THE LEOPARD AND HIS SPOTS
It is difficult to overestimate the importance of Mr. Humphrey Crewe, of
his value to the town of Leith, and to the State at large, and in these
pages only a poor attempt at an appreciation of him may be expected. Mr.
Crewe by no means underestimated this claim upon the community, and he
had of late been declaring that he was no summer resident. Wedderburn was
his home, and there he paid his taxes. Undoubtedly, they were less than
city taxes.
Although a young man, Mr. Crewe was in all respects a model citizen, and
a person of many activities. He had built a farmers' club, to which the
farmers, in gross ingratitude, had never gone. Now it was a summer
residence and distinctly rentable. He had a standing offer to erect a
library in the village of Leith provided the town would furnish the
ground, the books, and permit the name of Crewe to be carved in stone
over the doorway. The indifference of the town pained him, and he was
naturally not a little grieved at the lack of proper feeling of the
country people of America towards those who would better their
conditions. He had put a large memorial window in the chapel to his
family.
Mr. Crewe had another standing offer to be one of five men to start a
farming experiment station--which might pay dividends. He, was a church
warden; president of a society for turning over crops (which he had
organized); a member of the State Grange; president of the embryo State
Economic League (whatever that was); and chairman of the Local
Improvement Board--also a creation of his own. By these tokens, and
others too numerous to mention, it would seem that the inhabitants of
Leith would have jumped at the chance to make such a man one of the five
hundred in their State Legislature.
To Whitman is attributed the remark that genius is almost one hundred per
cent directness, but whether or not this applied to Mr. Humphrey Crewe
remains to be seen. "Dynamics" more surely expressed him. It would not
seem to be a very difficult feat, to be sure, to get elected to a State
Legislature of five hundred which met once a year: once in ten years,
indeed, might have been more appropriate for the five hundred. The town
of Leith with its thousand inhabitants had one representative, and Mr.
Crewe had made up his mind he was to be that representative.
There was, needless to say, great excitement in Leith over Mr. Crewe's
proposed venture into the unknown seas of politics. I mean, of course,
that portion of Leith which recognized in Mr. Crewe an eligible bachelor
and a person of social importance, for these qualities were not
particularly appealing to the three hundred odd farmers whose votes were
expected to send him rejoicing to the State capital.
"It is so rare with us for a gentleman to go into politics, that we ought
to do everything we can to elect him," Mrs. Pomfret went about declaring.
"Women do so much in England, I wonder they don't do more here. I was
staying at Aylestone Court last year when the Honourable Billy Aylestone
was contesting the family seat with a horrid Radical, and I assure you,
my dear, I got quite excited. We did nothing from morning till night but
electioneer for the Honourable Billy, and kissed all the babies in the
borough. The mothers were so grateful. Now, Edith, do tell Jack instead
of playing tennis and canoeing all day he ought to help. It's the duty of
all young men to help. Noblesse oblige, you know. I can't understand
Victoria. She really has influence with these country people, but she
says it's all nonsense. Sometimes I think Victoria has a common streak in
her--and no wonder. The other day she actually drove to the Hammonds' in
a buggy with an unknown lawyer from Ripton. But I told you about it. Tell
your gardener and the people that do your haying, dear, and your chicken
woman. My chicken woman is most apathetic, but do you wonder, with the
life they lead?"
Mr. Humphrey Crewe might have had, with King Charles, the watchword
"Thorough." He sent to the town clerk for a check-list, and proceeded to
honour each of the two hundred Republican voters with a personal visit.
This is a fair example of what took place in the majority of cases.
Out of a cloud of dust emerges an automobile, which halts, with
protesting brakes, in front of a neat farmhouse, guarded by great maples.
Persistent knocking by a chauffeur at last brings a woman to the door.
Mrs. Jenney has a pleasant face and an ample figure.
"Mr. Jenney live here?" cries Mr. Crewe from the driver's seat.
"Yes," says Mrs. Jenney, smiling.
"Tell him I want to see him."
"Guess you'll find him in the apple orchard."
"Where's that?"
The chauffeur takes down the bars, Mr. Jenney pricks up his ears, and
presently--to his amazement--perceives a Leviathan approaching him,
careening over the ruts of his wood road. Not being an emotional person,
he continues to pick apples until he is summarily hailed. Then he goes
leisurely towards the Leviathan.
