Graft
Two weeks later, the fluffy little member of the Progressive Workers
presented herself one morning at the rooms of the Mayor and requested a
private interview. Probably she was the last woman in Roma one would
have suspected of wanting to take a hand in politics. Yet, here she was.
"Why, Bella, is it you?" asked Gertrude. "What is it? Don't they keep
your street clean? or empty your ash can often enough?"
"Well, I hope I should know enough, Gertrude Van Deusen," retorted the
fluffy lady, "to go to the street-cleaning department about that. No,
I've something really important to tell you."
"Indeed. You may close the door after you, Minnie," she said to the
stenographer. "Now, what is it, Bella?" For the life of her, she could
not help using the same tone she would have used to a pretty child who
had dropped in to complain of her teacher.
"Well, Mary Flynn,--that's my laundress, you know,--has overworked
lately, and to keep up her strength, I'm sorry to say, has indulged in
her habit of toning up for her day's work with more of the 'crathur'
than is good for--, By the way, when are you going to tackle the
saloons, Gertie?" She did not wait for an answer, but rattled on. "And
so, you know, she gets rather talkative. Yesterday she was about
half-seas over and talked every minute, and when I went down stairs to
show her about my new lingerie waists--well, you should have heard
her!"
"Entertaining, no doubt," said Gertrude, wondering why she should have
come here to take up her time with these purely domestic affairs.
"'Faith, an' a woman for mayor is it, we do be havin'. An' a fine muss
she'll be in ef she kapes on, indade and indade! McAlister's foreman was
a tellin' av us last night, he was, that they'll soon be losin' their
job. He says, says he, she's again' an honest man makin' a livin', she
is. Why, there's me own naice's husband, Tim Mathews, ain't he an
ahlderman, rayspicted an' looked up to? Ain't he layin' by a tidy little
fortin' for Mary, just by aldermannin', when he's dead an' gone?' 'How
is that, Mary?' I asked. 'He doesn't get much of a salary as alderman,
does he? How can he support his six children and lay up a fortune?'
'Oh, well, ma'am, it ain't the salary as does it,' returned the woman.
'It's the plooms; ef it wasn't for the plooms, he couldn't afford to
lave his groceryin' an' his little corner saloon. But it's the plooms as
make it worth while, he says.' 'What do you mean by "plums," Mary,' I
asked, 'perquisites?' 'Why, ma'am, them that wants railroads an' saloons
an' other privileges must pay the aldermin for thim. Why,' says she,
'would you believe it--Tim put a thousan' dollars in the bank in me
naice's name the day he voted the franchise for the new street railroad,
or that is--well, Mis,' did you say blue thim waists or not?' and not
another word could I get out of her, although I quizzed her carefully as
long as I dared to. I told Rudolph about it last night and he said,
'Aha!' and whistled; and then he told me to tell nobody else in the
world, but you. So I've come. Rudolph will support you. I always said
so. He seems to think,--at least he said--'this may open up a pretty
deep question for Miss Van Deusen.'"
"As indeed, it does," replied Gertrude, thoughtfully. "Tim Mathews, you
said was the man?"
"Yes," said the fluffy lady, "but Rudolph said if that story was so,
undoubtedly there are others."
"Undoubtedly," replied Gertrude. "Thank you, Bella, for coming to me.
And you'll say nothing of this to anyone else?"
"O, no; and Rudolph thought it better that I should not be known in
this. So you must promise, Gertie, not to let it be known that I told
you. I might lose a very excellent laundress if you did."
Gertrude laughed. "What a very feminine point of view!" she said. "But
you may have rendered the city a very good service, and I heartily
thank you."
When her visitor had gone Gertrude Van Deusen sat alone for some time.
She had caught only at a straw,--but it might indicate which way a very
strong wind had blown or might now be blowing. Was this the reason the
board of aldermen were so opposed to her proposed bill? Evidently, there
was need of a secret and courageous study of the situation. Corruption
was in the very air; she had known it was there for a long time; but
this was the first real evidence of it in definite shape. And yet,--the
story might have been but the idle boast of a half-drunken washerwoman.
What should she do? Send for Judge Bateman?--Bailey?--Allingham? Not
yet. She would look into it herself a little more.
She sent for the city treasurer, who came in somewhat uncertain as to
what this woman could want with him. But he soon found out, for after
perfunctory greetings, the Mayor put the case squarely before him.
"Mr. Hanaford, I would like to look into the matter of our expenses for
the last year or two."
"Why, certainly, I will draw up the statement for you," he answered in
some surprise.
"No. That is in all the reports, I suppose," she said; "I would prefer
to look into the books myself. I can then take the time to study the
situation and compare figures."
