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diff --git a/16573-h/16573-h.htm b/16573-h/16573-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7fbf410 --- /dev/null +++ b/16573-h/16573-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14822 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /><title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush, by Francis Lynde.</title> + + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + img {border: 0;} + + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + .left {text-align: left;} + + .padtop {padding-top: 2em;} + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style></head> + + +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush, by Francis Lynde + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush + +Author: Francis Lynde + +Release Date: August 21, 2005 [EBook #16573] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HONORABLE SENATOR SAGE-BRUSH *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Stacy Brown Thellend and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<p><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></p> +<p> +<a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a> +</p><h2>THE HONORABLE +SENATOR SAGE-BRUSH</h2> +<p><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a></p> +<p class="figcenter"><a href="./images/1.jpg"><img src="./images/1-t.jpg" alt="He's taken our retainer! snapped the vice-president" +title="He's taken our retainer! snapped the vice-president" /></a></p><p class="figcenter"> +"He's taken our retainer!" snapped the vice-president</p> +<hr /> + +<p><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a></p> +<h3>THE HONORABLE</h3> +<h3>SENATOR SAGE-BRUSH</h3> +<p><br /></p> +<h3>BY</h3> +<p><br /></p> +<h3>FRANCIS LYNDE</h3> + +<p class="center">CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS<br /> +NEW YORK : : : : : 1913<br /> +</p> +<p><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a></p> +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1913, by</span><br /> +<br /> +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS<br /> +<br /> +</p> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p class="center">Published September, 1913</p> +<p><br /></p> +<p class="figcenter"><a href="./images/2.png"><img src="./images/2-th.png" alt="colophon" /></a></p> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p><br /><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a></p> +<p class="padtop">TO MR. GEORGE ADY</p> + + +<p>My Regius Professor in the School of +Western Railroading, and himself a keen +observer, <i>in situ</i>, of the conditions which +I have herein sought to portray, this +book is most affectionately inscribed.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a>The Author.</span><br /> +</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a></p> + + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p class="center"> +<a href="#I"><b>CHAPTER I, <span class="smcap">Because Patricia Said "No"</span></b></a><br /> +<a href="#II"><b>CHAPTER II, <span class="smcap">The Boss</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#III"><b>CHAPTER III, <span class="smcap">The Highbinders</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#IV"><b>CHAPTER IV, <span class="smcap">A False Gallop of Memories</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#V"><b>CHAPTER V, <span class="smcap">At Wartrace Hall</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#VI"><b>CHAPTER VI, <span class="smcap">On the Wing of Occasions</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#VII"><b>CHAPTER VII, <span class="smcap">A Battle Royal</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII, <span class="smcap">The Queen's Gambit</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#IX"><b>CHAPTER IX, <span class="smcap">The Rank and File</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#X"><b>CHAPTER X, <span class="smcap">In the Herbarium</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XI"><b>CHAPTER XI, <span class="smcap">The Great Game</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XII"><b>CHAPTER XII, <span class="smcap">A Well-Spring in the Desert</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII, <span class="smcap">The Liegeman</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV, <span class="smcap">Barriers Invisible</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XV"><b>CHAPTER XV, <span class="smcap">Sword-Play</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI, <span class="smcap">The Safe-Blower</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII, <span class="smcap">On the Knees of the High Gods</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII, <span class="smcap">The Chasm</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX, <span class="smcap">A Cog in the Wheel</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XX"><b>CHAPTER XX, <span class="smcap">A Stone for Bread</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI, <span class="smcap">The Under-Dog</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII, <span class="smcap">The Iconoclast</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXIII"><b>CHAPTER XXIII, <span class="smcap">A Cry in the Night</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXIV"><b>CHAPTER XXIV, <span class="smcap">Field Headquarters</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXV"><b>CHAPTER XXV, <span class="smcap">Blood and Iron</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXVI"><b>CHAPTER XXVI, <span class="smcap">Apples of Gold</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXVII"><b>CHAPTER XXVII, <span class="smcap">In Which Patricia Drives</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXVIII"><b>CHAPTER XXVIII, <span class="smcap">The Gossiping Wires</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXIX"><b>CHAPTER XXIX, <span class="smcap">At Shonoho Inn</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXX"><b>CHAPTER XXX, <span class="smcap">The Reckoning</span> </b></a><br /> +<a href="#XXXI"><b>CHAPTER XXXI, <span class="smcap"><i>À la Bonne Heure</i> </span> </b></a><br /> + +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<p><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_HONORABLE_SENATOR" id="THE_HONORABLE_SENATOR"></a>THE HONORABLE SENATOR<br /> +SAGE-BRUSH</h2> + +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + +<h3>BECAUSE PATRICIA SAID "NO"</h3> + + +<p>Some one was giving a dinner dance at the country +club, and Blount, who was a week-end guest of +the Beverleys, was ill-natured enough to be resentful. +What right had a gay and frivolous world to +come and thrust its light-hearted happiness upon +him when Patricia had said "No"? It was like +bullying a cripple, he told himself morosely, an<a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a>d +when he had read the single telegram which had +come while he was at dinner he begged Mrs. Beverley's +indulgence and went out to find a chair in a +corner of the veranda where the frivolities had not +as yet intruded.</p> + +<p>It was a North Shore night like that in which +Shakespeare has mingled moon-shadows with the +gossamer fantasies of the immortal "Dream." +Though the dance was in-doors, the trees on the +lawn and the road-fronting verandas of the club-house +were hung with festoons of Chinese lanterns. +At the carriage-entrance smart automobiles were +coming and going, and one of them, with the dust +of the Boston parkways on its running-gear, brought +the guests of honor—three daughters of a Western +senator lately home from their summer abroad.</p> + +<p>Blount knew neither the honorers nor the honored +ones, and had resolutely refused the chance +offered him by Mrs. Beverley to amend his ignorance. +For Patricia's "No" was not yet twenty-four +hours old, and since it had changed the stars +in their courses for Patricia's lover, the cataclysm +was much too recent to postulate anything like a +return of the heavenly bodies to their normal orbits.</p> + +<p>Not that Blount put it th<a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a>at way, either to Mrs. +Beverley or to himself. He was a level-eyed, square-shouldered +young man of an up-to-date world, and +the stock from which he sprang was prosaic and +practical rather than poetic or sentimental. But +the fact remained, and when he sat back in his +corner absently folding the lately received telegram +into a narrow spill and scowling moodily down upon +the coming and going procession of motor-cars he +was unconsciously giving a very life-like imitation +of the disappointed lover the world over.</p> + +<p>It was thus, and apparently by the merest chance, +that Gantry found him; a chance because the Winnebasset +club-house is spacious and the dinner dance +minimized the hazards of a meeting between two +unattached men who were merely transient guests. +But the railroad man at least was unfeignedly glad.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't it beat the dickens what a little world +this is?" he exclaimed, with a true bromidian disregard +for the outworn and the axiomatic. "Of +course, I knew you were in or around Boston somewhere, +but to run slap up against you here, when +there seemed to be nothing in it for me but to be +bored stiff—" He stopped short, finding it difficult +to be shiftily insincere with as old a friend as Evan +Blount. But in the nature of things it was baldly +impossible to tell Blount that the meeting was not +<a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a>accidental.</p> + +<p>"Pull up a chair and sit down," said Blount, not +too ungraciously, considering his just cause to be +more ungracious. "I was thinking of you a little +while ago, Dick. I saw your name in the list of +Transcontinental representatives to the traffic meeting +in Boston, and—well, at the present moment +I'm not sure but you are the one man in the world +I wanted most to meet."</p> + +<p>"Say! that sounds pretty good to me," laughed +Gantry, settling himself comfortably in a lazy-chair +and feeling in his pockets for a cigar. "I've been +in Boston the full week, skating around over the +chilly crust of things and never able to get so much +as one tenuous little social claw-hold. Say, Evan, +how many ice-plants does that impenetrable old +town keep going ever count 'em?"</p> + +<p>"Boston is all right when you know it—or, rather, +when it comes to know you," returned Blount, remembering +that Boston or Cambridge—which is +Boston in the process of elucidation—was the birth +and dwelling place of Patricia.</p> + +<p>Gantry grinned broadly and lighted his cigar.</p> + +<p>"The 'effete East' has psychically and psychologically +corralled yo<a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a>u, hasn't it, Evan?—to put it in +choice Bostonese. I thought maybe it would when +I heard you were taking the post-graduate frills in +the Harvard Law School. By the way, how much +longer are you in for?"</p> + +<p>"I am out of the Law School, if that is what you +mean—out and admitted to the bar," said Blount. +"If you get into trouble with the Boston police let +me know, and I'll ask for a change of venue to the +greasewood hills and Judge Lynch's court."</p> + +<p>"The good old greasewood hills!" chanted Gantry, +who was of those who curse their homeland to +its face and praise it consistently and pugnaciously +elsewhere. "Are you ever coming back to them, +Blount? I believe you told me once, in the old +college days, that you were Western-born."</p> + +<p>"I told you the truth; and until to-night I have +never thought much about going back," was Blount's +rather enigmatic reply.</p> + +<p>"But now you are thinking of it?" inquired the +railroad man, waking up. "That's good; the old +Sage-brush State is needing a few bright young +lawyers mighty bad. Is that why I'm the particular +fellow you wanted to meet?"</p> + +<p>Blount passed the telegram which had come while +he was at dinner across the interval between the +two chairs. "Read that," he said.</p> + +<p>Gantry smoothed the square of yellow paper carefully +and held it up to the softened glow of the electric +ceiling-globe. Its date-line carried the name of +his own city in the "greasewood country"—the capital +of the State—and the time-markings sufficiently +indicated its recent arrival. Below the date-line he +read:</p> +<p><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a></p> +<div class="blockquot"><p> +<span class="smcap">To Evan Shelby Blount</span>,</p> + +<p>Standish Apartments, Boston. +</p> + +<p>You have had everything that money could buy, and +you owe me nothing but an occasional sight of your face. +If you are not tied to some woman's apron-string, why +can't you come West and grow up with your native State?</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">David Blount.</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p>It was characteristic of Richard Gantry, light-handed +juggler of friendly phrases, but none the +less a careful and methodical official of a great railway +company, that he folded the telegram in the +original creases before he passed it back.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Blount, when the pause had grown +over-abundantly long.</p> + +<p>"I was just thinking," was the reflective rejoinder. +<a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a>"We used to be fairly chummy in the old Ann Arbor +days, Evan, and yet I never, until a few days ago, +knew or guessed that Senator Blount was your +father."</p> + +<p>"He was and is," was the quiet reply. "I supposed +everybody knew it."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> didn't," Gantry denied, adding: "You may +not realize it, but what you don't tell people about +yourself would make a pretty big book if it were +printed."</p> + +<p>Blount's smile was altogether friendly.</p> + +<p>"What's the use, Richard?" he asked. "The +world has plenty of banalities and commonplaces +without the adding of any man's personal contribution. +Why should I bore you or anybody?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course, if you put it on that ground," +said the railroad traffic manager. "Just the same, +there's another side to it. In an unguarded moment, +back in the college days, as I have said, you +admitted to me that you were Western-born. I always +supposed afterward that you regretted either +the fact or the mention of it, since you never told +me any more."</p> +<p><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a></p> +<p>"Perhaps I didn't tell more because there was so +little to tell. I had a boyhood like other boys—or, +no, possibly it wasn't quite the usual. I was +born on the 'Circle-Bar,' when the ranch was—as it +still is, I believe—a hard day's drive for a bunch +of prime steers distant from the nearest shipping-corral +on the railroad. At twelve I could 'ride line,' +'cut out,' and 'rope down' like any other healthy +ranch-bred youngster, and since the capital was at +that time only in process of getting itself surveyed +and boomed into existence I had never seen a town +bigger than Painted Hat."</p> + +<p>"And what happened when you were twelve?" +queried Gantry. He was not abnormally curious, +but Blount's communicative mood was unusual +enough to warrant a quickening of interest.</p> + +<p>"The greatest possible misfortune that can ever +come to a half-grown boy, Dick—my mother +died."</p> + +<p>Gantry's own boyhood was not so deeply buried +in the past as to make him forgetful of its joys and +sorrows. "That was hard—mighty hard," he assented.<a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a> +Then: "And pretty soon your father married +again?"</p> + +<p>"Not for some years," Blount qualified. "But +for me the heavens were fallen. I was sent away +to school, to college, to Europe; then I came here +to the Law School. In all that time I've never +seen the 'Circle-Bar' or my native State—in fact, +I have never been west of Chicago."</p> + +<p>Gantry was astonished and he admitted it in exclamatory +phrase. As a railroad man, continent-crossing +travel was to him the merest matter of +course. Though he might Sunday-over at the Winnebasset +Country Club on the North Shore, it was +well within the possibilities that the following week-end +might find him sweltering in New Orleans or +buttoning his overcoat against the raw evening fogs +of San Francisco.</p> + +<p>"Never been west of Chicago?" he echoed. +"Never been—" He stopped short, beginning to +realize vaguely that there must be strong reasons; +reasons which might lie beyond the pale of a college +friendship, and the confidences begotten thereby, in +the rendering of them.</p> +<p><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a></p> +<p>"No," said Blount.</p> + +<p>"Then the senator's—that is—er—your father's +political life has never touched you."</p> + +<p>The friendly smile rippled again at the corners of +Blount's steady gray eyes, but this time it was shot +through with a faint suggestion of the Blount grimness.</p> + +<p>"It has touched me on the sympathetic side, Dick. +I saw a large-hearted, open-handed old cattle-king +wading good-naturedly into the muddy stream of +politics to gratify an ambition that wasn't at all +his own—a woman's ambition. In order that the +woman might mix and mingle in Washington society +for a brief minute or two, he got himself elected to +fill out an unexpired term of two months in the +United States Senate—bought the election, some +said. That was three years ago, wasn't it?—a long +time, as political incidents or accidents go. But +Washington hasn't forgotten. When I was down +there last winter the five-o'clock-tea people were +still recalling Mrs. Blount's gowns and the wild-Western +naïveté of 'The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush.'"</p> + +<p>Gantry was chuckling softly when the half-bitter +admission had got itself fully made.</p> +<p><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a></p> +<p>"Land of love, Evan!" he said, "you may be an +educated post-graduate all right, with the proper +Boston degree of culture laid on and rubbed down +to a hard-glaze finish, but you've got a lot to learn +yet—about the senator and his politics, I mean. +Why, Great Snipes, man! he isn't in it a little bit +for the social frills and furbelows; he never was. +Let me intimate a few things: Politically speaking, +David Blount is by long odds the biggest man in +his State to-day. He can have anything he wants, +from the head of the ticket down. You spoke rather +contemptuously just now of his two months in the +Senate; you probably didn't know that he might +have gone back if he had wanted to; that he actually +did a much more difficult thing—named his +successor."</p> + +<p>David Blount's son stood up and put his shoulders +against one of the veranda pillars. From the +new view-point he could look through the reading-room +windows and on into the assembly-room where +the dancers were keeping time to the measures of a +two-step. But he was not thinking of the dancers +when he said:</p> + +<p>"It's a sheer miracle, Dick, your dropping down +here to-night like the <i>deus ex machina</i> of the old +Greek plays. You've read this telegram"—holding +up the folded message—"it is just possible that +<a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a>you can tell me what lies behind it. Why has my +father sent it at this particular time and in those +words? He knows perfectly well that my plans for +settling here in Boston were definitely made more +than a year ago."</p> + +<p>"I can tell you the situation out in the greasewood +country, if that's what you want to know," +said Gantry after a thoughtful pause.</p> + +<p>"Make it simple," was Blount's condition, adding: +"What I don't know about the business or the political +situation in the West would fill a much larger +book than the one you were speaking of a few minutes +ago."</p> + +<p>"'Business or political,' you say; they are Siamese +twins nowadays," returned the railroad man, with +a short laugh. Then: "The outlook for us out yonder +in the greasewood hills is precisely what it is in a +dozen other States this year—east, west, north and +south—everything promising a renewal of the unreasoning, +bull-headed legislative fight against the +railroads. I suppose our own case is typical. As +everybody knows, the Transcontinental Railway has +practically created two-thirds of the States through +which it passes—made them out of whole cloth. +Where you left sage-brush and bare hills and unfenced +cattle ranges a dozen years ago you will now +find irrigation, tilled farm<a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>s, orchards, rich mines—development +everywhere, with a rapidly growing +population to help it along. To make all this possible, +the railroad took a chance; it was a mighty +long chance, and somebody has to pay the bills."</p> + +<p>"I know," smiled Blount; "the bill-paying is +summed up in some railroad man's clever phrase, +'all the tariff the traffic will stand.' I can remember +one year when my father rose up in his wrath +and drove his beef cattle one hundred and fifty miles +across the Transcontinental tracks to the Overland +Central."</p> + +<p>"That was in the old days," protested Gantry, +who was loyal to his salt. "As the State has filled +up, we've tried to meet the situation half-way, as a +straight business proposition. Fares and tariffs have +been lowered from time to time, and——"</p> + +<p>"You are not making it simple enough by half," +warned Blount quizzically. "You are getting further +away from my telegram every minute."</p> + +<p>Gantry paused to relight his cigar.</p> + +<p>"I don't know how your telegram figures in it +specially, but I do know this: the legislature to be +elected this fall in our State will be chosen entirely +without regard to the old party lines. There is only +one issue before the people and that is the Transcontinental +Railway. The 'Paramounters<a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a>,' as they +call themselves, taking the name from the assumption +that it is the paramount duty of the voter to +pinch any business interest bigger than his own, +would like to legislate us out of existence; as against +that we shall beat the tomtom and do our level +best to stay on top of earth."</p> + +<p>"Naturally," Blount agreed, then half-absently, +and with his eyes still resting upon the merrymakers +twirling like paired automatons in the distant +assembly-room: "And my father—how does he +stand?"</p> + +<p>"The idea of your having to ask me how the +senator stands in his own State!" exclaimed Gantry. +"But really, Evan, I'd give a good bit of hard +cash to be able to tell you in so many words just +where he does stand. There are a good many people +in our neck of woods who would like mighty well to +know. It will make all the difference in the world +when it comes to a show-down."</p> + +<p>"Why will it?"</p> + +<p>"Because, apart from the railroad and the anti-railroad +factions, there is a very complete and +smoothly running machine organization."</p> + +<p>"And my father is identified with the machine?"</p> + +<p>Again Gantry choked over the singular lack of<a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a> +information discovering itself in Blount's question.</p> + +<p>"Land of glory!" he ejaculated. "Where have +you been burying yourself, Evan? Didn't I just +tell you that he is the biggest man in the State? +Oh, no"—with heavy irony—"he isn't identified +with the machine—not at all; he merely owns it +and runs it. We may think we can swing a safe +majority in the legislature, and the 'antis' may be +just as firmly convinced that they can. But before +either side can turn a wheel it will have to walk up +to the captain's office and get its orders."