"Are you Mr. Jenney?"
"Callate to be," says Mr. Jenney, pleasantly.
"I'm Humphrey Crewe."
"How be you?" says Mr. Jenney, his eyes wandering over the Leviathan.
"How are the apples this year?" asks Mr. Crewe, graciously.
"Fair to middlin'," says Mr. Jenney.
"Have you ever tasted my Pippins?" says Mr. Crewe. "A little science in
cultivation helps along. I'm going to send you a United States government
pamphlet on the fruit we can raise here."
Mr. Jenney makes an awkward pause by keeping silent on the subject of the
pamphlet until he shall see it.
"Do you take much interest in politics?"
"Not a great deal," answers Mr. Jenney.
"That's the trouble with Americans," Mr. Crewe declares, "they don't care
who represents 'em, or whether their government's good or bad."
"Guess that's so," replies Mr. Jenney, politely.
"That sort of thing's got to stop," declares Mr. Crewe; "I'm a candidate
for the Republican nomination for representative."
"I want to know!" ejaculates Mr. Jenney, pulling his beard. One would
never suspect that this has been one of Mr. Jenney's chief topics of
late.
"I'll see that the interests of this town are cared for."
"Let's see," says Mr. Jenney, "there's five hundred in the House, ain't
there?"
"It's a ridiculous number," says Mr. Crewe, with truth.
"Gives everybody a chance to go," says Mr. Jenney. "I was thar in '78,
and enjoyed it some."
"Who are you for?" demanded Mr. Crewe, combating the tendency of the
conversation to slip into a pocket.
"Little early yet, hain't it? Hain't made up my mind. Who's the
candidates?" asks Mr. Jenney, continuing to stroke his beard.
"I don't know," says Mr. Crewe, "but I do know I've done something for
this town, and I hope you'll take it into consideration. Come and see me
when you go to the village. I'll give you a good cigar, and that
pamphlet, and we'll talk matters over."
"Never would have thought to see one of them things in my orchard," says
Mr. Jenney. "How much do they cost? Much as a locomotive, don't they?"
It would not be exact to say that, after some weeks of this sort of
campaigning, Mr. Crewe was discouraged, for such writhe vitality with
which nature had charged him that he did not know the meaning of the
word. He was merely puzzled, as a June-bug is puzzled when it bumps up
against a wire window-screen. He had pledged to him his own gardener,
Mrs. Pomfret's, the hired men of three of his neighbours, a few modest
souls who habitually took off their hats to him, and Mr. Ball, of the
village, who sold groceries to Wedderburn and was a general handy man for
the summer people. Mr. Ball was an agitator by temperament and a promoter
by preference. If you were a summer resident of importance and needed
anything from a sewing-machine to a Holstein heifer, Mr. Ball, the
grocer, would accommodate you. When Mrs. Pomfret's cook became inebriate
and refractory, Mr. Ball was sent for, and enticed her to the station and
on board of a train; when the Chillinghams' tank overflowed, Mr. Ball
found the proper valve and saved the house from being washed away. And it
was he who, after Mrs. Pomfret, took the keenest interest in Mr. Crewe's
campaign. At length came one day when Mr. Crewe pulled up in front of the
grocery store and called, as his custom was, loudly for Mr. Ball. The
fact that Mr. Ball was waiting on customers made no difference, and
presently that gentleman appeared, rubbing his hands together.
"How do you do, Mr. Crewe?" he said, "automobile going all right?"
"What's the matter with these fellers?" said Mr. Crewe. "Haven't I done
enough for the town? Didn't I get 'em rural free delivery? Didn't I
subscribe to the meeting-house and library, and don't I pay more taxes
than anybody else?"
"Certain," assented Mr. Ball, eagerly, "certain you do." It did not seem
to occur to him that it was unfair to make him responsible for the scurvy
ingratitude of his townsmen. He stepped gingerly down into the dust and
climbed up on the tool box.
"Look out," said Mr. Crewe, "don't scratch the varnish. What is it?"
Mr. Ball shifted obediently to the rubber-covered step, and bent his face
to his patron's ear.
"It's railrud," he said.
"Railroad!" shouted Mr. Crewe, in a voice that made the grocer clutch his
arm in terror. "Don't pinch me like that. Railroad! This town ain't
within ten miles of the railroad."
"For the love of David," said Mr. Ball, "don't talk so loud, Mr. Crewe."
