As Jane drove into the grounds of the house on the hilltop she saw her
father and David Hull in an obviously intimate and agitated
conversation on the front veranda. She made all haste to join them;
nor was she deterred by the reception she got--the reception given to
the unwelcome interrupter. Said she:
"You are talking about those indictments, aren't you? Everyone else
is. There's a group on every corner down town, and people are calling
their views to each other from windows across the streets."
Davy glanced triumphantly at her father. "I told you so," said he.
Old Hastings was rubbing his hand over his large, bony, wizened face in
the manner that indicates extreme perplexity.
Davy turned to Jane. "I've been trying to show your father what a
stupid, dangerous thing Dick Kelly has done. I want him to help me
undo it. It MUST be undone or Victor Dorn will sweep the town on
election day."
Jane's heart was beating wildly. She continued to say carelessly, "You
think so?"
"Davy's got a bad attack of big red eye to-day," said her father.
"It's a habit young men have."
"I'm right, Mr. Hastings," cried Hull. "And, furthermore, you know I'm
right, Jane; you saw that riot the other night. Joe Wetherbe told me
so. You said that it was an absolutely unprovoked assault of the gangs
of Kelly and House. Everyone in town knows it was. The middle and the
upper class people are pretending to believe what the papers
printed--what they'd like to believe. But they KNOW better. The
working people are apparently silent. They usually are apparently
silent. But they know the truth--they are talking it among themselves.
And these indictments will make Victor Dorn a hero."
"What of it? What of it?" said Hastings impatiently. "The working
people don't count."
"Not as long as we can keep them divided," retorted Davy. "But if they
unite----"
And he went on to explain what he had in mind. He gave them an
analysis of Remsen City. About fifty thousand inhabitants, of whom
about ten thousand were voters. These voters were divided into three
classes--upper class, with not more than three or four hundred votes,
and therefore politically of no importance AT THE POLLS, though
overwhelmingly the most influential in any other way; the middle class,
the big and little merchants, the lawyers and doctors, the agents and
firemen and so on, mustering in all about two thousand votes; finally,
the working class with no less than eight thousand votes out of a total
of ten thousand.
"By bribery and cajolery and browbeating and appeal to religious
prejudice and to fear of losing jobs--by all sorts of chicane," said
Davy, "about seven of these eight thousand votes are kept divided
between the Republican or Kelly party and the Democratic or House
party. The other ten or twelve hundred belong to Victor Dorn's League.
Now, the seven thousand workingmen voters who follow Kelly and House
like Victor Dorn, like his ideas, are with him at heart. But they are
afraid of him. They don't trust each other. Workingmen despise the
workingman as an ignorant fool."
"So he is," said Hastings.
"So he is," agreed Davy. "But Victor Dorn has about got the workingmen
in this town persuaded that they'd fare better with Dorn and the League
as their leaders than with Kelly and House as their leaders. And if
Kelly goes on to persecute Victor Dorn, the workingmen will be
frightened for their rights to free speech and free assembly. And
they'll unite. I appeal to you, Jane--isn't that common sense?"
"I don't know anything about politics," said Jane, looking bored. "You
must go in and lie down before dinner, father. You look tired."
Hastings got ready to rise.
"Just a minute, Mr. Hastings," pleaded Hull. "This must be settled
now--at once. I must be in a position not only to denounce this thing,
but also to stop it. Not to-morrow, but to-day ... so that the morning
papers will have the news."
Jane's thoughts were flying--but in circles. Everybody habitually
judges everybody else as both more and less acute than he really is.
Jane had great respect for Davy as a man of college education. But
because he had no sense of humor and because he abounded in lengthy
platitudes she had thought poorly indeed of his abilities. She had
been realizing her mistake in these last few minutes. The man who had
made that analysis of politics--an analysis which suddenly enlighted
her as to what political power meant and how it was wielded everywhere
on earth as well as in Remsen City--the man was no mere dreamer and
theorist. He had seen the point no less clearly than had Victor Dorn.
But what concerned her, what set her to fluttering, was that he was
about to checkmate Victor Dorn. What should she say and do to help
Victor?
She must get her father away. She took him gently by the arm, kissed
the top of his head. "Come on, father," she cried. "I'll let Davy work
his excitement off on me. You must take care of your health."
