Archer Converse was coming down the steps from his club, erect, crisp,
immaculate, dignified--tapping his cane against the stones.
XVIII
CORRALING A CONVERT
Mr. Converse bestowed only a careless glance at the stranger who was
waiting at the foot of the club-house steps.
The young man accosted him, not obsequiously, but frankly.
“I know you always take a turn in the park at this hour, Mr. Converse. I
beg your pardon, but may I walk for a few steps with you?”
“Why do you want to walk with me?”
“It's a matter--”
“I never discuss business on the street, sir. Come to my office
to-morrow.”
He marched on and Farr went along behind him.
“You heard?” demanded the attorney.
“I heard.” Farr replied very respectfully, but he kept on.
He had rushed away from the girl and had come face to face with Mr.
Converse, his mind utterly barren of plan or resource. That interim on
which he had counted as a time in which he might devise ways and means
had been so crowded with happenings that all consideration of plans in
regard to Archer Converse had been swept from his mind.
At all events, he had rendered a service in that time; he had made good
use of that forty-five minutes--that reflection comforted him even while
he dizzily wondered what he was to do now.
That service had demanded sacrifice from him--why not demand something
from that service? An idea, sudden, brazen, undefendable, even
outrageous, popped into his head. He had no time for sensible planning.
Mr. Converse was glancing about with the air of a citizen who would like
to catch the eye of a policeman.
“I know all about you, Mr. Converse, even if you know nothing about me.
I'm making a curious appeal--it's to your chivalry!”
That was appeal sufficiently novel, so the demeanor of Mr. Converse
announced, to arrest even the attention of a gentleman who usually
refused to allow the routine of his life to be interrupted by anything
less than an earthquake. He halted and fronted this stranger.
“A man who wears that,” proceeded Farr, indicating the rosette of the
Military Order of the Loyal Legion in the lapel of Mr. Converse's coat,
“and wears it because it came to him by inheritance from General Aaron
Converse is bound to listen to that appeal.”
“Explain, sir.”
“Do you know a Richard Dodd who is the nephew of Colonel Dodd?”
“I do, sir. You aren't asking me to assist him, are you? I will have
nothing to do with him--no help from me!”
“Just a moment--wait one moment! Mr. Converse, do you know a man named
Dennis Burke who has been in prison for ballot frauds?”
“I helped send him there, sir. Are you reciting the rogues' roster to
me?”
“Richard Dodd has dressed Burke up as a parson and is trying to force a
young woman into a marriage. I haven't time to tell you how I happened
to know about this affair--but it is in Rose Alley and there's no time
to waste.”
“A preposterous yarn.”
“I have just come from that house.”
“You're a young man of muscle--why didn't you stop it?”
“The girl's mother is there, backing Dodd. Mr. Converse, the cause needs
a man like you--a man of law, of standing, of influence. I appeal to you
to follow me.”
“A moment--a moment! I scent a ruse. I don't know you. Are you a decoy
for blackmailers or robbers?” he inquired, bluntly.
Farr took off his hat and stood before the Honorable Archer Converse,
his strange, slow, winning smile dawning on his face.
“I beg your pardon for interrupting your stroll,” he said, gently. “I
hope you'll look at me! You may see, perhaps, that you're in error.
I'll go back and kill Dodd--and come to your office to-morrow--on
business--engaging you as counsel for the defense.”
“Lead the way to that house,” snapped Mr. Converse. The attitude of
Farr, his forbearance, his refraining from further solicitation, his
frank demeanor, won out for him. “I'm sometimes a little hasty in
my remarks,” acknowledged Mr. Converse in the tone of one who felt
chastened. “Are you a new-comer to our city?” he continued as they
hurried away. “You must be. I should certainly have remembered you if I
had ever seen you before.” It was an indirect compliment--a gentleman's
careful approach to an apology.
The young man did not reply. He had conceived for this stately man a
sudden hero-worship. What Citizen Drew had told him was added to his own
instinct in matters of the understanding of a personality. He did not
dare to stop and consider to what despicable extent he was lying to
his victim. He knew if he stopped to think he would quit. Now the whole
affair seemed a crazy thing. Did even his proposed ends justify this
procedure?