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Blount, and a little later: "Thank +you, Dick, I am pretty badly out of touch with the +Western political situation, as you've discovered." +Then he changed the subject abruptly. "How long +will your traffic meeting last?"</p> + +<p>"We practically finished to-day. An hour or two +on Monday will wind it up."</p> + +<p>"After which you'll go West?"</p> + +<p>"After which I shall go West by the Monday noon +train if I can make it. You couldn't hire me to +stay in Boston an hour longer than I have to."</p> + +<p>Silence for a time until Blount broke in upon +Gantry's tapping of the dance-music rhythm with: +"If I can close up a few unfinished business matters +and get ready I may go with you, Dick. Would<a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a> +you mind?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I should mind so much that I'd willingly +miss a train or so and worry out a few more of the +chilly Boston hours rather than lose the chance of +having you along."</p> + +<p>"That is good of you, I'm sure. I should bore +myself to death if I had to travel alone."</p> + +<p>Blount's rejoinder might have passed for a mere +friendly commonplace if it had not been for the +rather curiously worded telegram. But it was a +goodly portion of Gantry's business in life to put +two and two together, and that phrase in the senator's +message about a woman's apron-string interested +him. Moreover, it was subtly suggestive.</p> + +<p>"Ever meet your father's—er—the present Mrs. +Blount, Evan?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No." Blount may have been Western-born, but +the chilling discouragement he could crowd into the +two-letter negation spoke eloquently of his Eastern +training.</p> + +<p>Gantry was rebuffed but not disheartened.</p> + +<p>"She is a mighty fine woman," he ventured.</p> + +<p>"So I have been given to understand." This +time Blount's reply was icy. <a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a>But now Gantry's +eyes were twinkling and he pressed his advantage.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to reckon pretty definitely with her +if you go out to the greasewood country, Evan. +Next to your father, she is the court of last resort; +indeed, there are a good many people who insist +that she <i>is</i> the court—the power behind the throne, +you know."</p> + +<p>There is one ditch out of which the most persistent +and gladsome mocker may not drive his victim, +and that is the ditch of silence. Blount said nothing. +Nevertheless, Gantry tried once more.</p> + +<p>"Not interested, Evan?"</p> + +<p>Blount turned and looked his companion coldly +in the eyes.</p> + +<p>"Not in the slightest degree, Dick. Will you take +that for your answer now, and remember it hereafter?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," laughed the railroad man. And then, to +round out the forbidden topic by adding worse to +bad: "I didn't know it was a sore spot with you. +How should I know? But, as I say, you'll have to +reckon with her sooner or later, and—"</p> +<p><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a></p> +<p>"Let's talk of something else," snapped Blount.</p> + +<p>Gantry found a match and relighted his cigar. +When he began again he was still thinking of the +"apron-string" clause in the senator's telegram.</p> + +<p>"I can't understand how any man with Western +blood in his veins could ever be content to marry +and settle down in this over-civilized neck of woods," +he remarked, looking down upon the parked automobiles +and around at the country-club evidences +of the civilization.</p> + +<p>"Can't you?" smiled Blount, with large lenience. +One of the things the civilization had done for him +was to make him good-naturedly tolerant of the +crudeness of the outlander.</p> + +<p>"No, I can't," asserted the Westerner. Then he +added: "Of course, I don't know the Eastern young +woman even by sight. She may be all that is lovely, +desirable, and enticing—if a man could hope to live +long enough to get really well acquainted with +her."</p> +<p><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a></p> +<p>"She is," declared Blount, with the air of one +who had lived quite long enough to know.</p> + +<p>Once more Gantry was putting two and two together. +Blount's determination to go West and +grow up with the country—his father's country—was +apparently a very sudden one. Had the decision +turned entirely upon the senator's telegram? +Gantry, wise in his generation, thought not.</p> + +<p>"You say that as if you'd been taking a few lessons," +he laughed. Then, with the friendly impudence +which only a college comradeship could +excuse: "Is she here to-night?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Blount, unguardedly making the response +which admitted so much more than it said.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about her," Gantry begged. "I don't +often read a love story, but I like to hear 'em."</p> + +<p>If it had been any one but Gantry, Blount would +probably have had a sharp attack of reticence, with +outward symptoms unmistakable to the dullest. +<a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a>But the time, the surroundings, and the exceeding +newness of Patricia's "No" combined to break down +the barriers of reserve.</p> + +<p>"There isn't much to tell, Dick," he began half +humorously, half in ill-concealed self-pity. "I've +known her for a year, and I've loved her from +the first day. That is Chapter One; and Chapter +Two ends the story with one small word. She says +'No.'"</p> + +<p>"The dickens she does!" said Gantry, in hearty +sympathy. Then: "But that's a good sign, isn't +it? Haven't I heard somewhere that they always +say 'No' at first?"</p> + +<p>Blount laughed in spite of himself. Gantry, the +Dick Gantry of the college period, had always been +a man's man, gay, light-hearted, and care-free to the +outward eye, but in reality one who was carrying +burdens of poverty and distress which might well +have crushed an older and a stronger man. There +had been no time for sentiment then, and Blount +wondered if there had been in any later period.</p> +<p><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a></p> +<p>"I am afraid I can't get any comfort out of that +suggestion," he returned. "When Miss Patricia +Anners says 'No,' I am quite sure she means it."</p> + +<p>"Think so?" said Gantry, still sympathetic. +"Well, I suppose you are the best judge. Tough, +isn't it, old man? What's the obstacle?—if you +can tell it without tearing the bandages off and +saying 'Ouch!'"</p> + +<p>"It is Miss Anners's career."</p> + +<p>"H'm," was the doubtful comment; "I'm afraid +you'll have to elaborate that a little for me. I'm +not up in the 'career' classification."</p> + +<p>"She has been studying at home and abroad in +preparation for social-settlement work in the large +cities. Of course, I knew about it; but I thought—I +hoped—"</p> + +<p>"You hoped it was only a young woman's fad—which +it probably is," Gantry cut in.</p> + +<p>"Y-yes; I'm afraid that was just what I did hope, +Dick. But I couldn't talk against it. Confound it +all, you can't go about smashing ideals for the +people you love best!"</p> + +<p>"Rich?" queried Gantry.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Her father has the chair of paleontology, +<a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a>and never gets within speaking distance of the +present century. The mother has been dead many +years."</p> + +<p>"And you say the girl has the Hull House ambition?"</p> + +<p>"The social-betterment ambition. It's an ideal, +and I can't smash it. You wouldn't smash it, either, +Dick."</p> + +<p>"No; I guess that's so. If I were in your fix +I should probably do what you are doing—say +'Good-by, fond heart,' and hie me away to the forgetful +edge of things. And it's simply astonishing +how quickly the good old sage-brush hills will help +a man to forget everything that ever happened to +him before he ducked."</p> + +<p>Blount winced a little at that. It was no part +of his programme to forget Patricia. Indeed, for +twenty-four hours, or the waking moiety of that +period, he had been assuring himself of the utter +impossibility of anything remotely approaching forgetfulness. +This thought made him instantly self-reproachful; +regretful for having shown a sort of +disloyalty by opening the door of the precious and +sacred things, even to so good a friend as Dick Gantry; +and from regretting to amending was never +more than a step for Evan Blount. There were +plenty of reminiscences to be threshed over, and</p> + +<p><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a>Blount brought them forward so tactfully that +Gantry hardly knew it when he was shouldered away +from the open door of the acuter personalities.</p> + +<p>It was quite late, and the talk had again drifted +around to a one-sided discussion of practical politics +in the Western definition of the term, when Gantry, +pleading weariness on the score of his hard week's +work at the railroad meeting, went to bed. The +summer night was at its perfect best, and Blount +was still wakeful enough to refill his pipe and well-balanced +enough to be thankful for a little solitude +in which to set in order his plans for the newly +<a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a>struck-out future. In the later talk with Gantry +he had learned many things about the political situation +in his native State, things which were +enlightening if not particularly encouraging. Trained +in the ethics of a theoretical school, he knew only +enough about practical politics to be very certain +in his own mind that they were all wrong. And if +Gantry's account could be trusted, there were none +but practical politics in the State where his father +was reputed to be the dictator.</p> + +<p>Hitherto his ambition had been to build up a +modest business practice in some Eastern city, and, +like other aspiring young lawyers, he had been filling +out the perspective of the picture with the look +ahead to a possible time when some great corporation +should need his services in permanence. He +was of the new generation, and he knew that the +lawyer of the courts was slowly but surely giving +place to the lawyer of business. Without attempting +to carry the modern business situation bodily +over into the domain of pure ethics, he was still +young enough and enthusiastic enough to lay down +the general principle that a great corporation, being<a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a> +itself a creation of the law, must necessarily be law-abiding, +and, if not entirely ethical in its dealings +with the public, at least equitably just. Therefore +his ideal in his own profession was the man who +could successfully safeguard large interests, promote +the beneficent outreachings of corporate capital, +and be the adviser of the man or men to whom the +greater America owes its place at the head of the +civilized nations.</p> + +<p>Oddly enough, though Gantry's attitude had been +uncompromisingly partisan, Blount had failed to +recognize in the railroad official a skilful pleader +for the special interests—the interests of the few +against those of the many. Hence he was preparing +to go to the new field with a rather strong prepossession +in favor of the defendant corporation. +In their later conversation Gantry had intimated +pretty broadly that there was room for an assistant +corporation counsel for the railroad, with headquarters +in the capital of the Sage-brush State. +Blount assumed that the requirements, in the present +crisis at least, would be politi<a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a>cal rather than legal, +and in his mind's eye he saw himself in the prefigured +perspective, standing firmly as the defender of +legitimate business rights in a region where popular +prejudice was capable of rising to anarchistic +heights of denunciation and attack.</p> + +<p>The picture pleased him; he would scarcely have +been a true descendant of the fighting Blounts of +Tennessee if the prospect of a conflict had been +other than inspiring. If there were to be no Patricia +in his future, ambition must be made to fill all the +horizons; and since work is the best surcease for +any sorrow, he found himself already looking forward +in eager anticipation to the moment when he could +begin the grapple, man-wise and vigorously, in the +new environment.</p> + +<p>It was after the ashes had been knocked from the +bedtime pipe that Blount left his chair and the secluded +corner of the veranda to go down among the +parked automobiles on the lawn. His one recreation—and +it was the only one in which he found +the precious fillip of enthusiasm—was motoring. +There was a choice collection of fine cars in the +grouping on the lawn, and Blount had just awakened +a sleepy chauffeur to ask him to uncover and exhibit +the engine of a freshly imported Italian machine, +when a stir at the veranda entrance told him that at +least a few of the dancing gu<a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a>ests were leaving early.</p> + +<p>Being more curious at the moment about the +mechanism of the Italian motor than he was about +people, he did not realize that he was an intruder +until the chauffeur hastily replaced the engine bonnet +and began to get his car ready for the road. +Blount stepped back when the little group on the +veranda came down the steps preceded by a club +footman who was calling the number of the car. +And it was not until he was turning away that he +found himself face to face with a very beautiful and +very clear-eyed young woman who was buttoning +an automobile dust-coat up under her chin.</p> + +<p>"Patricia!" he burst out. And then: "For +Heaven's sake! you don't mean to tell me that you +have been here all evening?"</p> + +<p>Her slow smile gave the impression, not quite of +frigidity perhaps, but of that quality of serene self-possession +which strangers sometimes mistook for +coldness.</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't I be here?" she asked. "Didn't +you know that the Cranfords—the people who are +entertaining—are old friends of ours?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a></p> +<p>Blount shook his head. "No, I didn't know it; +and because I didn't, I have lost an entire evening."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; you shouldn't say that," she protested. +"The evening was yours to use as you chose. Mrs. +Beverley told me you were here, and she added that +you had particularly requested not to be introduced +to the Cranfords or their guests. Besides, you +know you don't care anything about dancing."</p> + +<p>The chauffeur had placed his other passengers in +the tonneau, and was trying to crank the motor. +Blount was thankful that the new Italian engine was +refusing to take the spark. The delay was giving +him an added moment or two.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't care much for dancing; and you +know very well why I couldn't, or wouldn't, be anybody's +good company to-night," he said. Then: +"It was cruel of you to deny me this last evening +by not letting me know that you were here."</p> + +<p>"'This last evening'?" she echoed. "Why +'last'?"</p> + +<p>"Because I am leaving Boston and New England +to-morrow—or rather, Monday. It is the only +thing to do."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry you are taking it this way, Evan," +<a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a>she deprecated, in the sisterly tone that always +made him hotly resentful. "It hurts my sense of +proportion."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes I think you haven't any sense of +proportion, Patricia," he retorted half-morosely. +"If you have, I am sure it is frightfully distorted."</p> + +<p>The recalcitrant motor had given a few preliminary +explosions, and a white-haired old gentleman in +the tonneau was calling impatiently to Patricia to +come and take her place so that he might close the +door.</p> + +<p>"It is you who have the distorted perspective, +Evan," she countered. "But I refused to quarrel +with you last night, and I am refusing to quarrel +with you now. It pleases you to believe that a +woman's place in this twentieth-century world is inevitably +at the fireside—her own fireside. I don't +agree with you; I am afraid I shall never agree with +you. Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"I am going West, Monday."</p> + +<p>"How odd!" she commented. "We are going<a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a> +West, too—father and I—though not quite so soon +as Monday."</p> + +<p>"You are?" he queried. "Whereabout in the +West?"</p> + +<p>She did not tell him where. The car motor was +whirring smoothly now, the chauffeur was sliding +into his seat behind the pilot-wheel, and the old +gentleman in the tonneau was growing quite violently +impatient.</p> + +<p>"If we are both going in the same direction we +needn't say good-by," she said hastily, giving him +her hand at parting. "Let it be <i>auf wiedersehen</i>." +Then the clang of the closing tonneau door and the +outgoing rush of the big car coincided so accurately +that Blount had to spring nimbly aside to +save himself from being run down.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + +<h3>THE BOSS</h3> +<p><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a></p> + +<p>It is a far cry from Boston to the land of broken +mountain ranges, lone buttes, and irrigated mesas, +and a still farther one from the veranda of an exclusive +North Shore club to a private dining-room in +the Inter-Mountain Hotel, whose entrance portico +faces the Capitol grounds in the chief city of the +Sage-brush State, whose eastern windows command +a magnificent view of the Lost River Range, +and from whose roof, on a clear day, one may see +the snowy peaks of the Sierras notching the distant +western horizon.</p> + +<p>Allowing for the difference between Eastern and +Mountain time, the dinner for two in the private +dining-room of the Inter-Mountain synchronized +very fairly with the threshing out of college reminiscences +by the two young men whose apparently fortuitous +meeting on the veranda of the far-away +North Shore club-house one of them, at least, was +ascribing to the good offices of the god of chance.</p> + +<p>On the guest-book of the Inter-Mountain one of +the men at the table in the private dining-room had +registered from Chicago. The name was illegible +to the cursory eye, but since it was the signature +<a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a>of a notable empire-builder, it was sufficiently well +known in all the vast region served by the Transcontinental +Railway System. The owner of the +name had finished his ice, and was sitting back to +clip the end from a very long and very black cigar. +He was a man past middle-age, large-framed and +heavy, with the square, resolute face of a born +master of circumstances. Like the younger generation, +he was clean shaven; hence there was no +mask for the deeply graven lines of determination +about the mouth and along the angle of the strong, +leonine jaw. In the region traversed by the great +railway system the virile face with the massive jaw +was as familiar as the illegible signature on the +Inter-Mountain's guest-book. Though he figured +only as the first vice-president of the Transcontinental +Company, Hardwick McVickar was really +the active head of its affairs and the dictator of its +policies.</p> + +<p>Across the small round table sat the railway +magnate's dinner-guest, a man who was more than +McVickar's match in big-boned, square-shouldered +physique, and whose half-century was written only +in the thick, grizzled hair and heavy, graying +mustaches. Like McVickar, he had the lion-like +face of mastership, but the fine wrinkle<a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a>s at the +corners of the wide-set eyes postulated a sense of +humor which was lacking in his table companion. +His mouth, half hidden by the drooping mustaches, +needed the relieving wrinkles at the corners of the +eyes; it was a grim, straight-lined inheritance from +his pioneer ancestors—the mouth of a man who may +yield to persuasion but not easily to opposition.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could convince you that it isn't worth +while to hold me at arm's-length, Senator," McVickar +was saying, as he clipped the end from his +cigar. "You know as well as I do that under the +present law in this State we are practically bankrupt. +We are not making enough to pay the fixed charges. +We do a losing business from the moment we cross +your State line."</p> + +<p>"Yes; it seems to me I have heard something that +sounded a good deal like that before," was the noncommittal +rejoinder.</p> + +<p>"You have heard the simple truth, then. And it +is a bald injustice, not only to the railroad company, +but to the people it serves. We can't give adequate +service when the cost exceeds the earnings. That +is the simplest possible proposition in any business +undertaking."</p> + +<p>"And you can't make out t<a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a>o convince the members +of the State Railroad Commission of the simpleness?" +asked the man whom the vice-president +addressed as "Senator."</p> + +<p>"You know well enough that we can't hope to +convince a rabidly anti-railroad commission," was +the half-angry retort.</p> + +<p>"Yet you are still running your railroad," suggested +the other. "We don't hear anything about +your shutting down and tearing up the track."</p> + +<p>"No; luckily, the Transcontinental System does +not lie wholly within your State boundaries. If it +did, we might as well surrender our charter and go +out of business—shut down and tear up the track, +as you put it."</p> + +<p>"All of which has come to be a pretty old and +well-worn story with us, McVickar," said the listener +quietly. "I'm sure you didn't make me +motor thirty miles to hear you tell it all over again. +What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"We want a square deal," was the curt reply.</p> + +<p>"So do the people of this State," asserted the +man across the table. "You bled us, Hardwick—bled +us to the queen's taste—while you had the +chance; and the chance lasted a blamed long time. +You are equitably, if not legally, in debt to<a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a> every +man in this State who had ever shipped a car-load +of freight or paid a passenger fare over your line +before the present rate law went into effect. You +can shuffle and side-step all you want to, but that is +the plain fact of the matter."</p> + +<p>The vice-president sat up and braced his arms on +the edge of the table.</p> + +<p>"You are too much for me, Blount—you hold +out too many cards; and I'm no apprentice at the +game, either. In all these years we've been dickering +together you've always been a hard-bitted and +consistent fighter for your own hand. What's happened +to you lately? Have you acquired a new set +of convictions? Or have you been figuring out a +different way of whipping the devil around the +stump?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," returned the guest, with +large good-nature. "We are all growing older—and +wiser, perhaps. You don't deny the debt you +owe us, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Do we owe you anything, Blount?" asked the +magnate pointedly, and with a definite emphasis +upon the personal pronoun. "If we do, we are willing +to pay it in spot cash, on demand."</p> +<p><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a></p> +<p>The big man on the other side of the table was +leaning back in his chair with his hands in his +pockets, and the smile wrinkling at the corners of +his eyes was half-genial, half-satirical.