THE EXPOSURE
Long after Thor had gone, long after the day had dwindled into twilight
and the twilight had shaded into dusk, Thomas Spears, his secretary, sat
and pondered. After Thor and Selwyn had left the office for luncheon he
had gone to the dictagraph to see whether there was anything for him to
take. He found the record, saw it had been used, removed it to his
machine and got ready to transmit. He was surprised to find that it was
Selwyn's voice that came to him, then Thor's, and again Selwyn's. He
knew then that it was not intended for dictation, that there was some
mistake and yet he held it until he had gotten the whole of the mighty
conspiracy. Pale and greatly agitated he remained motionless for a long
time. Then he returned to Thor's office, placed a new record in the
machine and closed it.
Spears came from sturdy New England stock and was at heart a patriot. He
had come to New York largely by accident of circumstances.
Spears had a friend named Harry Tracy, with whom he had grown up in the
little Connecticut village they called home, and who was distantly
related to Thor, whose forebears also came from that vicinity. They had
gone to the same commercial school, and were trained particularly in
stenography and typing. Tracy sought and obtained a place in Thor's
office. He was attentive to his duties, very accurate, and because of
his kinship and trustworthiness, Thor made him his confidential
secretary. The work became so heavy that Tracy got permission to employ
an assistant. He had Spears in mind for the place, and, after
conferring with Thor, offered it to him.
Thor consented largely because he preferred some one who had not lived
in New York, and was in no way entangled with the life and sentiment of
the city. Being from New England himself, he trusted the people of that
section as he did no others.
So Thomas Spears was offered the place and gladly accepted it. He had
not been there long before he found himself doing all the stenographic
work and typing.
Spears was a man of few words. He did his work promptly and well. Thor
had him closely shadowed for a long while, and the report came that he
had no bad habits and but few companions and those of the best. But Thor
could get no confidential report upon the workings of his mind. He did
not know that his conscience sickened at what he learned through the
correspondence and from his fellow clerks. He did not know that his
every heart beat was for the unfortunates that came within the reach of
Thor's avarice, and were left the merest derelicts upon the financial
seas.
All the clerks were gone, the lights were out and Spears sat by the
window looking out over the great modern Babylon, still fighting with
his conscience. His sense of loyalty to the man who gave him his
livelihood rebelled at the thought of treachery. It was not unlike
accepting food and shelter and murdering your benefactor, for Spears
well knew that in the present state of the public mind if once the truth
were known, it would mean death to such as Thor. For with a fatuous
ignorance of public feeling the interests had gone blindly on, conceding
nothing, stifling competition and absorbing the wealth and energies of
the people.
Spears knew that the whole social and industrial fabric of the nation
was at high tension, and that it needed but a spark to explode. He held
within his hand that spark. Should he plunge the country, his country,
into a bloody internecine war, or should he let the Selwyns and the
Thors trample the hopes, the fortunes and the lives of the people under
foot for still another season. If he held his peace it did but postpone
the conflict.
The thought flashed through his mind of the bigness of the sum any one
of the several great dailies would give to have the story. And then
there followed a sense of shame that he could think of such a thing.
He felt that he was God's instrument for good and that he should act
accordingly. He was aroused now, he would no longer parley with his
conscience. What was best to do? That was the only question left to
debate.
He looked at an illuminated clock upon a large white shaft that lifted
its marble shoulders towards the stars. It was nine o'clock. He turned
on the lights, ran over the telephone book until he reached the name of
what he considered the most important daily. He said: "Mr. John Thor's
office desires to speak with the Managing Editor." This at once gave him
the connection he desired.
"This is Mr. John Thor's secretary, and I would like to see you
immediately upon a matter of enormous public importance. May I come to
your office at once?"
There was something in the voice that startled the newspaper man, and he
wondered what Thor's office could possibly want with him concerning any
matter, public or private. However, he readily consented to an interview
and waited with some impatience for the quarter of an hour to go by that
was necessary to cover the distance. He gave orders to have Spears
brought in as soon as he arrived.
When Spears came he told the story with hesitation and embarrassment.
The Managing Editor thought at first that he was in the presence of a
lunatic, but after a few questions he began to believe. He had a
dictagraph in his office and asked for the record. He was visibly
agitated when the full import of the news became known to him. Spears
insisted that the story be given to all the city papers and to the
Associated Press, which the Managing Editor promised to do.
When the story was read the next morning by America's millions, it was
clear to every far-sighted person that a crisis had come and that
revolution was imminent. Men at once divided themselves into groups.
Now, as it has ever been, the very poor largely went with the rich and
powerful. The reason for this may be partly from fear and partly from
habit. They had seen the struggle going on for centuries and with but
one result.
A mass meeting was called to take place the day following at New York's
largest public hall. The call was not inflammatory, but asked "all good
citizens to lend their counsel and influence to the rectification of
those abuses that had crept into the Government," and it was signed by
many of the best known men in the Nation.
The hall was packed to its limits an hour before the time named. A
distinguished college president from a nearby town was given the chair,
and in a few words he voiced the indignation and the humiliation which
they all felt. Then one speaker after another bitterly denounced the
administration, and advocated the overthrow of the Government. One, more
intemperate than the rest, urged an immediate attack on Thor and all
his kind. This was met by a roar of approval.
Philip had come early and was seated well in front. In the pandemonium
that now prevailed no speaker could be heard. Finally Philip fought his
way to the stage, gave his name to the chairman, and asked to be heard.
When the white-haired college president arose there was a measure of
quiet, and when he mentioned Philip's name and they saw his splendid,
homely face there was a curious hush. He waited for nearly a minute
after perfect quiet prevailed, and then, in a voice like a deep-toned
bell, he spoke with such fervor and eloquence that one who was present
said afterwards that he knew the hour and the man had come. Philip
explained that hasty and ill-considered action had ruined other causes
as just as theirs, and advised moderation. He suggested that a committee
be named by the chairman to draw up a plan of procedure, to be
presented at another meeting to be held the following night. This was
agreed to, and the chairman received tremendous applause when he named
Philip first.
This meeting had been called so quickly, and the names attached to the
call were so favorably known, that the country at large seemed ready to
wait upon its conclusions.
It was apparent from the size and earnestness of the second gathering
that the interest was growing rather than abating.
Philip read the plan which his committee had formulated, and then
explained more at length their reasons for offering it. Briefly, it
advised no resort to violence, but urged immediate organization and
cooperation with citizens throughout the United States who were in
sympathy with the movement. He told them that the conscience of the
people was now aroused, and that there would be no halting until the
Government was again within their hands to be administered for the good
of the many instead of for the good of a rapacious few.
The resolutions were sustained, and once more Philip was placed at the
head of a committee to perfect not only a state, but a national
organization as well. Calls for funds to cover preliminary expenses
brought immediate and generous response, and the contest was on.