not tend to soothe that feeling. At any time a visit from the county
chairman would have been most unwelcome, but now it was an exhibition of
unmitigated gall! Another contribution, I supposed, angrily eyeing the
sleeper. I had been the 'good thing' for Sale and his crowd for some
years past, and had pretty well resolved to cut loose from them--and
politics. I thought of the many ambitious young fellows I knew who had
been permanently injured while hovering around the political flame.
Some, indeed, were burned to death, others are floundering through life
on crippled wings; all were more or less singed, both morally and
financially. My experience thus far had been a financial singe, and the
last scorching was still fresh and quivering. Only the week before I had
given Sale my check for quite a tolerable sum, and then as soon as he
had left my office, kicked myself for doing so. The money, he said, was
to go toward defraying the expenses of the nominating convention, which
was to meet at Shawnee on the twenty-first, and as a good man and true I
had to 'cough up' with the rest of them.
"And here he was again!
"As I glared at him the chairman turned over uneasily, sputtered,
sneezed, opened his eyes, and sat up, staring stupidly.
"'How're you? How're you?' he roared, wiping his face with a grimy
handkerchief. 'Ain't this dust awful? There ain't no doing anything with
it. If you put the winders down you'll smother with the heat, and if you
leave 'em up, you'll choke to death. Hobson's choice, eh? Ha, ha! And
all that prayin' for rain on Sunday, too. Providence's ways is certainly
beyond us--ain't they? Well, I rather guess _this_ visit 'll surprise
ye.'
"'It does, Mr. Sale, it does!' said I warmly. 'You know I told you when
you were here the other day that I could not--you know damn well
that----'
"'Now, now, now,' said he soothingly, holding up his hand, 'don't do
that! You're on the wrong tack, Mister, 'deed you are. There's another
guess a comin' to you. It ain't money we want this time, no, siree!
Money don't cut no ice this trip, though it _is_ a mighty handy thing to
have a jinglin' in your jeans--ain't it? No, it ain't the "sinews," as
Jim McGubbin calls it; it's _you_, Mr. Holloway; it's _you_, sir!'
"'Me, Mr. Sale?'
"'Yes, sir; you. Why it's as plain as the nose on your face, Mr.
Holloway, and that is--the Democratic party of the --th deestric' is
pretty unanimous on _one_ thing anyhow, this year. I'll admit we ain't
come to no final decision on our platform, but we air pretty generally
agreed on our candi_date_, and that's the Honrubble Andrew Jackson
Holloway--yourself, sir! That's why I am here to-day. When I heerd you
speakin' in court just now, I turned and says to Jim McGubbin, says I,
"That there's the voice that'll wake 'em up in Congress." I felt just
like the old feller in the Bible. The sperrit of prophecy was on me. And
Jim he agreed with me. Jim's got the Shawnee organization right under
his thumb, same as--'tween you and me--I've got H----. McGubbin's out
and out for Holloway. "Holloway and Reform!" That's our cry this year. I
seen Potter James and old Pete Whitehead over to Andrewville yesterday,
and they'll fetch their people in line for you all right. If you'll make
the run, we'll elect you sure; and that ain't no lie.'
"Sale, a big man with a loud voice, impressive tones, and masterful
ways, overpowered me.
"'Sit down, Mr. Sale,' I said weakly, 'sit down. Let us talk it over.
This nomination--it is a great honor, I am sure--I can scarcely tell you
how flattered--how----'
"'Oh, that's all right, that's all right,' said he, beaming. 'I know'd
you'd be a little, well--flustered, eh?--when I fust broke the news to
you, and I don't say but what it isn't perfectly natural, too. These
things don't happen to a man every day, and especially to--beggin' your
pardon--to a man as young as yourself, sir. But the Democratic party of
the --th deestric' of Illinoy knows a good thing when they sees it.'
Sale's unconscious sarcasm hurt me. 'I have sounded them to the bottom,'
he went on, 'and it's Holloway, Holloway, Holloway, everywhere. Now
you'll let us put you up, won't you? There ain't no earthly doubt 'bout
your gettin' the nomination. Harrison may give old Colonel Harrison its
vote on the first ballot, just as a compliment, you know; and I'll admit
that down Hall City way there's some talk of Sile Munyon, but there
ain't nothin' to it. We'll prick the Munyon boom before it's bigger'n a
pea. We'll fix things, you bet. And we'll elect you, too! It's a good
job to hold down--that of being a Congressman; it ain't the office so
much as it is the purgatives that go with it. I'd like to go to Congress
myself. Maybe I will some day. Well, as I was goin' to say, I driv over
to the Courthouse Sunday, and saw the boys there, and I talked them into
the right way o' thinkin'. They are all O. K.