But Hastings resisted. "Wait a minute, Jenny," said he. "I must
think."
"You can think lying down," insisted his daughter Davy was about to
interpose again, but she frowned him into silence.
"There's something in what Davy says," persisted her father. "If that
there Victor Dorn should carry the election, there'd be no living in
the same town with him. It'd put him away up out of reach."
Jane abruptly released her father's arm. She had not thought of
that--of how much more difficult Victor would be if he won now. She
wanted him to win ultimately--yes, she was sure she did. But--now?
Wouldn't that put him beyond her reach--beyond need of her?
She said: "Please come, father!" But it was perfunctory loyalty to
Victor. Her father settled back; Davy Hull began afresh, pressing home
his point, making his contention so clear that even Martin Hastings'
prejudice could not blind him to the truth. And Jane sat on the arm of
a big veranda chair and listened and made no further effort to
interfere.
"I don't agree with you, Hull," said the old man at last. "Victor
Dorn's run up agin the law at last, and he ought to get the
consequences good and hard. But----"
"Mr. Hastings," interrupted Davy eagerly--too fond of talking to
realize that the old man was agreeing with him, "Your daughter saw----"
"Fiddle-fiddle," cried the old man. "Don't bring sentimental women
into this, Davy. As I was saying, Victor ought to be punished for the
way he's been stirring up idle, lazy, ignorant people against the men
that runs the community and gives 'em jobs and food for their children.
But maybe it ain't wise to give him his deserts--just now. Anyhow,
while you've been talking away like a sewing machine I've been
thinking. I don't see as how it can do any serious HARM to stop them
there indictments."
"That's it, Mr. Hastings," cried Hull. "Even if I do exaggerate, as
you seem to think, still where's the harm in doing it?"
"It looks as if the respectable people were afraid of the lower
classes," said Hastings doubtfully. "And that's always bad."
"But it won't look that way," replied Davy, "if my plan is followed."
"And what might be your plan?" inquired Hastings.
"I'm to be the reform candidate for Mayor. Your son-in-law, Hugo, is
to be the reform candidate for judge. The way to handle this is for me
to come out in a strong statement denouncing the indictments, and the
injunction against the League and the New Day, too. And I'll announce
that Hugo Galland is trying to join in the fight against them and that
he is indignant and as determined as I am. Then early to-morrow
morning we can go before Judge Lansing and can present arguments, and
he will denounce the other side for misleading him as to the facts, and
will quash the indictments and vacate the injunctions."
Hastings nodded reflectively. "Pretty good," said he with a sly grin.
"And Davy Hull and my son-in-law will be popular heroes."
Davy reddened. "Of course. I want to get all the advantage I can for
our party," said he. "I don't represent myself. I represent the
party."
Martin grinned more broadly. He who had been representing "honest
taxpayers" and "innocent owners" of corrupt stock and bonds all his
life understood perfectly. "It's hardly human to be as unselfish as
you and I are, Davy," said he. "Well, I'll go in and do a little
telephoning. You go ahead and draw up your statement and get it to the
papers--and see Hugo." He rose, stood leaning on his cane, all bent
and shrivelled and dry. "I reckon Judge Lansing'll be expecting you
to-morrow morning." He turned to enter the house, halted, crooked his
head round for a piercing look at young Hull. "Don't go talking round
among your friends about what you're going to do," said he sharply.
"Don't let NOBODY know until it's done."
"Certainly, sir," said Davy.
"I could see you hurrying down to that there University Club to sit
there and tell it all to those smarties that are always blowing about
what they're going to do. You'll be right smart of a man some day,
Davy, if you'll learn to keep your mouth shut."
Davy looked abashed. He did not know which of his many indiscretions
of self-glorifying talkativeness Mr. Hastings had immediately in mind.
But he could recall several, any one of which was justification for the
rather savage rebuke--the more humiliating that Jane was listening. He
glanced covertly at her.
Perhaps she had not heard; she was gazing into the distance with a
strange expression upon her beautiful face, an expression that fastened
his attention, absorbed though he was in his project for his own
ambitions. As her father disappeared, he said:
"What are you thinking about, Jane?"