THE PRICE OF A MAN
When, half an hour before, Katherine walked with bowed head out of
Harrison Blake's office, Blake gazed fixedly after her for a moment,
and his face, now that he was private, deepened its sickly, ashen hue.
Then he strode feverishly up and down the room, lips twitching
nervously, hands clinching and unclinching. Then he unlocked a cabinet
against the wall, poured out a drink from a squat, black bottle,
gulped it down, and returned the bottle, forgetting to close the
cabinet. After which he dropped into his chair, gripped his face in
his two hands, and sat at his desk breathing deeply, but otherwise
without motion.
Presently his door opened.
"Mr. Brown is here to see you," announced a voice.
He slowly raised his head, and stared an instant at his stenographer
in dumfounded silence.
"Mr. Brown!" he repeated.
"Yes," said the young woman.
He continued to stare at her in sickly stupefaction.
"Shall I tell him you'll see him later?"
"Show him in," said Blake. "But, no--wait till I ring."
He passed his hand across his moist and pallid face, paced his room
again several times, then touched a button and stood stiffly erect
beside his desk. The next moment the door closed behind a short,
rather chubby man with an egg-shell dome and a circlet of grayish
hair. He had eyes that twinkled with good fellowship and a cheery,
fatherly manner.
"Well, well, Mr. Blake; mighty glad to see you!" he exclaimed as he
crossed the room.
Blake, still pale, but now with tense composure, took the hand of his
visitor.
"This is a surprise, Mr. Brown," said he. "How do you happen to be in
Westville?"
Mr. Brown disposed himself comfortably in the chair that Katherine had
so lately occupied.
"To-morrow's the trial of that Doctor West, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Well, I thought I'd better be on the ground to see how it came out."
Blake did not respond at once; but, lips very tight together, sat
gazing at the ruddy face of his visitor.
"Everything's going all right, isn't it?" asked Mr. Brown in his
cheery voice.
"About the trial, you mean?" Blake asked with an effort.
"Of course. The letter I had from you yesterday assured me conviction
was certain. Things still stand the same way, I suppose?"
Blake's whole body was taut. His dark eyes were fixed upon Mr. Brown.
"They do not," he said quietly.
"Not stand the same way?" cried Mr. Brown, half rising from his chair.
"Why not?"
"I am afraid," replied Blake with his strained quiet, "that the
prosecution will not make out a case."
"Not make out a case?"
"To-morrow Doctor West is going to be cleared."
"Cleared? Cleared?" Mr. Brown stared. "Now what the devil--see here,
Blake, how's that going to happen?"
Blake's tense figure had leaned forward.
"It's going to happen, Mr. Brown," he burst out, with a flashing of
his dark eyes, "because I'm tired of doing your dirty work, and the
dirty work of the National Electric & Water Company!"
"You mean you're going to see he's cleared?"
"I mean I'm going to see he's cleared!"
"What--you?" ejaculated Mr. Brown, still staring. "Why, only in your
letter yesterday you were all for the plan! What's come over you?"
"If you'd gone through what I've just gone through----" Blake abruptly
checked his passionate reference to his scene with Katherine. "I say
enough when I say that I'm going to see that Doctor West is cleared.
There you have it."
No further word was spoken for a moment. The two men, leaning toward
each other, gazed straight into one another's eyes. Blake's powerful,
handsome face was blazing and defiant. The fatherly kindness had
disappeared from the other, and it was keen and hard.
"So," said Mr. Brown, cuttingly, and with an infinity of contempt, "it
appears that Mr. Harrison Blake is the owner of a white liver."
"You know that's a lie!" Blake fiercely retorted. "You know I've got
as much courage as you and your infernal company put together!"
"Oh, you have, have you? From the way you're turning tail----"
"To turn tail upon a dirty job is no cowardice!"
"But there have been plenty of dirty jobs you haven't run from. You've
put through many a one in the last two or three years on the quiet."
"But never one like this."
"You knew exactly what the job was when you made the bargain with us."
"Yes. And my stomach rose against it even then."
"Then why the devil did you tie up with us?"
"Because your big promises dazzled me! Because you took me up on a
high mountain and showed me the kingdoms of the earth!"
"Well, you then thought the kingdoms were pretty good looking
property."
"Good enough to make me forget the sort of thing I was doing. Good
enough to blind me as to how things might come out. But I see now! And
I'm through with it all!"
The chubby little man's eyes were on fire. But he was too experienced
in his trade to allow much liberty to anger.
"And that's final--that's where you stand?" he asked with comparative
calm.
"That's where I stand!" cried Blake. "I may have got started crooked,
but I'm through with this kind of business now! I'm going back to
clean ways! And you, Mr. Brown, you might as well say good-by!"
