WHEN SENATORS DISAGREE
The wiseacres of Washington had rightly predicted, that the site of
the hundred-million-dollar gulf naval base would be decided on in
March, after the excitement and gayety attending the presidential
inauguration had subsided.
On the morning of the day before this action of the committee on naval
affairs was to be taken Secretary Haines sat at his desk in Senator
Langdon's committee room in the Capitol. Richard Cullen, the favorite
associate of Haines in his journalistic days, out earlier than usual
on his daily round of the departments for news for his Chicago paper,
had strolled in and attempted a few of his characteristic cynicisms.
Haines usually found them entertaining, but these were directed at
Senator Langdon.
"Now, let me tell you something, Dick," the secretary answered,
firmly. "Don't you work off all your dyspeptic ideas in this
neighborhood. My Senator is a great man. They can't appreciate him up
here because he's honest--crystal clear. I used to think I knew what a
decent citizen, a real man, ought to be, but he's taught me some new
things. He'll teach them all something before he gets through."
Cullen hung one leg over Haines' desk.
"You're a nice, quiet, gentlemanly little optimist, and I like you,
old fellow," retorted Cullen. "But don't deceive yourself too much.
Your Senator Langdon is personally one of the best ever. But he was
born a mark, and a mark he'll be to the end of time.
"He looks good now. Sure, I like his speeches, and all that, but just
wait. When some of those old foxes in the Senate want to put his head
in the bag and tie it down, they won't have any trouble at all."
Smiling, Haines looked up at his cynical friend.
"The bag'll have to go over my head, too," he said, with a nod.
"Well, I don't know that Peabody'd have to strain himself very much to
get such an awful big bag to drop you both in, if it comes right down
to that, old chap. You're making a mistake. You're as bad as your old
man. You're a beautiful pair of optimists, and you a good newspaper
man, too--it's a shame!"
After momentary hesitation, Cullen continued, thoroughly serious.
"But, my old friend," he said in low tone, glancing quickly about,
"there's one thing that you've got to put a stop to. It's hurting
you."
The secretary's face showed his bewilderment.
"What do you mean?" he snapped, abruptly. "Out with it!"
"I mean," replied Cullen, "that rumors are going around that you are
keeping Langdon away from the crowd of 'insiders' in the Senate for
your own purposes--that, in short, you plan to--"
"I understand," was the quick interruption. "I am accused of wanting
to 'deliver' Senator Langdon, guarantee his vote, on some graft
proposition, so that I can get the money and not he himself.
Consequently I'm tipping him off on what measures are honest, so that
he'll vote for them, until--until I'm offered my price, then influence
him to vote for some big crooked scheme, telling him it is all right.
He votes as I suggest, and I get the money!"
"That's what 'delivering a man' means in Washington," dryly answered
the Chicago correspondent. "It means winning a man's confidence, his
support, his vote, through friendship, and then selling it for cash--"
"But you, Dick, you have--"
"Of course, old man, I have denied the truth of this. I knew you too
well to doubt you. Still, the yarn is hurting you. Remember that
Western Senator who was 'delivered' twice, both ways, on a graft
bill?" he laughingly asked the secretary.
"Should say I did, Dick. That is the record for that game. It was a
corporation measure. One railroad wanted it; another opposed it. The
Senator innocently told an Eastern Senator that he was going to vote
for the bill. Then the Easterner went to the railroad wanting the
bill passed and got $7,000 on his absolute promise that he would get
Senator X. to vote for it, who, of course, did vote for it."
"Yes," said Cullen, "and later, when Senator X. heard that Senator Z.
had got money for his vote, he was wild. Then when another effort
was made to pass the bill (which had been defeated) the 'delivered'
Senator said to Z. as he met him unexpectedly: 'You scoundrel, here's
where I get square with you to some extent. Anyway, I'm going to vote
against that bill this time and make a long speech against it, too.'
Senator Z. then hustled to the lobbyist of the railroad that wanted
the bill killed and guaranteed him that for $10,000 he could get
Senator X. to change his vote, to vote against the bill."
"And he got the money, too, both ways," added Haines, as Cullen
concluded, "and both railroads to this day think that X. received the
money from Z."
"Of course," said Cullen, "but X. was to blame, though. He didn't know
enough to keep to himself how he was going to vote. Any man that talks
that way will be 'delivered.'"
"I know how to stop those rumors, for I'm sure it's Peabody's work, he
thinking Langdon will hear the talk and mistrust me," began Haines,
when in came Senator Langdon himself, his face beaming contentedly.
Little did the junior Senator from Mississippi realize that he was
soon to face the severest trial, the most vital crisis, of his entire
life.
Cullen responded to the Senator's cheery greeting of "Mornin',
everybody!"
"Senator," he asked, "my paper wants your opinion on the question of
the election of Senators by popular vote. Do you think the system of
electing Senators by vote of State Legislatures should be abolished?"
The Mississippian cocked his head to one side.
"I reckon that's a question that concerns future Senators, and not
those already elected," he chuckled.
Haines laughed at Cullen, who thrust his pad into his pocket and
hurried away.
"It is to-day that I appear before the ways and means committee, isn't
it?" Langdon queried of his secretary.