</p> + +<p>"It's lucky we're alone, McVickar," he remarked. +"A third fellow standing around and hearing you +talk might imagine that you are trying to bribe me."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, Blount; this is between us two, +and we understand each other. Nothing for nothing +is the accepted rule the world over, and we +both recognize it. You are figuring on something; +I know you are. Name it. If it is anything less +than a mortgage on the earth and one or two of +the planets I'll get it for you."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we are a good deal more than a mile +or two apart yet, McVickar," said the man who was +not smoking, after a long minute. "Let's ride back +to the beginning and get us a fresh start. I said +that Gordon is going to be the next governor of the +State."</p> + +<p>"I know you did; and I said—and I say it again—he +isn't going to be—not if we can help it," declared +<a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a>the railway magnate, with emphatic determination.</p> + +<p>"The methods you will take to defeat him will +insure his election, McVickar. You fellows are +mighty slow to learn your lesson; mighty slow and +obstinate, Hardwick. You don't know anything +but wire-pulling and crookedness and bribery. The +times have changed, and you haven't had the +common-sense or the courage or the business +shrewdness to change with them. I say Gordon will be +the next governor."</p> + +<p>Again there was a strained silence like that which +follows the hand-shake in the prize-ring when the +two antagonists have drawn apart and are warily +watching each for his opening. After the pause the +vice-president said:</p> + +<p>"If we had the safest kind of a majority in both +houses of the legislature, we couldn't be sure of +accomplishing anything worth while with Gordon in +the governor's office; you know that, Blount. If +Gordon runs and is elected, his platform will be +flatly anti-railroad."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," was the calm rejoinder. +"Gordon is a mighty square fellow; an honest man +<a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a>and a fair one. If you could stay out of the fight +and go to him with clean hands—but you couldn't +do that, McVickar; you're too badly out of +practice."</p> + +<p>"We needn't go into that phase of it. We are +so savagely handicapped in this State that we can't +afford to take a divided chance; can't afford to pass +our case up to a man who has been elected by an +unfriendly opposition. If we should wash our hands +of the fight, as you suggest, we might just as well +throw up our franchises and quit, so far as any +prospect of earning a reasonable return upon our +investment here is concerned."</p> + +<p>"I know; that is what you always say, and you +have said it so often—you and your fellow railroad +string-pullers—that you have lost the straightforward +combination completely. If you ever knew how to +make a clean fight you've forgotten the moves, and +it's your own fault."</p> + +<p>Once more the man with the fierce eyes and the<a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a> +dominating jaw took time to consider. Like others +of his class, he was partisan only in the sense of one +fighting hardily for the side upon which he had +happened to be drawn in the great world battle. If he +had not long ago parted with his convictions, the +heat and smoke of the battle had obscured them, +and he chose his weapons now with little regard for +anything beyond their possible efficacy.</p> + +<p>"You are sparring with me, Blount," he said +finally. "You are talking to me as you might talk +to a committee of the Good Government League—and +possibly for the same reason. Let's get together. +You control the political situation in your State, and +we frankly recognize that fact. It's a matter of +business, and we can settle it on a business basis. +I have been outspoken and above-board with you +and have told you what we want. Meet me halfway +and tell me what you want."</p> + +<p>"I want a square deal all around, Hardwick; +that's all. You've got to take the same ground +and make a clean fight if you want me with you. +I can't make it any plainer than that, can I?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a></p> +<p>"I don't know yet what you are driving at," +frowned the vice-president, "nor just why you have +taken this particular occasion to read me a +kindergarten lecture on political methods. In times past +I suppose we have both done some things that we +would like to have decently buried and forgotten, +but—"</p> + +<p>"But right there we break apart, McVickar," +cut in the other, setting his jaw with a peculiar +hardening of the facial muscles that gave him the appearance +of a fierce old viking attacking at the head of +his squadrons. "I'm telling you over again that a +new day has dawned in American politics; I and +my kind recognize it, and you and your kind don't +seem to be big enough to recognize it. That is the +difference between us. In the present instance it +comes down to this: you are going to fight for a +railroad majority in the legislature, and you want +Reynolds for the head of the ticket because you +know that you can depend upon his veto if you +don't get your majority in the House and Senate. +You are not going to get Reynolds, or the majority +either, without the help of the party organization."</p> + +<p>"We can put it much more elementally than +<a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a>that," supplemented the railroad man. "We get +nothing without your say-so as the head of the +party organization. That is precisely why I have +come a couple of thousand miles to ask you to eat +dinner with me here to-night."</p> + +<p>"I reckon I ought to feel right much set up and +biggitty over that, Hardwick," smiled the veteran +spoilsman, relapsing, as he did now and then, into +the speech of his Southern boyhood. And then +half-quizzically: "Are you tolerably well satisfied +that you've got around to the place where you are +willing to tote fair with me? You recollect, I gave +you a straight pointer two years ago; you wouldn't +take it, and we did you up. Are you right certain +you are ready now to holler 'enough'?"</p> + +<p>Once again the vice-president refused to be +hurried into making a capitulative admission. When +he spoke, the militant second thought of the fighting +corporation commander chose the words.</p> + +<p>"There is a limit to all things, Senator, and you +are pushing us pretty well up to it. I suppose you +can crack the whip and swing the vote on the +legislature, and you can take it and be damned. But, +by God, we'll have our governor and our attorney-general!"</p> + +<p>"You are betting confidently on that, are you?" +said the veteran mildly.<a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a> "Is that your declaration +of war?"</p> + +<p>"Call it anything you like. We are not going to +be legislated off the map if we can help it. Strong +as your machine is, you can't swing Gordon in +against Reynolds if we concede your bare majority +in the legislature and put up the right kind of a fight. +And when it comes to Rankin, our candidate for +attorney-general, you simply haven't another man +in the party to put up against him. You'd have +to run in a dummy, and even you are not big enough +to do that, Blount, and put it over."</p> + +<p>"You've settled this definitely in your own mind, +have you, Hardwick?" was the placable rejoinder. +"I'm sorry—right sorry. I've been hoping that you +had learned your lesson—you and your tribe. I +came to town this evening prepared to show you a +decent way out of your troubles, so far as this State +is concerned; but since you have posted your 'de-fi,' +as we cow-punchers say, I reckon it isn't worth while +to wade any deeper into the creek."</p> + +<p>Again the railroad magnate rested his arms on the<a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a> +table-edge. "What was your 'decent way,' Senator?" +he asked, fixing his gaze upon the shrewd old +eyes of the other, which, for the first time in the +conference, seemed to be losing a little of their +grimly good-natured aggressiveness.</p> + +<p>"I don't mind telling you, though you will likely +call it an old man's foolishness. I have a grown +son, McVickar. Did you know that?"</p> + +<p>The vice-president nodded, and the big man +opposite went on half-reminiscently:</p> + +<p>"He is a lawyer, and a mighty bright one, so they +tell me. As I happen to know, he is pretty well up +on the corporation side of the argument, and the one +thing I've been afraid of is that he would marry +and settle down somewhere in the East, where the +big corporations have their home ranches. I'm getting +old, Hardwick, and I'd like mighty well to have +the boy with me. Out of that notion grew another. +I said to myself this: Now, here's McVickar; if +he could have a good, clean-cut young man in this +State representing his railroad—a man who not +<a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a>only knew his way around in a court-room, but +who might also know how to plead his client's case +before the public—if McVickar could have such a +young fellow as that for his corporation counsel, +and would agree to make his railroad company live +somewhere within shouting distance of such a young +fellow's ideals, we might all be persuaded to bury +the hatchet and live together in peace and amity."</p> + +<p>A slow smile was spreading itself over the strong +face of the railway magnate as he listened.</p> + +<p>"Say, David," he retorted mildly, "it isn't much +like you to go forty miles around when there is a +short way across. Why didn't you tell me plainly in +the beginning that you wanted a place for your boy?"</p> + +<p>"Hold on; don't let's get too far along before we +get started; I'm not saying it now," was the sober +protest. "You forget that you've just been telling +me that you don't intend to comply with the one +hard-and-fast condition to such an arrangement as +the one I've been pipe-dreaming about."</p> + +<p>"What condition?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a></p> +<p>"That you turn over a brand-new leaf and meet +the people of this State half-way on a proposition +of fair play for everybody."</p> + +<p>"There isn't any half-way point in a fight for life, +David. You know that as well, or better, than I +do. But let that go. We'll give your son the place +you want him to have, and do it gladly."</p> + +<p>The man who had once been his own foreman of +round-ups straightened himself in his chair and +smote the table with his fist.</p> + +<p>"No, by God, you won't—not in a thousand +years, McVickar! Maybe you could buy me—maybe +you <i>have</i> bought me in times past—but you +can't buy that boy! Listen, and I'll tell you what +I'm going to do. I telegraphed the boy this afternoon, +telling him to throw up his job in Boston and +come out here. If he comes within a reasonable +time he will be legally a citizen of the State before +election. You said we didn't have anybody but +Rankin to run for attorney-general. By Heavens, +Hardwick, I'll show you if we haven't!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Hardwick McVickar was not of those who +fight as one beating the air. While the deft waiter +was clearing the table and serving the small coffees +he kept silence. But when the time was fully ripe +he said what there was to be said.</p> +<p><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a></p> +<p>"You've got us by the nape of the neck, as usual, +Blount. Name your terms."</p> + +<p>"I have named them. Get in line with the new +public opinion and we'll do what we can for you."</p> + +<p>During the long pause following this curt ultimatum +the masterful dictator of railroad policies +deliberated thoughtfully upon many things. With +the ex-senator as the all-powerful head of the machine +in this State of many costly battle-fields, it +would have been a weakness inexcusable on the +part of so astute a commander as McVickar if +David Blount's history, political and personal, had +not been known to him in all its details. As a contingency +to be met sooner or later, the vice-president +had anticipated the thing which had now come to +pass. That Blount should wish to push the fortunes +of his son was perfectly natural; and it was no less +natural that he should push them by making the +railroad company's pay-roll furnish the motive-power. +The magnate smiled inwardly when he remembered +that he had given Gantry, the division +traffic manager of the Transcontinental, a quiet hint +to look up one Evan Blount, a young lawyer, on +his next visit to Boston. By all odds it would be +better to wait for Gantry's report before taking +any irrevocable steps in the bargaining with Evan +Blount's father; but unhappily the crisis had arrived, +and in all probability it could not be postponed<a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a>. +None the less, the vice-president tried craftily +for the postponement.</p> + +<p>"You're asking a good deal, Blount, and you don't +seem to realize it. You are practically demanding +that we lay down our arms and put a possible enemy +in the saddle on the eve of a battle. If we should +agree to meet the people of this State half-way, as +you suggest, what guarantee have we that we won't +be compelled to go all the way?"</p> + +<p>The fine-lined wrinkles were appearing again at +the corners of the hereditary Blount eyes.</p> + +<p>"You can't quite rise to the occasion, can you, +Hardwick?" smiled the boss. "You'd like to behave +yourself and be good, of course; but you want +to be cocksure beforehand that it isn't going to +cost too much."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyway, I'm going to ask for a little time +in which to consider it," was the vice-president's +final word.</p> + +<p>"Sure! You have all the time there is between +now and the election. Go on and do your considering. +I've told you what I'm going to do."</p> + +<p>"You know very well that we can't allow you to +do what you propose. With an unfriendly attorney-<a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a>general +we might as well throw up our hands first +as last."</p> + +<p>"All right; it's right pointedly up to you," was +the calm reply.</p> + +<p>The vice-president rose and dusted the cigar-ash +from his coat-sleeve with the table-napkin. When +he looked up, the heavy frown was again furrowing +itself between his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Let me know when your son is coming and +I'll try to make it possible to meet him here," he +said rather gratingly.</p> + +<p>And thus, at the precise moment when Richard +Gantry, some three thousand miles away to the +eastward, was declaring his weariness and his intention +of going to bed, the two-man conference in the +Inter-Mountain private dining-room was closed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a></p> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + +<h3>A FALSE GALLOP OF MEMORIES</h3> + + +<p>As a churlish fate decreed, it turned out that +Evan Blount was not to have Gantry for a travelling +companion beyond Chicago. On the second day of +westward faring the railroad traffic manager, whose +business followed him like an implacable Nemesis +wherever he went, had wire instructions to stop +and confer with his vice-president in the Illinois +metropolis. Hence, on the morning of the following +day, Blount continued his journey alone.</p> + +<p>Twenty-odd hours later the returning expatriate +had crossed his Rubicon; in other words, his train +had rolled through the majestic steel bridge spanning +the clay-colored flood of the Missouri River at +Omaha, and he was entering upon scenes which +ought to have been familiar—which should have +been and were not, so many and striking were the +changes which had been wrought during his fourteen +years of absence.</p> + +<p>Though h<a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a>e was far enough from realizing it, +his education and the Eastern environment had +given him a touch of Old-World insularity. The +through sleeper in which he had his allotment of +space was well filled, and there were the usual opportunities +for the making of passing acquaintanceships +in the smoking-compartment. But it was not +until the second day, after the dining-car luncheon +and its aftermath of a well-chosen cigar had broken +down some of the barriers of the acquired reserve, +that he fell into talk with the prosperous-looking +gentleman who had seized upon the only chair +in the smoking-compartment—a man whose thin, +hawk-like face, narrowly set eyes, and uneasy manner +were singularly out of keeping with the fashionable +cut of his clothes, with his liberal tips, and +with the display of jewelry on his watch-fob.</p> + +<p>At first the conversation was baldly desultory, as +it was bound to be, with an escaped lover, whose +disappointment was still rasping him like a newly +devised Nessus shirt, to sustain an undivided half +of it. The hawk-faced one, who had boarded the +train at Omaha and whose section was directly +oppos<a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a>ite Blount's, defined himself as a mine-owner +whose property, vaguely located as somewhere "in +the mountains," was involved in litigation.</p> + +<p>It was the reference to the litigation which first +drew Blount beyond the boundaries of the commonplaces. +Oddly enough, considering the fact that +his planned-for Eastern career would have given +him little occasion to dip into the mining codes, he +had specialized somewhat in mining law. Hence, +when the hawk-faced man had told his story, Blount +found himself thawing out sufficiently to be suggestively +helpful to the man who had apparently purchased +more trouble than profits in his mining +ventures.</p> + +<p>Into the cleft thus opened by the axe of human +sympathy the man in the wicker chair presently +inserted a wedge of cautious inquiry touching another +matter. In addition to his mining ventures he +had been making investments in timber-lands, or, +rather, in certain lumber companies operating "in +the mountains"—bad investments, he feared, since +the Government had lately taken such a decided +stand against the cutting of timber in the mountain-land +<a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a>reserves and water-sheds. Was it likely, he +asked, that the talk would materialize in restraining +action? If so, he was in the hole again—worse +off than he should be if his mining lawsuits should +go against him.</p> + +<p>Again Blount, good-naturedly charitable and not +a little amused by the nervous anxiety of the gentleman +of many troubles, gave an opinion.</p> + +<p>"Conservation, in timber as well as in other remaining +resources of the country, has come to be +a word which is in everybody's mouth," was the +form the opinion took. "The plain citizen who isn't +familiar with the methods of the timber sharks +would do well to keep his money out of their hands +if he doesn't wish to be held as <i>particeps criminis</i> +with them in the day of reckoning."</p> + +<p>"Say!" ejaculated the thin man, wriggling nervously +in his chair. "If you were a Government +agent yourself you could hardly put the case stronger +for the conservation crowd!"</p><p><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a></p> + +<p>Now, in ordinary circumstances, nothing was ever +farther from Blount's normal attitude toward his +fellow-men than a disposition to yield to the sudden +joking impulse. But the hawk-faced man's perturbation +was so real, or so faultlessly simulated, that +he could not resist the temptation.</p> + +<p>"How do you know that I am not a Government +agent?" he demanded, with a decent show of gravity.</p> + +<p>"Because you are not travelling on Government +transportation," was the shrewd retort.</p> + +<p>At another time Blount might have wondered +why a casual fellow-traveller should have taken the +trouble to make the discovery. But at the moment +he was intent only upon keeping the small misunderstanding +alive.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you have seen my ticket, but you +can't tell anything by that," he countered, laughing. +"A good many civilian employees of the Government +travel nowadays on regular tickets, like other +<a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a>people."</p> + +<p>"I know damned well they do," admitted the +anxious one; and then, with a swift eye-shot which +Blount missed: "Especially if they happen to be +travelling on the quiet to catch some poor devil +napping on the job."</p> + +<p>"You needn't be alarmed; you haven't told me +anything that the department could make use of," +returned Blount, carrying the jest the one necessary +move farther along.</p> + +<p>It was precisely at this point, as Blount remembered +afterward, that the timber-thieving subject +was dropped. Later on, after the talk had drifted +back to mining, and from mining to politics, the +nervous gentleman pleaded weariness and declared +his intention of going to his section to take a nap, +and presently disappeared to carry it out.</p> + +<p>Blount was not sorry to be left alone. In response +to a vague stirring of something within +<a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a>him—a thing which might have been the primitive +underman yawning and stretching to its awakening—he +had been trying in the window-facing intervals +to reconstruct the passing panorama of mountain +and plain upon the recollections of his boyhood. +As yet there was little familiarity save in the +broader outlines. Where he remembered only the +fallow-dun prairie, dotted with dog-mounds, there +were now vast ranches planted to sod corn; and +upon the hills the cattle ranges were no longer open. +The towns, too, at which the train made its momentary +stops, were changed. The straggling shack +hamlets of the cattle-shipping period, with the shed-roofed +railroad station, the whitewashed loading-corral, +and the towering water-tank—all backgrounded +by a thin line of saloons and dance-halls—had +disappeared completely, and the window-watcher +found himself looking in vain for the flap-hatted, +cigarette-smoking horsemen with which the +West of his boyhood had been chiefly peopled.</p> + +<p>Farther along toward evening the great range, +which had been visible for hours in the westward +vista, began to define itself in peaks and high, bald +shoulderings of wind-swept mesas. Here was something +definite and tangible for the stirring underman +<a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a>to lay hold upon. Blount, the sober-minded, +the self-contained, found a curious transformation +working itself out in quickened pulses and exhilarating +nerve-tinglings. Boston, the Law School, the +East of the narrow walk-ways and the still narrower +rut of custom and convention, were fading into a +past which already seemed age-old and half forgotten. +He threw open the window at his elbow and +drank in deep inspirations of the hill-sweeping blast. +It was sweet in his nostrils, and the keen crispness +of it was as fine wine in his blood. After all, he had +been but a sojourner in the other world, and this +was his homeland.</p> + +<p>At the dining-car dinner, which was served while +the higher peaks of the main range were as vast +islands floating in a sea of crimson and gold, Blount +missed the man of many troubles. The dining-car +was well filled, and, though the faces of the diners +were all unfamiliar, the hum of talk, the hurrying +of the waiters, and the subdued clamor drowning +itself in the under-drone of the drumming wheels +answered well enough for companionship. There +are times when even the voice of a friend is an intrusion, +and the returning exile had happed upon +one of them. Largeness, the inspiring breadth of +the immensities, was what he craved most; and +when he had cut the many-coursed dinner short, he +hurried back to his Pullman window, hoping that +he might have the smoking-compartment to himself +again.