Wheels within Wheels
On the other side of the closed door stood Eva Latimer, lips parted,
hands clasped on her breast in terror.
The Honorable William Moore came from between the portieres over the
door which he had used for entrance from Burroughs' apartments into the
Latimer suite.
"That's just like a woman!" he grumbled, as he returned to the Morris
chair. "Fly to open a door!"
"But I didn't open it!"
"No, but you meant to," severely.
"I was frightened," pleaded Eva.
"No, you were not," contradicted Moore. "You wanted to get that door
open. It wasn't necessary that it be opened at once. You should have
given me time to get out of here into those rooms that Burroughs
reserved for just such emergencies. It would never do for me to be found
here. But, no! That door must be opened! I've noticed that trait in
other women. They don't reason; they don't think. But they must have a
door opened the moment there is a knock."
"It might have been Winnie. After you told me that you gave our
signal--that you wanted to go over this list before dinner--I've been
sick with fear that she heard your scratch. But evidently she didn't,
for she asked no questions when I returned. I don't want her to suspect
anything. I never wanted you to come through those connecting doors,
anyway. Why not come openly, as everyone else does?"
"I tell you it would never do!" angrily. "Miss Blair had better
suspect--than know," grimly. "What people don't see they can't prove."
"It might have been Arthur," still seeking justification.
"Well, it wasn't," replied the political manager, coolly. "Besides, he
has a latch-key, and we should have heard its click. Now, let's get to
work. I've got a dinner engagement with Charlie Blair to-night at
eight-thirty. Here's the list. Let's check up."
The Honorable was very methodical, very systematic. He called off
senators and representatives in alphabetical order, and checked or drew
a line through their names as Eva told of her efforts in Burroughs'
behalf.
"How do you do it?" asked the man with admiration, as she reported that
one particularly obdurate senator, too rich to be influenced by money,
had promised his vote.
"I told him frankly that it was a personal affair," admitted the fair
lobbyist. "He knows women well enough to understand why I have never
been satisfied to live in this little hill city----"
"And he thought it his duty to see that your brilliancy lighted wider
domains--I see." Moore finished the sentence to suit himself.
"He was very nice about it," returned Eva, haughtily. "He thinks that
Arthur should have some recognition from the government for all that he
has done for the party; and he added that Arthur was too big a legal
light to be eclipsed by the shadow of Mount Helena." She paused,
evidently hesitating to speak further. "Can't you get the others on the
list yourself? I'm getting tired of----" She was shaken by the
unexpected knock; suddenly, but too late, she was afraid of what her
husband would think--would say. Her aspirations seemed of small account
after that tap that could not be answered.
"Get Charlie Blair's promise, and we'll be satisfied," said Moore, not
unkindly. "You have done very well."
"Will Mr. Burroughs keep his promise? He knows that I----" Eva could not
speak to Moore of her fear of the man whose money she would accept.
"Burroughs is all right. Words don't count, these days; it's money that
turns the trick."
"But I want more than money. I want that place for Arthur."
"My dear lady," urbane William rose and bowed. "If Robert Burroughs is
elected to the United States Senate, the judge shall be Minister to
Berlin. It is practically arranged already. Bob's a big man in his
party. What he asks for he'll get, never you fear. That is--in
Washington."
"I'm glad to be assured." Mrs. Latimer intimated by a look that the
interview was over, and rose. But Moore did not choose to go.
"When do you think that you can get Senator Blair? Heaven knows you've
spent more time on him than on all the rest put together."
"I begin to wish that I had never seen Charlie Blair," petulantly.
"Oh-h! It's that way, eh? He's getting a little--a lit----"
"Don't you dare!" flashed Mrs. Latimer. "You promised to ask no
questions."
"Pardon me. I said I didn't care what means you used," corrected Moore,
with delicate emphasis. He added, reflectively: "Blair has always been
something of a recluse; but I've noticed that when a Puritan once feels
a little of the warmth of the devil's presence that he's rather loath to
step out into the cold again." The look of anger from Mrs. Latimer made
him change both tone and words. "We have depended on you to get
Charlie," he said, reproachfully. "I never wanted to tackle him. You
know how it is? I've never had but one weakness----"
"Yes. She was here this afternoon when you signaled," interrupted Eva,
glad to repay him in ever so little for his insult. "What a pity that
you could not have known it. You might have come in."
"Thank God I didn't!"
"Winifred is too good for you. Senator Danvers is the sort she will
marry."
Not relishing the information, Moore turned to go. But he had one more
sting. "It'll be pretty hard for you to see Danvers married, won't it?"
Then, satisfied to see the quick flush on Eva's cheeks, he added
casually: "I'll talk with Blair to-night. You needn't bother with him
further." He knew how to frighten the woman. It was understood that she
must follow instructions or receive no pay.
"Give me one more chance," begged Eva, trembling.
