's a friend for?" Jeff wanted to know gently.
The little man gulped. "I guess I've got no friends. Anyhow they don'tcount when a fellow's in hard luck. It's every man for himself."
The younger man's smile was warm as summer sunshine. "Wrong guess, Sam.We're in this little old world to help each other when we can."
The wretched man drew the back of a trembling hand across his moisteyes. He inhaled a long sobbing breath and broke into apology for hisweakness. "Haven't slept for a week except from trional. The back of myhead pricks day and night. Can't think of anything but my troubles."
"Unload them on me," Jeff said lightly.
"It's that mortgage on my mill," Killen blurted out. "It falls due thismonth and I can't meet it. Things haven't been going well with me."
"Can't you get it renewed?"
"Through a dummy Big Tim has bought it up. He won't renew, unless--"Killen broke off, to continue in a moment: "And that ain't all. Mylittle girl needs an operation awful badly. The doctor says she hadought to go to Chicago. I just can't raise the price."
"How much is the mortgage?"
"Three thousand," replied the man; and he added with a gust of weakdespair, "My God, man! That mill's all I've got to keep bread in themouths of my motherless children."
"I reckon Big Tim has offered to cancel the mortgage notes and give youabout a thousand to go on," Jeff suggested casually.
Killen nodded. "It would put me on my feet again and give the kiddie herchance." The answer had slipped out naturally, but now the fear chilledhim that he had been lured into making a confession. "I didn't say I wasgoing to take it," he added hastily.
"You're quite safe with me, Killen," Jeff told him. He was wonderingwhether he could not get Captain Chunn to take over the mortgage.
"I'm not so much struck on Hardy myself," grumbled the legislator. "He'sa rich man, just as Frome is. Six of one and half a dozen of the other,looks like to me."
"No, Killen. Frome represents the Transcontinental and the utilitycorporations. Hardy stands for the people. And you're pledged to supportHardy. You mustn't forget that."
"I ain't likely to forget that mortgage either," Killen came backdrearily.
"I think I can arrange about having the mortgage renewed. Will that do?"
"Yes. We're going to have a good year in the lumber business. Probablyin twelve months I could clear it off."
"Good! And about the little girl--she'll have her chance. I promise youthat."
The mill man wrung his hand, tears in his eyes. "You're a white man,Jeff, and a dashed good friend. I tell you I'd hate like poison to goback on Hardy. A fellow can't afford to do a thing like that. But whatelse could I do? A fellow's got to stand by the children he brings intothe world, ain't he?"
Farnum evaded with a smile this discussion of moral issues. "Well, youcan stand by them and us, too, if I can fix up this mortgage propositionfor you."
"When will you let me know?" asked Killen anxiously.
"Will to-morrow morning do? In James' office, say."
"I'll have to know before noon," Killen reminded him, flushing withembarrassment.
"If I can arrange to get the money--and I think I can--I'll let you knowat eleven. Don't worry, Sam. It will be all right."
The legislator shook hands again. "I ain't going to forget what you'redoing for me. No, sir!"
Jeff laughed his thanks easily. "That's all right. I reckon you wouldhave done as much for me. Sam Killen isn't the man to throw his friendsdown."
"That's right," returned the other with a sudden valiant infusionof courage. "I stand pat. I'm not going to lie down before theTranscontinental. Not on your life, I ain't."
They were walking toward the outer door as Killen's speech overflowed."The Transcontinental doesn't own this state yet. No, sir! Nor Frome andMerrill either. We'll show 'em--"
The valor of the big voice collapsed like a rent balloon. For the officedoor had opened to let in Big Tim O'Brien. His shrewd eyes passed withwhimsical disgust over Killen and rested on Farnum.
The situation made for amusement, since Jeff knew that Big Tim had heardover the transom enough to show that Killen's vote had been recapturedfor Hardy.
"You've stumbled on a red hot Hardy ratification meeting. Did you cometo get into the bandwagon while there is time, Tim?" Jeff asked withtwinkling eyes.
"No sinking ship for mine. I guess I wouldn't ratify yet a while if Iwere youse, Farnum."
He stood aside to let the editor of the _World_ pass. Jeff laughed. "Goto it, Tim."
"I haven't got anything to say to you, Mr. O'Brien," the mill manannounced with heightened color.
"Maybe I've got something to say to youse, Mr. Killen."
Jeff passed out smiling. "Well, I'll not interrupt you. See youto-morrow, Sam."
Big Tim sat down heavily in a chair and pulled from his vest pocket afat black cigar.
"Smoke, Killen?"
"No, thanks." The legislator spoke with stiff dignity.
Big Tim looked at the other man and his paunch shook with the merrimentthat appeared to convulse him.
"What's the matter?" snapped the mill man.
"I'm laughin' at the things I see, Killen. Man, but you're an easymar-rk."
"How?"
"Can't you see they're stringin' youse for a sucker?"
"No, I can't see it. I've made up my mind. I'm going to stand by Hardy."
"Fine! Now I'll tell youse one thing. We're goin' to elect Frometo-morrow." O'Brien rose as one who has no time for unprofitable talk."Your friends have sold youse out. I'm going to call on one of thimright now."
"I don't believe it."
"Of course you don't." Tim's projecting balcony shook with the humorof it. "But you'll be convinced when they take your mill from youse, meboy. It's a frame-up--and you're the goat."