</p> + +<p>The unspoken wish was granted. When he entered +the smoking-room he found it empty; and, +filling his cutty pipe, he drew the cushioned wicker +chair out to face the open window. <a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a>Fresh glimpses +of the northward landscape shortly brought a renewal +of the heart-stirrings; and when he finally +had the longed-for sight of a bunch of grazing cattle, +with the solitary night-herd hanging by one leg in +the saddle to watch the passing of the train, the +call of the homeland was trumpeting in his ears, +and he would have given anything in reason to be +able to changes places, temporarily at least, with +the care-free horseman whose wiry, muscular figure +was struck out so artistically against the dun-colored +hillside.</p> + +<p>"Would I really do such a thing as that?" he +asked himself half incredulously, when the night-herd +and his grazing drove had become only a picturesque +memory; and out of the heart-stirrings +and pulse-quickenings came the answer: "I more +than half believe that I would—that I'd jump at +the chance." Then he added regretfully: "But +there isn't going to be any chance."</p> + +<p>"Any chance to do what?" rumbled a mellow +voice at his elbow, and Blount turned quickly to +find that a big, bearded man, smoking an abnormally +corpulent cigar, had come in to take his seat +on the divan.</p> +<p><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a></p> +<p>At another time Blount, the conventional Blount, +would have been self-conscious and embarrassed, as +any human being is when he is caught talking to +himself. But with the transformation had come a +battering down of doors in the house of the broader +fellowship, and he laughed good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>"You caught me fairly," he acknowledged. "I +thought I still had the place to myself."</p> + +<p>"But the chance?" persisted the big man, looking +him over appraisively. "You don't look like a man +who has had to hang round on the aidges hankerin' +after things he couldn't get."</p> + +<p>"I guess I haven't had to do that very often," +was the reflective rejoinder. "But a mile or so +back we passed a bunch of cattle, with the night +man riding watch; I was just saying to myself that +I'd like to change places with that night-herd—only +there wasn't going to be any chance."</p> + +<p>The bearded man's laugh was a deep-chested +rumbling suggestive of rocks rolling down a declivity.</p> + +<p>"Lordy gracious!" he chuckled. "If you was to +get a leg over a bronc', and the bronc' should find +it out—<a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a>Say, I've got a li'l' blue horse out on my +place in the Antelopes that'd plumb give his ears +to have you try it; he shore would. You take my +advice, and don't you go huntin' a job night-ridin' +in the greasewood hills. Don't you do it!"</p> + +<p>"I assure you I hadn't thought of doing it for +a permanency. But just for a bit of adventure, +if the chance should offer while I'm in the notion. +I believe I'd take it. I haven't ridden a cow-pony +for fourteen years, but I don't believe I've lost the +knack of it."</p> + +<p>"Ho!" said the big man. "Then you ain't as +much of a tenderfoot as you look to be. Shake!" +and he held out a hand as huge as a bear's paw. +Following the hand-grip he grew confidential. +"'Long in the afternoon I stuck my head in at the +door and saw you chewin' the rag with a thin-faced +old nester that couldn't set still in his chair while +he talked. Know him?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Blount promptly. "He has +the section opposite mine, and he got on at Omaha."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wouldn't want to know him if I was +you," was the bearded man's co<a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a>mment. Then: +"Tryin' to get you to invest in some o' his properties?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no."</p> + +<p>"Well, he will, if he gets a chance. He'd go furder'n +that; he'd nail you up to the cross and skin +you alive if there was any money in it for him. +His name's Simon Peter, and it ort to be Judas. +I know him down to the ground!"</p> + +<p>"Simon Peter?" said Blount inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"Ya-as; Simon Peter Hathaway. And my name's +Griggs; Griggs, of the Antelopes, back o' Carnadine—if +anybody should ask you who give you your +pointer on Simon Peter Judas. I don't blacklist no +man in the dark, and I've said a heap more to that +old ratter's face than I've ever said behind his +back. Ump! him a-wrigglin' in that chair you're +settin' in and tryin' to fix up some way to skin +you! Don't tell me! I know blame' well what he +was tryin' to do."</p> + +<p>Blount listened and was interested, not so much +in the bit of gossip as in the big, red-faced ranchman, +who so evidently had a grudge to pay off.</p> +<p><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a></p> +<p>"I am not likely to have any dealings with Mr. +Hathaway," he rejoined. "And I must do him the +bare justice of saying that he wasn't trying to sell +me anything. The shoe was on the other foot. He +seemed to be afraid he was in danger of losing out, +and he was asking my advice."</p> + +<p>"S.P. Hathaway lose out? Not on your life, my +young friend! You say he was askin' for advice? +You've done stirred up my curiosity a whole heap, +and I reckon you'll have to tell me who you are +before it'll ca'm down again."</p> + +<p>Blount laughed. "Mr. Hathaway thinks I am +a special agent for the Government, travelling on +business for the Forest Service."</p> + +<p>"The hell he does!" exploded the big man. Then +he reached over and laid a swollen finger on Blount's +knee. "Say, boy, before you or him ever gets off +this train—Sufferin' Moses! what was that?"</p> + +<p>The break came upon a thunderous crash transmitting +itself from car to car, and the long, heavy +train came to a juggling stop. The ranchman +sprang to his feet with an alacrity surprising in so +<a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a>huge a body and ducked to look out of the open +window.</p> + +<p>"Twin Buttes!" he gurgled. "And, say, it's a +wreck! We've hit something right slap in the middle +of the yard! Let's make a break for the scene +of the confliggration till we see who's killed!"</p> + +<p>Blount followed the ranchman's lead, but shortly +lost sight of the burly figure in the crowd of curious +passengers pouring from the hastily opened vestibules. +Seen at closer range, the accident appeared +to be disastrous only in a material sense. The +heavy "Pacific-type" locomotive had stumbled over +the tongue of a split switch, leaving the rails and +making a blockading barrier of itself across the +tracks. Nobody was hurt; but there would be a +delay of some hours before the track could be +cleared.</p> + +<p>Finding little to hold him in the spectacle of the +derailed locomotive, Blount strolled on through the +railroad yard to the station and the town. He remembered +the place chiefly by its name. In his +boyhood it had been the nearest railroad forwarding-point +for the mines at Lewiston, thirty miles +beyond the Lost Hills. Now, as it appeared, it +had become a lumber-shipping station. To the left +of the railroad there were numerous s<a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a>awmills, each +with its mountain of waste dominated by a black +chimney, screen-capped. For the supply of logs an +enormous flume led down from the slopes of the +forested range on the south, a trough-like water-chute +out of which, though the working-day was +ended, the great logs were still tumbling in an intermittent +stream.</p> + +<p>North of the town the valley broke away into a +region of bare mesas dotted with rounded, butte-like +hills, with the buttressing ranges on either side +to lift the eastern and western horizons. The northern +prospect enabled Blount to place himself accurately, +and the tide of remembrance swept strongly +in upon him. Some forty-odd miles away to the +northeast, just beyond the horizon-lifting lesser +range, lay the "short-grass" region in which he had +spent the happy boyhood. An hour's gallop through +the hills to the westward the level rays of the setting +sun would be playing upon the little station +of Painted Hat, the one-time shipping-point for the +home ranch. And half-way between Painted Hat +and the "Circle-Bar," nestling in the hollowed hands +of the mountains, were the horse-corrals of one<a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a> Debbleby, +a true hermit of the hills, and the boy Evan's +earliest school-master in the great book of Nature.</p> + +<p>Blount's one meliorating softness during the years +of exile had manifested itself in an effort to keep +track of Debbleby. He knew that the old horse-breeder +was still alive, and that he was still herding +his brood mares at the ranch on the Pigskin. The +young man, fresh from the well-calculated East, +threw up his head and sniffed the keen, cool breeze +sweeping down from the northern hills. He was +not given to impulsive plan-changing. On the contrary, +he was slow to resolve and proportionately +tenacious of the determination once made. But the +stirring of boyish memories accounted for something; +and in the sanest brain there are sleeping +cells of irresponsibility ready to spring alive at the +touch of suggestion. What if he should—</p> + +<p>He sat down upon the edge of the station platform +and thought it out deliberately. Since it would +be hours before the tracks could be cleared and the +rail journey resumed, what was to prevent him from +taking an immediate and delightful plunge into the +region of the heart-stirring recollections? Doubtless +old Jason Debbleby was at this moment sitting on the +door-step of his lonely ranch-house in the Pigskin +<a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a>foot-hills, smoking his corn-cob pipe and, quite possibly, +wondering what had become of the boy whom +he had taught to "rope down" and saddle and ride. +Blount estimated the distance as he remembered it. +With a hired horse he might reach Debbleby's by +late bedtime; and after a night spent with the old +ranchman he could ride on across the big mesa to +the capital.</p> + +<p>Another ineffectual attempt to find out how soon +the relief train from the capital might be expected +decided Blount. Arranging with the Pullman conductor +to have his hand-luggage left in Gantry's +office at the capital, the man in search of his boyhood +crossed quickly to a livery-stable opposite the +station, bargained for a saddle-horse, borrowed a +poncho and a pair of leggings, and prepared to +break violently, for the moment at least, with all +the civilized traditions. He would go and see Debbleby—drop +in upon the old horse-breeder without +warning, and thus get his first revivified impression +of the homeland unmixed with any of the disappointing +changes which were doubtless awaiting him at +the real journey's end.</p> +<p><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a></p> +<p>Now it chanced that the livery-stable was an adjunct +to the single hotel in the small sawmill town, +and as Blount was mounting to ride he saw the thin-faced +man, whom the ranchman, Griggs, had named +for him, standing on the porch of the hotel in earnest +talk with three others who, from their appearance, +might have figured either as "timber jacks" or cowboys. +<a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a>Blount was on the point of recognizing his +companion of the Pullman smoking-compartment as +he rode past the hotel to take the trail to the northward, +but a curious conviction that the gentleman +with the bird-of-prey eyes was making him the subject +of the earnest talk with the three men of doubtful +occupation restrained him. A moment later, +when he looked back from the crossing of the +railroad track, he saw that all four of the men on +the porch were watching him. This he saw; and +if the backward glance had been prolonged for a +single instant he might also have seen a big, barrel-bodied +man with a red face stumbling out of the side +door of the shack hotel to make vigorous and commanding +signals to stop him. But this he missed.</p> + +<p>There was an excuse for the oversight as well as +for the speedy blotting out of the picture of the +four men watching him from the porch of the hotel. +With a fairly good horse under him, with the squeak +of the saddle-leather in his ears and the smell of it +in his nostrils, and with the wide world of the immensities +into which to ride unhampered and f<a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a>ree, +the lost boyhood was found. Not for the most soul-satisfying +professional triumph the fettered East +could offer him would he have curtailed the free-reined +flight into the silent wilderness by a single +mile.</p> + +<p>For the first half-hour of the invigorating gallop +the fugitive from civilization had the sunset glow to +help him find the trail. After that the moon rose, +and the landmarks, which had seemed more or less +familiar in daylight, lost their remembered featurings. +During the first few miles the trail had +led broadly across the table-land, with the eastern +mountains withdrawing and the Lost River +Range looming larger as its lofty sky-line was struck +out sharply against the sunset horizon. Farther on, +in the transition darkness between sunset and moonrise, +the trail disappeared entirely; but so long as +he was sure of the general direction, Blount held on +and gave the tireless little bronco a loose rein. The +Debbleby ranch lay among the farther foot-hills +of the western range, with the broad gulch of the +Pigskin cutting a plain highway through the mountains. +If he could find one of the head-water streams +of the Pigskin, all of which took their rise in the +<a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a>gulches of the mesa, there could be no danger of +losing the way.</p> + +<p>It was some little time after he had left the +shoulderings of the eastern range behind that a singular +thing happened. Far away on his right he +heard the sound of galloping hoofs. Though the +moon was nearly full and the treeless landscape +was bare of any kind of cover, he could not make +out the horseman who was evidently passing him +and going in the same direction. At first he thought +it was some one who was making a <i>détour</i> to avoid +him. Then he smiled at the absurdity of the guess +and concluded that he himself was off the trail. +This conclusion was confirmed a little later when +two other travellers, announcing themselves to the +ear as the first one had, and also, like the first, invisible +to the sharpest eye-sweep of the moonlit plain, +passed him at speed.</p> + +<p>After that Blount had the solitudes and vastnesses +to himself, and it was not until after the +mesa-land had been crossed without a sign of a +water-leading gulch to guide him to the Pigskin, +and the bronco was patiently picking its way through +the hogback of the western range, that the boyish +thing he had been led to do took shape as an adventure +<a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a>which might have discomforting consequences.</p> + +<p>For, after the hired bronco had wandered aimlessly +through many gulches and had climbed a good +half-score of the hogback hills, the young man from +the East admitted that the boyhood memories were +hopelessly and altogether at fault in the deceptive +moonlight. Blount gave the horse a breathing halt +on one of the hogbacks and tried to reconstruct the +puzzling hills into some featuring that he could remember. +The effort was fruitless. He was very +thoroughly and painstakingly lost.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + +<h3>THE HIGHBINDERS</h3> + + +<p>When the three men who had pulled him from +his horse and tied him hand and foot had withdrawn +to the farther side of the tiny camp-fire to wrangle +morosely over what should be done with him, Evan +Blount found it simply impossible to realize that +they were actually dis<a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a>cussing, as one of the expedients, +the propriety of knocking him on the head +and flinging his body into the near-by canyon.</p> + +<p>The difficulty of comprehension lay in the crude +grotesqueness of the thing that had happened. Five +minutes earlier he had been riding peacefully up +the trail in the moonlight, wondering how thoroughly +he was lost and how much farther it was to Debbleby's. +Then, at a sudden sharp turn in the canyon +bridle-path, he had stumbled upon the camp-fire, +had heard an explosive "Hands up!" and had +found himself confronted by three men, with one of +the three covering him with a sawed-off Winchester. +From that to the unhorsing and the binding had +been merely a rough-and-tumble half-minute, inasmuch +as he was unarmed and the surprise had been +complete; but the grotesquery remained.</p> + +<p>Since his captors had as yet made no attempt to +rob him, he could only surmise that some incredibly +foolish mistake had been made. But when he +remembered the three invisible horsemen who had +passed him on the broad mesa he was not so certain +about the mistake. Most naturally, his thoughts +went back to the little episode on the hotel porch. +The passing glance he had given to the three men +with whom the fourth man, Hathaway, had been +talking did not enable him to identify them with +<a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a>the three who were sourly discussing his fate at the +near-by fire; none the less, the conclusion was fairly +obvious. Thus far he had been either too busy or +too bewildered to break in; but when the more murderous +of the expedients was apparently about to be +adopted, he decided that it was high time to try to +find out why he was to be effaced. Whereupon he +called across to the group at the fire.</p> + +<p>"Without wishing to interfere with any arrangements +you gentlemen are making, I shall be obliged +if you will tell me why you think you have found +it necessary to murder me."</p> + +<p>"You know mighty good and well why there's +one too many of you on Lost River, jest at this +stage o' the game," growled the hard-faced spokesman +who had held the Winchester while his two +accomplices were doing the unhorsing and the binding.</p> + +<p>"But I don't," insisted Blount good-naturedly. +"So far as I know, there is only one of me—on Lost +River or anywhere else."</p> + +<p>"That'll do for you; it ain't your put-in, nohow," +was the gruff decision of the court; but Blount was +<a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a>too good a lawyer to be silenced thus easily.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you might not especially regret killing +the wrong man, but in the present case I am very +sure I should," he went on. And then: "Are you +quite sure you've got the right man?"</p> + +<p>"The boss knows who you are—that's enough +for us."</p> + +<p>"The boss?" questioned Blount.</p> + +<p>"Yas, I said the boss; now hold your jaw!"</p> + +<p>Blount caught at the word. In a flash the talk +with Gantry on the veranda of the Winnebasset +Club flicked into his mind.</p> + +<p>"There is only one boss in this State," he countered +coolly. "And I am very sure he hasn't given +you orders to kill me."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" demanded the spokesman.</p> + +<p>Blount repeated his assertion, adding jocularly: +"Perhaps you'd better call up headquarters and +<a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a>ask your boss if he wants you to kill the son of his +boss."</p> + +<p>At this the gun-holder came around the fire to +stand before his prisoner.</p> + +<p>"Say, pal—this ain't my night for kiddin', and +it hadn't ort to be your'n," he remarked grimly. +"The boss didn't say you was to be rubbed out—they +never do. But I reckon it would save a heap +o' trouble if you <i>was</i> rubbed out."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, I'm inclined to think it would +make a heap of trouble—for you and your friends, +and quite probably for the man or men who sent +you to waylay me. But, apart from all that, you've +got hold of the wrong man, as I told you a moment +ago."</p> + +<p>"No, by grapples! I hain't. I saw you in daylight. +If there's been any fumblin' done, I hain't +done it. So you see it ain't any o' my funeral."</p> + +<p>"Think not?" said Blount.</p> + +<p>"I know it ain't. Orders is orders, and you +<a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a>don't git over into them woods on Upper Lost +Creek with no papers to serve on nobody: see?"</p> + +<p>It was just here that the light of complete understanding +dawned upon Blount; and with it came +the disconcerting chill of a conviction overthrown. +As a theorist he had always scoffed at the idea that +a corporation, which is a creature of the law, could +afford to be an open law-breaker. But here was a +very striking refutation of the charitable assumption. +His smoking-room companion of the Pullman +car was doubtless one of the timber-pillagers who +had been cutting on the public domain. To such +a man an agent of the National Forest Service was +an enemy to be hoodwinked, if possible, or, in the +last resort, to be disposed of as expeditiously as +might be, and Blount saw that he had only himself +to blame for his present predicament, since he +had allowed the man to believe that he was a Government +emissary. Having this clew to the mystery, +his course was a little easier to steer.</p> + +<p>"I have no papers of the kind you think I have, +as you can readily determine by searching me," he +said. "My name is Blount, and I am the son of +ex-Senator David Blount, of this State. Now what +are you going to do with me?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a></p> +<p>"What's that you say?" grated the outlaw.</p> + +<p>"You heard what I said. Go ahead and heave +me into the canyon if you are willing to stand for +it afterward."</p> + +<p>The hard-faced man turned without replying and +went back to the other two at the fire. Blount +caught only a word now and again of the low-toned, +wrangling argument that followed. But from the +overheard word or two he gathered that there were +still some leanings toward the sound old maxim +which declares that "dead men tell no tales." +When the decision was finally reached, he was left +to guess its purport. Without any explanation the +thongs were taken from his wrists and ankles, and +he was helped upon his horse. After his captors +were mounted, the new status was defined by the +spokesman in curt phrase.</p> + +<p>"You go along quiet with us, and you don't make +no bad breaks, see? I more'n half believe you been +lyin' to me, but I'm goin' to give you a chance to +prove up. If you don't prove up, you pass out—that's +all. Now git in line and hike out; and if +you're countin' on makin' a break, jest ricollect that +a chunk o' lead out of a Winchester kin travel a +heap faster thern your cayuse."</p> +<p><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a></p> +<p>If Blount had not already lost all sense of familiarity +with his surroundings, the devious mountain +trail taken by his captors would soon have convinced +him that the boyhood memories were no +longer to be trusted. Up and down, the trail zigzagged +and climbed, always penetrating deeper and +deeper into the heart of the mountains. At times +Blount lost even the sense of direction; lost it so +completely that the high-riding moon seemed to be +in the wrong quarter of the heavens.