“There's a short cut through Sanson Street,” stammered Farr, the sense
of his own iniquity increasing in the same ratio in which his respect
and admiration grew. The honorable gentleman traveled along at a brisk
jog, evidently desiring to show his apologetic mood by exhibiting
confidence in his guide.
And Farr, stealing side glances at him, was more self-accusatory, more
abashed. He cherished the hope that they would be able to anticipate
the departure of Dodd and the confederates from the cottage. It was not
clear to him just how he would make the incident serve, anyway. He was
conscious that he had grasped at any opportunity which would open the
ears of the Honorable Archer Converse to a person who had accosted him
on the street. Finding somebody in the house would, at least, stamp his
story with verity even if it served no purpose in the main intent of
Farr's efforts.
But on a well-lighted street corner the young man halted suddenly.
“It's no use,” he informed the astonished Mr. Converse. “Conscience has
tripped me. I can't do it.”
“Do you mean to intimate that you have been tricking me, sir?”
“I mean to say, Mr. Converse, that I had proposed to take a half-hour or
so and think up some method of honestly and properly interesting you in
a matter which is very dear to me--a public matter, sir. But here is how
I spent that half-hour.”
Frankly, simply, convincingly he related to his amazed listener the full
story of what he had found in the cottage in Rose Alley.
“And therefore I had no time to ponder on my business with you--I simply
turned from the young lady, and there you were, sir, coming down the
club steps. I did the very best I could on short notice--but what I did
was very crude. I apologize. I suppose, under the circumstances, I may
as well say 'Good-night'!” He raised his hat.
But there was something in all this which piqued Converse's curiosity.
“Wait one moment. This is getting to be interesting.”
A rather hazy conviction began to assure Farr that possibly chance had
dealt a better stroke for him than well-considered planning. It was
surely something to know that the honorable gentleman was interested.
“If you had had time to think out a method of approaching me--Let me
see, your name is--”
“Farr.”
“Mr. Farr, supposing I had been amenable to your suggestions, what is it
you wanted of me?”
“I wanted you to attend a public meeting,” blurted the young man. “They
are men who need help--they need--”
“That's sufficient,” snapped Converse. “I am not in politics. I do
not address public meetings. Mr. Farr, you would have wasted your time
planning. Absolutely!”
“But is there not some appeal that--”
“Useless--useless, sir.” He tapped his cane, and his tones showed
irritation. He whirled on his heels. “It is decidedly evident that
you are a stranger in these parts, sir. On that account I forgive your
presumption.”
At that moment a jigger-wagon rumbled to a halt near them. The corner
light had revealed them to the driver.
“Mr. Farr,” called the man, “it hasn't taken long for the news of what
you did at the meeting to-night to travel around among the boys. And we
ain't going to let you get ahead of us, sir.”
“The more, the merrier, in a good cause,” said Farr; but he was staring
regretfully at the back of Mr. Converse, who had begun his retreat.
“I want to tell you I'm on the executive committee of the State
Teamsters Union, Mr. Farr. I've been talking the matter up and I can
promise you that the union as a body will vote to lend horses and men to
carry your spring-water free gratis. And I hope that gent who's starting
up-town where the dudes are will tell 'em that there are honest men
enough left to protect the poor folks from that poison water him and his
rich friends are pumping out of the river to us.”
The Honorable Archer Converse halted his departure very suddenly.
“You are not referring to me, are you, my man?”
“I am if you're tied up with that Consolidated Water Company bunch,”
stated the unterrified member of the proletariat.
Mr. Converse retraced his steps. He shook his cane at the driver.
“I want to inform you very distinctly, sir, that I am _not_ interested
in the Consolidated.”
“Dawson, apologize to this gentleman,” Farr admonished the driver.
“I'm sorry I said anything,” muttered the man. “But all dudes look alike
to me,” he told himself under his breath.
Mr. Converse appeared to be considerably disturbed by the humble
citizen's sneer in regard to the Consolidated matter. He addressed
himself to Farr.
“I have been touched on a point where I am very sensitive,” he informed
the young man. “I do not condone the policies of the Consolidated in
regard to their control of franchises. Their system of operation has
introduced a bad element into our finance and politics. I would be sorry
to be misunderstood by the people of this state.”
