"Krebs," he repeated. "I want to remember that. Durned if I don't shake
hands with him."
His excitement astonished me. Would the public feel like that, if they
only knew?... The Speaker's gavel had come down like a pistol shot.
One "war-hoss"--as my neighbour called them--after another proceeded to
crush the member from Elkington. It was, indeed, very skillfully done,
and yet it was a process from which I did not derive, somehow, much
pleasure. Colonel Varney's army had been magnificently trained to meet
just this kind of situation: some employed ridicule, others declared, in
impassioned tones, that the good name of their state had been wantonly
assailed, and pointed fervently to portraits on the walls of patriots of
the past,--sentiments that drew applause from the fickle gallery. One
gentleman observed that the obsession of a "railroad machine" was a sure
symptom of a certain kind of insanity, of which the first speaker had
given many other evidences. The farmer at my side remained staunch.
"They can't fool me," he said angrily, "I know 'em. Do you see that
fellow gettin' up to talk now? Well, I could tell you a few things about
him, all right. He comes from Glasgow, and his name's Letchworth. He's
done more harm in his life than all the criminals he's kept out of
prison,--belongs to one of the old families down there, too."
I had, indeed, remarked Letchworth's face, which seemed to me peculiarly
evil, its lividity enhanced by a shock of grey hair. His method was
withering sarcasm, and he was clearly unable to control his animus....
No champion appeared to support Krebs, who sat pale and tense while this
denunciation of him was going on. Finally he got the floor. His voice
trembled a little, whether with passion, excitement, or nervousness it
was impossible to say. But he contented himself with a brief defiance. If
the bill passed, he declared, the men who voted for it, the men who were
behind it, would ultimately be driven from political life by an indignant
public. He had a higher opinion of the voters of the state than those who
accused him of slandering it, than those who sat silent and had not
lifted their voices against this crime.
When the bill was put to a vote he demanded a roll call. Ten members
besides himself were recorded against House Bill No. 709!
In spite of this overwhelming triumph my feelings were not wholly those
of satisfaction when I returned to the hotel and listened to the
exultations and denunciations of such politicians as Letchworth, Young,
and Colonel Varney. Perhaps an image suggesting Hermann Krebs as some
splendid animal at bay, dragged down by the hounds, is too strong: he had
been ingloriously crushed, and defeat, even for the sake of conviction,
was not an inspiring spectacle.... As the chase swept on over his
prostrate figure I rapidly regained poise and a sense of proportion; a
"master of life" could not permit himself to be tossed about by
sentimentality; and gradually I grew ashamed of my bad quarter of an hour
in the gallery of the House, and of the effect of it--which lingered
awhile--as of a weakness suddenly revealed, which must at all costs be
overcome. I began to see something dramatic and sensational in Krebs's
performance....
The Ribblevale Steel Company was the real quarry, after all. And such had
been the expedition, the skill and secrecy, with which our affair was
conducted, that before the Ribblevale lawyers could arrive, alarmed and
breathless, the bill had passed the House, and their only real chance of
halting it had been lost. For the Railroad controlled the House, not by
owning the individuals composing it, but through the leaders who
dominated it,--men like Letchworth and Truesdale. These, and Colonel
Varney, had seen to it that men who had any parliamentary ability had
been attended to; all save Krebs, who had proved a surprise. There were
indeed certain members who, although they had railroad passes in their
pockets (which were regarded as just perquisites,--the Railroad being so
rich!), would have opposed the bill if they had felt sufficiently sure of
themselves to cope with such veterans as Letchworth. Many of these had
allowed themselves to be won over or cowed by the oratory which had
crushed Krebs.
Nor did the Ribblevale people--be it recorded--scruple to fight fire with
fire. Their existence, of course, was at stake, and there was no public
to appeal to. A part of the legal army that rushed to the aid of our
adversaries spent the afternoon and most of the night organizing all
those who could be induced by one means or another to reverse their
sentiments, and in searching for the few who had grievances against the
existing power. The following morning a motion was introduced to
reconsider; and in the debate that followed, Krebs, still defiant, took
an active part. But the resolution required a two-thirds vote, and was
lost.
When the battle was shifted to the Senate it was as good as lost. The
Judiciary Committee of the august body did indeed condescend to give
hearings, at which the Ribblevale lawyers exhausted their energy and
ingenuity without result with only two dissenting votes the bill was
calmly passed. In vain was the Governor besieged, entreated,
threatened,--it was said; Mr. Trulease had informed protesters--so
Colonel Varney gleefully reported--that he had "become fully convinced of
the inherent justice of the measure." On Saturday morning he signed it,
and it became a law....
Colonel Varney, as he accompanied me to the train, did not conceal his
jubilation.
"Perhaps I ought not to say it, Mr. Paret, but it couldn't have been done
neater. That's the art in these little affairs, to get 'em runnin' fast,
to get momentum on 'em before the other party wakes up, and then he can't
stop 'em." As he shook hands in farewell he added, with more gravity:
"We'll see each other often, sir, I guess. My very best regards to Mr.
Watling."
Needless to say, I had not confided to him the part I had played in
originating House Bill No. 709, now a law of the state. But as the train
rolled on through the sunny winter landscape a sense of well-being, of
importance and power began to steal through me. I was victoriously
bearing home my first scalp,--one which was by no means to be
despised.... It was not until we reached Rossiter, about five o'clock,
that I was able to get the evening newspapers. Such was the perfection of
the organization of which I might now call myself an integral part that
the "best" publications contained only the barest mention,--and that in
the legislative news,--of the signing of the bill. I read with
complacency and even with amusement the flaring headlines I had
anticipated in Mr. Lawler's 'Pilot.'
"The Governor Signs It!"
"Special legislation, forced through by the Railroad Lobby, which will
drive honest corporations from this state."
"Ribblevale Steel Company the Victim."
It was common talk in the capital, the article went on to say, that
Theodore Watling himself had drawn up the measure.... Perusing the
editorial page my eye fell on the name, Krebs. One member of the
legislature above all deserved the gratitude of the people of the
state,--the member from Elkington. "An unknown man, elected in spite of
the opposition of the machine, he had dared to raise his voice against
this iniquity," etc., etc.
We had won. That was the essential thing. And my legal experience had
taught me that victory counts; defeat is soon forgotten. Even the
discontented, half-baked and heterogeneous element from which the Pilot
got its circulation had short memories.