</p> + +<p>For the first few miles the trail was so difficult +that speed was out of the question; but later, in +crossing a high-lying valley, the horses were pushed. +Beyond the valley there were more mountains, and +half-way through this second range the trail plunged +into a deep, cleft-like canyon with a brawling torrent +for its pathfinder. Once more Blount lost the sense +of direction, and when the canyon trail came out +upon broad uplands and became a country road +with bordering ranches watered by irrigation canals, +into which the mountain torrent was diverted, there +were no recognizable landmarks to tell him whither +his captors were leading him.</p> + +<p>As he was able to determine by holding his +watch, face up, to the moonlight, it was nearly midnight +when the silent cavalcade of four turned aside +from the main road into an avenue of spreading +cottonwood trees. At its head the avenue became +<a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a>a circular driveway; and fronting the driveway a +stately house, with a massive Georgian facade and +colonnaded portico, flung its shadow across the +white gravel of the carriage approach.</p> + +<p>There were lights in one wing of the house, and another +appeared behind the fan-light in the entrance-hall +when the leader of the three highbinders had +tramped up the steps and touched the bell-push. +Blount had a fleeting glimpse of a black head +with a fringe of snowy wool when the door was +opened, but he did not hear what was said. After +the negro serving-man disappeared there was a +little wait. At the end of the interval the door +was opened wide, and Blount had a gruff order to +dismount.</p> + +<p>What he saw when he stood on the door-mat +beside his captor merely added mystery to mystery. +Just within the luxuriously furnished hall, where +the light of the softly shaded hall lantern served +to heighten the artistic effect of her red housegown, +stood a woman—a lady, and evidently the +mistress of the Georgian mansion. She was small +and dark, with brown eyes that were almost childlike +in their winsomeness; a woman who might +be twenty, or thirty, or any age between. Beautiful +she was not, Blount decided, comparing her instantly, +as he did all women, with Patricia Anners; +but—He was not given time t<a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a>o add the qualifying +phrase or to prepare himself for what was +coming.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Barto?" the little lady asked, turning +to the man with the gun.</p> + +<p>The reply was direct and straight to the purpose.</p> + +<p>"Excuse <i>me</i>; but I jest wanted to ask if you know +this here young feller. He's been allowin' to me +th't he is—"</p> + +<p>"Of course," she said quickly, and stepping forward +she gave her hand and a welcome to the dazed +one. "Please come in; we have been expecting +you." Then again to the man with the Winchester: +"Thank you so much, Barto, for showing the gentleman +the way to Wartrace Hall."</p> + +<p>It was all done so quietly that Blount was still +unconsciously holding the hand of welcoming while +his late captors were riding away down the cottonwood-shaded +avenue. When he realized what he +was doing he was as nearly embarrassed as a selfcontained +young lawyer could well be. But his +impromptu hostess quickly set him at ease.</p> +<p><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a></p> +<p>"You needn't make any explanations," she hastened +to say, smiling up at him and gently disengaging +the hand which he was only now remembering +that he had forgotten to relinquish. "Naturally, +I inferred that you were in trouble, and that your +safety depended in some sense upon my answer. +Were you in trouble?"</p> + +<p>Blount perceived immediately how utterly impossible +it would be to make her, or any one else, +understand the boyish impulse which had prompted +him to leave his train, or the curious difficulty into +which the impulse had precipitated him. So his explanation +scarcely explained.</p> + +<p>"I was on my way to a ranch—that is, to the capital—when +these men held me up," he stammered. +"They—they mistook me for some one else, I think, +and for reasons best known to themselves they +brought me here. If you could direct me to some +place where I can get a night's lodging—"</p> + +<p>"There is nothing like a tavern within twenty +miles of here," she broke in; "nor is there any +house within that radius which would refuse you a +night's shelter, Mr.—"</p> + +<p>Blount made a quick dive for his card-case, found +it, and hastened to introduce himself by name. She +took the bit of pasteboard, and, since she scarcely +<a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a>glanced at the engraved line on it, he found himself +wholly unable to interpret her smile.</p> + +<p>"The card is hardly necessary," she said; and +then, to his complete bewilderment: "You are very +much like your father, Mr. Blount."</p> + +<p>"You know my father?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>She laughed softly. "Every one knows the senator," +she returned, "and I can assure you that +his son is heartily welcome under this roof. Uncle +Barnabas"—to the ancient serving-man who was +still hovering in the background—"have Mr. +Blount's horse put up and the blue room made +ready."</p> + +<p>Blount followed his still unnamed hostess obediently +when she led the way to the lighted library</p> + +<p>in the wing of the great house.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Barnabas will come for you in a little +while," she told him, playing the part of the gracious +lady to the line and letter. "In the meantime +you must let me make you a cup of tea. I +am sure you must be needing it after having ridden +so far. Take the easy-chair, and we can talk comfortably +while the kettle is boiling. Are you new +to the West, Mr. Blount, or is this only a return +to your own? The senator is always talking about<a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a> +you, you know; but he is so inordinately proud of +you that he forgets to tell us all the really interesting +things that we want to know."</p> + +<p>The serving-man took his own time about coming +back; so long a time that Blount forgot that it was +past midnight, that he was a guest in a strange +house, and that he still had not learned the name +of his entertainer. For all this forgetfulness the +little lady with the dark-brown eyes was directly +responsible. Almost before he realized it, Blount +found himself chatting with her as if he had always +known her, making rapid strides on the way to confidence +and finding her alertly responsive in whatever +field the talk happened to fall. Apparently +she knew the world—his world—better than he knew +it himself: she had summered on the North Shore +and wintered in Washington. She knew Paris, and +when the conversation touched upon the Italian +art-galleries he was led to wonder if he had gone +through Italy with his eyes shut. At the next turn +of the talk he was forced to admit that not even +Patricia herself could speak more intelligently of the +English social problem; and when it came to the +vital questions of the American moment he gasped +again and wondered if he were awake—if it could +<a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a>be possible that this out-of-place Georgian mansion +and its charming mistress could be part and parcel +of the West which had so far outgrown the boyhood +memories.</p> + +<p>Since all things mundane must have an end, the +old butler with the white-fringed head came at last +to show him the way to his luxurious lodgings on +the second floor of the mansion. With a touch of +hospitality which carried Blount back to his one +winter in the South, the hostess went with him as +far as the stair-foot, and her "Good-night" was +<a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a>still ringing musically in his ears when the old negro +lighted the candles in the guest-room, put another +stick of wood on the small fire that was crackling +and snapping cheerfully on the hearth, and bobbed +and bowed his way to the door. Blount saw his +last chance for better information vanishing for the +night, and once more broke with the traditions.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Barnabas, before you go, suppose you tell +me where I am," he suggested. "Whose house is +this?"</p> + +<p>The old man stopped on the threshold, chuckling +gleefully. "A-ain't you know dat, sah?—a-ain't de +mistis done tell you dat? You's at Wa'trace Hall—Mahsteh +Majah's new country-house; yes, sah; +dat's whah you is—kee-hee!"</p> + +<p>"And who is 'Master Major'?" pressed Blount, +whose bewilderment grew with every fresh attempt +to dispel it.</p> +<p><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a></p> +<p>"A-ain't she tell you dat?—kee-hee! Ev'body +knows Mahsteh Majah; yes, sah. If de mistis +ain't tell you, ol' Barnabas ain't gwine to—no, sah. +Ah'll bring yo'-all's coffee in de mawnin'; yes, sah—good-night, +sah—kee-hee!" And the door closed +silently upon the wrinkled old face and the bobbing +head.</p> + +<p>Having nothing else to do, Blount went to bed, +but sleep came reluctantly. Life is said to be full +of paper walls thinly dividing the commonplace +from the amazing; and he decided that he had +surely burst through one of them when he had given +place to the vagrant impulse prompting him to go +horseback-riding when he should have gone comfortably +to bed in his sleeper to wait for the track-clearing.</p> + +<p>Whither had a curiously bizarre fate led him? +Where was "Wartrace Hall," and who was "Mahsteh Majah"? +Who was the winsome little lady +who looked as if she might be twenty, and had +all the wit and wisdom of the ages at her tongue's +end—who had held him so nearly spellbound over +the teacups that he had entirely lost sight of everything +but his hospitable welcome?</p> +<p><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a></p> +<p>These and kindred speculations kept him awake +for a long time after the door had closed behind +the ancient negro; and he was just dropping off +into his first loss of consciousness when the familiar +purring of a motor-car aroused him. There was a +window at his bed's head, and he reached over and +drew the curtain. The view gave upon the avenue +of cottonwoods and the circular carriage approach. +A touring-car, with its powerful head-lights paling +the white radiance of the moon, was drawn up at +the steps, and he had a glimpse of a big man, +swathed from head to heel in a dust-coat, descending +from the tonneau.</p> + +<p>"I suppose that will be 'Mahsteh Majah,'" he +mused sleepily. "That's why the little lady was +sitting up so late—she was waiting for him." Then +to the thronging queries threatening to return and +keep him awake: "Scat!—go away! call it a pipe-dream +and let me go to sleep!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + +<h3>AT WARTRACE HALL</h3> + + +<p>In his most imaginative moments, Evan Blount +had never prefigured a home-coming to coincide in +any detail of it with the re<a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a>ality.</p> + +<p>When he opened his eyes on the morning following +the night of singular adventures, the sun was +shining brightly in at the bed's-head window, a +cheerful fire was blazing on the hearth, and his +father, a little heavier, a little grayer, but with the +same ruggedly strong face and kindly eyes, was +standing at his bedside.</p> + +<p>"Father!"—and "Evan, boy!" were the simple +words of greeting; but the mighty hand-grip which +went with them was for the younger man a confirmation +of the filial hope and a heart-warming +promise for the future. Following instantly, there +came a rush of mingled emotions: of astoundment +that he had recognized no familiar landmark in the +midnight faring through the hills or on the approach +to the home of his childhood; of something +akin to keen regret that the old had given place so +thoroughly and completely to the new; of a feeling +bordering on chagrin that he had been surprised +into accepting the hospitable advances of a woman +whom he had been intending to avoid, and for whom +he had hitherto cherished—and meant to cherish—a +settled aversion.</p> + +<p>But at the hand-gripping moment there was no +time for a nice weighing of emotions. He was in +his father's house; the home-coming, some phases +of which he had vaguely dreaded, was a fact accomplished, +<a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a>and the new life—the life which must +be lived without Patricia—was fairly begun. Also, +there were many arrears to be brought up.</p> + +<p>"Intuition, on the manward side of it at least, +doesn't go," he was saying with half-boyish candor. +"I was awake last night when you drove home in +the motor, and I looked out of the window and saw +you as you came up the steps. According to the +psychics, there ought to have been some inward +stirrings of recognition, but there weren't—not a +single thrill. Did the little—er—did Mrs. Blount +tell you that I was here?"</p> + +<p>"She did so; but she couldn't tell me much more. +Say, son, how on top of earth did you happen to +blow in at midnight, with Jack Barto for your herd +leader?"</p> + +<p>"It's a fairy tale, and you won't believe it—of a +Blount," was the laughing reply. "I left Boston +Monday, and should have reached the capital last +night. But my train was laid out by a yard wreck +at Twin Buttes just before dark, and I left it and +took to the hills—horseback. Don't ask me why +I did such a thing as that; I can only say that the +smell of the sage-brush got into my blood and I +simply had to do it."</p> + +<p>The old cattle-king was standing with his feet +planted wide apart and his hands deep in his pockets. +"You hired a horse!" he chuckled, with the humorous +wrinkles coming and going at the corners of th<a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a>e +kindly eyes. "Did you have the nerve to think +you were going to climb down from a three-legged +stool in a Boston law office one day and ride the +fifty miles from Twin Buttes to the capital the +next?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; I wasn't altogether daft. But knowing +where I was, I did think I could ride out to Debbleby's. +So I hired the bronco and set out—and +that reminds me: the horse will have to be sent +back to the liveryman in Twin Buttes, some way."</p> + +<p>"Never mind the cayuse. Shackford would have +made you a present of it outright if you had told +him who you were. Go on with your story. It +listens like a novel."</p> + +<p>"I took the general direction all right on leaving +Twin Buttes, and kept it until I got among the Lost +River hogbacks. But after that I was pretty successfully +lost. I'm ashamed to tell it, but about half +of the time the moon didn't seem to be in the right +place."</p> + +<p>"Lost, were you? And Jack Barto found you?" +queried the father.</p> +<p><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a></p> +<p>"Barto hadn't lost me to any appreciable extent," +was the half-humorous emendation. And then: +"Who is this ubiquitous Barto who goes around +playing the hold-up one minute and the good angel +the next?"</p> + +<p>"He is a sort of general utility man for Hathaway, +the head pusher of the Twin Buttes Lumber Company. +He is supposed to be a timber-cruiser and +log-sealer, but I reckon he doesn't work very hard +at his trade. Down in the lower wards of New York +they'd call him a boss heeler, maybe. But you say +'hold-up'; you don't mean to tell me that Jack +Barto robbed you, son!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; he held me up with a gun while his +helpers pulled me off the bronco and hog-tied me, +and then fell to discussing with the other two the +advisability of knocking me on the head and dropping +me into Lost River Canyon—that's all. Of +course, I knew they had stumbled upon the wrong +man; and after a while I succeeded in making Barto +accept that hypothesis; at least, he accepted it sufficiently +to bring me here for identification. Since +he wouldn't talk, and I didn't recognize the trail +<a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a>or the place, I hadn't the slightest notion of my +whereabouts—not the least in the world; didn't +know where he was taking me or where I had landed +when we stopped here."</p> + +<p>The big man was leaning against the foot-rail of +the bed and frowning thoughtfully. "Talked about +dropping you into Lost River, did they? H'm. I +reckon we'll have to look into that a little. Who +set them on, son? Got any idea of that?"</p> + +<p>"I have a very clear idea: it was this man Hathaway +you speak of—a big ranchman named Griggs +told me his name. He came across in the Pullman +with me from Omaha; middle-aged, tall, and slim, +with a hatchet face and owlish eyes. Before I +learned his name we had talked a bit—killing time +in the smoking-room. He said he was interested in +mines and timber. Along toward the last he got the +notion into his head that I was a special agent of +some kind, on a mission for the Bureau of Forestry, +and I was foolish enough to let him escape with the +impression uncorrected."</p> + +<p>"That was Pete Hathaway, all right," was the<a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a> +senator's comment. "His company has been cutting +timber in the Lost River watershed reserves, +and he probably thought you were aiming to get +him. You say he sent Barto after you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm only guessing at that part of it. When I +rode away from Twin Buttes he was standing on +the porch of the tavern, talking to Barto and two +others; and I'm pretty sure he pointed me out to +them. An hour or so later, three horsemen passed +me on the mesa, one after another. I couldn't see +them, but I heard them. It might have been another +hour or more past that when they potted me."</p> + +<p>"You gave them your name?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and that seemed to tangle them a little. +Barto said he believed I was lying, but, anyway, +he'd give me a chance to 'prove up.' Then they +brought me here, and your—er—Mrs. Blount kindly +stepped into the breach for me."</p> + +<p>"You didn't know Honoria when you saw her?" +queried the father.</p> + +<p>"No; I wasn't in the least expecting—that is, I—yo<a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a>u +may remember that I had never met her," +stammered the young man, who had risen on his +elbow among the pillows.</p> + +<p>The older man walked to the window and stood +looking out upon the distant mountains for a full +minute before he faced about to say: "We might +as well run the boundary lines on this thing one +time as another, son. You don't like Honoria; +you've made up your mind you're not going to let +yourself like her. I don't mean to make it hard +for either of you if I can dodge it. This is her +home; but it is also yours, my boy. Do you reckon +you could—"</p> + +<p>Evan Blount made affectionate haste to stop the +half-pathetic appeal.</p> + +<p>"Don't let that trouble you for a minute," he +interposed. "I—Mrs. Blount is a very different +person from the woman I have been picturing her +to be; and if she were not, I should still try to believe +that we are both sufficiently civilized not to +quarrel." Then: "Have you breakfasted yet—you +and Mrs. Blount? But of course you have, long +ago."</p> + +<p>"Breakfasted?—without you? Not much, son! +And that reminds me: I was to come up here and +see if you were awake, and if you were, I was to +send Barnabas up with your coffee."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a>"You may tell Uncle Barnabas that I haven't +acquired the coffee-in-bed habit yet," laughed the +lazy one, sitting up. "Also, you may make my +apologies to Mrs. Blount and tell her I'll be down +<i>pronto</i>. There; doesn't that sound as if I were getting +back to the good old sage-brush idiom? Great +land! I haven't heard anybody say <i>pronto</i> since +I was knee-high to a hop-toad!"</p> + +<p>Farther on, when he was no longer in the first +lilting flush of the new impressions, Evan Blount +was able to look back upon that first day at Wartrace +Hall with keen regret; the regret that, in the +nature of things, it could never be lived over again. +In all his forecastings he had never pictured a homecoming +remotely resembling the fact. In each succeeding +hour of the long summer day the edges of +the chasm of the years drew closer together; and +when, in the afternoon, his father put him on a +horse and rode with him to a corner of the vast +home domain, a corner fenced off by sentinel cottonwoods +and watered by the single small irrigation +ditch of his chil<a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a>dish recollections; rode with him +through the screening cottonwoods and showed him, +lying beyond them, the old ranch buildings of the +"Circle-Bar," untouched and undisturbed; his heart +was full and a sudden mist came before his eyes to +dim the picture.</p> + +<p>"I've kept it all just as it used to be, Evan," the +father said gently. "I thought maybe you'd come +back some day and be sure-enough disappointed if +it were gone."</p> + +<p>The younger man slipped from his saddle and +went to look in at the open door of the old ranchhouse. +Everything was precisely as he remembered +it: the simple, old-fashioned furniture, the crossed +quirts over the high wooden mantel, his mother's +rocking-chair ... that was the final touch; he sat +down on the worn door-log and put his face in his +hands. For now the gaping chasm of the years was +quite closed and he was a boy again.</p> + +<p>Still later in this same first day there were ambling +gallops along the country roads, and the father explained +how the transformation from cattle-raising +to agriculture and fruit-growing had come about; +how the great irrigation project in Quaretaro Canyon +had put a thousand square miles of the fertile +mesa under cultivation; how with the inpouring of +the new population had come new blood, new methods, +<a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a>good roads, the telephone, the rural mail route, +and other civilizing agencies.</p> + +<p>The young man groaned. "I know," he mourned. +"I've lost my birth-land; it's as extinct as the +prehistoric lizards whose bones we used to find +sticking in the old gully banks on Table Mesa. By +the way, that reminds me: are there any of those +giant fossils left? I was telling Professor Anners +about them the other day, and he was immensely +interested."</p> + +<p>"We're all fossils—we older folks of the cattle-raising +times," laughed the man whom Richard +Gantry had called the "biggest man in the State." +"But there are some of the petrified bones left, +too, I reckon. If the professor is a friend of yours, +we'll get him a State permit to dig all he wants +to."</p> + +<p>"Yes; Professor Anners is a friend of mine," was +the younger Blount's half-absent rejoinder. But +after the admission was made he qualified it. "Perhaps +I ought to say that he is as much a friend as +his daughter will permit him to be."</p> + +<p>The qualifying clause was not thrown away upon<a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a> +the senator.</p> + +<p>"What-all has the daughter got against you, +son?" he asked mildly.</p> + +<p>"Nothing very serious," said Patricia's lover, +with a laugh which was little better than a grimace. +"It's merely that she is jealous of any one +who tries to share her father with her. Next to her +career—"</p> + +<p>"That's Boston, isn't it?" interrupted the ex-king +of the cattle ranges. Then he added: "I'm right +glad it hasn't come in your way to tie yourself up +to one of those 'careers,' Evan, boy."