As Mr. Moore walked briskly toward the club where he was to have dinner
with Blair he thought of all that underlay this winter's work, and it
seemed but a continuance of the days of fur and whiskey smuggling in the
Whoop Up Country. It was a series of wheels within wheels--this work of
electing a man to Congress; and the man's soul reveled in the intrigue
of it. He was quite content to be the one to superintend their
revolutions and to watch the havoc which they might cause. Burroughs'
vaulting ambition was the greatest need of all, but revolving around it
were the triple, lesser desires of the ex-trader; of wreaking vengeance
on Judge Latimer through his wife's folly; of causing Charlie Blair's
downfall, to repay the old grudge of the Queen's evidence; and of
wounding the hated Danvers through his friends, as well as separating
him from Winifred.
And now but one vote was needed to give Burroughs his heart's desire.
Moore had not told Eva this. But if Charlie could be secured to-night,
to-morrow or the next day he would give the signal, and the men, bought
but not yet delivered, would vote for Burroughs--and the battle be won!
Oh, it was glorious! Bob _was_ lucky. How often he had said it of
himself. Yet sudden fear came. A certain Corsican had thought that he
was the darling of the gods, and confused his luck with destiny. Had
Burroughs made the same mistake? Certainly not. Moore's habitual
confidence returned manifold. The opposition was divided among too many
men to amount to anything more than to keep Burroughs in uncertainty,
and no stretching of his imagination could conceive any one man fusing
their warring elements. Moore already saw his winter's work crowned with
success.
Blair was waiting on the club steps for his host, and the dinner was
ready. They were unusually silent until the black coffee and the cigars
were brought. Then Moore leaned forward to reach the cognac for his
coffee and asked:
"How much does it cost you a year to live, Charlie? Expenses run pretty
high?"
The questions were unexpected. Blair knew the motive of his host in
giving a dinner, for Moore seldom entertained without an underlying
reason. Certainly he never spent his own or Burroughs' money without
expecting fair returns. But Charlie had thought the attack would be more
direct. Therefore he answered lightly:
"I might reply as a colored man did who was asked how little he could
live on. 'I live and work on three cents' worth of peanuts a day, but
I'm a little hungry sometimes.'"
Mr. Moore smiled perfunctorily. He had no sense of humor.
"What have you been doing all summer?"
"Prospecting."
"Prospecting is like trying to raise money without security. Neither
pans out."
"Precious little you know about either," retorted Blair.
"You're a poor man," said Moore, abruptly. The announcement struck the
senator as superfluous. He nodded.
"I am familiar with the fact."
The Honorable William resolved to strike. He had never thought to speak
to Charlie, but if Mrs. Latimer could not bring him to the point he
would have to do it himself. One more member must be secured, and Blair
was the only possible man. The other legislators who had not already
succumbed seemed impregnable.
Moore became impatient as he remembered how easy it had seemed at first
to secure enough votes to elect his chief.
"Charlie," he began, clearing his throat, "we want you in this fight we
are making, and we want you hard. We are going to win. We are going to
get the votes; if we don't get them one way, we're going to get them
another."
"So I've understood."
The host felt on unstable ground at the noncommittal answer, but he
boldly pushed ahead. No time to fear quicksands--the end of the session
was too near! He dwelt on the good that Burroughs could do the State if
he went to Congress, and finally repeated:
"Bob's going to be elected. He's gaining votes every day. But we need to
get the thing over with, and--it will be to your financial interest to
work with us." Moore played nervously with his teaspoon.
Senator Blair watched his smoke rings fade, and made no response. Both
men were silent for a time. Moore occupied himself by placing, with
infinite exactness, three cubes of sugar on his spoon and pouring brandy
over them. When the liquor was fired the blue flame lighted his face
weirdly. So might _Mephistopheles_ have looked when tempting _Faust_. He
was thinking that Blair had always been a failure, and always would
be--slow, methodical, too dull to see his best interests. He was a
plodder, content with moderate means, when infinite opportunities in
Montana waited a man's grasp--if he was sharp enough.
But silent Charlie was thinking that his opportunity had come. During
the past weeks he had observed, with his usual calm, the trend of
events. He had been inclined to promise Mrs. Latimer the boon she asked,
for he would be glad to promote Judge Latimer's advancement
(remembering the fine that Latimer had paid at Fort Macleod), even if
in doing so he should aid the man he hated for stealing his squaw. But
Charlie was beginning to forget the judge's kindness in his passion for
the judge's wife. He realized that as soon as he cast his vote for
Burroughs all the advances and marks of favor which stamp a lobbyist of
the sex without a franchise would be a thing of the past--an episode to
be forgotten. He had quite lost sight of the commandment, "Thou shalt
not covet thy neighbor's wife." Instead, he was dreaming over the fact
of a possible possession.
Knowing too well the paucity of his bank account, he was tempted to play
both sides--to make a big strike with Moore, and to press his
half-repulsed, half-accepted passion until Eva Latimer should consent to
his plans for the future. To sum the matter up: He meant to get more
than anyone else from this business of electing a United States senator.