"What's the railroad got to do with it?" Mr. Crewe demanded.
Mr. Ball glanced around him, to make sure that no one was within shouting
distance.
"What's the railrud got to do with anything in this State?" inquired Mr.
Ball, craftily.
"That's different," said Mr. Crewe, shortly, "I'm a corporation man
myself. They've got to defend 'emselves."
"Certain. I ain't got anything again' 'em," Mr. Ball agreed quickly. "I
guess they know what they're about. By the bye, Mr. Crewe," he added,
coming dangerously near the varnish again, and drawing back, "you hain't
happened to have seen Job Braden, have you?"
"Job Braden!" exclaimed Mr. Crewe, "Job Braden! What's all this mystery
about Job Braden? Somebody whispers that name in my ear every day. If you
mean that smooth-faced cuss that stutters and lives on Braden's Hill, I
called on him, but he was out. If you see him, tell him to come up to
Wedderburn, and I'll talk with him."
Mr. Ball made a gesture to indicate a feeling divided between respect for
Mr. Crewe and despair at the hardihood of such a proposition.
"Lord bless you, sir, Job wouldn't go."
"Wouldn't go?"
"He never pays visits,--folks go to him."
"He'd come to see me, wouldn't he?"
"I--I'm afraid riot, Mr. Crewe. Job holds his comb rather high."
"Do you mean to say this two-for-a-cent town has a boss?"
"Silas Grantley was born here," said Mr. Ball--for even the worm will
turn. "This town's got a noble history."
"I don't care anything about Silas Grantley. What I want to know is, how
this rascal manages to make anything out of the political pickings of a
town like Leith."
"Well, Job ain't exactly a rascal, Mr. Crewe. He's got a good many of
them hill farmers in a position of--of gratitude. Enough to control the
Republican caucus."
"Do you mean he buys their votes?" demanded Mr. Crewe.
"It's like this," explained Mr. Ball, "if one of 'em falls behind in his
grocery bill, for example, he can always get money from Job. Job takes a
mortgage, but he don't often close down on 'm. And Job has been
collectin' credentials in Avalon County for upward of forty years."
"Collecting credentials?"
"Yes. Gets a man nominated to State and county conventions that can't go,
and goes himself with a bunch of credentials. He's in a position to
negotiate. He was in all them railrud fights with Jethro Bass, and now he
does business with Hilary Vane or Brush Bascom when anything especial's
goin' on. You'd ought to see him, Mr. Crewe."
"I guess I won't waste my time with any picayune boss if the United
Northeastern Railroads has any hand in this matter," declared Mr. Crewe.
"Wind her up."
This latter remark was addressed to a long-suffering chauffeur who looked
like a Sicilian brigand.
"I didn't exactly like to suggest it," said Mr. Ball, rubbing his hands
and raising his voice above the whir of the machine, "but of course I
knew Mr. Flint was an intimate friend. A word to him from you--"
But by this Mr. Crewe had got in his second speed and was sweeping around
a corner lined with farmers' teams, whose animals were behaving like
circus horses. On his own driveway, where he arrived in incredibly brief
time, he met his stenographer, farm superintendent, secretary,
housekeeper, and general utility man, Mr. Raikes. Mr. Raikes was elderly,
and showed signs of needing a vacation.
"Telephone Mr. Flint, Raikes, and tell him I would like an appointment at
his earliest convenience, on important business."
Mr. Raikes, who was going for his daily stroll beside the river, wheeled
and made for the telephone, and brought back the news that Mr. Flint
would be happy to see Mr. Crewe the next afternoon at four o'clock.
This interview, about which there has been so much controversy in the
newspapers, and denials and counter-denials from the press bureaus of
both gentlemen,--this now historic interview began at four o'clock
precisely the next day. At that hour Mr. Crewe was ushered into that
little room in which Mr. Flint worked when at Fairview. Like Frederick
the Great and other famous captains, Mr. Flint believed in an iron
bedstead regime. The magnate was, as usual, fortified behind his oak
desk; the secretary with a bend in his back was in modest evidence; and
an elderly man of comfortable proportions, with a large gold watch-charm
portraying the rising sun, and who gave, somehow, the polished impression
of a marble, sat near the window smoking a cigar. Mr. Crewe approached
the desk with that genial and brisk manner for which he was noted and
held out his hand to the railroad president.
