HE DIPS IN HIS SPOON
Scattergood Baines sat on the piazza of his hardware store and twiddled
his bare toes reflectively. He was not thinking of to-day nor of
to-morrow, but of days a score of years distant and of plans not to come
to maturity for twenty years. That was Scattergood's way. From his
history, as it is to be gathered from the ancient gossips of Coldriver,
one is forced to the conclusion that few of his acts were performed with
reference to the immediate time. If he set on foot some scheme, one
learns to study it and to endeavor to see to what outcome it may lead
ten years after its inception. He looked always to the future, and more
than once one may see where he has forgone immediate profit in order to
derive that profit a hundredfold a generation later.
So, as Scattergood twiddled his reflective toes, he looked far ahead
into the future of Coldriver Valley; he saw that valley as his own,
developed as few mountain valleys are ever developed. Its stage line,
already his property, was replaced by a railroad. The waters of its
river and tributaries were dammed to give a cheap and constant power
which should be connected in some way to this electricity of which he
heard so much and about which he always desired to hear more. He saw
factories springing up. In short, he saw his valley as the center of the
state's commercial life, and himself as the center of the valley.
Scattergood was well aware that there always will exist those who will
clog the road of progress and attempt to stem any tide arising for the
public good--unless they can see for themselves an individual benefit.
He knew that it is not uncommon for those whose business is the common
good--such individuals as legislators and governors and judges--to
assume some such attitude, and he knew that it was regarded as expensive
to win their favor. He did not grow especially angry at this condition,
but accepted it as a condition and studied to see what he could do about
it--for he knew he must do something about it.
He must take it into consideration, because one does not build railroads
without legislative sanction, nor does one dam streams nor carry out
wide commercial programs. The consent of the _people_ must be had, and
the people had handed over their consent in trust to their elected
representatives. Scattergood saw at once that it was preferable to be
one from whom governors and legislators and judges asked favors and
looked to for guidance, than to be one to come a suppliant before those
personages, and as soon as he saw that clearly he reached his
determination.
"Calculate," said he, to the shoes which he held in his hand, "that I
got to git up and stir around in politics some."
From that moment Scattergood scrutinized the bowl of politics to
discover when and where he could dip in his spoon.
The opportunity to dip, it soon became apparent, would be at the time of
the fall town meetings, for there was a fight on in the state and its
preliminary rumblings were already making themselves audible. Hitherto
the state had been held securely by certain political gentlemen, who in
turn had been held securely by a certain other and greater political
gentleman--Lafe Siggins. Other non-political gentlemen who represented
_money_ and _business_ had seen, as Scattergood did, the necessity for
becoming political, and had chosen their moment to endeavor to take the
state away from Messrs. Siggins & Co. and to hold it thereafter for
their own benefit and behoof. They were, therefore, laying their plans
to win the legislature by winning the town meetings of the fall, and to
win they had decided to make their fight upon the total prohibition of
liquor in the state. It was not that they cared ethically whether drinks
of a spirituous nature were dispensed or not, but it was the best
available issue. If it did not work out to their satisfaction they could
reverse themselves when they came into power.
So they made an issue of prohibition, and planned astutely to go to the
town meetings on that platform, for a majority of the towns voted local
option with regularity. The new powers would first sweep the town
meetings for local option, and in the wave of enthusiasm put into office
at the same time legislators chosen by themselves.
Scattergood saw the trend of affairs early and gave them his earnest
consideration. That his ancient ill wishers, Messrs. Crane & Keith, were
identified with the new and rising power may not have been the least of
the considerations which determined him to dip in his spoon on the side
of Siggins and the old order. But there was one obstacle. Scattergood
desired local option, for he was now the employer of many men, both in
the woods and in other enterprises, and he knew well that labor and hard
liquor are disturbing bedfellows.... He considered and reached the
conclusion that for this one time, perhaps, he could both have his cake
and eat it.
He could have his cake and still eat it only by the results of an
election which should not be a victory for the new powers nor for the
old, but for another minor power differing from each. In other words,
Scattergood saw the wisdom of defeating both the contenders locally, and
then of throwing in with Siggins as to the fight for state control....
But of this determination he notified not a soul. Judging from his
actions, it may be safely said that he was at some pains to conceal the
fact that he was interested in politics in any manner or degree
whatever.
But Scattergood was a chatty body, and Coldriver would have been
surprised if he did not talk politics, as did all its other male
inhabitants. It came about that more politics than hardware was
discussed on Scattergood's piazza, but to the casual listener it seemed
only purposeless discussion. But Scattergood was a master of purposeless
discussion. His methods were his own and worthy of notice.
