all sides. I will give the money matter careful thought. I'm sure we can
arrange it. I have merely bought my mother's good name with _myself_!”
He stumbled out of the room and went on his way.
“Mother, you and I have some long, long thoughts to busy ourselves with
before we attempt to talk to each other,” said the girl when the two
were alone. “I am going to my room. Please do not disturb me until
to-morrow.”
For an hour Kate Kilgour was a girl once more, sobbing her heart out
against her pillow, stretched upon her bed in abandon of woe, torn by
the bitter knowledge that she was alone in her pitiful fight. She was
more frank with herself in her sorrow than she ever had been before.
She owned to her heart that a few days before even a mother's desperate
plight would hardly have won such a sacrifice as she had made.
She was ready to own that she loved that tall young man of mystery
whose face had refuted the suspicion that he was a mere vagrant. It
was strange--it was unaccountable. But she had ceased to wonder at the
vagaries of love. In her prostration of mental energies and of hope she
confessed to herself that she had loved him.
But now between his face and hers, as she shut her eyes and reproduced
his features, limned in her memory, those fiery words danced--there was
a “play-mamma” who with him had loved the little girl named Rosemarie.
Checking her sobs, she sighed, and her heart surrendered him.
Her sacrifice had been made both easier and yet more difficult.
Then she snuggled close to her pillows and gazed out into the gathering
night, and pondered on the fact that if Walker Farr won his fight in the
state convention that victory put an end to her poor little truce in the
matter of Richard Dodd.
Then she was sure that she had put Walker Farr out of her heart for
ever, because she found herself hoping that he would win. The girl
had not yet grown into full knowledge of the dynamics of a true and
unselfish love--she did not fully know herself.
XXVII
A DICKER FOR A MAN'S SOUL
The populace came first and packed solidly into the galleries of the
great auditorium of Marion city.
For years the state conventions of the dominant party had attracted
but little public attention. They had been simple affairs of routine,
indorsing the men and the principles of the Big Machine. The next
governor had been groomed and announced to the patient people long
months before the date of the convention; platforms protecting the
interests were glued placidly and secretly and brought forth from the
star chamber to be admired; and no delegate was expected or allowed to
joggle a plank or nick the smooth varnish which had been smoothed over
selfish privilege.
But this year came all the people who could pack themselves into
galleries and aisles.
Below on the main floor were more than two thousand delegates. Every
town and city sent the full number accredited. After these men had been
seated the men and women who thronged the corridors and stairways were
allowed to enter and stand in the rear of the great hall.
Strange stories, rumors, predictions, had been running from lip to lip
all over the big commonwealth. It was reported that the throne of the
tyrant was menaced at last by rebellion which was not mere vaporings of
the restless and resentful; organized revolt had appeared, marching in
grim silence, not revealing all its strength, and therefore all the more
ominous.
A military band brayed music unceasingly into the high arches of the
hall. The music served as obbligato for the mighty diapason of men's
voices; the thousands talked as they waited.
The broad platform of the stage was untenanted. The speakers, the
chairman, the clerks, the members of the state committee, did not
appear, though the hour named as the time of calling the meeting to
order arrived and passed.
In an anteroom, so far removed from the main hall that only the dull
rumble of voices and the shredded echoes of the blaring music reached
there, was assembled the state's oligarchy awaiting the pleasure of
Colonel Symonds Dodd.
He sat in a big chair, his squat figure crowding its confines.
The state committee and the rest of his entourage were gathered about
him.
There was a committeeman from every county in the state--the men who
formed the motive cogs of his machine.
One after the other they had reported to him.
And each time a man finished talking the colonel drove a solid fist down
on the arm of the chair and roared: “I say again I don't believe it's as
bad as you figure it. It can't be as bad. Do you tell me that this party
is going to be turned upside down by a kid-glove aristocrat who has
hardly stirred out of his office during this campaign?”
“He has had a chap to do his stirring for him,” stated one of the group.
“A hobo, scum of the rough-scruff, hailing from nowhere! Shown up in our
newspapers as a ditch-digger--a fly-by-night--a nobody! I'm ashamed
of this state committee, coming here and telling me that he has been
allowed to influence anybody.”
