A QUARTETTE OF SCHEMERS.
Saratoga was alive with a brilliant throng of pleasure-seekers, gay with
beauty and dress. Handsome equipages dashed along its shaded avenues
with horses gaily caparisoned, the carriage occupants being decked with
holiday splendor. The grand hotels overflowed with beauty and fashion;
the parks, where artistic bands filled the air with music, were perfect
bowers of loveliness. The hotel piazzas were crowded with visitors;
the handiwork of Worth was everywhere present, and nature's mines
contributed sparkling gems to adorn fair wearers.
All was not beauty however, for the presence of shoddy was perceptible,
and listeners were amused or disgusted when lovely exteriors shattered
hopes as stately matrons uttered words coarse and illiterate. "All
is not gold that glitters" is fully realized while spending a day at
America's famous watering-place and beholding the shams and deceptions
of the fashionable world.
Saratoga is not merely a watering-place; it is also a mart where goods
are painted and varnished to sell--in fact where many mothers introduce
their daughters, expecting to dispose of them to the highest bidder.
Politicians gather there to make and unmake men; "slates" are made or
broken according to the amount of cash or patronage controlled by the
manipulators.
As the afternoon train arrived from the north, on the piazza of
the "Grand Union" sat three men anxiously awaiting the arrival of
another. A few moments later a carriage was driven up, and the three
gentlemen--none other than Cyrus Hart Miller, Editor Rawlings, and
George Horton, chairman of a county committee--arose to greet the
Hon. Darius Hamblin. The greeting scarcely ceased when several other
gentlemen leaving their seats quickly moved forward to welcome the
new arrival. Passing into the hotel, Senator Hamblin met other
acquaintances, and it was readily seen that he was a lion among the men
gathered at the great spa to discuss politics and "lay pipe" for the
grasping of power and distribution of patronage.
After dinner four men met in Senator Hamblin's parlor. The reader by
this time being acquainted with the leading spirit of the party, we will
describe the others.
Cyrus Hart Miller, familiarly known as a local politician of the true
American type, held a position in the Customs Department of the nation,
having been appointed through the influence of his senator. One of
those bold and adventurous spirits, who know so well how to control a
caucus, he possessed a commanding presence, and when "button-holing" a
man would produce convincing arguments that the cause espoused by him
was apparently right. He always rallied the "boys" at a caucus, and when
unable to win by the preferable method of moral suasion, was abundantly
able to resort to bulldozing or "solid" methods. Just the man to take
care of Senator Hamblin's interest, he was a standing delegate to
all conventions where he could be of service to his chief. Although
prepossessing in personal appearance, his hands were ever ready to
perform any dirty work consistent with the average ward politician.
Editor Rawlings, another tool of Senator Hamblin, had been under the
protection of his chief for a long time. His paper, like many country
journals, was financially weak, but the purse-strings of the Senator,
drawn about the editor's neck, enabled him to eke out an existence.
When the Senator wished an article to appear in the _Investigator_, he
was such a liberal paymaster that Editor Rawlings never hesitated to
throw out paying advertisements to please him. The _Investigator_ was
Hamblin's organ, and Rawlings the superserviceable monkey. Every time
the "boss" desired the crank turned, the monkey danced to the uttermost
limit of the string, but if the string had broken the monkey could not
have been controlled. Rawlings was one of those detestable creatures who
have done so much to destroy the influence of respectable journalism. He
was of that breed of rodents which sneak into an honorable profession
and gnaw only where there is cheese.
George Horton, chairman of the county committee, another lieutenant of
the same general, held the office of County Clerk, and although not as
willing to perform dirty work as his companions, was an able adviser,
with a mind prolific of deep-laid schemes. Being a zealous partisan of
the "boss," in all advisory councils he was an important factor.
The quartette was a true type of the American political clique; their
deliberations a fair sample of such conferences.
"Well, gentlemen," said the Senator, "help yourselves to cigars, and let
us proceed to business. Miller, what is your opinion of my chance for
renomination? Speak out--let us be frank with each other. What is Daley
about, and does he intend to make us trouble?"
"Well--y-e-s," drawled out Miller, "he intends to beat you if possible.
Approaching Rawlings on Sunday, he began working on him, even offering
to help sustain the paper if Rawlings would not be tied to any one
individual. If I am not mistaken he actually offered to advance the cash
to buy a new press and engine for the office. Eh, Rawlings?"
The latter, turning red, was somewhat embarrassed, but soon regaining
his composure, replied:
"Yes, the cuss _did_ make a pretty good bid for my influence. You see,
he knows he can't get along without a newspaper, and knowing the Senator
would do as well as the next man I just dropped him--yes, dropped him
like a hot potato, so to speak. When I go for a man I'm always solid.
I'm a thoroughbred, and no man knows that better than our honorable
friend, the next Governor of the State BY THUNDER!" and he
emphasized the remark by bringing his closed hand down upon the table.
"Never mind that, Rawlings; I know you are all right, but we must
head off Daley. That quarrel with my clerk on the Canal Committee was
unfortunate, but the young rascal can have nothing to use against me
unless he resorts to slander and lies, which unscrupulous enemies may
put him up to. We must first get Daley out of the way. He has a little
money, but not much; although he claims, you say, that the railroad
interest are backing him against me. See here, Horton, what can you
suggest? let me hear from you. First we will take a glass of wine.