Marvin Towne and Old Man Bogle sauntered past and paused to mention the
weather.
"Goin' to be lots of politics this year," said Scattergood. "Jest got in
a line of gardenin' tools, Bogle."
"Town's goin' to be het up for certain," said Mr. Bogle, waggling his
ancient head. "Calc'late to have all the tools I need."
"Who's figgerin' on runnin' for legislature, Marvin?"
"Guess Will Pratt's puttin' up Pazzy Cox ag'in." Pratt was postmaster
and local party leader.
"Anybody calc'latin' to run ag'in' him, Marvin? Any opposition
appearin'?"
"Goin' to be a fight, Scattergood. Big doin's in the state. Tryin' to
upset Lafe Siggins. Uh-huh! Wuth watchin', says I."
"I hear tell the lawless elements is puttin' up Jim Allen on a whisky
platform," said Old Man Bogle, acidly.
"Them all the candidates, Bogle? Hain't no others?"
"Nary."
"Coldriver's got to take whatever candidates them outsiders chooses, eh?
Coldriver hain't got no say who'll represent her in the legislature?"
"Don't 'pear so. All done by party machinery, Scattergood. We got
nothin' to do but pick between parties."
"Looks so.... Looks that way," said Scattergood. "Too bad there hain't
one more party that hain't controlled so folks could git a chance....
What's this here Prohibition party I been hearin' some of in other
parts?"
"'S fur's I know it's all right, only it hain't got no votes, and votes
is necessary in politics."
"Licker enters into this here campaign, don't it?"
"Backbone of it."
"Seems like these Prohibition fellers ought to take a hand. Any of 'em
in Coldriver?"
"Don't seem like I ever heard speak of one."
"Could be, couldn't there? 'Tain't impossible?"
"S'pose one could be got up--if anybody was int'rested."
"Need a strong candidate, wouldn't they? Have to have a man to head it
up that would command respect?"
"Wouldn't git fur with it. Parties too well organized."
"Um!... Lemme show you a new hand seeder I jest got in. Labor savin'.
Calc'late it's a bargain."
"Don't hold with them newfangled notions, Scattergood."
"S'prised at you, Marvin. Folks expects progress of you. Look up to you,
kind of. Take their idees from you."
"I dunno," said Marvin, visibly pleased, but deprecatory.
"Careful, cautious--but most gen'ally right, that's what I hear folks
say. Quite a bit of talk goin' around about you. Politics. Uh-huh! Heard
several say it was a pity Marvin Towne couldn't be got to go to the
legislature. Heard that, hain't you, Bogle?"
"Don't call it to mind, but maybe I have. Maybe I have. Anyhow, I
calc'late it's true."
"There you be, Marvin. Now it behooves a man that's looked up to for to
keep in the lead. Ought to look into that seeder, Marvin. Folks'll say:
'Marvin Towne's got him one of them seeders. Darn progressive farmer.
Gits him all the modern improvements.'"
"Suthin' in what you say, Scattergood. Calculate I might examine into
that tool one of these days."
"Hain't much choice between Pazzy Cox and Jim Allen, eh? Hain't neither
of 'em desirable lawmakers, eh? That what you was sayin'?"
"Them's my idees," said Marvin.
"Too bad we're forced to take one or t'other. Now if they was some way
for you to step in and run."
"Hain't."
"Sh'u'd think you'd look over them Prohibitionists. Draw all the best
citizens after you. Set a example to the state.... Step back and look at
that there seeder, Marvin."
Marvin looked at the seeder judicially. "Calc'late to guarantee it,
Scattergood?"
"Put it in writin'," said Scattergood.
"Calc'late I'll have to have it. Considerin' everything, guess I'll take
it along."
"Knowed you would, Marvin. Sich men as you is to be depended on. Folks
realizes it."
"If I thought they was a call for me to go to the legislature--"
"Call?" said Scattergood. "Marvin, I'm tellin' you it's dum near a
shout."
"Huh!... Where could I git to find out about this here Prohibitionist
party?"
Presently Marvin Towne and Old Man Bogle went along. Scattergood gazed
after them speculatively, and as he gazed his hands went automatically
to his shoes, which he removed to give play to his reflective toes.
"Um!..." he grunted. "If nothin' more comes of it I made a profit of
three dollar forty on that seeder."
Pliny Pickett, stage driver, was a frequent caller at Scattergood's
store, first as an employee, but more importantly as a dependable
representative who could carry out an order without asking questions,
especially when no definite order had been given.
