THE COMPACT
Lemuel Fogg was very much astonished when he received a call from
Sibyl Dudley, who invaded the privacy of his room without taking the
trouble to announce her coming. Fogg did not know much about Mrs.
Dudley, except that she was a friend and patron of Sloan Jasper’s
pretty daughter, and lived in Denver. He had once remarked to an
acquaintance, as she passed, that she was “a stunning woman.” And he
was not ready to withdraw that opinion now, when he saw her before
him. Having sallied forth to conquer, she had not neglected anything
that would add to her attractiveness in masculine eyes.
It did not take Sibyl long to acquaint Fogg with the nature of her
errand. She was tactfully frank, for she knew how to reach such a man.
“Mr. Fogg, I’m horribly in debt,” she announced, looking him in the
face without the quiver of an eyelash. “I must have money, five
thousand dollars, to be paid to me if I prevent Justin Wingate from
giving his vote to the man the irrigationists want for United States
senator.”
He stared at her. How handsome she was! And what nerve she displayed!
Not one woman in a thousand would have made such a confession, or come
at him in that manner. Her idea appealed to him, if there was anything
in it.
“Why, what can you do?” he asked. He smoothed his limp mustache, and
wondered if his collar set just right; he knew he had forgotten to
turn his reversible cuffs that morning! “What can you do, Mrs. Dudley?
Everything has been done that can be done already. I’ve begged him,
argued with him, prayed with him; and every man on our side who is
supposed to have the least influence with him has done the same thing.
We have even threatened him. Promises, threats, bribes, nothing will
move him.”
Sibyl smiled at him across the little table. She had beautiful teeth.
“It can be done,” she said, with sweet conviction.
So singular and confident was her expression that he was almost
tempted to look into her ungloved right hand to see if she clasped a
poniard. He saw only the flash of her rings.
“Why, what would you do;” he cried, in sudden amazement; “knife him?”
She gave him a glance of scorn, which melted at once into a
captivating smile.
“How absurd you are! Who ever dreamed of such a thing? This isn’t the
Back of Beyond.”
“What would you do?”
“Is it worth five thousand dollars to you if Justin Wingate does not
vote against the cattlemen’s candidate for senator?”
He regarded her thoughtfully, and jingled the watch chain that lay
across his round stomach.
“Yes,” he admitted, “it’s worth every cent of it.”
“Will you agree to pay me that sum if I do keep him from casting that
vote? I am in debt and must have money; five thousand dollars is
little enough; but if you will satisfy me that you will give me that
much money I will prevent that vote.”
“Tell me how you’re going to do it.”
“If I told you I should render my services valueless. You will have to
trust everything to me.”
“You want me to sign a note, or promise; I couldn’t do that. It
wouldn’t be good politics.”
“Then you will have to pay me something in advance. I must be secured
in some manner.”
Lemuel Fogg had never yet bought a pig in a poke, and he did not
intend to begin that doubtful practice now. He questioned Sibyl
Dudley’s ability to do what she said. She was a very charming woman;
he admired her very much; but beautiful women had never the power to
make Lemuel Fogg cut his purse-strings. So he refused, very tactfully
and graciously, as becomes a man who has to refuse anything to a
pretty woman. She saw that it was a refusal, and final.
“What will you do, then?” she asked. “If Justin casts that vote you
lose your senator. I can keep him from casting it.”
“If you will be quite frank with me, we’ll get on faster, Mrs.
Dudley,” Fogg urged. “You could perhaps tell me something of your
plans; I don’t ask to know too much. But five thousand dollars is a
big sum of money.”
“It’s a small sum, Mr. Fogg, for what I propose to do. You don’t
believe I can prevent Justin from voting against your man. I can see
you don’t.”
“Well, I’ll say this much—nobody else could! Everything has been
tried that could be thought of. The fellow is a fool, and it’s
impossible to reason with a fool.”
“Justin is anything but a fool, but he has an uncomfortable lot of
queer notions. I think he must have obtained them from that doctor he
has been living with down in Paradise Valley. I chance to know
something of the character of Doctor Clayton; and while he is, I
suppose, one of the best men in the world, so far as pure goodness
goes, he is as foolish and illogical as a cat, or a woman.”