Rawlings, touch that bell. There; a waiter will soon be here. Light
fresh cigars, gentlemen; by the by, Rawlings, did you ever visit Lake
George?"
"No, sir."
"No? Well, you must go up there. I shall return soon and you must be my
guest."
"All very nice, Senator, but where are the 'spons' to liquidate the
minutiæ, eh? You millionaires think newspaper men can scoop in all the
plums, by thunder! The only time we can enjoy an excursion is when
somebody's old steamboat wants puffing up. Now look here, Senator, if
the door of heaven could be entered for a cent I couldn't afford to even
peek under the canvas."
"Well, well, Rawlings," Hamblin replied laughingly, "we will look after
the press, for if we do not keep this great lever of the world in order
the world will suffer. Now, gentlemen, let us indulge in a little
champagne. Here, waiter, fill up. Gentlemen, your health." And the
Senator raised a glass to his lips.
"Drink quick," exclaimed Rawlings, "for Daleys are dangerous."
It was a poor pun, but the point seen by the party the Senator said:
"Ah, Rawlings, you are a cool fellow. The mighty men of the Fourth
Estate are the literary and social princes of the day. Another cigar,
Rawlings, and then I move the previous question with additional power of
debate."
Thus did Senator Hamblin touch the weak points of his fellow-men. Well
knowing flattery and wine were twin demons, attractive and seductive,
with their assistance he enticed many men into his net. He had little
confidence in Rawlings, well aware that if his antagonist Daley should
offer more than he to obtain the influence of the _Investigator_,
Rawlings would not hesitate to desert him. Perceiving his embarrassment
when Miller mentioned the Daley matter, and well aware he had given
Daley to understand the _Investigator_ was in the market, Senator
Hamblin threw out the Lake George invitation, for Rawlings was
susceptible to flattery, and liking the flesh-pots well filled with
milk and honey, when approached through the stomach, the gateway to his
affection, was at the command of the man desiring to enter. A week of
feasting at the "Lakeside" and such private attention as the Senator
could show Rawlings would apparently hold him.
"Horton, let us hear from you. What shall we do to force Daley from the
course? You must have something to say on the subject?"
"I can tell you where Daley left a bar down, when elected to the
Assembly last year," replied Horton. "I know a man who will swear
he received two hundred and fifty dollars from him, with which to
buy votes. This might be worked up and Rawlings can help us, the
_Investigator_ sounding the key-note in the editor's well chosen words
and--"
"But see here, Horton, I can't run the risk of being sued for libel.
Remember, Senator, I am not a millionaire, although I may put on a
million airs," quickly replied the editor.
"Here is my plan," Horton continued, as if not noticing the remark.
"Rawlings in his next issue must write a powerful leader advocating your
renomination, hinting there is to be another candidate, and say in words
like this:
"'At this time there must be no change of horses, for Senator Hamblin
has served his constituency faithfully, his hands being free from any
taint of corruption. If the voters of this district wish to bring out a
new candidate, it must be one who has never placed himself in position
to be indicted for committing perjury, by taking the ironclad oath as a
certain Assemblyman has done.'
"There, how does that strike you, Senator, and how does it hit you,
Rawlings?"
The latter, hesitating, looked toward Senator Hamblin, who arose,
took him by the arm, and walking toward the window stepped out on the
balcony. They were absent about five minutes, and on re-entering the
room, Rawlings approaching Horton, extended his hand and said:
"All right, Horton, old fellow; put it there. The thing shall be done or
my name isn't Joe Rawlings. I must go to the telegraph office at once."
Seizing his hat he passed out as a telegraph messenger entered.
"A telegram for Cyrus Hart Miller."
"Here, boy!" replied that individual, and seizing the dispatch quickly
tore open the envelope. The telegram being in cipher, Miller took from
his pocket a memorandum, dismissed the boy, and making out the contents
his face turned red with excitement, and he said:
"Just as I feared. Rawlings has really sold out to Daley. His paper
appears on Tuesday, and unless he wires the boys immediately, we're
euchred! Did you make any arrangement with him, Senator?"
"Yes, I 'fixed' him, and he has gone to telegraph his foreman. An
article left at his office, he said, covered the whole ground and he
would wire the boys to put it in type. To-morrow evening we will go to
Cleverdale and be on the ground to cut off any attempt of Daley to beat
us. Go at once, Miller, and secure a copy of Rawlings's dispatch--money
will do it."
A few moments later Miller came in, privately handing the Senator a copy
of the dispatch, which read as follows:
SARATOGA.
FOREMAN _Investigator_, Cleverdale, N. Y.
Kill double-leaded leader, "A Change of Candidates Must be
Made," and substitute article on sanctum copy-hook, entitled,
"Senator Hamblin's Great Public Services."
(Signed) J. RAWLINGS.
Senator Hamblin stepping into his bedroom read the message; returning, a
pleasant smile illumined his countenance. Touching the bell, he ordered
another bottle of wine.