THE RIVAL CANDIDATE.
Fred Carroll’s joy over the success of the _Bulletin’s_ police exposé
was marred by the thought that the girl he loved was likely to suffer
for the part she had played in it.
If it had not been for Melba, the _Bulletin_ could not have published
the snapshots which had created such a great stir in Oldham. No doubt
Melba’s uncle and cousin, realizing this fact, would do their utmost to
make the girl regret the devoted service which she had rendered their
enemy.
This thought worried Carroll exceedingly. So anxious was he concerning
her that, at length, he decided to send a messenger to her with a note,
urging her to let him know immediately how things were going with her at
home.
He would have called up the Gale residence on the telephone, but Melba
had cautioned him that such a proceeding was dangerous, as the telephone
at the house was a double one, and Martha, her uncle’s shrewish old
housekeeper, was in the habit of listening at the extension instrument
upstairs whenever she, Melba, spoke over the wire downstairs. Such
conversations Martha always reported in detail to her master when he
came home.
Carroll thought that it would be safe to risk sending a note to the
house. He intended to make Miggsy its bearer, and that youngster had on
several occasions demonstrated his ability to deliver notes to Miss Gale
without running foul of the housekeeper’s sharp old eyes.
However, the missive was never sent; for, just as he was writing it,
Melba entered the _Bulletin’s_ editorial room, and, unannounced, stepped
up to his desk.
“Congratulations, Fred!” she exclaimed brightly. “Your editorial and Mr.
Hawley’s snapshots have certainly made a great hit. They’re the talk of
the town. The word _Bulletin_ was on the lips of every second person I
passed on my way here.”
Carroll was greatly relieved to see that she was smiling, and apparently
quite at ease. Evidently she had not as yet been visited with her
uncle’s and cousin’s displeasure; or, if she had, at least she didn’t
seem to be any the worse for it.
“Yes,” he responded, as he dragged a chair toward her, “I guess we’ve
stirred the town up some; and, what’s more important, we’re reaping the
harvest. Our circulation department has been doing a land-office
business; our entire edition is completely sold out, and I’ve got a
bunch of new subscriptions. Several ads have come in to-day, too.
They’re only small ones, but they’re ready money. The outlook begins to
look encouraging. And I owe it all to you, little girl. If it hadn’t
been for your pluck and cleverness in getting those films away from----”
“Hush!” she interrupted laughingly, putting her gloved hand over his
mouth. “If you’re going to talk like that, Fred, I’m going right out. I
thought I’d drop in to congratulate you, and tell you a piece of
news--two pieces of news, in fact--but I won’t stay if you say another
word in that strain.”
“Well, it’s the truth,” he insisted, looking at her fondly. “Tell me how
your uncle and cousin have been treating you since they found out how
you beat them at their own game. I’ve been so anxious about you that I
was just writing you a note.”
“They didn’t say a word to me about it--not even a gentle reproach from
either of them,” Melba answered.
“That’s queer!” Carroll exclaimed in astonishment. “Can it be possible
that they don’t know that it was you who got the films away from their
photo-engraving room? If so, isn’t it highly imprudent of you to come
here now, Melba? If they should learn about this visit, they might
possibly put two and two together, you know.”
“Oh, they must know of the trick I played them,” the girl declared.
“They couldn’t help finding it out. The man up in their photo-engraving
room knew me, and he must have told them what happened.”
“And yet you say they didn’t raise a fuss?” Carroll’s tone was almost
incredulous.
“Not the slightest, Fred. Isn’t it odd? On the contrary, my uncle’s
manner to me last night and this morning was unusually kind and gentle;
and as for my cousin--well, that’s one of the startling items of news
that I’ve come to tell you.” Melba laughed softly, “Would it be a shock
to you, Freddie, to learn that you have a rival?”
“A rival?” he repeated questioningly.
“Yes; a rival in love. My cousin asked me to marry him last night,
Fred.”
“What!” Carroll was so astonished that he fairly shouted the
monosyllable.
“It’s a fact, Fred,” said Melba, smiling at his vehemence; “and he
appeared to be very much in earnest, too.”
“But I thought you told me the other day that he hated you?” Carroll
reminded her.
“He has always given me that impression. He and I never got along well
together, even as children. He has never taken any pains to conceal his
dislike for me. Since his return from New York, his attitude toward me
has been particularly mean--until last night.”
Carroll scowled. “Well, if that’s the case, what on earth made him
propose to you?”
“That’s what I’m anxious to know,” Melba answered. “The more I think of
the incident, Fred, the more it puzzles me. I was in hopes you might be
able to suggest a reason for his sudden change. Ah! Here’s some one who
may be able to help us.”
She pointed, as she spoke, toward Hawley, who came in at that moment to
tell Carroll of his experience at the city hall.
“We want your advice, Mr. Hawley,” the girl said, as the Camera Chap
stepped up. “My cousin has asked me to marry him. Can you imagine a
reason?”
“I can imagine a hundred reasons,” the Camera Chap replied gallantly.