“Colonel Dodd, what I'm going to say to you may not sound like politics
as we usually talk it,” declared a committeeman, a gray-haired and
spectacled person who had the grave mien of a student, “and it is not
admitted very often by regular politicians who run with the machine. But
we are up against something which has happened in this queer old world
of ours a good many times. We have had the best organization here in
this state that a machine ever put together. But in American politics
it's always just when the machine is running best that something
happens. Something is dropped into the gear, and it's usually done by
the last man you'd expect to do it. The fellows who are tending the
machine are too busy watching that part of the crowd they think is
dangerous, and then the inconspicuous chap slips one over.”
“I don't want any lecture on politics,” snapped the boss. “Do you mean
to insinuate that that low-lived Farr has put _this_ over on _us_?”
“I have hunted to the bottom of things and I do say so, Colonel Dodd.”
“How in blazes did that fellow ever get any influence? I haven't been
able to believe that he has been accomplishing anything.”
“You ought to have listened a little more closely to us, Colonel,”
insisted the committeeman. “Every once in a while there comes forward
a man whom the people will follow. And he is never the rich man nor the
proud man, but he is one who knows how to reach the hearts of the crowd.
A shrewd politician can get power by building up his machine. And then
some fellow in overalls who has some kind of a God-given quality that
has never been explained yet so that we can understand, smashes into
sight like a comet. It may be his way of talking to men, it may be his
personality--it is more likely a divine spark in him that neither he
himself nor other men understand. But every now and again some humble
chap like that has changed the history of the world, and I reckon it's
pretty easy for such a man to change the politics of a mere state.”
His associates were staring at him and Colonel Dodd was giving him
furious glances. He had spoken with enthusiasm. He broke off suddenly.
“I beg your pardon. I don't mean to go quite so far. But I'm a student
of history and I've read a lot about natural-born leaders.”
“You evidently know more about history than you do about politics,”
growled the colonel. “This whole state committee doesn't seem to know
much politics. If you have allowed that Farr to slime his way around
under cover and do you up in your own counties, I'll see to it that we
have a new state committee.”
“I have an idea that that convention out there will attend to the matter
of a new state committee for us.”
The new speaker's voice was very soft. His nickname in state politics
was “Whispering Saunders.” He was known as being the most artistic
political “pussy-foot” in the party. It was averred that he could put
on rubber boots and run twice around the State House on a fresh fall of
light snow and not leave a track.
“If I'm any kind of a smeller--and I reckon it's admitted that I am,”
purred Saunders, “we are walloped before the start-off in every county
delegation out on that floor.”
“But what has been the matter with you fellows all the time?” blazed the
boss. “Up to now you have been reporting simply that the soreheads were
growling and were not getting together so as to be dangerous.”
“Did you ever try to shovel up soft soap from a cellar floor with a
knitting-needle?” inquired the politician. “That's how it's been in this
case. Every man I talked with was slippery. I know slippery times when
I see 'em. I've been afraid, but I hoped for the best. Now that they
are here, with this convention due to be called to order, they are not
slippery any longer. They don't need to be. I've just been through the
convention hall. They are out and open--and they're against us.”
“That Farr has a proxy from a delegate in the Eleventh Ward and is on
the floor,” stated another.
“But he isn't a voter.”
“He wasn't a little while ago, but he is to-day, Colonel. The board of
registration had to put his name on the books--he has lived here long
enough to become a voter.”
Colonel Dodd glared from face to face. It was plain that he was angered
rather than dismayed; he was like a bull at bay, shaking the pricking
darts out of his shoulders. He took a hasty glance at his watch.
'Twas twenty minutes past the hour appointed for the calling of the
convention. He could hear the distant band still bellowing bravely to
kill time.
A giant of a man stood up--a cool man, rather cynical. He was the
chairman of the state committee.