"'There's a deal of grumblin' and dissatisfaction 'mongst the
Republicans just now. Sam Thorne ain't done the square thing by the gang
that 'lected him, and they are mighty sore over it. Washington's kinder
turned his head. He's got awful stuck up of late, and wears a
long-tailed coat and beaver hat all the time. And that 'pointment of Ben
McConnell postmaster of Liberty has hurt Thorne and the Republican party
a heap all over the deestric'. Ben McConnell never voted the Republican
ticket but twicst in his life. Up to two years ago he was a red-hot
Democrat, and no one down in their hearts, Republican or Democrat, has
any use for a turncoat. I take it all in all, he is the most onpopular
man in Illinoy to-day. His conduct is as hard to swaller as a dose of
them old Greek twins, Castor Oil and Politics, we use to wrastle with at
school. Of course in political life, like in ordinary life, you have to
eat a peck o' dirt before you die, but you don't have to eat it all at
oncst like he's a doin'! Why, old war-horses, Republicans all their
lives, were turned down for this here upstart! It's done the party a
deal of harm. And then, as I said before, Sam Thorne's confounded airs
is making everybody sick. No one ever thought anything of the Thornes
when I fust grew up. They wasn't no better'n any one else. Sam Thorne's
father was the clerk of the court at Liberty, and a darned poor one at
that, as I have often heard my father say. I went to school with Sam,
and many's the thrashin' I have given him, but that's neither here nor
there.
"'Oh, we've got 'em this time, sure! Yes, they're going to run Thorne
again. He's got hold of a wad there in Washington, and can buy up the
whole convention if need be. I wouldn't trust any of them Republicans.
The Democratic party is above sech doin's. We stand for purity,
patriotism--the whole bag o' tricks! Ha, ha! And politics, I guess, is
like everything else. So long as you stick to the Thirteenth
Commandment, you'll get there without any trouble.'
"'The Thirteenth Commandment'?
[Illustration: "--Stick to the Thirteenth Commandment!"]
"'Yes, the Thirteenth--"Thou shalt not be found out," you know. Oh,
we'll fix the Thorne gang as sure's you're born to die! My luck'll carry
you through. It sure will! A chiropodist in Chicago once told me that
there was a terribul commotion in the heavens when I was born. Venus was
bit by the Dog Star--or some sech foolishness--all of which went to show
that I come on the earth at jest the right diabolical moment. And I
guess the fellow knew what he was a talkin' about, with his maps, and
charts, and things. Anyway, I've got no kick comin'. I have always had
the best o' good luck, and I'll pass it on to you.'
"Sale was a good talker, and carried everything before him. Now and then
I managed to slip in a word or two in feeble protest, but he swept away
all my objections with the same easy movement that he chased off the
flies from his face.
"When I looked at my watch it was ten minutes before two o'clock. Sale
was going out into the hot street, jubilant, and I was the more than
probable nominee of the Democratic party of the --th district for
Congress! I knew that Sale would make good his word; and, having given
it, I would stick to mine. But my tempter out of the way, I writhed and
groaned under my folly and weakness. I grabbed up my hat, and hurried
back to court as in a nightmare. The Hawley case went against me, but it
paled into insignificance by the side of my newer and greater
misfortune.
"For Sale had hypnotized me!
"Of course I was nominated. Nominated with shouts, and cat-calls, and
much unearthly clamor. Nominated on the second ballot to the eternal
confusion of the Munyon crowd, who afterward, I have been told, bolted
the ticket and voted solidly for my Republican opponent. I made a
speech, and was wildly cheered, then dragged in Lum Atkins's buggy to my
hotel by an army of yelling partisans. I was interviewed by reporters,
photographed by an enthusiastic young woman on the _Argus_ staff, and
made in every way to feel that I was one of the truly great. But I knew
otherwise.
"In the months following I hobnobbed lovingly with every heeler,
ward-worker, and thug in that part of the State. My bar'l was tapped,
and well tapped. The stubs in my check-book are mutely eloquent. Then
the press got in its fine work. When the opposition sheets were through
with me not a shred of character had I left. I shivered in my moral
nakedness, one enterprising journal said, and that is just about what I
did. My public appearances--on the stump, and on the rostrum--afforded
rare fun for the other side. I was not an orator--never claimed to be
one--and of course they made the most of it. I spoke my little piece as
well as I could, but my opponent was known as 'The Silver-tongued
Demosthenes of Illinois'--or something like that--so where did I come
in? And how those newspaper fellows did enjoy it all! God bless them!