“Yet you are a woman!”
Fogg was beginning to be comfortable again. He would not have to
advance money to Mrs. Dudley, and having safely weathered that
dangerous cape he felt better.
“All women are not cats or fools. For instance, I am not so foolish as
not to know the value of money, and the value of the ability I happen
to have. You say you won’t advance me anything; what will you do?”
Fogg looked at her and jingled his watch chain.
“Mrs. Dudley, I’m willing to be as generous as you can expect,
conditionally. If that money should be paid I’d have to take a big
part of it out of my own pocket. The rest I could probably raise among
my friends. I will promise you, as faithfully as a promise can be made
that is not put in writing, that if by any means you can induce or
force Justin Wingate to vote for our man for United States senator, or
even to withhold his vote from the opposition, you shall have the five
thousand dollars you named. We could win with his vote, and if he
refused to vote at all I think we still could win. Will that promise
do?”
“Five thousand dollars is not enough, if I am to have no money in
advance. I shall charge you interest; a thousand dollars in interest.”
She laughed lightly. “Give me your promise that if Justin refuses to
cast his vote for United States senator, or votes for your man, I may
draw on you for six thousand dollars through any bank if you do not
pay the money at once, and I will demonstrate my ability to control
him. Six thousand dollars if I succeed, and not a cent if I fail. That
is fair.”
Fogg twisted uneasily in his chair, which was almost too small for his
big body.
“You’re trying to drive a hard bargain. Remember that I shall probably
have to pay the most of that money myself, if you succeed.”
“If you’re as shrewd as I think you are you will not have to pay a
cent of it; you can twist it out of men who are interested in this
matter. I feel sure that your candidate for senator, together with his
friends and the cattlemen, would raise ten thousand dollars, and not
say a word against it, if this thing could be guaranteed. I’ve studied
the papers, Mr. Fogg.”
She laughed again lightly.
“Yes, if it could be guaranteed.”
“This is the same; the money can be raised conditionally; you can get
it together in some bank, with the understanding that it is to be
returned to those who contribute, every cent, if the thing is not
accomplished. And another thing, Mr. Fogg; it will be as well not to
mention my name in the matter. Political secrets must be kept close,
when so many newspaper men are around. If Justin should once get the
idea into his head that a deliberate attempt is being made to control
him everything would be lost.”
“Yes, I agree with you there.” He put his fat hands on the arms of his
chair and settled back heavily. He was running over the list of men
from whom money might be secured. “And I think I can raise the money,
if necessary. Six thousand dollars to you if Justin Wingate does not
vote, or votes for our man; and you can draw on me for it the day
after a United States senator is elected, if I fail to pay it. It’s a
bargain; and I hope I shall have to pay it.”
“You will have to pay it. Pardon me if I say to you that I didn’t come
here on a fool’s errand. I have your promise, and I shall consider it
as binding as a note.”
She arose, still looking at him. For a moment she hesitated, then put
out her ungloved hand. He had scrambled out of his chair, and he took
the hand, giving it a warm pressure.
“Mr. Fogg, now that we know each other, we can help each other!” She
fixed her clear dark eyes upon his. On her upturned face he observed a
single rouge spot, hastily applied, but it did not trouble him; his
thought was that she was very beautiful. The touch of her warm hand
tingled in his large one. “And I hope,” she hesitated in a most
attractive manner, “that we can be very good friends!”
“I should like to, Mrs. Dudley, I should like to; and I’ll get you
that money. You needn’t be afraid that I’ll fail in that. You shall
have the whole of it, if I have to pay it myself. I’m very glad that
you came to see me in this manner, privately. You’re a woman to know.”
He laughed coarsely.
But when she was gone, when her personality no longer enthralled, and
he sat down to think of her visit in cold blood, Lemuel Fogg began to
feel that it might not be a good thing for his bank account if he knew
Mrs. Dudley too intimately.
“But I’m glad she came,” he thought, as he settled back in his chair,
put his feet on the table for comfort, and struck a match to light his
cigar; “we must have that note; or at least we must get it away from
the opposition, if it can be done. I’ll begin a hustle for that money
to-morrow. But I wonder how she expects to control him? By smiling on
him, as she did on me?”