"Yes," said Haines, consulting his memorandum book. "At 11 o'clock you
go before ways and means to put forward the needs of your State on
the matter of the reduction of the tariff on aluminium hydrates. The
people of Mississippi believe it has actually put back life into the
exhausted cotton lands. In Virginia they hope to use it on the tobacco
fields."
"Where does the pesky stuff come from?" asked the Senator.
"From South America," coached the secretary. "The South is in a hurry
for it, so the duty must come down. You'll have to bluff a
bit, because Peabody and his crowd will try to make a kind of
bargain--wanting you to keep up iron and steel duties. But you don't
believe that iron and steel need help, you will tell them, don't you
see, so that they will feel the necessity of giving you what you want
for the South in order to gain your support for the iron and steel
demands."
The office door opened and Senator Peabody appeared.
"Peabody," whispered the secretary.
Instantly the Mississippian had his cue. His back to Peabody, he
rose, brought down his fist heavily upon the desk, and expounded
oratorically to Haines:
"What we can produce of aluminium hydrates, my boy, is problematical,
but the South is in a hurry for it, and the duty must come down. It's
got to come down, and I'm not going to do anything else until it
does."
The secretary stretched across the desk.
"Excuse me, Senator; Senator Peabody is here," he said, loudly and
surprisedly, as though he had just sighted the boss of the Senate.
The Mississippian turned.
"Oh, good-morning, Senator. I was just talking with my secretary about
that hydrate clause."
Peabody bowed slightly.
"Yes, I knew it was coming up," he said, "so I just dropped over.
I'm not opposed to it or any Southern measure; but it makes it more
difficult for me when you Southern people oppose certain Pittsburg
interests that I have to take care of."
Langdon smiled.
"I've never been in Pittsburg, but they tell me it looks as if it
could take care of itself."
The visitor shrugged his shoulders.
"That's true enough; but give and take is the rule in political
matters, Langdon."
This remark brought a frown to Langdon's face.
"I don't like bargaining between gentlemen, Peabody. More important
still, I don't believe American politics has to be run on that plan.
Why can't we change a lot of things now that we are here?"
Langdon became so enthused that he paced up and down the room as he
spoke.
"Peabody, you and Stevens and I," continued Langdon, "could get our
friends together and right now start to make this great capital of our
great country the place of the 'square deal,' the place where give and
take, bargain and sale, are unknown. We could start a movement that
would drive out all secret influences--"
The secretary noticed Peabody's involuntary start.
"The newspapers would help us," went on Langdon. "Public opinion would
be with us, and both houses of Congress would have to join in the work
if we went out in front, led the way and showed them their plain duty.
And I tell you, Senator Peabody, that the principles that gave birth
to this country, the principles of truth, honesty, justice and
independence, would rule in Washington--"
"If Washington cared anything about them, Langdon," interjected the
Pennsylvanian.
"That's my point," cried the Mississippian--"let us teach Washington
to care about them!"
"Langdon, Langdon," said Peabody, patronizingly, "you've seized on a
bigger task than you know. After you reform Washington you will have
to go on and reform human nature, human instincts, every human being
in the country, if you want to make politics this angelic thing you
describe. It isn't politics, it's humanity, that's wrong," waving
aside a protest from Langdon.
"Anyway, your idea is not constitutional, Langdon," continued Peabody.
"You want everybody to have a share in the national government. That
wouldn't meet the theory of centralization woven into our political
system by its founders. They intended that our Government should be
controlled by a limited number of representatives, so that authority
can be fixed and responsibility ascertained."
"You distort my meaning!" cried Langdon. "And, Senator, I would like
to ask why so many high-priced constitutional lawyers who enter
Congress spend so much time in placing the Constitution of the United
States between themselves and their duty, sir, between the people and
their Government, sir, between the nation and its destiny? I want to
know if in your opinion the Constitution was designed to throttle
expression of the public will?"
"Of course not. That's the reason you and I, Langdon, and the others
are elected to the Senate," added Peabody, starting to leave. Then he
halted. "By the way, Senator," he said, "I'll do my best to arrange
what you want regarding aluminium hydrates for the sake of the South,
and I'll also stand with you for Altacoola for the naval base. Our
committee is to make its report to-morrow."
Langdon observed the penetrating gaze that Peabody had fixed on him.
It seemed to betray that the Pennsylvanian's apparently careless
manner was assumed.
"H'm!" coughed Langdon, glancing at Haines. "I'm not absolutely
committed to Altacoola until I'm sure it's the best place. I'll make
up my mind to-day definitely, and I _think_ it will be for Altacoola."
The boss of the Senate went out, glaring venomously at Haines,
slamming the door.
A moment later a page boy brought in a card. "Colonel J.D. Telfer,
Gulf City," read the Senator.
"Bud," he remarked to the secretary, "I'm going to send my old
acquaintance, Telfer, Mayor of Gulf City, in here for you to talk to.
He'll want to know about his town's chances for being chosen as the
naval base. I must hurry away, as I have an appointment with my
daughters and Mrs. Spangler before going before ways and means."
[Illustration: THE SENATOR ACCEPTS AN INVITATION TO TEA.]