</p> + +<p>Now all the influences of this red-letter day had +been humanizing, and when Evan Blount remembered +the preservation of the old "Circle-Bar" +ranch-house, and the motive which had prompted +it, he told his brief love-tale, hiding nothing—not +even the hope that in the years to come Patricia +might possibly find her career sufficiently unsatisfying +to admit the thin edge of some wedge of reconsideration. +He felt better after he had told his +father. It was highly necessary that he should tell +some one; and who better?</p> + +<p>David Blount listened wi<a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a>th the far-away look in +his eyes which the son had more than once marked +as the greatest of the changes chargeable to the +aging years.</p> + +<p>"Think a heap of her, do you, son?" he said, +when the ambling saddle-animals had covered another +half-mile of the homeward journey.</p> + +<p>"So much that it went near to spoiling me when +she finally made me realize that I couldn't hold my +own against the 'career,'" was the young man's answer. +Then he added: "I want work, father—that +is what I am out here for; the hardest kind of work, +and plenty of it; something that I can put my heart +into. Can you find it for me?"</p> + +<p>There was the wisdom of the centuries in the +gentle smile provoked by this unashamed disappointed +lover's appeal.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't take it too hard—the career business—if +I were you, son," said the wise man. "And as +for the work, I reckon we can satisfy you, if your +appetite isn't too whaling big. How would a State +office of some kind suit you?"</p> + +<p>"Politics?" queried Blount, bringing his horse +down to the walk for which his father had set the +example. "I've thought a good bit about that, +though I haven't had any special training that way. +The schools of to-day are turning out business lawyers—men +<a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a>who know the commercial and industrial +codes and are trained particularly in their application +to the great business undertakings. That +has been my ambition: to be a business adviser, +and, perhaps, after a while to climb to the top of +the ladder and be somebody's corporation counsel."</p> + +<p>"But now you have changed your notion?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know; sometimes I wonder if I haven't. +There is another field that is exceedingly attractive +to me, and you have just named it. No man can +study the politics of America to-day without seeing +the crying need for good men: men who will not +let the big income they could command in private +undertakings weigh against pure patriotism and a +plain duty to their country and their fellow-men; +strong men who would administer the affairs of the +State or the nation absolutely without fear or favor; +men who will hew to the line under any and all +conditions. There's an awful dearth of that kind +of material in our Government."</p> + +<p>A quaint smile was playing under the drooping +mustaches of that veteran politician the Honorable +Senator Sage-Brush.</p> +<p><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a></p> +<p>"I reckon we do need a few men like that, Evan; +need 'em mighty bad. Think you could fill the bill +as one of them if you had a right good chance?"</p> + +<p>The potential hewer of political chips which should +lie as they might fall smiled at what seemed to be +merely an expression of parental favoritism.</p> + +<p>"I'm not likely to get the chance very soon," he +returned. "Just at present, you know, I am still +a legal resident of the good old Commonwealth of +Massachusetts, and a member of its bar—eligible to +office there, and nowhere else."</p> + +<p>"You'd be a citizen of this State by the time you +could get elected to an office in it," suggested the +senator gravely.</p> + +<p>"I know; the required term of residence here is +ridiculously short. But you are forgetting that I +am as completely unknown in the sage-brush hills +as you are well known. I couldn't get a nomination +for the office of pound-keeper."</p> + +<p>David Blount was chuckling softly as he threw +up the brim of the big sombrero he was wearing.</p> + +<p>"Sounds right funny to hear you talking that +way, son," he commented.<a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a> "Mighty near everybody +this side of the Bad Lands will tell you that the +slate hangs up behind the door at Wartrace Hall; +and I don't know but what some people would say +that old Sage-Brush Dave himself does most of the +writing on it. Anyhow, there is one place on it that +is still needing a name, and I reckon your name +would fit it as well as anybody's."</p> + +<p>The young man who was so lately out of the well-balanced +East was astounded.</p> + +<p>"Heavens!" he ejaculated. "You're not considering +me as a possibility on the State ticket before +I've been twenty-four hours inside of the State lines, +are you?"</p> + +<p>"No; not exactly as a possibility, son; that isn't +quite the word. We'll call it a sure thing, if you +want it. It's this way: we're needing a sort of political +house-cleaning right bad this year. We have +good enough laws, but they're winked at any day in +the week when somebody comes along with a fistful +of yellow-backs. The fight is on between the +people of this State and the corporations; it was +begun two years ago, and the people got the laws +all right, but they forgot to elect men who would +carry them out. This time it looks as if the voters +had got their knives sharpened. We've been a little +slow catching step maybe, but the marching orders +have gone out. We're aiming to clean house, and +do it right, this fall."</p> + +<p>"Not if the slate hangs behind your door—or an<a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a>y +man's, father," was the theorist's sober reminder. +"Reform doesn't come in by that road."</p> + +<p>"Hold on, boy; steady-go-easy's the word. Reform +comes in by any old trail it can find, mostly, +and thanks its lucky stars if it doesn't run up against +any bridges washed out or any mud-holes too deep +to ford. We've got a good man for governor right +now; not any too broad maybe, but good—church +good. Nobody has ever said he'd take a bribe; but +he isn't heavy enough to sit on the lid and hold it +down. Alec Gordon, the man who is going to succeed +him next fall, is all the different kinds of things +that the present governor isn't, so that is fixed."</p> + +<p>"How 'fixed'?" queried the younger man, who, +though he was not from Missouri, was beginning to +fear that he would constantly have to be shown.</p> + +<p>"In the same way that everything has to be +fixed if we are going to get results," was the calm +reply. "After the governor, the man upon whom +the most depends is the attorney-general. The fellow +who is in now, Dortscher, is one of the candidates, +but we've crossed his name off. The next +man we considered was Jim Rankin. In some ways +he's<a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a> fit; he's a hard fighter, and the man doesn't +live who can bluff him. But Jim's poor, and he +wants mighty bad to be rich, so I reckon that lets +him out."</p> + +<p>All of this was directly subversive of Evan Blount's +ideas touching the manner in which the political +affairs of a free country should be conducted, but +he was willing to hear more.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said.</p> + +<p>"What we want this time is one of your hew-to-the-line +fellows, son. Reckon you'd like to try it?"</p> + +<p>The young man who was less than a week away +from the atmosphere of the idealistic school and its +theories was frankly aghast. That his father should +be coolly proposing him for a high office in the State +in which, notwithstanding the birthright, he was as +new as the newest immigrant, seemed blankly incredible. +But when the incredibility began to subside, +the despotism of the machine methods which +could propose and carry out such unheard-of things +loomed maleficent.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we are a good many miles apart in +this matter<a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a> of politics," he said, when the proposal +had been given time to sink in. "America is supposed +to be a free country, with a representative +government elected by the suffrages of the people; +do you mean to say that you and a few of your +friends ignore the basic principles of democracy to +such an extent that you nominate and elect anybody +you please to any office in the State?"</p> + +<p>The far-seeing eyes of the veteran were twinkling +again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know about our being so far apart," +was the deprecatory protest. "You're just a little +bit long on theory, that's all, son. When it comes +down to the real thing—practical politics, as some +folks call it—somebody has to head the stampede +and turn it. And if we don't do it this coming fall, +the other bunch will."</p> + +<p>"What other bunch?"</p> + +<p>"In this case it's the corporations: the timber +people, the irrigation companies, and, most of all,<a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a> +the railroad."</p> + +<p>"Gantry seems to think that the railroads—or +his railroad, at least—are persecuted."</p> + +<p>The senator pulled his horse down to a still slower +walk. "Where did you see Dick Gantry?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>Evan told of the meeting on the veranda of the +Winnebasset Club, adding the further fact of the +college friendship.</p> + +<p>"Just happened so, did it?" queried the older +man, "that getting together last Saturday night?"</p> + +<p>"Why—yes, I suppose so. Dick knew I was in +Boston, and he said he had meant to look me +up."</p> + +<p>"I reckon he did," was the quiet comment; "yes, +I reckon he did. And he filled you up plumb full +of Hardwick McVickar's notions, <i>of</i> course. I reckon +that's about what he was told to do. But we won't +fall apart on that, son. To-morrow we'll run down +to the city, and you can look the ground over for +yourself. I want you to draw your own conclusions, +and then come and tell me what you'd like to do. +Shall we leave it that way?"</p> + +<p>Evan Blount acquiesced, quite without prejudice, +<a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a>to a firm conviction that his opinion, when formed, +was going to be based on the larger merits of the +case, upon a fair and judicial summing-up of the +pros and cons—all of them. He felt that it would +be a blow struck at the very root of the tree of good +government if he should consent to be the candidate +of the machine. But, on the other hand, he saw +instantly what a power a fearless public prosecutor +could be in a misguided commonwealth where the +lack was not of good laws, but of men strong enough +and courageous enough to administer them. He +would see: if the good to be accomplished were +great enough to over-balance the evil ... it was +a temptation to compromise—a sharp temptation; +and he found himself longing for Patricia, for her +clear-sighted comment which, he felt sure, would +go straight to the heart of the tangle.</p> + +<p>It was that thought of Patricia, and his need for +her, that made him absent-minded at the Wartrace +Hall dinner-table that evening; and the father, looking +on, suspected that Evan's taciturnity was an expression +of his prejudice against the woman who had +taken his mother's place. After dinner, when the +son, pleading weariness, retreated early to his room, +the senator's suspicion became a belief.</p><p><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a></p> + +<p>"You'll have to be right patient with the boy, +little woman," he said to the small person whom +Gantry had described as the court of last resort; +this when Evan had disappeared and the long-stemmed +pipe was alight. "I shouldn't wonder if +Boston had put some mighty queer notions into his +head."</p> + +<p>The little lady looked up from her embroidery +frame and a quaint smile was twitching at the corners +of the pretty mouth. "He is a dear boy, and +he is trying awfully hard to hate me," she said. +"But I sha'n't let him, David."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + +<h3>ON THE WING OF OCCASIONS</h3> +<p><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a></p> + +<p>From the time when it was heralded in the mammoth +New Year's edition of <i>The Plainsman</i> as "the +newest, the finest, and the most luxurious hostelry +west of the Missouri River," the Inter-Mountain +Hotel, in the Sage-brush capital, had been the +acceptable gathering-place of the clans, industrial, +promoting, or political.</p> + +<p>Anticipating this patronage, Clarkson, its bonanza-king +builder and owner, had amended the architect's +plans to make them include a convention-hall, +committee-rooms, and a complete floor of suites +with private dining-rooms. Past this, the amended +plans doubled the floor space of the lobby—debating-ground +dear to the heart of the country delegate—and +particular pains had been taken to make +this semi-public forum, where the burning question +of the moment could be caucussed and the shaky +partisan resworn to fealty, attractive and home-like; +the plainly tiled floor, leather-covered lounging-chairs, +and numerous and convenient cuspidors +lending an air of de<a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a>mocratic comfort which was +somehow missing in the resplendent, bemirrored, +onyx-plated bar, blazing with its cut glass and +polished mahogany.</p> + +<p>After the solid costliness of Wartrace Hall and +the thirty-mile spin in a high-powered gentleman's +roadster, which was only one of the three high-priced +motor-carriages in the Wartrace garage, Evan +Blount was not surprised to learn that his father +was registered in permanence for one of the private +dining-room suites at the Inter-Mountain. It was +amply evident that the simple life which had been +the rule of the "Circle-Bar" ranch household had +become a thing of the past; and though he charged +the new order of things to the ambition of his father's +wife, he could hardly cavil at it, since he was +himself a sharer in the comforts and luxuries.</p> + +<p>For the first few days after the father and son had +gone into bachelor quarters at the Inter-Mountain, +the returned exile was left almost wholly to his own +devices. Beyond giving him a good many introductions, +as the opportunities for them offered in the +stirring life of<a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a> the hotel, his father made few demands +upon him, and they were together only at +luncheon and dinner, the midday meal being usually +served in their suite, while for the dinner they met +by appointment in the hotel <i>café</i>.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding this hospitable neglect on the +part of his father, Evan Blount suffered no lack of +the social opportunities. Gantry was back, and, in +addition to a most ready availability as a social +sponsor, the traffic manager was both able and willing. +Almost before he had time to realize it, Blount +had been put in touch with the busy, breezy life of +the Western city, was exchanging nods or hand-shakings +with more people than he had ever known +in Cambridge or Boston, and was receiving more +invitations than he could possibly accept.</p> + +<p>"Pretty good old town, isn't it?" laughed Gantry +one day, when he had tolled Blount away from +the Inter-Mountain luncheon to share a table with +him in the Railway Club. "Getting so you feel a +little more at home with us?"</p> + +<p>"If I'm not, it isn't your fault, Dick, or the fault +of your friends. Naturally, I expected some sort of +a welcome as ex-Senator David Blount's son; but +that doesn't seem to cut any figure at all."</p><p><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a></p> + +<p>Gantry's smile was inscrutable.</p> + +<p>"The people with whom it cuts the largest figure +will never let you know anything about it. Just +the same, your sonship is cutting a good bit of ice, +if you care to know it. I've met a number of men +in the past few days who have discovered that you +are just about the brainiest thing that ever escaped +from the effete East and the law schools."</p> + +<p>"Tommy-rot!" derided the brainy one.</p> + +<p>"It's a fact. And they are prophesying all sorts +of a roseate and iridescent future for you. One +might almost imagine that the prophets are inspired +by that kind of gratitude which is a lively sense of +favors to come."</p> + +<p>"Oh, piffle! You know that is all nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"Is it?" queried the railroad man, stressing the +first word meaningly. Then, shifting the point of +attack: "You're mighty innocent, aren't you, old +man? But I think you might have told me. Goodness +knows, I'm as safe as a brick wall."</p> + +<p>"Might have told you what?"</p><p><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a></p> + +<p>"That you are going to run for attorney-general +against Dortscher."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't very well tell you what I didn't know +myself, Dick," was the sober reply. "Who has been +romancing to you?"</p> + +<p>"It's all over town. Everybody's talking about +it—talking a lot and guessing a good deal more. +You've got 'em running around in circles and uttering +loud and plaintive cries, especially Jim Rankin, +who had—or thought he had—a lead-pipe cinch on +the job. Dortscher is tickled half to death. He +knew he wasn't going to be allowed to succeed himself, +and he hates Rankin worse than poison."</p> + +<p>Blount was balancing the spoon on the edge of +his coffee-cup and scowling abstractedly. It was +the first little discord in the filial harmony—this +evidence that the powers were at work; almost a +breach of confidence. There was no avoiding the +distasteful conclusion. Without consulting his wishes, +without waiting for his decision, his father had publicly +committed him—taken "snap judgment" upon +him was<a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a> the way he phrased it.</p> + +<p>"Dick, will you believe me if I say that I haven't +authorized any such talk as this you've been hearing?" +he asked, looking up quickly.</p> + +<p>This time Gantry's smile was a grin of complete +intelligence.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's the way of it, eh? The Honorable +Senator took it out of your hands, did he? You'll +understand that I'm not casting any aspersions when +I say that it's exactly like him. If he has slated +you, you are booked to run; and if he runs you, +you'll be elected. Those are two of the things that +practically speak right out and say themselves here +in the old Sage-brush State."</p> + +<p>Blount was indignant—justly indignant, he persuaded +himself.</p> + +<p>"If that is the case, Gantry, it is high time that +some one should have nerve enough to break the +charm. I haven't said that I would accept the +nomination if it were tendered me, and I am not at +all sure that I am going to say it. And if I don't +say it, by all that's good and great, that settles it!"</p> + +<p>Gantry was plainly shocked. "You're not trying +<a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a>to make me believe that you've got nerve +enough to buck the old m—your father, I mean? +Why, great cats, Evan! you don't know what that +stands for in the greasewood hills!"</p> + +<p>"And I don't care, Dick. Up to this present moment +I am a free moral agent; I haven't surrendered +any right of decision to my father, or to any one +else, so far as I am aware."</p> + +<p>Gantry's eyes dropped to his plate, and his rejoinder +was not wholly free from guile.</p> + +<p>"Will you authorize me to contradict the talk as +I can?" he asked, without looking up.</p> + +<p>Blount was still warm enough to be peremptory.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you may contradict it. You may say that +it is entirely unauthorized—that I have told you so +myself." Then he remembered the claims of friendship. +"I'll be frank with you, Dick; this thing has +been mentioned to me once, but nothing was decided—absolutely +nothing. I didn't even promise +to take it under advisement."</p> + +<p>Among those who knew him only externally, Mr. +Richard Gantry had the reputation of owning a +loose tongue. But none recognized more justly t<a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a>han +the real Richard Gantry the precise instant at which +to bridle the loose tongue or when to make it wag +away from the subject which has reached its nicely +calculated climax. While the flush of irritation was +still making him ashamed that he had shown so +much warmth, Blount found himself gossiping with +his table companion over a social function two +days old; and subsequently, when the waiter brought +the cigars, Gantry was congratulating himself that +the danger-point, if any there were, was safely past.</p> + +<p>It was after the club luncheon, and while the two +young men were on their way to the smoking-room, +that some one on business bent stopped Gantry in +the corridor. Blount strolled on by himself, and, +finding the smoking-room unoccupied, went to +lounge in a lazy-chair standing in a little alcove +lined with bookcases and half screened by the +racks of the newspaper files. Notwithstanding the +successful topic changing at table, he was still brooding +over the false position in which his father's plans +had placed him; wherefore he craved solitude and a +chance to think things over fairly and without heat.</p> + +<p>Shortly afterward Gantry looked in, and, apparently +missing the half-concealed easy-chair and its +occupant in the bookcase alcove, went his way. H<a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a>e +had scarcely had time to get out of the building, one +would say, before two men entered the smoking-room, +coming down the corridor from the grill. +Blount saw them, and he made sure that they saw +him. But when they had taken chairs on the other +side of the sheltering newspaper files he was suddenly +assured that they had not seen him. They +were talking quite freely of him and of his father.</p> + +<p>"Well, the Honorable Dave has got McVickar +dead to rights this time," remarked the older of +the two, a hard-featured, round-bodied real-estate +promoter to whom Blount had been introduced on +his first day in the capital, but whose name he could +not now recall. "This scheme of the senator's for +shoving his son into the race for the attorney-generalship +is just about the foxiest thing he has +ever put across. You can bet the air was blue +in the Transcontinental Chicago offices when the +news got there."</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose McVickar will do?" asked +the other.</p> + +<p>"He will do anything the senator wants him to—he's +got to. Blount is land hungry, and I guess +he'll take a few more sections of the railroad mesa-land +under the Clearwater ditch. That was what +he did two years ago when McVickar wanted the +<a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a>right of way for the branch through Carnadine +County."</p> + +<p>"Don't you believe he's going to take any little +Christmas gift this time!" was the rasping reply. +"He'll sell the railroad something, and take good +hard money for it. It's a cinch. The railroad can't +afford to have the courts against it, and McVickar +will be made to sweat blood this heat. You watch +the wheels go round when McVickar comes out +here."</p> + +<p>Evan Blount found himself growing strangely sick +and faint. Could it be his father whom they were +thus calmly accusing of graft and trickery and +blackmailing methods too despicable to be imagined? +His first impulse was to confront the two; to demand +proofs; to do and say what a loyal son should. +But the crushing conviction that they were discussing +only well-known and well-assured facts unnerved +him; and after that he was anxious for only +one thing—that they might finish their cigars and +go away without discovering him.