Never mind Winifred. The lure of inviting eyes had so completely
ensnared him that during these days of intrigue he had almost forgotten
the existence of his sister in the alternate intoxication of Eva's
companionship and the less dangerous one of liquor.
The host grew impatient as his guest made no effort to reopen the
conversation. He drank his coffee with a jerk and drew an envelope from
his pocket. It was stuffed with bills, and a torn corner showed the
figures "1000." Moore pulled it out and threw it across the table.
"There! That's what Burroughs and I do business with," he exclaimed.
"'Tisn't so heavy as gold, nor as pretty; but it's a pretty good
substitute. It's not intended to influence your vote," he hastened to
add, as he noted the senator's expression; "it just shows you that my
feelings are agreeable toward you--and that pretty sister of yours."
"Leave my sister out of it, please," commanded Blair, with dignity. "I
can't use a thousand-dollar bank note. I'm not in the habit of flashing
bills of that denomination."
"You will be if you tie to us," suggested the tempter. "Thousand-dollar
bills will be as common in Helena in a few days as nickels in a
contribution box. I'm about out of 'em myself, but the old man's
bringing in a stack to-night. They come in right handy for contingent
expenses."
"I suppose so," assented Blair, pocketing the money with a fine air of
preoccupation that made the Honorable William smile the smile of the
canary-nourished cat. "If there's any money going I'd like to get my
share of it, of course, if it could be done without my sister knowing
it. But I'll not vote for Burroughs until the last one. Perhaps then
I'll see about changing if you are sure that you have a majority."
Moore rapidly ran over a list of names. "Will that satisfy you?" he
demanded. "You see, I trust you. Every man I have named will vote for
Burroughs whenever I say so. I may never call on them all--I won't
unless I have to. But"--the pause was purposely impressive--"they are to
have their money whether they are called upon or not, and so will you,
provided that Burroughs is elected."
"You'll never make me believe that Joe Hall can be bought--not until I
hear him give his vote for Robert Burroughs. I notice you have him
listed. He hates Bob more than I do, and that's saying a good deal."
"He was the easiest one of the whole bunch. He was the cheapest, and
he's afraid he won't earn his money."
"Does Burroughs sanction all this?" Senator Blair was amazed, not so
much at the men bought as at the sum total that must have been expended.
Why was Burroughs so anxious to go to Congress? He did not need the
money that was popularly supposed to accrue to senators in Washington
from land grants, timber lands and other large steals; he had millions
already.
"Well, he's putting up the dough, but I don't trouble him with all the
minor details," admitted Moore.
"Bob's not the only one who's offering good money for votes," said
Blair.
"Who has approached you?"
"That's like asking who yelled fire at a theater. There are some seven
candidates, and a thousand workers--I can't name them all."
"We expect to pay every member who votes for Burroughs--of his own party
or not. The man who votes for him without being paid is a fool."
"Might as well have a red flag of auction placed on the speaker's desk."
Senator Blair was inclined to moralize.
"Money is a legitimate source of influence in a Legislature." Moore was
on the defensive.
"I judge that you think so, if no one else. But, see here! I can't vote
for Burroughs, any way I see it!" (Moore thought of his vanished
thousand-dollar bill!) "I've promised Danvers to vote for the Governor.
My friendship for Phil--you know he saved my sister's life----"
"Friendship be damned! What difference does it make when you can get
cash and get it easy? Say!" Moore leaned forward in his earnestness. "If
you've been approached before, let me get my work in." He held up ten
fingers as indicative of what he would pay.
"Ten thousand dollars doesn't make much of a stir in Montana," spoke
Blair, scornfully.
"Fifteen, then!" The senator's eyes narrowed. "Twenty? Come, now! How's
that? Burroughs will pay it. No one else has got that, Charlie."
"If Burroughs is good for twenty thousand, he's good for more."
"How much do you want? Spit it out!" The briber was disgusted. This was
not the Blair whom he had known in Fort Benton days.
"I'm not soliciting nor making a proposition. But if my vote is worth
anything it's worth twenty-five thousand--yes, thirty thousand dollars!"
Blair, for the first time, looked Burroughs' manager in the eye. If he
got that sum he could leave Montana--and not alone!
"Are you mad?" Moore was aghast. Even his own rapacity had not thought
to hold up Burroughs for such a sum. Thirty thousand dollars for
speaking a man's name in joint assembly! Thus he interpreted selling a
vote.
"No, I'm not mad. But that is my price." Blair also rose, unexpectedly
committed to a fixed statement.
"You'll never get it!" roared Moore. "I'll see you damned first! We'll
find others who aren't so high-priced! You have over-reached this time,
Charlie Blair!" And they parted in unfriendly fashion.
The next day the Honorable Mr. Moore notified Mrs. Latimer that all she
had done for Mr. Burroughs would avail nothing if she failed to secure
the vote of Senator Blair.
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