With which shot he took his departure, too shrewd to attempt anyargument. He had left behind him a doubt. That was all he could do justnow.
Before Tim was out of the building Killen was gumshoeing after him. Hemeant to find out whether O'Brien had been lying when he said he wasgoing to call on one of his friends. Fifty yards behind him Killenfollowed, along Powers Avenue, down Pacific Street, to the EquitableBuilding. From the pilot of one of the elevators he learned that thebig boss had got off at the seventh floor and gone straight into JamesFarnum's office.
His mind was instantly alive with suspicions tumbling over each otherin chaotic incoherency. There was a deal of some kind on foot. Jeff'scousin was in it. Then Jeff must be playing him for a sucker. His teethset with a snap.
Meanwhile Big Tim was having a heart to heart talk with James K. Farnum.
The young lawyer had risen in surprise at the entrance of O'Brien. Thebig fellow, laughing easily, had helped himself to a chair.
"Make yourself at home, Tim," he said jauntily.
"Anything I can do for you, Mr. O'Brien?" James asked with stiffdignity.
"Sure. Or I wouldn't be here. Sit down. I'll not bite ye."
The lawyer continued to stand.
"I've come to tell you that I'm a dammed fool, Mr. Farnum," the bossgrinned.
James bowed slightly. He did not know what was coming, but he had nointention of committing himself to anything as yet.
"In ever lettin' youse get away from me. I mistook yez for a kid glove."
Big Tim gazed with palpable admiration at the cleancut figure, at thesquare cleft chin in the strong handsome face. It was his opinion thisyoung man would go far, and that every step of the way would be in theinterests of James K. Far
num. Shrewdly he guessed that the way topierce that impassive front was through an appeal to vanity and toselfinterest.
James waited, alert and expressionless, but O'Brien, having made hisapology, puffed in silence.
"I think you suggested some business that brought you," James remindedhim.
"You've got in you the makings of a big man. Nothing on the coast totouch youse, Mr. Farnum. And I didn't see it. I was sore on your name.That was what was bitin' me. It's sure on Big Tim this time."
None of the triumph that flooded Farnum reached the surface.
"I think I don't quite understand," he said quietly.
"I'm eatin' humble pie because youse slipped wan over on me. You're thebest campaign speaker in the state, bar none, boy as you are."
James could not keep his gratified smile down. "This heart-felttestimonial comes free, I take it," he pretended to mock.
"Come off with youse," O'Brien flung back good humoredly. "I'm not hereto hand you booquets, but to talk business. Here's the nub of it, meboy. You need me, and I need you."
"I don't quite see how I need you, Mr. O'Brien."
"That's because you're young yet and don't know the game. Let me tellyou this." The boss leaned forward, his hard eyes focused on Farnum."You'll never get anywhere so long as youse trail with that reformbunch. It's all hot air and tomfool theory. Populism and socialism! Takemy wor-rd for it, there's nothin' to 'em."
"I'm neither a populist nor a socialist, Mr. O'Brien."
"Coorse you're not. I can see that with wan eye shut. That's why I hateto see youse ruin yourself with them that are. I've no need to tellyou that this country's run by business men and not cranks. Me, I'm abusiness man, and I run the city. P. C. Frome's a business man; so'sMerrill. That's why they're on top. Old Joe Powers is a business manfrom first to last. You'll never get anywhere, me boy, until youse lookat things from a business point of view."
If James was impressed he gave no sign of it. "Which means you want meto support P. C. for the Senate. Is that it?"
"I don't care whether you do or don't. We've got this fight won. Butthis is only the beginning. I can see that. Agitators and troublebreeders are busy iverywhere. Line up right and you've got a big futurebefore you. Joe Powers himself has noticed your speeches. P. C. told methat last night."
For a moment the lawyer felt an exultant paeon of victory beat in hisblood. His imagination saw the primrose path of the future stretchbefore him in a golden glow. The surge of triumph passed and he washimself again, cool and wary. His eyes met Big Tim's full and straight."I was elected to support Hardy. I expect to stay with him."
The political boss waved aside this declaration. "Sure. Of course you'vegot to VOTE for him. I've got too much horse sense to try to buy YOU.But after this election? Your whole future's not tied up with foolreformers, is it? Say, what's the matter with you havin' a talk with P.C.?"
"Oh, I'll talk with him. P. C. and I are good friends."
"When can you see him? Why not to-night?"
"No hurry, is there?" James paused an instant before he added: "I'mgoing to The Brakes this afternoon on a social call. If Frome happensto be at home we might talk then. So far as making a direct appointmentwith him, I wouldn't care to do that until the senatorial election isdecided. You understand that I pledge myself to nothing."
"That's right," agreed Big Tim. "It don't do any harm to hear both sidesof a proposition. I guess that cousin o' yours kind of hypnotized you.He's got more fool schemes for redeemin' this state. Far as I can see itdon't need any redeemin'. It's loaded to the rails with prosperity andclippin' off its sixty miles an hour. I say, let well enough alone.Where youse keep your matches, Mr. Farnum? Thanks! Well, talk it overwith P. C. I reckon you can get together. So long, me boy."
Not until he was safe in the street did the big boss of Verden allow hissatisfaction expression.
"We've got him! We've got the boob hooked!" he told himself exultantly.
A little man standing behind a showcase was watching him tensely.
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