"We are both business men, and both punctual, Mr. Flint," he said, and
sat down in the empty chair beside his host, eyeing without particular
favour him of the watch-charm, whose cigar was not a very good one. "I
wanted to have a little private conversation with you which might be of
considerable interest to us both." And Mr. Crewe laid down on the desk a
somewhat formidable roll of papers.
"I trust the presence of Senator Whitredge will not deter you," answered
Mr. Flint. "He is an old friend of mine."
Mr. Crewe was on his feet again with surprising alacrity, and beside the
senator's chair.
"How are you, Senator?" he said, "I have never had the pleasure of
meeting you, but I know you by reputation."
The senator got to his feet. They shook hands, and exchanged cordial
greetings; and during the exchange Mr. Crewe looked out of the window,
and the senator's eyes were fixed on the telephone receiver on Mr.
Flint's desk. As neither gentleman took hold of the other's fingers very
hard, they fell apart quickly.
"I am very happy to meet you, Mr. Crewe," said the senator. Mr. Crewe sat
down again, and not being hampered by those shrinking qualities so fatal
to success he went on immediately:--"There is nothing which I have to
say that the senator cannot hear. I made the appointment with you, Mr.
Flint, to talk over a matter which may be of considerable importance to
us both. I have made up my mind to go to the Legislature."
Mr. Crewe naturally expected to find visible effects of astonishment and
joy on the faces of his hearers at such not inconsiderable news. Mr.
Flint, however, looked serious enough, though the senator smiled as he
blew his smoke out of the window.
"Have you seen Job Braden, Mr. Crewe?" he asked, with genial jocoseness.
"They tell me that Job is still alive and kicking over in your parts."
"Thank you, Senator," said Mr. Crewe, "that brings me to the very point I
wish to emphasize. Everywhere in Leith I am met with the remark, 'Have
you seen Job Braden?' And I always answer, 'No, I haven't seen Mr.
Braden, and I don't intend to see him."'
Mr. Whitredge laughed, and blew out a ring of smoke. Mr. Flint's face
remained sober.
"Now, Mr. Flint," Mr. Crewe went on, "you and I understand each other,
and we're on the same side of the fence. I have inherited some interests
in corporations myself, and I have acquired an interest in others. I am a
director in several. I believe that it is the duty of property to protect
itself, and the duty of all good men in politics,--such as the senator
here,"--(bow from Mr. Whitredge) to protect property. I am a practical
man, and I think I can convince you, if you don't see it already, that my
determination to go to the Legislature is an advantageous thing for your
railroad."
"The advent of a reputable citizen into politics is always a good thing
for the railroad, Mr. Crewe," said Mr. Flint.
"Exactly," Mr. Crewe agreed, ignoring the non-committal quality of this
remark, "and if you get a citizen who is a not inconsiderable property
holder, a gentleman, and a college graduate,--a man who, by study and
predilection, is qualified to bring about improved conditions in the
State, so much the better."
"So much the better," said Mr. Flint.
"I thought you would see it that way," Mr. Crewe continued. "Now a man of
your calibre must have studied to some extent the needs of the State, and
it must have struck you that certain improvements go hand in hand with
the prosperity of your railroad."
"Have a cigar, Mr. Crewe. Have another, Senator?" said Mr. Flint. "I
think that is safe as a general proposition, Mr. Crewe."
"To specify," said Mr. Crewe, laying his hand on the roll of papers he
had brought, "I have here bills which I have carefully drawn up and which
I will leave for your consideration. One is to issue bonds for ten
millions to build State roads."
"Ten millions!" said Mr. Flint, and the senator whistled mildly.
"Think about it," said Mr. Crewe, "the perfection of the highways through
the State, instead of decreasing your earnings, would increase them
tremendously. Visitors by the tens of thousands would come in
automobiles, and remain and buy summer places. The State would have its
money back in taxes and business in no time at all. I wonder somebody
hasn't seen it before--the stupidity of the country legislator is
colossal. And we want forestry laws, and laws for improving the condition
of the farmers--all practical things. They are all there," Mr. Crewe
declared, slapping the bundle; "read them, Mr. Flint. If you have any
suggestions to make, kindly note them on the margin, and I shall be glad
to go over them with you."
By this time the senator was in a rare posture for him--he was seated
upright.
"As you know, I am a very busy man, Mr. Crewe," said the railroad
president.