“I hope you will not be misunderstood, sir,” averred Farr, with
humility.
“In order to show you my stand in the matter and so that you may correct
any misunderstanding among your friends in these quarters,” proceeded
Mr. Converse, stiffly, “I will inform you that I am taking the case of
the citizens' syndicate of Danburg on appeal up to our highest court.
We hope to prove criminal conspiracy. We hope to show up some of the
corruption in the state. That is why I have gone into the case.”
“I thank you for informing me. I have been trying to fight the
Consolidated in my own humble way.”
The eminent lawyer came closer and was promptly interested.
“I am in search of information of all kinds, sir. Kindly explain.”
Eliminating himself as much as possible, Farr described the operations
of the Co-operative Spring Water Association. But he could not eliminate
the man on the box-seat of the jigger-wagon. When Farr had finished his
brief explanation that loyal admirer gave in some enthusiastic testimony
in regard to the man who had devised the plan and had sacrificed his
time in efforts to extend the system. He kept on until Farr checked him.
“I will say, Mr. Converse, before you leave, that I'd like to have you
carry away a right opinion of me. I was not trying to drag you to a mere
political gathering. There are some poor men assembled just now in this
quarter who need a sympathetic listener and a little good advice. They
are also trying to get justice from the Consolidated and all the general
oppression it represents.”
“Where are those men?” asked Converse, after a pause during which he
wrinkled his brows and tapped his cane.
Farr pointed down the street. Not far away a low-hung transparency
heralded “The Square Deal Club.”
Mr. Converse gazed in that direction and hesitated a few moments longer.
“You assure me that it's not a mere political rally?”
“I do, sir!”
Then the son of General Converse gallantly extended his arm.
“I'll be glad to be escorted by you, Mr. Farr,” he said. “Now that
I understand this thing a bit better, I am going to break one of my
rules.” As they walked along he remarked: “A man's affairs are sometimes
directed and controlled for him in a most singular fashion. Little
things change preconceived notions very suddenly.”
“They do, sir,” agreed Walker Farr.
XIX
CONSCIENCE ENLISTING A RECRUIT
A man who stood at the head of the stairs, an outpost, saw them coming
and ran and opened a door ahead of them. The door admitted to a hall
which was packed with men who were ranged on settees and stood in the
aisles and at the sides of the big room.
“Make way for the Honorable Archer Converse,” shrieked their _avant
courier_, excitedly.
“Three cheers for the Honorable Archer Converse,” called a voice, and
all the men came on to their feet and yelled lustily.
The distinguished guest climbed upon the platform--Farr close at
his heels. The young man placed a chair for the lawyer and remained
standing. He raised his hand to command silence.
“This is rather unexpected, boys. But this distinguished man happened
to be passing our hall to-night and has dropped in on us in a purely
informal manner. It's a great honor, and I want to say to him for all of
us that the old Square Deal Club is mighty grateful. I ask you to rise,
gentlemen of the club.”
All came to their feet again.
“Bow your heads and for thirty seconds of deep silence pay your respect
and veneration to the memory of our great war governor, General Aaron
Converse.”
The Honorable Archer Converse looked forth over those bowed and bared
heads. The most of them were gray heads, and toil-worn hands were
clasped in front of those men. And when at last the faces were raised to
his there was an appealing earnestness in their gaze which touched him
poignantly.
“Boys, the son of that great man is present. How will you express your
admiration and respect for him?”
They cheered again tumultuously.
Farr walked to the edge of the platform.
“It is kind and generous of Mr. Converse to consent to step in here for
a few moments this evening. I will leave the meeting in his hands.”
There was a hush for a moment. Then the guest carried his chair to the
extreme front edge of the platform.
“I don't know just what sort of meeting this is--I have not been fully
informed,” he said, very crisply. “But I want it distinctly understood
that I am not here to make any speech. Your faces indicate that you are
very much in earnest in regard to the business you are met to consider.
I am assured that this is no mere political rally?”
“No,” somebody replied.
“I'm glad of that. I am not in politics. The political mess grows to be
nastier every year. But what are you here for? Come, now! Come! Let's
talk it over.” He was a bit brusque, but his tone was kindly.