"But really, Miss Van Deusen,--your Honor--you do not mean to insinuate
that you do not trust me?" The man's tone was aggrieved, almost
rebellious.
"I insinuate nothing. I distrust nobody," she replied quietly. "But our
charter gives the mayor access to all the books and accounts of the city
at any time. I wish to familiarize myself with the city records,
financial as well as clerical."
"Very well," said Mr. Hanaford. "But this is--may I be excused for
saying it?--unexpected." He was saying to himself, "And what we might
expect from a woman, with no knowledge of business."
"Will you come to my office?" he added respectfully, reassured by the
thought that because she was a woman, she could not grapple with the
problems before her, except by special study in each department.
"It will be better for you to bring all the books to my office," she
answered. "Please have them here tomorrow morning."
Mr. Hanaford had scarcely gone out of hearing when an unfamiliar name
was announced, with the information that the man insisted on seeing the
mayor.
"I have tried to make him tell what he wants," said Mary Snow, "but
apparently he wants nothing but you. He is a gentleman,--that is, he
dresses and speaks like one."
"Send him in and stay near the telephone," said Gertrude. And a moment
later a stranger entered,--a well-dressed, heavily mustached man of
forty-five.
"Your Honor, the Mayor," he began. "I am proud to meet the first woman
who sits in a mayor's chair in America." He waited for her to be seated
and then drew up a chair close to her desk.
"Thank you. Let us hope I may not be the last," answered Gertrude.
"There will never be one that will grace the office more completely,"
returned the stranger gallantly. "Although, you will say that a mayor of
either sex should not be chosen for graciousness alone."
"That is what I was about to say," said Gertrude. "But I am glad you
recognize that firmer qualities are necessary, Mr.--Pardon me, did you
give me your name?"
"Perhaps not," was the suave reply. "I am Orlando Vickery. I represent
the Boulevard Railway Co."
Gertrude mastered her astonishment. This elegant person, then, was the
man who was accused of trying to push his franchise through City Hall,
illegally.
"I called to talk over matters with you," he was saying. "I feel that if
you were to understand our position exactly, what we hope to do for the
public, what we intend to do for the development of the city, I might
persuade you that our cause is a just one--that we are entitled to all
we ask and that, really, we are making a most liberal arrangement for
the city."
"I do not fully understand just what you want to do," admitted the
mayor. "Won't you explain?"
He did so at considerable length, entering into a voluble account of
the proposed railroad and its expected earnings, and detailing at some
length the advantages to that part of Roma which the proposed line would
open up.
"But you know, of course, that the citizens of that section of the city
are opposed to having your railway go through it?" asked the Mayor when
he finally stopped.
"But they are short-sighted, blind," urged the man. "Now look here,"
lowering his voice. "We want you with us. I am prepared to offer you a
bonus of $10,000 the day you sign our franchise."
"Mr. Vickery!" cried Gertrude.
"Fifteen, then--twenty thousand," he urged, oblivious to the look on her
face. "And, yes, I can make you a shareholder in the system,--and our
Railway will be a winner, as I have shown you--"
"Mr. Vickery!" the Mayor rose to her full height. "We may as well
terminate this interview. I could not think of accepting anything of the
sort. Understand, once for all, that I am not to be bought."
"Tut, tut, my dear lady," answered Vickery suavely, "I might have known
better than to have presented my proposition to any woman--but you are
an advanced woman, one who knows the ways of the world. I had presumed
you knew something of the ways of politics."
"Mr. Vickery," said she, softening under a new idea; "tell me, is it
customary for officials with whom you have had similar dealings
to,--well, to be made shareholders in the concern?--And these little
arrangements of which you speak.--should I be doing an unprecedented
thing if I were to accede to your proposition?"
"Now you're talking like a sensible woman--a woman who has some idea of
running municipal affairs in a business way," the man replied. "While I
do not wish to violate any confidences,--I may say you will not find
yourself the first, nor the second official who is 'in it,' with the
Boulevard Railway scheme."
"Well, Mr. Vickery, I want to think this over a little," said Gertrude.
"I cannot decide today."
"Take all the time you want," replied the promoter, cheerfully. "Only,
of course, the sooner we get this through, the better it will be for us
all."
"I see," answered the Mayor. "And now, good morning, Mr. Vickery."
When she was alone again she sat back in her chair and stared hard at
her desk for a good five minutes.
"I am beginning to see light," said she at last.
Meanwhile, Orlando Vickery was getting into his automobile and whirling
away down the street, chuckling to himself.
"Reformers are just like other folks," he told himself. "Catch 'em just
as easy as a bird--only put a little salt on their tails, in the shape
of good paying stocks, or a sufficient number of good hard, gold
plunks."