"No one appreciates that more fully than I do, Mr. Flint," said Mr.
Crewe; "I haven't many idle hours myself. I think you will find the bills
and my comments on them well worth your consideration from the point of
view of advantage to your railroad. They are typewritten, and in concrete
form. In fact, the Northeastern Railroads and myself must work together
to our mutual advantage--that has become quite clear to me. I shall have
need of your help in passing the measures."
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand you, Mr. Crewe," said Mr. Flint,
putting down the papers.
"That is," said Mr. Crewe, "if you approve of the bills, and I am
confident that I shall be able to convince you."
"What do you want me to do?" asked the railroad president.
"Well, in the first place," said Mr. Crewe, unabashed, "send word to your
man Braden that you've seen me and it's all right."
"I assure you," answered Mr. Flint, giving evidence for the first time of
a loss of patience, "that neither the Northeastern Railroads nor myself,
have any more to do with this Braden than you have."
Mr. Crewe, being a man of the world, looked incredulous.
"Senator," Mr. Flint continued, turning to Mr. Whitredge, "you know as
much about politics in this State as any man of my acquaintance, have you
ever heard of any connection between this Braden and the Northeastern
Railroads?"
The senator had a laugh that was particularly disarming.
"Bless your soul, no," he replied. "You will pardon me, Mr. Crewe, but
you must have been listening to some farmer's tale. The railroad is the
bugaboo in all these country romances. I've seen old Job Braden at
conventions ever since I was a lad. He's a back number, one of the few
remaining disciples and imitators of Jethro Bass: talks like him and acts
like him. In the old days when there were a lot of little railroads, he
and Bijah Bixby and a few others used to make something out of them, but
since the consolidation, and Mr. Flint's presidency, Job stays at home.
They tell me he runs Leith yet. You'd better go over and fix it up with
him."
A somewhat sarcastic smile of satisfaction was playing over Mr. Flint's
face as he listened to the senator's words. As a matter of fact, they
were very nearly true as regarded Job Braden, but Mr. Crewe may be
pardoned for thinking that Mr. Flint was not showing him quite the
confidence due from one business and corporation man to another. He was
by no means abashed,--Mr. Crewe had too much spirit for that. He merely
became--as a man whose watchword is "thorough" will--a little more
combative.
"Well, read the bills anyway, Mr. Flint, and I'll come and go over them
with you. You can't fail to see my arguments, and all I ask is that you
throw the weight of your organization at the State capital for them when
they come up."
Mr. Flint drummed on the table.
"The men who have held office in this State," he said, "have always been
willing to listen to any suggestion I may have thought proper to make to
them. This is undoubtedly because I am at the head of the property which
pays the largest taxes. Needless to say I am chary of making suggestions.
But I am surprised that you should have jumped at a conclusion which is
the result of a popular and unfortunately prevalent opinion that the
Northeastern Railroads meddled in any way with the government or politics
of this State. I am glad of this opportunity of assuring you that we do
not," he continued, leaning forward and holding up his hand to ward off
interruption, "and I know that Senator Whitredge will bear me out in this
statement, too."
The senator nodded gravely. Mr. Crewe, who was anything but a fool, and
just as assertive as Mr. Flint, cut in.
"Look here, Mr. Flint," he said, "I know what a lobby is. I haven't been
a director in railroads myself for nothing. I have no objection to a
lobby. You employ counsel before the Legislature, don't you--"
"We do," said Mr. Flint, interrupting, "the best and most honourable
counsel we can find in the State. When necessary, they appear before the
legislative committees. As a property holder in the State, and an admirer
of its beauties, and as its well-wisher, it will give me great pleasure
to look over your bills, and use whatever personal influence I may have
as a citizen to forward them, should they meet my approval. And I am
especially glad to do this as a neighbour, Mr. Crewe. As a neighbour," he
repeated, significantly.
The president of the Northeastern Railroads rose as he spoke these words,
and held out his hand to Mr. Crewe. It was perhaps a coincidence that the
senator rose also.
"All right," said Mr. Crewe, "I'll call around again in about two weeks.
Come and see me sometime, Senator." "Thank you," said the senator, "I
shall be happy. And if you are ever in your automobile near the town of
Ramsey, stop at my little farm, Mr. Crewe. I trust to be able soon to
congratulate you on a step which I am sure will be but the beginning of
a long and brilliant political career."