“I have been waiting till all these gentlemen got the panic worked out
of their systems--or, at least, had said all they could think of about
that panic, Colonel. Now we can go ahead and do real business. We have
not had a battle in this state for a long time, and this panic may be
excusable. They say that the men who are the worst frightened before the
battle do the best fighting after they get into the real scrap. I will
admit that the situation in the state has been a little slippery, as
Saunders has said. And some men have dared to do a lot of loud talking
since they have arrived here in this city. It is so strange a thing that
it has got everybody in a panic. The Chinese are wise--they show dragons
to the enemy, but the dragons are only paper. Wouldn't think the
enemy could be scared that way, eh? But look at this bunch of state
committeemen! A pasteboard 'natural-born leader' set up, and Archer
Converse puffing smoke through the nostrils of that effigy! Gentlemen,
you ought to be ashamed of yourselves!”
Colonel Dodd snorted emphatic approval.
“You are talking like children. Guff and growls can't carry this
convention. That crowd hasn't even got a candidate for governor. Have
you heard one mentioned?”
“I don't suppose they would dare to go as far as that,” said one of
the committeemen. “Governor Harwood, by party usage, is entitled to a
renomination, of course. What they figure on is a new state committee
and a platform that will include reforms.”
“Huh! Yes! So much striped candy! Give it to 'em. Then we've got only
twenty-four men to handle in the way we have always handled state
committees--and even that crowd can't find saints and archangels for
their candidates! And as for a political platform--bah!”
It was the practical politician's caustic estimate of conditions.
Then the chairman joined in, bolstering this supercilious view: “As for
that legislature--how many bills were ever passed in our legislature
over a governor's veto after we had got in our work? We are going to
have a safe man for governor. That band's lungs won't last for ever.
Colonel Dodd, are you ready?”
If revolt and the spirit of resentment and rebellion did exist in that
assemblage, which the magnates of the party faced when they marched
upon the platform, the tumult of applause covered all sinister outward
aspects. The routine of the convention was entered upon: the secretary
read the convention call, the organization was perfected without
protest, and the orator of the day, as president pro tem, a conservative
United States Senator, began his “key-note speech.” It was a document
which had been in proof slips for a week, and which all the party
workers from Colonel Dodd down had read and approved. Therefore, when
Richard Dodd entered from one of the side doors and came tiptoeing
across the platform and touched the colonel's arm and jerked energetic
request for the colonel to follow, the colonel followed, glad of an
excuse to be absent while the Senator fulminated.
Young Dodd's face was flushed and working with excitement. He hurried
his uncle into a small retiring-room and locked the door.
“I've got your man, uncle,” he declared.
“What man?” The colonel was grouchy and indifferent.
“Your man Farr.”
“I don't claim him.”
“But you said you wanted him. You said you wanted to hang him like a
dead crow in the political bean-patch.”
“Merely momentary insanity on my part, Richard. There seems to have been
a little run of it in this state, and when Judge Warren caught it and
gave it to me I talked like a fool, I suppose. But you must remember
that a polecat can give the most level-headed man an almighty start--and
then the level-headed man walks out around the polecat and goes on his
way very calmly.”
“But don't you consider that Farr is a dangerous man?”
The colonel held up his pudgy hand and snapped a finger into his palm.
“He amounts to that in front of the muzzle of a ten-inch gun.”
“But I went ahead after what you said. I have put out time and money.
I hired a detective. I figured I was doing a good job for the machine.”
Young Dodd's voice trembled and disappointment was etched into his
anxious features.
“Well, what have you found out?”
“I can't tell you. It's another man's secret, and he's got to have cash
or a guaranty before he'll come across with it.”
“What's the price?”
Richard Dodd exhibited confusion and hesitation. “I made some promises
to him, uncle, because I know what has been paid in the past for things
which didn't seem to be as important as this--judging from the way you
and the judge talked. So I--well, I--”
“Price, price, I say! I'm used to hearing money talked,” harked the
colonel. “I've got to get back into that convention. Out with it!” He
made two steps toward the door.
“Five thousand!” blurted the young man.
Colonel Dodd whirled and whipped off his eye-glasses so as to give his
nephew the full effect of his contemptuous fury.
“Why, you young lunatic, I wouldn't pay that price if they were going
to elect Farr the governor of this state, and make him a present of the
Consolidated, and you could bring proof that he is the reincarnation of
Judas Iscariot.”