"Pliny," said Scattergood, "know Marvin Towne, don't you? Brought up
with him, wasn't you?"
"Know him like the palm of my hand."
"Um!... Strange he hain't never been talked up for the legislature,
Pliny. Strange there hain't talk about him on the stagecoach. Ever hear
any?"
"Some, lately."
"Could hear more, couldn't you? If you listened.... Set around the post
office, evenin's, don't you?"
"Some."
"Discussin' topics? Ever discuss this Prohibition party?"
"I _could_," said Pliny.
"Seems like a shame folks here can't run the man they want for office.
Strike you that way?"
"Certain sure. Calc'late they want Marvin bad?"
"They _could_," said Scattergood. "G'-by, Pliny."
Ten days later a third party made its appearance in the politics of
Coldriver, and Marvin Towne was announced as its candidate for the
legislature. It seemed a spontaneous excrescence, but, nevertheless, it
caused a visit from that great man and citizen, Lafe Siggins, as well as
a call from Mr. Crane, of Crane & Keith. Both astute gentlemen viewed
the situation, and their alarm subsided. Indeed, both perceived where it
could be turned to advantage. A canvass of the situation showed them
that the new Prohibitionists, though they talked loud and long, were
made up mainly of the discontented and of a few men always ready to
join any novel movement, and promised at best to poll not to exceed
forty votes of Coldriver's registered three hundred and eighty. It
really simplified the situation to Lafe and to Crane, for it removed
from circulation forty doubtful votes and left the real battle to be
fought between the regulars. Wherefore Messrs. Siggins and Crane
departed from the village in satisfied mood.
Scattergood sat on his piazza as usual, the morning after the portentous
visit, and called a greeting to Wade Lumley, dry-goods merchant, as that
prominent citizen passed to his place of business.
"How's the geldin' this mornin', Wade?" he asked.
"Feelin' his oats. Got to take him out on the road this evenin'. Time to
begin shapin' him up for the county fair."
"Three-year-old, hain't he?"
"Best in the state."
"Always figgered that till I heard Ren Green talkin'. Ren calculates
he's got a three-year-old that'll make any other hoss in these parts
look like it was built of pine."
Wade was eager in a moment. "Willin' to back them statements with money,
is he?"
"Said somethin' about havin' a hunderd dollars that wasn't workin'
otherwise, seems as though," said Scattergood. "Jest half a mile from
Pettybone's house to the dam," he continued, with apparent irrelevance.
"Level road."
"And my geldin' kin travel that same road spryer 'n Green's hoss--for a
hunderd dollars," said Wade, eagerly.
"Dunno," said Scattergood. "Hoss races is uncertain. G'-by, Wade. See
you later."
A similar conversation with Ren Green during the day resulted in a
meeting between the horsemen, an argument, loud words, and a heated
offer to wager money, which was accepted with like heat.
"From Pettybone's to the dam--half a mile," shouted Wade.
"Suits me to a T," bellowed Ren; "and now you kin step across with me
and deposit that there hunderd dollars ag'in' mine with Briggs of the
hotel."
So, terms and conditions having been arranged, the bets were made, and
the money locked in the hotel safe. News of the matter swept through
Coldriver, and for the evening politics were forgotten and excitement
ran high. Next day it arose to a higher pitch, for Town-marshal Pease
had forbidden the race to be run through the public streets of
Coldriver, viewing it as a menace to life, limb, and the public peace.
Scattergood had conversed sagely with Pease on the duties of a town
marshal.
Marvin Towne had formed the habit of stopping to chat with Scattergood
daily, totally unconscious that to all intents and purposes he had been
ordered by Scattergood to make daily reports to him. He seemed depressed
as he leaned against a post of the piazza.
"Lookin' peaked, Marvin. Hain't all goin' well? Gittin' uneasy?"
"It's this dum hoss race," said Marvin. "Everybody's het up over it so's
nobody'll talk politics. How's a feller goin' to win votes if he can't
git nobody to talk to him, that's what I want to know? Seems like there
hain't nothin' in the world but Wade Lumley's geldin' and that hoss of
Green's."
"Um!... Sort of distressing hain't it? Know Kent Pilkinton perty well,
Marvin?"
"Brother-in-law."
"Holds public office, don't he?"
"Chairman of the Board of Selectmen's what he is."
"Good man fur't," said Scattergood, waggling his head. "Calculate to be
on good terms with him, Marvin? Perty good terms?"
"Good enough so's he kin ask me to loan him two thousand dollars he's
needin' a'mighty bad."
"Give it to him, Marvin?"