A man who stood up in the middle of the hall was rather shabby in his
attire, but he had the deep eyes of one who thinks.
“Honored sir,” he said, “I don't stand up as one presuming to speak for
all the rest. But I have talked with many men. I know what some of us
want. We don't expect that laws or leaders will make lazy men get
ahead in the world or that victuals can be legislated into the cupboard
without a man gets out and hustles for 'em. I have worked at a bench
ever since I was fourteen. I expect to work there until I drop out. I
don't want any political office. I couldn't fill one. But why is it that
the only men who get into office are the kind who turn around and
get rich selling off property which belongs to all of us--I mean the
franchises for this, that, and the other?” He sat down.
A thin man in the front row got up.
“Honorable Archer Converse, one franchise that was given away by those
men years ago was the right to furnish water to this city. A private
concern got hold of that franchise. It holds the right to-day. It saves
money by pumping its water out of the Gamonic River. Saves money and
wastes lives. The Board of Health's reports show that there were eleven
hundred cases of typhoid fever in this city last year. In my family
my mother and two of my children died. I shiver every time I touch a
tap--but spring-water that can be depended on costs us at the grocer's
a dollar for a five-gallon carboy--and my wages are only ten dollars a
week. There are lakes twenty miles from this city. Pure water there for
all of us! But every tap drips sewage from the Gamonic River. Haven't we
got any leaders who will make that water company pump health instead of
death?”
“They sent 'Tabulator' Burke up for ballot frauds,” said a voter who
stood up in a far corner. “But anybody in this city understands well
enough that the judge who sent him to state prison knew who the real
chaps were, knew how much the real ones paid 'Tabulator' to take the
whole blame. And the governor knows it all and has just reappointed that
judge.”
The Honorable Archer Converse sat very straight in his chair and
listened to those men. He continued to sit straight and listened to
others. The men dealt in no diatribe. There was no raving, there was no
anarchistic sentiments. They arose, uttered their grievances gloomily
but without passion, and sat down.
One elderly man stood up and raised both hands.
“I came across the sea to this country, sir. I came because I could
have my little share in the government where I paid taxes and labored--I
could vote here. It's the only public privilege I have. But, O God, give
us some one to vote for!”
“I sympathize with your feelings,” replied Mr. Converse. “But you are
talking to the wrong man. I'm not in politics.”
“By the gods, you will be if my nerve only holds out,” Farr told
himself.
Another man sprang to his feet. He spoke quietly, but his very
repression made him more effective.
“What's the good of voting till men like you do get into politics,
Mr. Converse, and give us leaders who will use their power to help the
people who voted for them? I'm sick of voting. I'm teamed up to the
polls by ward workers--and I know just why those men are in the game and
who they're working for. What do you suppose Colonel Dodd cares which
side carries this city, or which side carries the state? He and his
crowd stand to win, whatever party gets in. You can't beat 'em. Business
is business, no matter what politics may be! The city money is wasted
just the same, the policy game is let run for the benefit of the rich
men who back it, all the grafts go right on. You can't fool me any
longer. They stir us poor chaps up at election-time, we rush to the
polls and vote, and sometimes think we are accomplishing something. But
what we're doing is simply boosting out some fellow who has made his
pile and putting in another who wants office so that he can fill his
own pockets by selling our common rights out to the same men. I say, you
can't beat it!”
The Honorable Archer Converse seemed to find his position on the
platform uncomfortable. He rose suddenly and stepped down on the floor.
He went among the men. He grasped the hands that were outstretched to
him. He realized that he had scant encouragement for these men. The
meeting had given him new light. He knew considerable about the old
days, and in the old days of politics men flocked to rallies. They
harkened humbly to speeches from their leaders, and swallowed the
sugar-coated facts, and listened to bands, and joined the torch-light
parades, and voted according to party lines, and thought they had done
well; the surface of things was nicely slicked over.
He understood that out of the ease with which the mob could be herded,
with others doing their thinking for them, had grown politics as a
business--with the big interests dominating both parties--and no one
realized how it had all come about better than Converse. This new
spirit, however, rather surprised him, for he had been keeping aloof
from politics. These men who crowded about him were not mere dumb,
driven voters in the mass--they were individuals who were thinking, who
were demanding, who were seeking a leader that would consider them as
citizens to be served, not chattels to be sold to the highest bidder.