</p> + +<p>Fate was kind to him thus far. After a little +further talk, in which the accepted point of view of +the on looker at the great game was made still more +painfully evident for the unwilling listener, the men +went away. For a long time after they had gone, +Blount sat crumpled in the depths of the big chair, +chewing his extinct cigar and staring absently at the +row of books on a level with his eyes in the oppo<a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a>site +case.</p> + +<p>One clear thought, and one only, came out of the +sorrowful confusion: not for any inducement that +could now be offered would he lend himself to the +furtherance of his father's plans. Beyond this he did +not reason in the miserable hour wrought out in the +quiet of the club smoking-room. But when he got +up to go, another prompting was forcing its way +to the surface—a prompting to throw himself boldly +<a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a>into the scale against graft and chicanery; to redeem +at any cost, and by whatsoever means might +offer, the good old name which had been so shamefully +dragged in the mire.</p> + +<p>He did not know just how it was to be done, but +he told himself that he would find a way. That +the path would be full of thorns he could not doubt, +since every step in it would widen the breach which +must be opened between his father and himself. +Possibly it might lead him to the bar of justice as +that father's accuser, but even in that hard case he +must not falter. He said to himself, in a fresh access +of passionate determination, that though he +might have to blush for his father, Patricia should +not be made ashamed for her lover.</p> + +<p>Upon leaving the club, he paused long enough to +remember that he was in no fit frame of mind to +risk an immediate meeting with his father. To +make even a chance meeting impossible, he crossed +the street, and, passing through the Capitol grounds, +strolled aimlessly out one of the residence avenues +unt<a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a>il he came to the open country beyond the suburbs.</p> + +<p>It was quite late in the afternoon when he re-entered +the city by another street and boarded a +trolley car for the down-town centre. The long afternoon +tramp, and the conclusions it had bred, made +it imperative for him to see Gantry before the traffic +manager should leave his office for the day. His +business with the railroad man was purely personal. +He meant to ask Gantry a few pointed questions +requiring such answers as friendship may demand. +If Gantry's replies were such as he feared they +would be, he would seek his father and come at once +to a plain understanding with him.</p> + +<p>The trolley car dropped him within a square of +the railway station, on the second floor of which +Gantry had his business office. The shortest way +to the Sierra Avenue end of the station building +was through the great train-shed. Half-way up the +platform Blount met the west-bound Overland steaming +in from the eastern yards. At the Sierra Avenue +crossing the yard crew was cutting off a private car. +Blount saw the number on the medallion, "008," +and noted half absently the rich window-hangings +and the polished brass platf<a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a>orm railings. A car inspector +in greasy overalls and jumper was tapping +the wheels with his long-handled hammer.</p> + +<p>"Whose car is this?" asked Blount.</p> + +<p>"'Tis Misther McVickar's, sorr—the vice-prisidint +av the coompany," said the man.</p> + +<p>Blount turned away, saying something which the +hammer-man mistook for a word of thanks. So the +vice-president had come, hastening upon the wing +of occasions, it seemed. And in the light of the +overheard conversation in the club smoking-room, +it was only too easy to guess his errand in the Sage-brush +capital. He had come to make such terms as +he could with the man who was going to hold him up.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + +<h3>A BATTLE ROYAL</h3> + + +<p>Having already convinced himself that the time +was ripe for a straightforward declaration of principles, +Evan Blount saw in the arrival of the Overland, +with the vice-president's private car attached, +only an added argument for haste.</p><p><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a></p> + +<p>During the better part of the long tramp in the +outskirts of the city he had been halting between +two opinions. The fighting blood of the Tennessee +pioneer strain had clamored for its hearing, prompting +him to enter the lists, to set up the standard +of honesty and fair-dealing in the Blount name, to +plunge into the approaching political campaign with +a single purpose—the purpose of overthrowing the +power of the machine in his native State. On the +other hand, filial affection had pleaded eloquently. +The battle for political honesty would inevitably involve +his father; would, if successful, defeat and disgrace +him. As often as he thought he had closed +decisively with the idealistic determination, the other +side of the argument sprang up again, keen-edged +and biting. Up to the present moment he had owed +his father everything—was still owing him day by +day. Would it not be the part of a son to drop out +quietly, leaving the political house-cleaning for some +one who would not be obliged to pay such a costly +price?</p> + +<p>It was the idealistic decision which had been in the +saddle when he dropped from the trolley car at the +western portal of the railway station, and which was +<a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a>sending him to seek the scale-turning interview with +Gantry. But, after all, it was chance and the swift +current of events which seized upon him and swept +him along, smashing all the arguments and fine-spun +theories. Before he had gone ten steps in the +direction of Gantry's office, some one in the throng +of debarking Overland travellers called his name. +Turning quickly, he found himself face to face with +a white-haired little gentleman who had plucked impatiently +at his sleeve.</p> + +<p>"Why, bless my soul! Of all the lucky miracles!" +gasped the young man who, but an instant earlier, +had been deaf and blind to all external things. And +then: "Where is Patricia?"</p> + +<p>"She's here, somewhere," snapped the little gentleman +irascibly. "I've lost her in this confounded +mob. Find her for me. I've got my reading-glasses +on, and I can't see anything. Why don't they have +this barn of a place lighted up?"</p> + +<p>"Stand still right where you are," Blount directed, +and a moment later he had found Patricia guarding +a pair of suit-cases which were too heavy for her to +carry.</p> + +<p>"You poor lost child!" was his burbled greeting.</p> +<p><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a></p> +<p>"You don't mean to tell me that <i>this</i> is the West +to which you said you were coming?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not lost; I'm here. It's father who is lost," +she laughed. Then she answered his question; +"Yes, this is the West I meant, and if you haven't +been telling the truth about it—"</p> + +<p>Blount had snatched up the two hand-bags and +had effected a reunion of the scattered pair. The +little gentleman, standing immovable, as he had +been told to do, was blinking impatiently through +his reading-glasses at the surging throng. When +Blount came up, the professor stabbed him with +a sharp forefinger.</p> + +<p>"Well, we're here, young man," he barked. "If +you've been telling me fibs about those Megalosauridæ +which you said could be dug out of your sage-brush +hills, you'll pay our fare back home again—just +make up your mind to that. Now show us +the best hotel in this mushroom city of yours, and +do it quickly."</p> + +<p>Having a hospitable thing to do, Blount shoved +his problem into a still more remote backgr<a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a>ound +and bestirred himself generously. Though the Inter-Mountain +was only three squares distant, he chartered +the best-looking auto he could find in the +rank of waiting vehicles, put his charges into it, and +went with them to do the honors at the hotel. By +this postponement of the visit to Gantry he missed +a meeting which would have done something toward +solving a part of his problem. But for the hospitable +turning aside he might have reached the railroad +office in time to see a round-bodied man halting at +the open door of Gantry's private room for a parting +word with the traffic manager.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; he fell for it, all right," was the form +the parting word took. "If you had seen his face +when Lackner and I came away, you'd have said +there was battle, murder, and sudden death in it for +somebody."</p> + +<p>"But, see here, Bradbury," Gantry held his visitor +to say, "it wasn't in the game that you were to fill +him up with a lot of lies. I won't stand for that, +you know. He is too good a fellow, and too good +a friend of mine."</p> + +<p>It was at this conjuncture that Blount, if he had +been present and invisible, would have seen a sour +smile wrinkling upon the face of the club gossip.</p> + +<p>"I owe the senator one or two on my own account, +Gantry. But it wasn't necessary to go out +of the beaten path. If young Blount or his daddy<a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a> +would like to sue us for libel, we could prove every +word that was said—or prove that it was common +report; too common to be doubted. And it got the +young fellow; got him right in the solar plexus. If +you don't see some fireworks within the next few +days, I miss my guess and lose my ante."</p> + +<p>This is what Evan Blount, carrying out his intention +of going to Gantry, might have seen and heard. +On the other hand, if he had lingered a few minutes +longer on the station platform he could scarcely have +failed to mark the side-tracking of private car "008," +and he might have seen the herculean figure of the +vice-president crossing to the carriage-stand to climb +heavily into a waiting automobile.</p> + +<p>Mr. McVickar's order to the chauffeur was curtly +brief, and a little later the vice-president entered +the lobby of the Inter-Mountain and shot a brisk +question at the room-clerk.</p> + +<p>"Is Senator Blount in his rooms?"</p> + +<p>"I think not. He was here a few minutes ago. +I'll send a boy to hunt him up for you. You want +your usual suite, I suppose, Mr. McVickar?"</p> + +<p>"No; I'm not stopping overnight. Is young<a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a> +Blount here in the hotel?"</p> + +<p>"He has just gone up to the fifth floor with some +friends of his—Mr. Anners and his daughter, from +Boston. Shall I hold him for you when he comes +down?"</p> + +<p>"No; I want to see the senator. Hustle out another +boy or two. I can't wait all night."</p> + +<p>It was at this moment that Evan Blount, bearing +luggage-checks and going in search of the house +baggageman, missed another incident which might +have drawn him back suddenly to his problem and +its unsettled condition. The incident was the meeting +between his father and the railroad vice-president +at the room-clerk's counter. It was neither +hostile nor friendly; on McVickar's part it was +gruffly business-like.</p> + +<p>"Well, Senator, I'm here," was the follow-up of +the perfunctory hand-shake. "Let's find a place +where we can flail it out," and together the two +entered an elevator.</p> + +<p>Reaching the floor of the private dining-room<a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a> +suites, the ex-cattle-king led the way in silence to +his own apartments; rather let us say he pointed +the way, since in the march down the long corridor +the two field commanders tramped evenly abreast +as if neither would give the other the advantage +of an inch of precedence. In the sitting-room of +the private suite the senator snapped the latch on +the door, and pressed the wall-button for the electric +lights. McVickar dragged a chair over to one +of the windows commanding a view of the busy +street, and dropping solidly into it, like a man bracing +himself for a fight, began abruptly:</p> + +<p>"I suppose we may as well cut out the preliminaries +and come to the point at once, Blount. +Ackerton wired me that you had definitely announced +your son as a candidate for the attorney-generalship. +Have you?"</p> + +<p>The senator had found an unopened box of cigars +in a cabinet and he was inserting the blade of his +pocket-knife under the lid when he said, with good-natured +irony: "The primaries do the nominating +in this State, Hardwick. Didn't you know that?"</p> + +<p>"See here, Blount; I've come half-way across the +continent to thresh this thin<a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a>g out with you, face to +face, and I'm not in the humor to spar for an opening. +Do you mean to run your son or not? That +is a plain question, and I'd like to have an equally +plain answer."</p> + +<p>"I told you two weeks ago what you might expect +if you insisted on sticking your crow-bar in +among the wheels this fall, McVickar, but you +wouldn't believe me. I'll say it again if you want +to hear it."</p> + +<p>"And I told you two weeks ago that we couldn't +stand for any such programme as the one you had +mapped out. And I added that you might name +your own price for an alternative which wouldn't +confiscate us and drive us off the face of the earth."</p> + +<p>"Yes; and I named the price, if you happen to +remember."</p> + +<p>"I know; you said you wanted us to turn everything +over to the Paramounters and take our chances +on a clean administration. Naturally, we're not +going to do any such Utopian thing as that. What +I want to know now is what it is going to cost us to +do the practical and possible thing."</p> +<p><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a></p> +<p>"Want to buy me outright this time, do you, +Hardwick?" said the boss, still smiling.</p> + +<p>"We"—McVickar was going to say—"We have +bought you before," but he changed the retort to +a less offensive phrasing—"We have had no difficulty +heretofore in arriving at some practical and +sensible <i>modus vivendi</i>, and we shouldn't have now. +But as a condition binding upon any sort of an +arrangement, I am here to say that we can't let you +nominate and elect your son as attorney-general; +that's out of the question. If it's going to prove +a personal disappointment to you, we'll be reasonable +and try to make it up to you in some other way."</p> + +<p>Again the grimly humorous smile was twinkling +in the gray eyes of the old cattleman. "What is +the market quotation on disappointments, right +now, Hardwick?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>With another man McVickar might have been +too diplomatic to show signs of a shortening temper. +But David Blount was an open-eyed enemy of long +standing.</p> + +<p>"I don't know anybody west of the Missouri River +who has a better idea of market values than you +<a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a>have," the vice-president countered smartly. Then, +dropping a heavy hand upon the arm of his chair: +"This thing has got to be settled here and now, +Blount. If you put your son in as public prosecutor, +you can have but one object in view—you +mean to squeeze us till the blood runs. We are +willing to discount that object before the fact!"</p> + +<p>"So you have said before, a number of times and +in a whole heap of different ways. It's getting sort +of monotonous, don't you think?"</p> + +<p>"I sha'n't say it many more times, David; you +are pushing me too far and too hard."</p> + +<p>"All right; what will you say, then?"</p> + +<p>"Just this: if you won't meet me half-way—if +you insist upon a fight—I'll fight you with any +weapons I can get hold of!"</p> + +<p>Once more the quiet smile played about the outer +angles of the hereditary Blount eyes.</p> + +<p>"You've said that in other campaigns, Hardwick; +in the end you've always been like the 'possum that +offered to come down out of the tree if the man +wouldn't shoot."</p> + +<p>"I'll hand you another proverb to go with that +one," snapped the man in the arm-chair: "The +pitcher that goes once too often to the well is sure +<a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a>to be broken. You've got a joint in your armor +now, Blount. You've always been able to snap +your fingers at public opinion before this; can you +afford to do it now?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know; I reckon I'll have to grin +and bear it if you want to buy up a few newspapers +and set them to blacklisting me, as you usually do," +was the half-quizzical reply. Then: "I'm pretty +well used to it by this time. You and your folks +can't paint me much blacker than you have always +painted me, Hardwick."</p> + +<p>"Maybe not. But this time we're going to give +you a chance to start a few libel suits—if you think +you can afford to appear in the courts. We've got +plenty of evidence, and by heavens we'll produce +it! You put your son in as public prosecutor and +we might be tempted to make your own State too +hot to hold you. Had you thought of that?"</p> + +<p>"Go ahead and try it," was the laconic response.</p> + +<p>"But that isn't all," the railroad dictator went +on remorselessly. "Your fellow citizens here know +you for exactly what you are, Blount. You rule them +with a rod of iron, but that rule can be broken. +When it is broken, you'll be hounded as a criminal. +In our last talk together you had something to say +<a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a>to me about our not keeping up with the change in +public sentiment; public sentiment <i>has</i> changed; +changed so far that it is coming to demand the +punishment of the great offenders as well as the jailing +of the little ones. If we want to push this fight +hard enough, it is not impossible that you might find +yourself in a hard row of stumps at the end of it, +David."</p> + +<p>"I'm taking all those chances," was the even-toned +rejoinder of the man who was to be shown up.</p> + +<p>"But there is one chance I'm sure you haven't +considered," McVickar went on aggressively. "This +son of yours; I know as much about him as you do—more, +perhaps, for I have taken more pains to +keep tab on him for the past few years than you +have. He is clean and straight, Blount; a son for +any father to be proud of. If that is the real reason +why we don't want to have him instructing the +grand juries of this State, it is also your best reason +for wanting to keep the past decently under cover. +What will you say to him when the newspapers open +up on you? And what will he say to you? And +suppose you get him in, and we should show you up +so that you'd be dragged into court with your own +son for the prosecutor? How does that strike you?"</p> + +<p>For the first time since the opening of the one-sided +conference the senator laid his cigar aside<a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a> +and sat thoughtfully tugging at the drooping mustaches.</p> + +<p>"You'd set the house afire over my head, would +you, Hardwick?" he queried, with the gray eyes +lighting up as with a glow of smouldering embers. +"The last time we talked you'll remember that you +posted your 'de-fi'; now I'll post mine. You go +ahead and do your damnedest! The boy and I will +try to see to it that you don't have all the fun. I +won't say that you mightn't turn him if you went +at it right; but you won't go at it right, and as +matters stand now—well, blood is thicker than +water, Hardwick, and if you hit me you hit him. +I reckon, between us, we'll make out to give you +as good as you send. That's all"—he rose to lean +heavily upon the table—"all but one thing: you +fight fair, Hardwick; say anything you like about +me and I'll stand for it; but if that boy has anything +in his past that I don't know about—any little +fool trick that he wouldn't want to see published—you +let it alone and keep your damned newspaper +hounds off of it!"</p> + +<p>The vice-president, being of those who regain +equanimity in exact proportion as an opponent loses +it, chuckled grimly; was still chuckling when an interrupting +tap came at the locked door. Blount +got up and turned the latch to admit an office-boy +wearing the uniform of the railroad headquarters. +"Note for Mr. McVickar," said the messenger; and +<a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a>at a gesture from the senator he crossed the room +to deliver it.</p> + +<p>For a full half-minute after the boy had gone, the +vice-president sat poring over the pencilled scrawl, +which was all that the sealed envelope yielded. The +note was lacking both date-line and signature, though +the clerks in Richard Gantry's office were familiar +enough with the hieroglyph that appeared at the +bottom of the sheet. In his own good time the +vice-president folded the bit of paper and thrust it +into his pocket. Then he resumed the talk at the +precise point at which it had been broken off.</p> + +<p>"You needn't let the boy's record trouble you," +he averred. "As I said a few minutes ago, it's as +<a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a>clean as a hound's tooth. That is one of the things +I'm banking on, David. If you don't look out, +I'm going to have that young fellow fighting on our +side before we're through."</p> + +<p>At this the light in the gray eyes flamed fiercely, +and the ex-cattle-king took the two strides needful +to place him before McVickar.</p> + +<p>"Don't you try that, McVickar; I give you fair +warning!" he grated, his deep-toned voice rumbling +like the burr of grinding wheels. "There's only one +way you could do it, and—"</p> + +<p>The vice-president stood up and reached for his +hat.</p> + +<p>"And you'll take precious good care that I +don't get a chance to try that way, you were going +to say. All right, David; you tell me to do my +damnedest, and I'll hand <i>that</i> back to you, too. +You do the same, and we'll see who comes out<a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a> +ahead."</p> + +<p>The vice-president caught an elevator at the end +of his leisurely progress down the corridor, and had +himself lowered to the lobby. The electric lights +were glowing, and the great gathering-place was +beginning to take on its evening stir. Mr. Hardwick +McVickar pushed his way to the desk, and a +row of lately arrived guests waited while he asked +his question.</p> + +<p>"Where shall I be most likely to find Mr. Evan +Blount at this time of day?" he demanded; and the +obliging clerk made the guest-line wait still longer +while he summoned a bell-boy and sent him scurrying +over to one of the writing-tables.</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. Evan Blount," said the clerk, indicating +the young man who came up with the returning +bell-boy. "Mr. Blount, this is Mr. Hardwick +McVickar, first vice-president of the Transcontinental +Railway Company."</p> + +<p>There was no trace of the recent battle in Mr. +<a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a>McVickar's voice or manner when he shook hands +cordially with the son of the man who had so lately +defied him.</p> + +<p>"Your father and I were just now holding a little +conference over your future prospects, Mr. Blount," +he said, going straight to his point. "Suppose you +come down to the car with me for a private talk on +legal matters. I'm inclined to think that we shall +wish to retain you in a cause which is coming up in +September. Gantry tells me that you are pretty +well up in corporation law. Can you spare me a +half-hour or so?"