They have proven good friends of mine since, but their sharpened quills
were fiery darts to me in those days!
"And I was otherwise discouraged. My encounter with big Bill Such of
Sangamon left him, as before, the undisputed rough and tumble champion
of middle Illinois. My people at home, too, were solidly against me.
Life-long Republicans, as they had always been, they felt that I had
disgraced them, and showed it very plainly. As the standard-bearer of a
party upon whose banners Victory had never perched, at least so far as
my district was concerned, I was indeed the leader of a forlorn and
ragged hope; but my blood was up, and I was determined at least to make
a better showing than any other Democrat had done.
"But it was an expensive ambition.
"Election day rolled around, and I spent the greater part of the time
driving to and from the polling places in my own county. I was
particularly anxious to carry H----, even though all the other counties
failed me. That would soften the blow to the family pride, I thought.
Not a morsel of food passed my lips during the whole of that trying
fifth of November. From sunrise to sunset I never left my buggy, except
once to vote, and at nightfall I was fairly done up. When all was over I
was too tired-out to await returns at headquarters, so I turned in quite
early, only venturing to hope that the fate of Judkins would not be
mine. For Judkins, a recent victim, had been so overwhelmingly defeated
in the spring elections that he had retired from the political arena in
disgust; anathematizing politics in general and the politics of the --th
district in particular. Then, in his weak and shattered condition, he
fell into the arms of the eldest Parsons girl, who had been stalking him
for, lo, these many years!
"I slept as soundly as though trouble, sorrow, and Congressional
elections had never been; and in the morning came the surprise.
"I was elected by an enormous majority!
"I can not explain this phenomenon; they are still trying to do that out
my way. It was an upheaval, with the great Democratic party and its
astonished candidate very much on top. Its like will never occur again
in my State; not in my district, anyhow. A recent Republican gerrymander
will prevent that. Andrew Sale says he did it. Maybe he did; I don't
know."
"It was Fate--f-a-t-e--Fate!" said Colonel Manysnifters, solemnly.
"There's no avoiding it. My sainted parents, both good Presbyterians in
their day, would doubtless have urged predestination. That may be it.
Your election to Congress was something you couldn't side-step. Nor, by
the same token, can I. Only when I am nominated, I don't worry any more.
There _is_ a general election, I believe, but that doesn't fret me much.
We have eliminated the opposition down our way--perfectly legal and
statutory. Oh, yes. There _are_ a few 'lily-white' votes cast on the
other side, they tell me,--sort of a registered kick for conscience's
sake, I suppose,--but it is just a matter of form, and nobody gets
excited over it. They are trifles lighter than air, yet--
"'Small things should not unheeded be,
Nor atoms due attention lack,
We all know well the miseree
Occasioned by an unseen tack!'
"And again:
"'Little drops of water,
Little grains of sand
Make contractors' mortar
That is used throughout the land.'"
"Well," said Sammy Ridley, drawing a deep breath when the Colonel was
through, "I may be a damn fool, but I am no poet!"
VII
REPRESENTATIVE VAN RENSSELAER UNFOLDS A STRANGE TALE
"And now, Van Rensselaer," said Colonel Manysnifters, "it's around to
you. I reckon you have something up your sleeve that will surprise us,
eh?" The debonair Congressman from the Empire State was quite equal to
the occasion. He seemed primed and ready, and needed no further urging.
There was another hiss of soda, the clink of glasses, and with a
prolonged sigh of satisfaction he began.
"This is a true tale, and unfolded now for the first time. Harken unto
the evidence.
"It was a lovely afternoon in early spring, and 'The Avenue' was alive
with a leisurely moving throng--for no one hurries in Washington. I
strolled along, thoroughly enjoying the balmy weather, the crowds, and
the charm of it all. About four o'clock hundreds of government clerks
streamed out sluggishly from the side streets. At the crossings fakirs
were busy, their customers good-naturedly elbowing each other in their
eagerness to be swindled. And violets everywhere! The air was filled
with the scent of them. Men, women, and children with trays piled high
with the tiny purple and white flowers were doing a tremendous business;
their customers ranging from dignified statesmen to the loudly dressed
Afro-American gayly swinging along. Out of the fashionable Northwest
came many carriages, passing from the grim shadow of the Treasury into
the sunlit way beyond. The trend of movement was eastward--always
eastward--toward the great white dome on the hill. Congress was in
session, and history was making there. The war debate was on in all its
fury, with the whole world listening breathlessly. Pictures of the
ill-fated _Maine_ were much in evidence, and maps of Cuba in the shop
windows were closely scanned. The probability of war with Spain was
loudly and boastfully discussed by seedy looking men in front of the
cheaper hotels and restaurants. Extra editions of the New York papers
with huge scare headlines were eagerly bought up. The latest news from
the Capitol--_via_ New York--was seized upon with avidity. The papers
were filled with the rumored departure of the American Consul-General
from Havana. 'Twas said that he was coming direct to Washington. His
portrait and the _Maine_ lithographs were hung side by side, and the
people spoke of 'Our Fitz' with enthusiastic affection. The President
and his Cabinet were roundly censured for their policy of moderation.