"Thanks," said Mr. Crewe; "by the bye, if you could see your way to drop
a hint to that feller Braden, I should be much obliged."
The senator shook his head and laughed.
"Job is an independent cuss," he said, "I'm afraid he'd regard that as an
unwarranted trespass on his preserves."
Mr. Crewe was ushered out by the stooping secretary, Mr. Freeman; who,
instead of seizing Mr. Crewe's hand as he had Austen Vane's, said not a
word. But Mr. Crewe would have been interested if he could have heard Mr.
Flint's first remark to the senator after the door was closed on his
back. It did not relate to Mr. Crewe, but to the subject under discussion
which he had interrupted; namely, the Republican candidates for the
twenty senatorial districts of the State.
On its way back to Leith the red motor paused in front of Mr. Ball's
store, and that gentleman was summoned in the usual manner.
"Do you see this Braden once in a while?" Mr. Crewe demanded.
Mr. Ball looked knowing.
"Tell him I want to have a talk with him," said Mr. Crewe. "I've been to
see Mr. Flint, and I think matters can be arranged. And mind you, no word
about this, Ball."
"I guess I understand a thing or two," said Mr. Ball. "Trust me to handle
it."
Two days later, as Mr. Crewe was seated in his study, his man entered and
stood respectfully waiting for the time when he should look up from his
book.
"Well, what is it now, Waters?"
"If you please, sir," said the man, "a strange message has come over the
telephone just now that you were to be in room number twelve of the
Ripton House to-morrow at ten o'clock. They wouldn't give any name, sir,"
added the dignified Waters, who, to tell the truth, was somewhat
outraged, nor tell where they telephoned from. But it was a man's voice,
sir."
"All right," said Mr. Crewe.
He spent much of the afternoon and evening debating whether or not his
dignity would permit him to go. But he ordered the motor at half-past
nine, and at ten o'clock precisely the clerk at the Ripton House was
bowing to him and handing him, deferentially, a dripping pen.
"Where's room number twelve?" said the direct Mr. Crewe.
"Oh," said the clerk, and possessing a full share of the worldly wisdom
of his calling, he smiled broadly. "I guess you'll find him up there, Mr.
Crewe. Front, show the gentleman to number twelve."
The hall boy knocked on the door of number twelve.
"C--come in," said a voice. "Come in."
Mr. Crewe entered, the hall boy closed the door, and he found himself
face to face with a comfortable, smooth-faced man seated with great
placidity on a rocking-chair in the centre of the room, between the bed
and the marble-topped table: a man to whom, evidently, a rich abundance
of thought was sufficient company, for he had neither newspaper nor book.
He rose in a leisurely fashion, and seemed the very essence of the benign
as he stretched forth his hand.
"I'm Mr. Crewe," the owner of that name proclaimed, accepting the hand
with no exaggeration of cordiality. The situation jarred on him a trifle.
"I know. Seed you on the road once or twice. How be you?"
Mr. Crewe sat down.
"I suppose you are Mr. Braden," he said.
Mr. Braden sank into the rocker and fingered a waistcoat pocket full of
cigars that looked like a section of a cartridge-belt.
"T--try one of mine," he said.
"I only smoke once after breakfast," said Mr. Crewe.
"Abstemious, be you? Never could find that it did me any hurt."
This led to an awkward pause, Mr. Crewe not being a man who found profit
in idle discussion. He glanced at Mr. Braden's philanthropic and beaming
countenance, which would have made the fortune of a bishop. It was not
usual for Mr. Crewe to find it difficult to begin a conversation, or to
have a companion as self-sufficient as himself. This man Braden had all
the fun, apparently, in sitting in a chair and looking into space that
Stonewall Jackson had, or an ordinary man in watching a performance of "A
Trip to Chinatown." Let it not be inferred, again, that Mr. Crewe was
abashed; but he was puzzled.
"I had an engagement in Ripton this morning," he said, "to see about some
business matters. And after I received your telephone I thought I'd drop
in here."
"Didn't telephone," said Mr. Braden, placidly.
"What!" said Mr. Crewe, "I certainly got a telephone message."
"N--never telephone," said Mr. Braden.
"I certainly got a message from you," Mr. Crewe protested.
"Didn't say it was from me--didn't say so--did they--"
"No," said Mr. Crewe, "but--"
"Told Ball you wanted to have me see you, didn't you?"