But Mr. Brown was an old campaigner. He never abandoned a battle
merely because it apparently seemed lost. He now leaned back in his
chair, slowly crossed his short legs, and thoughtfully regarded
Blake's excited features. His own countenance had changed its aspect;
it had shed its recent hardness, and had not resumed its original
cheeriness. It was eminently a reasonable face.
"Come, let's talk this whole matter over in a calm manner," he began
in a rather soothing tone. "Neither of us wants to be too hasty. There
are a few points I'd like to call your attention to, if you'll let
me."
"Go ahead with your points," said Blake. "But they won't change my
decision."
"First, let's talk about the company," Mr. Brown went on in his mild,
persuasive manner. "Frankly, you've put the company in a hole.
Believing that you would keep your end of the bargain, the company has
invested a lot of money and started a lot of projects. We bought up
practically all the stock of the Westville street car lines, when that
municipal ownership talk drove the price so low, because we expected
to get a new franchise through your smashing this municipal ownership
fallacy. We have counted on big things from the water-works when you
got hold of it for us. And we have plans on foot in several other
cities of the state, and we've been counting on the failure of
municipal ownership in Westville to have a big influence on those
cities and to help us in getting what we want. In one way and another
this deal here means an awful lot to the company. Your failing us at
the last moment means to the company----"
"I understand all that," interrupted Blake.
"Here's a point for you to consider then: Since the company has banked
so much upon your promise, since it will lose so heavily if you
repudiate your word, are you not bound in honour to stand by your
agreement?"
Blake opened his lips, but Mr. Brown raised a hand.
"Don't answer now. I just leave that for you to think upon. So much
for the company. Now for yourself. We promised you if you carried this
deal through--and you know how able we are to keep our promise!--we
promised you Grayson's seat in the Senate. And after that, with your
ability and our support, who knows where you'd stop?" Mr. Brown's
voice became yet more soft and persuasive. "Isn't that a lot to throw
overboard because of a scruple?"
"I can win all that, or part of it, by being loyal to the people,"
Blake replied doggedly, but in a rather unsteady tone.
"Come, come, Mr. Blake," said Brown reprovingly, "you know you're not
talking sense. You know that the only quick and sure way of getting
the big offices is by the help of the corporations. So you realize
what you're losing."
Blake's face had become drawn and pale. He closed his eyes, as though
to shut out the visions of the kingdoms Mr. Brown had conjured up.
"I'm ready to lose it!" he cried.
"All right, then," Mr. Brown went mildly on. "So much for what we
lose, and what you lose. Now for the next point, the action you intend
to take regarding Doctor West. Do you mind telling me just how you
propose to undo what you have done so far?"
"I haven't thought it out yet. But I can do it."
"Of course," pursued Mr. Brown blandly, "you propose to do it so that
you will appear in no way to be involved?"
Blake was thinking of Katherine's accusation. "Of course."
"Just suppose you think about that point for a minute or two."
There was a brief silence. When Mr. Brown next spoke he spoke very
slowly and accompanied each word with a gentle tap of his forefinger
on the desk.
"Can you think of a single way to clear Doctor West without
incriminating yourself?"
Blake gave a start.
"What's that?"
"Can you get Doctor West out of his trouble without showing who got
him into his trouble? Just think that over."
During the moment of silence Blake grew yet more pale.
"I'll kill the case somehow!" he breathed.
"But the case looks very strong against Doctor West. Everybody
believes him guilty. Do you think you can suddenly, within twenty-four
hours, reverse the whole situation, and not run some risk of having
suspicion shift around to you?"
Blake's eyes fell to his desk, and he sat staring whitely at it.
"And there's still another matter," pursued the gentle voice of Mr.
Brown, now grown apologetic. "I wouldn't think of mentioning it, but I
want you to have every consideration before you. I believe I never
told you that the National Electric & Water Company own the majority
stock of the Acme Filter Company."
"No, I didn't know that."
"It was because of that mutual relationship that I was able to help
out your little plan by getting Marcy to do what he did. Now if some
of our directors should feel sore at the way you've thrown us down,
they might take it into their minds to make things unpleasant for
you."
"Unpleasant? How?"
Mr. Brown's fatherly smile had now come back. It was full of concern
for Blake.
"Well, I'd hate, for instance, to see them use their pressure to
drive Mr. Marcy to make a statement."
"Mr. Marcy? A statement?"
"Because," continued Mr. Brown in his tone of fatherly concern, "after
Mr. Marcy had stated what he knows about this case, I'm afraid there
wouldn't be much chance for you to win any high places by being loyal
to the people."
For a moment after this velvet threat Blake held upon Mr. Brown an
open-lipped, ashen face. Then, without a word, he leaned his elbows
upon his desk and buried his face in his hands. For a long space there
was silence in the room. Mr. Brown's eyes, kind no longer, but keenest
of the keen, watched the form before him, timing the right second to
strike again.