Much whiskey and beer was consumed by thirsty patriots. The pent-up
feeling of the people found relief here and there by loud
cheering--especially at the bulletin boards. Tiny Cuban flags were worn.
Crossed American and Cuban flags were everywhere displayed.
"The De Lome incident--the intercepted letter of the imprudent Spanish
Minister, and his subsequent disgrace and recall--was another
much-discussed topic. It was an open secret, especially among the
newspaper fraternity and others in the know, that the former minister
had dispensed with lavish hand a corruption fund to influence writers on
the American press. A little clique of journalists in and around the
Capitol had profited greatly. Information about alleged filibuster
movements found a ready market at the Spanish legation. These, and a
dozen other subjects relative to the momentous events then impending,
occupied the thoughts of a highly excited public.
"That walk down Pennsylvania Avenue from the Treasury to the Capitol
opened my eyes wider than ever to the fact that the popular clamor was
for war, war, the sooner the better. The sentiment in Washington voiced
that of the entire country. Similar scenes were occurring in all the
large cities, and I could fancy the crowd at the home post-office
waiting for the latest Buffalo papers, hear the warm debate at Steve
Warner's, and see Major Kirkpatrick haranguing the boys from the steps
of the city hall; which, in fact, he did. (See the Hiram _Intelligencer_
of that date.)
"Henley of Iowa had the floor when I took my seat in the House. The
galleries were filled. It was warm in the chamber, and fans, bright bits
of color, waved briskly. In the Diplomatic gallery the representatives
of many nations seemed anxious and absorbed. Subdued murmurs of
applause, like the hum of a mighty hive, arose at the telling points of
the speech, which was for war! war! war! The galleries reeked with
enthusiasm, and quailed not before the stern eye of the Speaker.
"Notwithstanding Henley's fiery eloquence, I was desperately sleepy,
having been up late the night before; indeed, there were streaks of rosy
light in the eastern sky when I reached my hotel. I found myself nodding
at my desk, and it was with an effort that I turned to the work which
had accumulated before me. An enormous mail had arrived. The usual
place-hunting letters from constituents, a petition from the Women's
Christian Temperance Union of Hiram Center protesting against the sale
of liquor at the Capitol, invitations to dine, a tempting mining
prospectus, circulars without number, and at the bottom of the pile a
square blue affair with the Washington postmark. I gave it my immediate
attention. The letter began abruptly, and ran as follows:
"'Ah, senor, have you forgotten Saratoga, and the little Mercedes?
Have you forgotten your promise to the Cuban girl? Surely not! The
pain in my heart you must well understand, for I know that _you_
love _your_ country very dearly. I read your speeches--all of
them--I read them in the papers, but not a word for Cuba--my poor,
bleeding Cuba! And yet you swore to me that night on the veranda,
with the moon shining so softly through the vines, that your voice
would ever be raised for Cuba--Cuba Libre! Would I have kissed you
else? Now, dear friend, when you make one of your beautiful
speeches again, think of Cuba, my gasping, dying Cuba, and
"'MERCEDES.
"'P. S.--I am in Washington, at the Arlington.--M.'
"This was interesting, to say the least. Of course, I remembered
Mercedes, and old Villasante, her fat papa, and Manuel the brother, and
Alejandro the cousin. Yes, I remembered them all very well and the night
on the veranda, with the moon shining softly through the vines, the
music floating out to us from the ballroom, the innumerable bumpers with
Manuel Villasante, Carlos Amezaga, Alejandro Menendez, and others of the
Cuban colony at the hotel. Also the promise made to my lovely partner as
to the voice for Cuba--Cuba Libre!--when I took my seat in Congress; the
warm pressure of her arms around my neck--and the kiss! How could I
forget it? But that was two summers ago, and my views now and then were
vastly different. Whatever I may have said under the combined witchery
of Mercedes, the moonlight, and the champagne was not to be seriously
considered now. Like all Americans and lovers of liberty, I thought of
course that Cuba should be free, that she should make every effort
toward that much-to-be-desired end, but the idea of my own country
stepping in to aid her did not strongly appeal to me. While Cuban
affairs elicited the warmest interest in the States, those of our people
who had actively assisted the patriots had become involved in endless
trouble both with the home government and that of Spain. Filibustering
was severely frowned upon, and many recent attempts had proven most
disastrous, jeopardizing both the lives of the 'patriots' and the
_entente cordiale_ between two great and friendly nations. The blowing
up of the _Maine_, undoubtedly the work of Cuban insurgents in order to
hasten hostilities with Spain, had rendered the situation most acute.