Mr. Crewe, when he had unravelled this sentence, did not fancy the way it
was put.
"I told Ball I was seeing everybody in Leith," he answered, "and that I
had called on you, and you weren't at home. Ball inferred that you had a
somewhat singular way of seeing people."
"You don't understand," was Mr. Braden's somewhat enigmatic reply.
"I understand pretty well," said Mr. Crewe. "I'm a candidate for the
Republican nomination for representative from Leith, and I want your vote
and influence. You probably know what I have done for the town, and that
I'm the biggest taxpayer, and an all-the-year-round resident."
"S--some in Noo York--hain't you?"
"Well, you can't expect a man in my position and with my interests to
stay at home all the time. I feel that I have a right to ask the town for
this nomination. I have some bills here which I'll request you to read
over, and you will see that I have ideas which are of real value to the
State. The State needs waking up-progressive measures. You're a farmer,
ain't you?"
"Well, I have be'n."
"I can improve the condition of the farmer one hundred per cent, and if
my road system is followed, he can get his goods to market for about a
tenth of what it costs him now. We have infinitely valuable forests in
the State which are being wasted by lumbermen, which ought to be
preserved. You read those bills, and what I have written about them."
"You don't understand," said Mr. Braden, drawing a little closer and
waving aside the manuscript with his cigar.
"Don't understand what?"
"Don't seem to understand," repeated Mr. Braden, confidingly laying his
hand on Mr. Crewe's knee. "Candidate for representative, be you?"
"Yes," replied Mr. Crewe, who was beginning to resent the manner in which
he deemed he was being played with, "I told you I was."
"M--made all them bills out before you was chose?" said Mr. Braden.
Mr. Crewe grew red in the face.
"I am interested in these questions," he said stiffly.
"Little mite hasty, wahn't it?" Mr. Braden remarked equably, "but you've
got plenty of time and money to fool with such things, if you've a mind
to. Them don't amount to a hill of beans in politics. Nobody pays any
attention to that sort of fireworks down to the capital, and if they was
to get into committee them Northeastern Railroads fellers'd bury 'em
deeper than the bottom of Salem pond. They don't want no such things as
them to pass."
"Pardon me," said Mr. Crewe, "but you haven't read 'em."
"I know what they be," said Mr. Braden, "I've be'n in politics more years
than you've be'n livin', I guess. I don't want to read 'em," he
announced, his benign manner unchanged.
"I think you have made a mistake so far as the railroad is concerned, Mr.
Braden," said Mr. Crewe, "I'm a practical man myself, and I don't indulge
in moonshine. I am a director in one or two railroads. I have talked this
matter over with Mr. Flint, and incidentally with Senator Whitredge."
"Knowed Whitredge afore you had any teeth," said Mr. Braden, who did not
seem to be greatly impressed, "know him intimate. What'd you go to Flint
for?"
"We have interests in common," said Mr. Crewe, "and I am rather a close
friend of his. My going to the Legislature will be, I think, to our
mutual advantage."
"O--ought to have come right to me," said Mr. Braden, leaning over until
his face was in close proximity to Mr. Crewe's. "Whitredge told you to
come to me, didn't he?"
Mr. Crewe was a little taken aback.
"The senator mentioned your name," he admitted.
"He knows. Said I was the man to see if you was a candidate, didn't he?
Told you to talk to Job Braden, didn't he?"
Now Mr. Crewe had no means of knowing whether Senator Whitredge had been
in conference with Mr. Braden or not.
"The senator mentioned your name casually, in some connection," said Mr.
Crewe.
"He knows," Mr. Braden repeated, with a finality that spoke volumes for
the senator's judgment; and he bent over into Mr. Crewe's ear, with the
air of conveying a mild but well-merited reproof, "You'd ought to come
right to me in the first place. I could have saved you all that
unnecessary trouble of seein' folks. There hasn't be'n a representative
left the town of Leith for thirty years that I hain't agreed to.
Whitredge knows that. If I say you kin go, you kin go. You understand,"
said Mr. Braden, with his fingers on Mr. Crewe's knee once more.
Five minutes later Mr. Crewe emerged into the dazzling sun of the Ripton
square, climbed into his automobile, and turned its head towards Leith,
strangely forgetting the main engagement which he said had brought him to
town.