"Huh!" said Marvin, eloquently.
"If I was to indorse his note, think you could see your way clear?"
"Certain sure."
"See him ag'in, won't you? Perty soon?"
"Yes."
"What d'you calc'late to tell him?"
"What you said?"
"Didn't say nothin', did I? Jest asked a question. It was you _said_
something Marvin, wa'n't it? Said you'd lend on my indorsement."
"That what you want me to tell him?"
"Didn't say so, did I? Jest asked a question. G'-by, Marvin. Lemme know
what he says."
It was unnecessary for Marvin to report, for early next morning Kent
Pilkinton, owner of a hill farm on the out-skirts of a village--a farm
on which he succeeded in raising the most ample crop of whiskers in
Coldriver, and little else, came diffidently up to Scattergood as he sat
in front of his hardware store.
"Morning Kent," said Scattergood. "Come to look at mowin' machines, I
calc'late."
"Might _look_ at one," said Kent.
"Need one, don't you?"
"Bad."
"Need quite a mess of implements, don't you?"
"Could do with 'em if I had 'em.... 'Tain't what I come fur, though,
Scattergood. Been tryin' to borrow money off of my brother-in-law, but
he don't calclate to lend without I git an indorser, and seems like he
sets store by your name on a note."
"Does, eh? Any reason I should indorse for you? Know any reason?"
"Nary," said Kent, and started to move off.
"Hold your bosses. What you need the money for?"
"Pay off a thousand-dollar mortgage and another thousand to git the farm
in shape to run."
"Calculate you kin run it, then?"
"If I git the tools."
"I figger maybe you kin. Like to see you git ahead. Where d'you
calculate to buy them implements?"
"Off of you."
"I got 'em to sell. When you got to have the money?"
"Two weeks to-morrow."
This was the day after the town meeting.
"Come in and pick out your implements," said Scattergood.
"Meanin' you'll indorse?"
"Meanin' that--pervidin' nothin' unforeseen comes up between now and
then."
Half a day was spent selecting tools and implements for the farm, and
though Pilkinton did not know it, it was Scattergood's selection that
was purchased. Scattergood knew what was necessary and what would be
economical, and that was what Pilkinton got, and nothing more. It netted
Scattergood a pleasant profit, and Kent got the full equivalent of his
money.
"Preside at town meetin', don't you?"
"My duty," said Kent.
"Calc'late to _do_ your duty?"
"Always done so."
"Comin' to see you do it," said Scattergood. He paused. "Next mornin'
we'll fix up the note. G'-by, Kent." During the fourteen days that
followed Coldriver was happy; between politics and the forbidden horse
race, it had such food for conversation that even cribbage under the
barber shop languished, and one had to walk into the road to pass the
crowd at the post office of evenings. As to the horse race, it resembled
a boil. Daily it grew more painful. Like a boil, such a horse race as
this must burst some day, and it was reaching the acute stage. But
Town-marshal Pease was vigilant and spoke sternly of the majesty of the
law.
As to the election, it grew even more dubious. Scattergood privately
took stock of the situation. Marvin Towne and the Prohibitionists might
count now on a vote or two more than fifty. Postmaster Pratt appeared
certain of better than a hundred, and so did the opposing party. One or
the other of them was certain to win as matters lay, and Marvin's case
seemed hopeless. Marvin conceived it so and was for withdrawing, but
Scattergood saw to it that he did not withdraw.
"Keep your votes together," he said. "Stiffen 'em." It was his first
direct order. "Fetch 'em to the meetin' and be sure of every one."
On town-meeting day Coldriver filled with rigs from the surrounding
township. Every rail and post was utilized for hitching, and
Town-marshal Pease, his star displayed, patrolled the town to avert
disorder. He patrolled until the meeting went into session, and then he
took his chair just under the platform, and, as was his duty, guarded
the sacredness of the ballot.
Scattergood was present, sitting in a corner under the overhang of the
balcony, watching, but discouraging conversation. If one had studied his
face during the early proceedings he would have read nothing except a
genial interest, which was the thing Coldriver expected to see on
Scattergood's face. Town questions were decided, matters of sidewalks,
of road building, of schools, and every instance Marvin Towne's
fifty-two voted as a unit, swinging from one side to the other as their
peculiar interest dictated. On all minor questions it was Marvin Towne's
Prohibitionists who decided, because they carried the volume of votes
necessary to control. But when it came to major affairs, such as the
election of officers, there would be a different story. Then they could
join with neither party, but must stand alone as a unit, far outvoted.