His keen lawyer's insight understood all this!
“I'm a butcher down in the stock-yards, Mr. Converse,” said one man,
who pressed forward. “We've got trained bulls there who tole the cattle
along into the slaughter-pens. I've got tired of being a steer in
politics and following these old trained bulls.”
Converse worked his way through the press to the door, Farr at his
heels.
When they were on the street the honorable gentleman turned sharply
toward the Boulevard.
“I haven't any spirit or taste to-night for moonlight in the park, sir!
A nice trick you played on me.”
“I wanted you to get a first-hand notion of a state of affairs, Mr.
Converse.”
“But you ought to understand my temperament better--you ought to know
it's going to stick in my mind, worry me, vex me, set me to seeking for
remedies. It's just as if I'd been retained on a case. I feel almost
duty-bound to pitch in.”
“It's strange how a man gets pulled into a thing sometimes--into
something he had no idea of meddling with,” philosophized Farr, blandly.
“That's the way it has happened in my case.”
“It has, eh?” demanded Mr. Converse, sharply. He had tacitly accepted
the young man's companionship for the walk back to the Boulevard. “Now,
look here! Just who are you?”
“My name is Farr and I'm nothing.”
“You needn't bluff me--you're a politician--a candidate for something.”
“I'm not even a voter in this state. It's men like you, sir, who ought
to be candidates for the high offices.”
“My sainted father trained me to respect self-sacrifice, Mr. Farr. But
for a clean man to try to accomplish things for the people in politics
these days isn't self-sacrifice--it's martyrdom. The cheap politicians
heap the fagots, the sneering newspapers light the fire and keep blowing
it with their bellows, and the people stand around and seem to show a
sort of calm relish in watching the operation. And when it is all over
not a bit of good has been done.”
“I'm afraid I have wasted an evening for you, sir. I'm sorry. I hoped
the troubles of those men, when you heard them at first hand, would
interest you.”
“Interest me! Confound it all, you have wrecked my peace of mind! I knew
it all before. But I'm selfish, like almost everybody else. I kept
away where I couldn't hear about these things. Now, if I sleep soundly
to-night I'll be ashamed to look up at my father's portrait when I walk
into my office to-morrow morning. Why didn't you have better sense
than to coax me into your infernal meeting?” He rapped his cane angrily
against the curbstone as he strode on. “And the trouble with me is,”
continued Mr. Converse, with much bitterness, “I know the conditions are
such in this state that a meeting like that can be assembled in every
city and town--and the complaints will be just and demand help.
But there's no organization--it's only blind kittens miauling. It's
damnable!”
“But this is the kind of country where some mighty quick changes can be
made when the people do get their eyes open,” suggested the young man.
Mr. Converse merely grunted, tapping his cane more viciously.
They were on the frontier of the Eleventh Ward now. The brighter lights
of the avenues of up-town blazed before them.
“Then you will not go into politics?” inquired Farr.
“I'd sooner sail for India with a cargo of hymn-books and give
singing-lessons to Bengal tigers.”
“Good night, sir,” said Farr. He halted on the street corner which
marked the boundary of the ward.
“Good night, sir!” replied Mr. Converse, striding on.
The young man watched him out of sight. He heard the angry clack of the
cane on the stones long after the Honorable Archer Converse had turned
the next corner.
“Maxim in the case of a true gentleman,” mused Farr: “tap his conscience
on the shoulder, point your finger at the enemy, say nothing, simply
stand back and give conscience plenty of elbow-room--it needs no help.
There, by the grace of God, goes the next governor of this state.”
XX
CONSIDERATION: ONE DAUGHTER
On the morning following his discomfiture Richard Dodd posted himself
in a little tobacco-shop opposite the Trelawny Apartment-house. Lurking
behind cigar-boxes in the window, he held the door of the house under
surly espionage. It was plain to the shopkeeper that “the gent had made
a night of it.” Dodd's eyes were heavy, his face was flushed, and he
lighted one cigarette after another with shaky hands.