“If you’ll glance in a mirror, Miss Gale, you’ll discover a lot of them
for yourself. With all his faults, your cousin is human, you know--and
he isn’t blind.”
“Thank you!” said Melba, laughing and blushing. “But I am really
serious, Mr. Hawley. I am quite sure that my cousin isn’t in love with
me--in fact, as I was just saying to Fred, he cordially dislikes me.
Besides, I happen to know that he’s in love with another girl--an
actress in New York. He’s got her picture tacked on the wall in his
room, and he writes to her every day. Now, what can be his object in
proposing to me?”
“Oh, I guess that’s easily explained,” Hawley answered. “No doubt spite
is his motive. He wants to win you away from Fred.”
Carroll nodded. “Yes; that’s it, of course. Wasn’t our engagement
mentioned during the conversation, girlie?”
“Not a word about it,” Melba replied. “He didn’t even mention your name,
Fred. When I told him that it was quite out of the question for me to
marry him, he merely said that he was sorry I felt that way about it,
but that he was going to keep on trying until he persuaded me to change
my mind.”
Carroll was not at all pleased to hear this. “I suppose that means that
he’ll keep annoying you by forcing his attentions upon you,” he said
grimly.
“I suppose so,” said Melba. “And, being under the same roof with him,
that’s going to be decidedly unpleasant. I almost think I’d prefer to
have him treat me in his usual disagreeable manner. Probably my uncle,
too, will pester me with arguments why I should marry his son. I can see
myself having a pleasant time.”
“If only I could afford to marry you now, and take you away from such
distasteful surroundings!” Carroll said wistfully. “It’s the dickens to
be poor!”
Melba laughed heartily. “Never mind, Fred,” she said soothingly. “Things
will be coming our way soon. Judging from the hit your paper has made,
you’re not going to be poor much longer, is he, Mr. Hawley?”
“I hope not,” the Camera Chap replied. “By the way, Fred, I’ve got a
proposition to put up to you. It’s from your friend Mayor Henkle. If
you’re tired of being poor, maybe you’ll be glad to accept the offer
that he makes.”
With a twinkle in his eye, he proceeded to narrate his experience at the
city hall, and Carroll received the news with great joy.
“So he wants to call off the fight, does he?” he chuckled. “I’m mighty
glad to hear that, Frank. This is indeed good tidings.”
“Why, Fred!” cried Melba in a shocked tone. “Surely you’re not thinking
of accepting that offer? I wouldn’t believe----”
“Accepting it! I should say not!” was the indignant reply. “What do you
take me for? All the money in the world couldn’t make the _Bulletin_
stop fighting Henkle and his gang. But I’m mighty glad to hear the news
which Frank has brought. It shows that we’ve got that grafter worried.
He must be dead scared, or he wouldn’t have made these overtures of
peace.”
The Camera Chap nodded. “Yes, it certainly looks as if he has begun to
see ‘the writing on the wall.’ He realizes that the power of the
_Bulletin_ is growing, and that it means the finish of him and his gang
unless he can swing us over to his side.”
“By the way, Fred,” he added, with a chuckle. “I’ve launched your boom
as candidate for the mayoralty of Oldham.”
“Who--what?” exclaimed Carroll in great astonishment.
“Yes; I told Henkle that you intend to be his successor in the city
hall.”
The proprietor of the _Bulletin_ stared at him dazedly.
“Well, I’ll be jiggered!” he ejaculated. “What on earth put such an idea
into your head?”
“I don’t know,” the Camera Chap replied, with a grin. “It came to me
like a flash. I wanted to get his goat, and it seemed to me that would
be a good way of going about it. I wasn’t wrong, either. He certainly
appeared somewhat jarred by my announcement.”
“Oh, I see,” said Carroll. “It was merely a joke?”
“Not at all,” the Camera Chap rejoined. “Now that I’ve launched your
boom, Fred, you’ve got to run. Just think what a fine thing it would be
for the _Bulletin_ if its proprietor were the mayor of the town!”
“Nonsense!” Carroll protested. “Don’t talk like an idiot, Frank. It’s
quite out of the question.”
It was at this point that Melba suddenly recollected something. “Oh,
that reminds me, Fred, of the other piece of news I have to tell you!”
she exclaimed. “You know, I said I had two pieces of news to
communicate. My uncle announced at the supper table last night that he
expects to be the next mayor of Oldham.”
“Your uncle!” cried Hawley and Carroll in a chorus of astonishment.
“Yes; he said that Mayor Henkle promised to make him his successor. Mr.
Henkle has decided not to be a candidate for reëlection, and he thinks
that Uncle Delancey’s faithful services to the party entitle him to the
place. My uncle is tickled pink. He has already made plans of what he is
going to do when he gets into the city hall.”
The Camera Chap looked at Carroll, and chuckled. There was a flash in
the latter’s eyes, and his lower jaw was thrust forward aggressively.
“Frank,” he cried, “you’re a true prophet! I am going to announce my
candidacy in the next issue of the _Bulletin_, in the largest type we’ve
got in the shop.”