At length he recrossed his legs.
"Of course it's up to you to decide, and what you say goes," he went
on in his amiable voice. "But speaking impartially, and as a friend,
it strikes me that you've gone too far in this matter to draw back. It
strikes me that the best and only thing is to go straight ahead."
Blake's head remained bowed in his hands, and he did not speak.
"And, of course," pursued Mr. Brown, "if you should decide in favour
of the original agreement, our promise still stands good--Senate and
all."
Mr. Brown said no more, but sat watching his man. Again there was a
long silence. Then Blake raised his face--and a changed face it was
indeed from that which had fallen into his hands. It bore the marks of
a mighty struggle, but it was hard and resolute--the face of a man who
has cast all hesitancy behind.
"The agreement still stands," he said.
"Then you're ready to go ahead?"
"To the very end," said Blake.
Mr. Brown nodded. "I was sure you'd decide that way," said he.
"I want to thank you for what you've said to bring me around," Blake
continued in his new incisive tone. "But it is only fair to tell you
that this was only a spell--not the first one, in fact--and that I
would have come to my senses anyhow."
"Of course, of course." It was not the policy of Mr. Brown, once the
victory was won, to discuss to whom the victory belonged.
Blake's eyes were keen and penetrating.
"And you say that the things I said a little while back will not
affect your attitude toward me in the future?"
"Those things? Why, they've already passed out of my other ear! Oh,
it's no new experience," he went on with his comforting air of
good-fellowship, "for me to run into one of our political friends when
he's sick with a bad case of conscience. They all have it now and
then, and they all pull out of it. No, don't you worry about the
future. You're O. K. with us."
"Thank you."
"And now, since everything is so pleasantly cleared up," continued Mr.
Brown, "let's go back to my first question. I suppose everything looks
all right for the trial to-morrow?"
Blake hesitated a moment, then told of Katherine's discovery. "But
it's no more than a surmise," he ended.
"Has she guessed any other of the parties implicated?" Mr. Brown asked
anxiously.
"I'm certain she has not."
"Is she likely to raise a row to-morrow?"
"I hardly see how she can."
"All the same, we'd better do something to quiet her," returned Mr.
Brown meaningly.
Blake flashed a quick look at the other.
"See here--I'll not have her touched!"
Mr. Brown's scanty eyebrows lifted.
"Hello! You seem very tender about her!"
Blake looked at him sternly a moment. Then he said stiffly: "I once
asked Miss West to marry me."
"Eh--you don't say!" exclaimed the other, amazed. "That is certainly a
queer situation for you!" He rubbed his naked dome. "And you still
feel----"
"What I feel is my own affair!" Blake cut in sharply.
"Of course, of course!" agreed Mr. Brown quickly. "I beg your pardon!"
Blake ignored the apology.
"It might be well for you not to see me openly again like this. With
Miss West watching me----"
"She might see us together, and suspect things. I understand. Needn't
worry about that. You may not see me again for a year. I'm
here--there--everywhere. But before I go, how do things look for the
election?"
"We'll carry the city easily."
"Who'll you put up for mayor?"
"Probably Kennedy, the prosecuting attorney."
"Is he safe?"
"He'll do what he's told."
"That's good. Is he strong with the people?"
"Fairly so. But the party will carry him through."
"H'm." Mr. Brown was thoughtful for a space. "This is your end of the
game, of course, and I make it a point not to interfere with another
man's work. The only time I've butted in here was when I helped you
about getting Marcy. But still, I hope you don't mind my making a
suggestion."
"Not at all."
"We've got to have the next mayor and council, you know. Simply got
to have them. We don't want to run any risk, however small. If you
think there's one chance in a thousand of Kennedy losing out, suppose
you have yourself nominated."
"Me?" exclaimed Blake.
"It strikes you as a come-down, of course. But you can do it
gracefully--in the interest of the city, and all that, you know. You
can turn it into a popular hit. Then you can resign as soon as our
business is put through."
"There may be something in it," commented Blake.
"It's only a suggestion. Just think it over, and use your own
judgment." He stood up. "Well, I guess that's all we need to say to
one another. The whole situation here is entirely in your hands. Do as
you please, and we ask no questions about how you do it. We're not
interested in methods, only in results."
He clapped Blake heartily upon the shoulder. "And it looks as though
we all were going to get results! Especially you! Why, you, with this
trial successfully over--with the election won--with the goods
delivered----"
He suddenly broke off, for the tail of his eye had sighted Blake's
open cabinet.
"Will you allow me a liberty?"
"Certainly," replied Blake, in the dark as to his visitor's purpose.
Mr. Brown crossed to the cabinet, and returned with the squat, black
bottle and two small glasses. He tilted an inch into each tumbler,
gave one to Blake, and raised the other on high. His face was
illumined with his fatherly smile.
"To our new Senator!" he said.