A roar of voices and a thunder of thudding feet announced that the
Senator had finished.
Colonel Dodd hurried away.
The nephew found Detective Mullaney in the alley behind the auditorium,
and the young man's air of discomfiture and the sagging shake of his
head told the story of his errand without words.
“If they're getting too mean in their old age to hand me a fair price
for a good job then let 'em get licked,” declared the detective. “You
stuck to our original figure of five hundred dollars, didn't you?”
The young man looked over the detective's head and lied. “Five
hundred--that's what I told him.”
“And he wouldn't consider it?”
“Something has braced him so that he isn't afraid of the man any longer.
Perhaps he has got a line of his own on him. It doesn't seem to be worth
anything any longer. Suppose you tell me just who he is and what about
him?”
“Not on your life!” retorted Detective Mullaney, sharply. “I ain't
saying anything against your family, of course, but when I give a Dodd
something for nothing--even a hint--it will be when I'm talking in my
sleep and don't know it. But I'll tell you what I _will_ do. Give me my
two hundred and fifty and I'll hand you the whole proposition and you
may go ahead and make what you can of it. I swear to you again that I've
got it on him. Seeing what he did to _you_, you ought to feel that the
story is worth that much of a gamble even for private purposes.”
Dodd hesitated, put his hand in his pocket--then withdrew it empty.
“No, Mullaney. What's the good? He says Farr isn't dangerous, and has
turned down the whole thing flat. I may as well keep my money. If you
want to sit on the platform, come along with me. I can find a place for
you.”
Detective Mullaney followed willingly, for he knew that people were
fairly piling over one another in an attempt to get into the hall by the
main entrance.
He sat down in one of the square chairs on the platform and searched
with his sharp little eyes until he found the face of Walker Farr in the
terraced rows of humanity. It was not difficult to locate him, for
his physique made him loom among other men and he was posted under the
banner which marked the location of Moosac County.
The detective found the eyes of the young man directed toward the
gallery with such intentness and for so long a time that he endeavored
to trace that earnest scrutiny to its object. The detective was not
exactly certain, but he finally picked out a very handsome young lady
who occupied a front chair in the balcony; she seemed to be returning
the young man's intent regard.
“You have the reputation of knowing all the pretty girls in the state,”
whispered Mullaney, drawing Dodd's attention with a nudge. “Who is that
up there in the gallery, front row, fifth from the aisle; blue feather,
and so handsome she hurts my eyes?”
To have his attention drawn thus rudely to the one girl in all the world
gave Dodd a sensation which he did not relish--and his face showed his
astonished resentment.
“That is Miss Kilgour, who used to be my uncle's secretary. Why do you
want to know who she is?”
“Because there seems to be something very especial on between her and
the man we thought was worth five hundred dollars to us.”
“That young lady, Mr. Mullaney, is engaged to me,” stated Dodd, acridly.
“You'd better drop the topic.”
But he did not display either the joy or the pride of the accepted
suitor as he looked up at her.
“I'll simply say that you're a mighty lucky chap and I congratulate
you,” returned Mr. Mullaney, hiding his confusion by getting very
busy with newspaper clippings and papers which he drew from his breast
pocket.
The detective was wholly unconscious of the irony of that remark. But it
brought a flush of shame to Dodd's cheek, for the sorrow and sting and
ignominy of that part which he had played had not departed from his soul
nor did even the fervor of his passion for her help him forgive himself;
he stared at her guiltily as the thief gloats over his loot and is
conscious of his degradation without feeling sufficient contrition to
give up the object he has stolen.
For he remembered with fresh and poignant recollection the circumstances
under which that girl had given her promise to him so recently: she had
stood over a mother who had abased herself before them, had cast herself
down and had writhed and screamed and implored her to consent; and the
mother was driven to do this by the lash of his threats. He had stood
there and demanded, and the woman on the floor had confessed her
frailty, owned to her misdeeds, acknowledged her debt, and had
frantically begged her daughter to sacrifice herself.