So the regulars disregarded them, or if they gave them any attention it
was jocular. Even Marvin viewed the day as lost, but Scattergood held
him to the mark with a word passed now and then. It came three o'clock
of the afternoon before nominations for the high office of legislator
were the order of proceeding. Jim Allen and Pazzy Cox were placed before
the meeting as candidates amid the stimulated applause of their
adherents. Marvin Towne's name was received with laughter and such jeers
as the New England breed of farmer and townsman has rendered his own,
and at which he is a genius surpassed by none.
Chairman Pilkinton arose, as befitted the moment.
"Feller townsmen, we will now proceed to cast our ballots for the office
of representative in the legislature. The polls is open, and overlooked
by Town-marshal Pease. The ballotin' will begin."
And then....
At that instant there was an uproar on the stairs. Pliny Pickett burst
into the room, his hat missing, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"It's a-comin' off. They've stole a march. Hoss race!... Hoss race!...
Ren Green and Wade Lumley's got their hosses up to Deacon Pettybone's
and they're goin' to race to the dam. Everybody out. Hoss race!... Hoss
race!..." He turned and ran frantically down the stairs, and on his
heels followed the voters of Coldriver. But one or two remained; men too
rheumatic to chance rapid movement, or those whose positions compelled
them to consider as non-existent such a matter as a race between
quadrupeds.
But no sooner had the hall cleared than men began to return, in couples,
in squads, and to take their seats. Scattergood was standing up now,
counting. Fifty-two he counted, and remained standing.
"Polls is open, Mr. Chairman," says he.
"They was declared so, but--er--the voters has gone. I hain't clear how
to perceed."
"Do your duty, chairman, like you said. Town meetings don't calculate to
take account of hoss races, do they? Eh?... None of your affair, is it?"
Pilkinton looked at Scattergood, who smiled genially and said: "Duty's
duty, Pilkinton. If you was to fail in your duty as a public officer,
folks might git to think you wasn't the sort of citizen that could be
trusted. Might even affect sich things as credit and promissory notes."
Mr. Pilkinton no longer hesitated.
"The polls is open," he said.
The fifty-two, ballots ready in their hands, started for the box, but
Town-marshal Pease, awakened from his astonishment, lifted his voice.
"I got to stop that hoss race. Stop the votin' till I git back. That
hoss race has got to be stopped."
"Seems to me like votes was more important than hoss races," said
Scattergood.
"The town marshal will stay right where he is, and guard the ballot
box," said the chairman.
The voters moved to the front, and as they deposited their ballots,
sounds from without, indicating excitement and delight, were carried
through the windows to their ears. The fifty-two voted and returned to
their seats.
"If everybody present and desirin' to vote has done so," said
Scattergood, "I move you them polls be closed."
Mr. Pilkinton put the motion, and it was carried with enthusiasm.
"Tellers," suggested Scattergood.
As was the custom, the votes were counted immediately. The result stood,
Marvin Towne: fifty-three votes; Jim Allen, two votes; Pazzy Cox, four
votes.
"I declare Marvin Towne elected our representative to the legislature,"
said Chairman Pilkinton, weakly, and sat down, mopping his brow.
"That bein' the final business of this meetin'," said Scattergood, "I
move we adjourn."
The story swept the state. Twenty-four hours later Lafe Siggins visited
Coldriver and was driven to Scattergood Baines's hardware store.
Scattergood sat on the piazza, and as soon as the visitor was identified
the male inhabitants of the village began to gather.
"Kin we talk in private?" said Mr. Siggins.
"Hain't got no need for privacy. Folks is welcome to listen to all I got
to say."
Mr. Siggins frowned, but, being a politician and partially estimating
the quality of his man, he did not protest.
"You beat us clever," said he.
"Calculated to," said Scattergood.
"In politics for good?"
"Calculate to be."
"What you aim to do?"
"Kind of look after the politics in Coldriver."
"Be you fur me or ag'in' me?"
"I'm fur you till my mind changes."
"How about this here Prohibition party?"
"Don't figger it's necessary after this."
"Guess we kin agree," said Siggins. "You can figger the party
machinery's behind you. So fur's _we're_ concerned, _you're_ Coldriver."
"Calc'lated to be," said Scattergood.
"Some day," said Siggins, in not willing admiration, "you're goin' to
run the state."
"Calc'late to," said Scattergood, and thereby rather took Mr. Siggins's
breath. "Figger on makin' politics kind of a side issue to the hardware
business. Find it mighty stimilatin'. Politics took in moderation,
follerin' a meal of business, makes an all-fired tasty dessert....
G'-by, Siggins, g'-by."