Pledged to the Administration, I was a conservative of conservatives. I
was therefore opposed to any interference in Cuban affairs, and I
regarded a conflict with Spain as the height of folly. I was determined
to fight to the bitter end any measure for war.
[Illustration: The Kiss!]
"With all this in mind, I tore up the fair Cuban's letter and threw it
into the waste-basket. At that very moment a page hurried to my side and
handed me a card.
"Manuel Villasante was waiting to see me!
"I went out to him most reluctantly. He greeted me with enthusiasm; his
delight amounting almost to rapture. I am afraid I did not meet him half
way, nor anywhere near it. He did not appear to notice it.
"'My dear, dear friend,' said he, 'this is a sublime moment! To see
_you_, the gay companion, the good fellow, the butterfly, I may say, of
other days, a member of this great body is certainly soul-stirring! So
you have realized your ambition? What next? The Senate? And then--then?'
he pointed upward, 'higher yet? and still higher? Ha! The White House?
Who knows?' he whispered prophetically.
"I cast my eyes modestly to the floor.
"'This is quite enough for me, or any other good American; but, Senor,
tell me about your father and the Senorita, your sister; are they well?
And how long have you been in Washington? It is certainly good to see
you again.'
"'We are all here for a few days--my father, my sister, and I. You know
we are living in New York this winter?'
"'In New York, eh? Fine! It is strange,' I continued, 'but I was
thinking of you and your family the very moment your card was brought
in.'
"'Ah, my friend,' he said mysteriously, 'you know what it is, do you
not? It is the mental telepathy. I have known of things most wonderful
to happen by the mental telepathy. Only yesterday my sister
Mercedes----'
"'Quite right,' said I, heading him off, and remembering something I had
read not long before, 'it is indeed a wonderful, subtle thing. We live
in the midst of the unknown. Unseen forces drag us hither and thither.
At times we are brought face to face with the occult, the eerie, the
gruesome. Charcot says in his superb work on the subject
that--er--that--well, we will hardly go into it now. Some other time.
The matter is a profound one, and not to be touched upon lightly. How is
my old friend Alejandro Menendez?'
"'He is well, but--sh! Caution! Are we quite safe here? Yes? It is a
great secret, but I tell _you_--you, a trusted friend. I tell you all!
Alejandro Menendez is at this very moment approaching the shores of our
beloved isle! I can see it now--the beautiful yacht, the calm blue sea,
the brave patriots, and our glorious flag floating in the breeze! And a
more magnificent body of men never set forth in a grander cause; with
hearts full of courage and high purpose to fight, aye, to die, in the
sacred cause of Liberty!'
"'That's great!' said I, with a burst of false enthusiasm, 'great! never
heard anything better in my life! Villasante, old fellow, put it there!
I admire your ner--feeling!' And we clasped hands.
"'And you will join them?' I added.
"'No, not yet,' he said, with an expressive shrug; 'I am more needed
elsewhere; here--in New York. There is money to be raised, arms and
ammunition to be procured, sympathies to enlist, influence to gain.
Later, I will see Alejandro, and the beautiful _Sylph_.'
"'The what?' I asked, rising excitedly.
"'The _Sylph_--the _Sylph_--queen of vessels! Senor Robson's yacht.
Senor Robson--the tall handsome fellow who was with us at the Spa. You
know him.'
"'Know him? Of course I know him! Robson? Robson a filibuster?
Impossible!'
"'Why so?' asked the Cuban coldly.
"'Hell, man!' I said, 'don't you realize what it all means?--certain
failure, disgrace, death! My God, what folly!'
"'Never, never!' shouted Villasante, waving his arms. 'Glory awaits
them! The plaudits of the world! The embraces and blessings of a freed
people! Laurel wreaths shall crown their brows! Poets shall chant their
praises! History will render them immortal! Oh, what an opportunity is
theirs! And everything has been most carefully planned. 'Twas Robson's
own idea. A picked lot of men, with rifles and ammunition. He to command
the vessel; Menendez to assume the lead on landing. Their destination,
co-operation with the patriots on shore, supplies--everything has been
arranged for. As to their success, I have no fear whatsoever!'