The girl had given her “Yes,” paying the debt with herself; but her eyes
had been wide and dry and her face was white and set and she had looked
past the man to whom she promised herself when she had murmured that
promise.
Dodd swept cold sweat from his forehead as he remembered; he found
almost the same expression now on her face as she gazed down on Walker
Farr, who stared back at her anxiously, perceiving a grief that he could
not understand.
In that vast assemblage those three, thus wordlessly, no one marking
them, fought a tragic battle of hopeless love with their eyes.
Detective Mullaney pored over his papers. “By gad,” he mused, “I haven't
kept my books all this time for nothing. I know my card. I've got him
right--it's dead open and shut. But I swear he doesn't look the part
he played, even if the description does fit him. Well, law is law! If
I can't sell him to Symonds Dodd, I'll find out how much those will pay
who do want him.”
The routine of the great convention had been proceeding.
“And the gentleman from Danton, Mr. Gray, moves that we do now proceed
with the nomination of a candidate for governor,” intoned the chairman
in sing-song tones.
XXVIII
THE MAN WHO WAS NOT AFRAID
One after the other, dignified and decorous, three men of the Big
Machine, representing three of the large counties of the state, came
upon the platform and put in nomination the name of Governor Harwood to
succeed himself.
These speakers had been carefully selected. They were elderly
gentlemen whose reputations, tones, and demeanor bespoke safe and sane
conservatism. They took occasion to rebuke the new spirit of unrest
in the old party, and their tremolo notes of protest were extremely
effective. While these men talked, a listener was compelled to feel that
rebellion against the established order of things could only be rank
sedition; for many years have these arts of oratory been employed to
appeal to the average man's party loyalty; voters have listened and
have been ashamed to revolt--as a son dutifully bows his head under a
father's reprimand and responds to a father's appeal--for, after all,
in matters where appeal is made to loyalty the human emotions are not so
very complex.
The elderly gentlemen put great stress on the fact that not in twenty
years had a faithful governor been refused the honor of renomination for
a second term. Would their convention deny that compliment to Governor
Harwood? It was the same appeal that had been made for twoscore years
in order to perpetuate the dynasty of gubernatorial figureheads who had
obeyed the ring's orders.
Walker Farr heard _sotto voce_ murmurings of men in his vicinity. They
were men who had joined the new revolt and had stood bravely enough for
a change in county political managers. But these men revealed that
they were timorous about altering long party custom. They said, one
to another, that it would be going too far to refuse renomination to
Governor Harwood. It might split their party so widely that the rival
political party would be able to carry the state--and that would never
do.
Farr was in no wise surprised to hear these murmurings.
He had sounded men before that convention as he had traveled about the
state.
He had found them ready to begin house-cleaning in the smaller affairs
of county management, and by assault on the little wheels of the gear
of the machine which had so long ground political grist; but they
were unwilling to tempt fate by venturing on such a general overturn as
putting up for governor a man who had not been selected and groomed for
high office during the accustomed term of apprenticeship--legislature,
senate, and council.
He realized how well the great ring had intrenched itself in absolute
power by appealing to conservatism in matters of safe men for high
office. Safe men meant those who protected the big interests and saw
that no raids were made on capital--no matter how many abuses capital
might be fostering.
Mumble and grumble all about him, and men's faces showing that they were
agreeing with the tremolo appeals of the elderly orators!
Even the Honorable Archer Converse, his legal cautiousness governing his
opinion, knowing the temper of conditions in his state, had emphatically
discouraged Farr when the young man had timidly questioned him in regard
to the advisability of securing a candidate for governor outside the
ring's dynasty.
Mr. Converse's discouragement of such hopes would have been even more
emphatic had he ever dreamed that this apostle whom he had sent out into
the field was coddling the audacious hope that Mr. Converse himself by
some miracle might be put into the governor's chair.
The orators proceeded, one after the other. They were applauded. They
retired.
Walker Farr was oppressed by the lugubrious conviction that he was the
only man in that great assemblage who felt enough of the zealot's fire
to be willing to put all his hopes to the test.
He looked at the faces on the platform. There sat Colonel Dodd, wearing
his expression assumed for that day and date--smug political hypocrisy.