</p> + +<p>Evan Blount glanced at the big clock over the +clerk's head. Patricia had told him that she and +her father would dine in the <i>café</i> at seven, and that +there would be a place at their table for him—and +another for his father, if the ex-senator would so far +honor a poor college professor. There was an hour +to spare; and if the vice-president of the Transcontinental +was not the king, he was at least a great +man, and one whose invitation was in some sense +a royal command.</p> +<p><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a></p> +<p>"Certainly, I'll be glad to go with you," was +Blount's acquiescent rejoinder. So much the registry-clerk +heard; and he saw, between jabs with his +pen, the straight path to the revolving doors of the +portal ploughed by the big man with young Blount +at his elbow.</p> + +<p>One minute after the spinning doors had engulfed +the pair the registry-clerk was called on the house +telephone. A sad-faced tourist who was waiting +patiently for his room assignment heard only the +answer to the question which came over the wire +from one of the upper floors: "No, Senator, Mr. +Evan is not here; he has just this moment gone +out—with Mr. McVickar. Could I overtake him? +I'll try; but I don't know where they were going. +Yes; all right. I'll send a boy right away."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + +<h3>THE QUEEN'S GAMBIT</h3> + +<p><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a></p> +<p>When the news went forth to the dwellers in the +sage-brush hills that Boss David's son had been +appointed to fill an important office as a member +of the railroad company's legal staff, the first +wave of astoundment was swiftly followed by many +speculations as to what young Blount's <i>début</i> as a +railroad placeman really meant.</p> + +<p><i>The Plainsman</i>, the capital city's principal daily, +and the outspoken organ of the people's party, was +quick to discover an ulterior motive in Evan Blount's +appointment and its acceptance. Blenkinsop, the +leader-writer on <i>The Plainsman</i>, took a half-column +in which to point out in emphatic and vigorous +Western phrase the dangers that threatened the +commonwealth in this very evident coalition of the +railroad octopus and the machine.</p> + +<p>The <i>Lost River Miner</i>, on the contrary, was unwilling +to believe that the younger Blount was acting +in the interest of machine politics in taking an employee's +place on the railroad pay-roll. In this +editor's comment there were veiled hints of a disagreement +between father and son; of differences +of opinion which might, later on, lead to a pitched +battle. The <i>Capital Daily</i>, however—the stock in +which was said to be owned or controlled by local +railroad officials—took a different ground, covertly +insinuating that nothing for nothing was the accepted +rule in politics; that if th<a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a>e railroad company had +made a place for the son, it was only a justifiable +deduction that the father was not as fiercely inimical +to the railroad interests as the opposition press +was willing to have a too credulous public believe.</p> + +<p>Elsewhere in the State press comment was divided, +as the moulders of public opinion happened +to read party loss or gain in the appointment of the +new legal department head. Some were fair enough +to say that young Blount had merely shown good +sense in taking the first job that was offered him, +following the commendation with the very obvious +conclusion that the railroad company's pay check +would buy just as much bread in the open market +as anybody's else. On the whole, the senator's son +was given the benefit of the doubt and a chance to +prove up.</p> + +<p>Of the interview between the father and the son, +in which Evan announced his intention of accepting +a place under McVickar, nothing was said in +the newspapers, for the very good reason that no +reporter was present. If the young man who had +so summarily taken his future into his own hands +was anticipating a storm of disapproval and opposition, +he was disappointed. He had seen Mr. McVickar's +private car coupled to the east-bound Fast</p> + +<p>Mail, and had dined with Patricia and her father, +the fourth seat at the table of reunion being vacant +because the senator was dining elsewhere. Later in +the evening he faced the music in the sitting-room +of the private suite, waylaying his father on the +Honorable David's return to the hotel.</p> + +<p>Planning it out beforehand, Blount had meant to +<a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a>give the ethical reasons which had constrained him +to put a conclusive end to the attorney-generalship +scheme. But when the crux came, the carefully +planned argument side-stepped and he was reduced +to the necessity of declaring his purpose baldly. The +railroad people had offered him a place, and he had +accepted it.</p> + +<p>"So McVickar talked you over to his side, did +he?" was the boss's gentle comment. "It's all +right, son; you're a man grown, and I reckon you +know best what you want to do. If it puts us on +opposite sides of the political creek, we won't let +that roil the water any more than it has to, will we?"</p> + +<p>To such a mild-mannered surrender, or apparent +surrender, the stirring filial emotions could do no +less than to respond heartily.</p> + +<p>"We mustn't let it," was the quick reply; but after +this the younger man added: "I feel that I ought to +make some explanations—they're due to you. I've +been knocking about here in the city with my eyes +and ears open, and I must confess that the political +field has been made to appear decidedly unattractive +to me. From all I can learn, the political situation +in the State is handled as a purely business +proposition; it is a matter of bargain and sale. I +couldn't go into anything like that and keep my +self-respect."</p> + +<p>"No, of course you couldn't, son. So you just +took a<a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a> job where you could earn good, clean money +in your profession. I don't blame you a particle."</p> + +<p>Blount was vaguely perturbed, and he showed it +by absently laying aside the cigar which he had +lately lighted and taking a fresh one from the open +box on the table. He could not help the feeling +that he ought to be reading between the lines in the +paternal surrender.</p> + +<p>"You think there will be more or less political +work in my job with the railroad?" he suggested, +determined to get at the submerged facts, if there +were any.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know; you say McVickar has hired +you to do a lawyer's work, and I reckon that is what +he will expect you to do, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Blount laid the second cigar aside and crossed the +room to readjust a half-opened ventilating transom. +Mr. McVickar had not defined the duties of the new +counselship very clearly, but there had been a strong +inference running through the private-car conference +to the effect that the headship of the local +legal department would carry with it some political +responsibilities. At the moment the newly appointed +placeman had been rather glad that such +was the case. The vice-president had convinced +him of the justice of the railroad company's contention—namely, +that the present laws of the</p> + +<p>State, if rigidly administered, amounted to a p<a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a>ractical +confiscation of the company's property. While +Mr. McVickar was talking, Blount had hoped that +the new office which the vice-president was apparently +creating for him would give him a free hand +to place the company's point of view fairly before +the people of the State, and to do this he knew he +would have to enter the campaign in some sort as a +political worker. Surely, his father must know this; +and he went boldly upon the assumption that his +father did know it.</p> + +<p>"As I have said, I am to be chief of the legal department +on this division, and as such it will be +necessary for me to defend my client both in court +and out of court," he said finally. "Since I am +fairly committed, I shall try to stay on the job."</p> + +<p>"Of course you will. You've got to be honest +with yourself—and with McVickar. I don't mind +telling you, son, that I'm flat-footed on the other +side this time, and I had hoped you were going to +be. But if you're not, why, that's the end of it. +We won't quarrel about it."</p> + +<p>Now this was not at all the paternal attitude as +the young man had been prefiguring it. He had +looked for opposition; finding it, he would have +found it possibl<a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a>e to say some of the things which +were crying to be said and which still remained +unsaid. But there was absolutely no loophole +through which he could force the attack. If his +late decision had been of no more importance than +the breaking of a dinner engagement, his father +could scarcely have dismissed it with less apparent +concern. Balked and practically talked to a standstill +in the business matter, Blount switched to +other things.</p> +<p><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a></p> +<p>"I missed you to-night at dinner," he said, beginning +on the new tack. "Two of my Cambridge +friends are here, and I wanted you to meet them."</p> + +<p>The Honorable David looked up quickly.</p> + +<p>"The fossil-digging professor and his daughter?" +he queried shrewdly.</p> + +<p>"Yes; how did you know? They came in on the +Overland, and I find that the professor has made the +long journey on the strength of what I once told +him about the megatheriums and things. I guess +it's up to me to make good in some way."</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry a minute about that, Evan, +boy," was the instant rejoinder. "Honoria's coming +in from Wartrace to-morrow, and if you'll put +us next, we'll take care of your friends—mighty +good care of 'em." Then, almost wistfully Blount +thought: "You won't mind letting Honoria do that +much for you, will you, son?"</p> + +<p>"I'd be a cad i<a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a>f I did. And you've taken a load +off of my shoulders, I can assure you. If you can +persuade Mrs. Blount into it, I'll arrange for a little +dinner of five to-morrow evening in the <i>café</i> where +we can all get together. You'll like the professor, +I know; and I hope you're going to like Patricia. +She's New England, and at first you may think she's +a bit chilly. But really she isn't anything of the +kind."</p> + +<p>The Honorable Senator got up and strolled to the +window.</p> + +<p>"You'd better go to bed, son," he advised. "It's +getting to be mighty late, and you'll want to be +surging around some with these friends of yours to-morrow. +And, before I forget it, the big car is in +Heffelfinger's garage. Order it out after breakfast +and show the Cambridge folks a good time."</p> + +<p>It was late the following evening, several hours +after the informal little dinner for five in the Inter-Mountain +<i>café</i>, when the senator had himself lifted +from the lobby to the private-suite floor and made +his way to <a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a>the door of his own apartments. As was +her custom when they were together, his wife was +waiting up for him.</p> + +<p>"Did you find out anything more?" she asked, +without looking up from the tiny embroidery frame +which was her leisure-filling companion at home or +elsewhere.</p> + +<p>"Not enough to hurt anything. McVickar has +fixed things to suit himself. The boy's law-office +job is to be pretty largely nominal; a sort of go-as-you-please +and do-as-you-like proposition on the +side, with Ackerton to do all the sure-enough court +work and legal drudgery. Since Ackerton is a pretty +clean fellow, and Evan stands up so straight that +he leans over backward, this lay-out means that +the bribing isn't going to be done by the legal department +in the coming campaign."</p> + +<p>"Is that all?"</p> + +<p>"All but one little thing. Evan's job is to be +more or less associated with the traffic department, +and the word has been passed to Gantry and his +crowd to see to it that the boy doesn't get to know +too much."</p><p><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a></p> + +<p>"But they can't keep him from finding out about +the underground work!" protested the small one.</p> + +<p>"If it's an order from headquarters, they're going +to try mighty hard. Evan wants to believe that +everything is on the high moral plane, and when a +man wants to believe a thing it isn't so awfully +hard to fool him. It'll be a winning card for them +if they can send the boy out to talk convincingly +about the cleanness of the company's campaign. +That sort of talk, handed out as Evan can hand it, +if he is convinced of the truth of what he is saying, +will capture the honest voter every time. I tell +you, little woman, there's a thing we politicians are +constantly losing sight of: that down at the bedrock +bottom the American voter—'the man in the +street,' as the newspapers call him—is a fair man +and an honest man. Speaking broadly, you couldn't +buy him with a clear title to a quarter-section in +Paradise."</p> + +<p>This little eulogy upon the American voter appeared +to be wasted upon the small person in the +wicker rocking-chair. "We must get him back," +she remarked, referring, not to the American voter,<a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a> +but to the senator's son. "Have you thought of +any plan?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>She smiled up at him sweetly. "You are like the +good doctor who cannot prescribe for the members +of his own family. If he were anybody else's son, +you would know exactly what to do."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I should."</p> + +<p>"I have a plan," she went on quietly, bending +again over her embroidery. "He may have to take +a regular course of treatment, and it may make him +very ill; would you mind that?"</p> + +<p>David Blount leaned back in his chair and regarded +her through half-closed eyelids. "You're +a wonder, little woman," he said; and then: "I +don't want to see the boy suffer any more than he +has to."</p> + +<p>"Neither do I," was the swift agreement. Then, +with no apparent relevance: "What do you think +of Miss Anners?"</p> + +<p>The senator sat up at the question, with the slow +smile wrinkling humorously at the corners of his +eyes.</p> +<p><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a></p> +<p>"I haven't thought much about her yet. She's +the kind that won't let you get near enough in +a single sitting to think much about her, isn't +she?"</p> + +<p>"She is a young woman with an exceedingly +bright mind and a very high purpose," was the +little lady's summing-up of Patricia. "But she isn't +altogether a Boston iceberg. She thinks she is irrevocably +in love with her chosen career; but, really, +I believe she is very much in love with Evan. If +we could manage to win her over to our side as an +active ally—"</p> + +<p>This time the senator's smile broadened into a +laugh.</p> + +<p>"You are away yonder out of my depth now," +he chuckled. "Does your course of treatment for +the boy include large doses of the young woman, +administered frequently?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," was the instant reply. "I was only +wondering if it wouldn't be well to enroll her—enlist +her sympathies, you know."</p> + +<p>"Why not?—if you think best? You're the fine-haired +little wire-puller, and it's all in your hands."</p><p><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a></p> + +<p>"Will you give me <i>carte-blanche</i> to do as I please?" +asked the small plotter.</p> + +<p>"Sure!" said the Honorable David heartily, adding: +"You can always outfigure me, two to one, +when it comes to the real thing. You've made a +fine art of it, Honoria, and I'll turn the steering-wheel +over to you any day in the week."</p> + +<p>When she looked up she was smiling in the way +which had made Evan Blount wonder, in that midnight +meeting at Wartrace Hall, how she could look +so young and yet be so wise.</p> + +<p>"You deal with people in the mass, David, and +no one living can do it better. I am like most +women, I think: I deal with the individual. That +is all the difference. When do the Annerses go out +to the fossil-beds?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know; any time when you will invite +them to make Wartrace their headquarters, I +reckon."</p> + +<p>"Then I think it will be to-morrow," decided the +confident mistress of policies. "It won't do to let +Evan see too much of Patricia until after his course +<a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a>of treatment is well under way. Shall we make it +to-morrow? And will you telephone Dawkins to +bring down the biggest car? I have a notion wandering +around in my head somewhere that Miss +Patricia Anners will stand a little judicious impressing. +She is exceedingly democratic, you know—in +theory."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + +<h3>THE RANK AND FILE</h3> + + +<p>Considerably to his surprise, and no less to his +satisfaction, the newly appointed "division counsel," +as his title ran, was not required to take over +the old legal department offices in the second story +of the station building, where all the other offices of +the company were located. Instead, he was directed +to fit up a suite of rooms in Temple Court, the capital's +most pretentious up-town sky-scraper, and there +was something more than a hint that the item of +first cost would not be too closely scrutinized.</p> + +<p>It was the vice-president himself, writing from +Chicago, who authorized the new departure and +loosened the purse strings. "Don't be afraid of +<a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a>spending a little money," wrote the great man. +"Make your up-town headquarters as attractive as +may be, and arrange matters with Ackerton so that +your office will not be burdened with too much of +the routine legal work. A successful legal representative +will be a good mixer—as I am sure you are—and +will extend the circle of his acquaintance as +rapidly and as far as possible. Your appointment +will be fully justified when you have made your +up-town office a place where the good citizens of +the capital and the State can drop in for a cordial +word with the company's spokesman."</p> + +<p>Acting upon this suggestion, Blount opened the +Temple Court headquarters at once and threw himself +energetically into the indicated field. Ackerton, +a technical expert with a needle-like mind and +the State code at his fingers'-ends, was left in charge +of the working offices in the railroad building, with +instructions to apply to his chief only when he needed +specific advice.</p> + +<p>At the up-town headquarters, Blount gave himself +wholly to the pleasant task of making friends. +With a good store of introductions upon which to +make a beginning, and with the open-handed, whole-souled +<i>camaraderie</i> of the West to help, the list of +acquaintances grew with amazing rapidity. For<a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a> +the three or four weeks after Mrs. Blount had +whisked the Annerses away to Wartrace Hall and +the habitat of the Megalosauridæ, the newly appointed +"social secretary" for the railroad, as Honoria +had dubbed him, met all comers joyously and +accepted all invitations, never inquiring whether +they were extended to his father's son, to the railroad +company's legal chief, or to Evan Blount in +his proper person.</p> + +<p>During this social interval he saw little of his +father, though he was still occupying his share of +the private dining-room suite at the Inter-Mountain. +Part of the time, as he knew, the Honorable Senator +was at Wartrace Hall, looking after his mammoth +ranch, and helping to entertain the visitors from</p> + +<p>Massachusetts. But now and again the father came +and went; and occasionally there was a dinner <i>à +deux</i> in the hotel <i>café</i>, with a little good-natured +raillery from the senator's side of the table.</p> + +<p>"Got you chasing your feet right lively in the +social merry-go-round these days, haven't they, +son? Like it, as far as you've gone?" said the ex-cattle-king +one evening when Evan had come down +in evening clothes, ready to go to madam the +governor's wife's strictly formal "informal" a little +later on.</p> + +<p>"It's all in the day's work," laughed the younger +man. "I shall need all the 'pull' I can get a little +later on, sha'n't I?"</p><p><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a></p> + +<p>"I shouldn't wonder if you did, son; I shouldn't +wonder if you did. And I reckon you're doing +pretty good work, too, mixing and mingling the +way you do. Was it McVickar's idea, or your own—this +sudden splash into the social water-hole?"</p> + +<p>"I don't mind telling you that it is a part of the +new policy," returned the social splasher, still smiling. +"We are out to make friends this time; good, +solid, open-eyed friends who will know just what +we are doing and why we are doing it."</p> + +<p>"H'm," mused the senator, "so publicity's the +new word, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; publicity is the word. The Gordon people +say they are going to show us up; there won't be +anything to show up when the time comes. We +are going to beat them to the billboards."</p> + +<p>The grizzled veteran of a goodly number of political +battles put down his coffee-cup; he was +still old-fashioned enough to drink his coffee in +generous measure with the meat courses.</p> + +<p>"You can't do the circus act—ride<a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a> two horses at +once and do the same stunt on both, son," he +remarked gravely. "If you're really going to put +the saddle and bridle on the publicity nag, you've +got to turn the other one out of the corral and let +it go back to the short-grass."</p> + +<p>"It is already turned out," asserted the young +man, not affecting to misunderstand. "We neither +buy votes nor spend illegitimate money in this +campaign."</p> + +<p>The stout assertion was good as far as it went; +the new division counsel made it and believed it. But +on his way to the governor's mansion, a little later, +he could not help wondering if he had been altogether +candid in making it. The offices in the up-town +sky-scraper were not exclusively a railroad social +centre where the disinterested voter could come and +have the facts ladled out to him without fear or +favor on the part of the ladler. They had come to +be also a rallying-point for a heterogeneous crowd +of ward-workers, wire-pullers, and small politicians, +most of whom were anxious to be employed or retained +as henchmen. Some of these "stretcher men," +as Blount contemptuously called them, had been +employed in past campaigns; others were still the +beneficiaries of the railroad, holding pay-roll places +which Blount acutely suspected were chiefly sinecures.</p> +<p><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a></p> +<p>Latterly, this contingent of strikers and heelers +had been greatly augmented, and it was beginning +to make its demands more emphatic. A dozen +times a day Blount had the worn phrase, "nothing +for nothing," dinned into his ears, and he was beginning +to harbor a suspicion that his office had +been made a dumping-ground for all the other +departments.</p> + +<p>Seeing Gantry at madam the governor's lady's +reception, Blount took an early opportunity of cornering +the traffic manager in one of the otherwise +deserted smoking-dens, and when he had made sure +there were no eavesdroppers plunged at once into +the middle of things.</p> + +<p>"See here, Dick," he began, "you fellows downtown +are making my office a cesspool, and I won't +stand for it. Garrigan, that saloon-keeper in the +second ward, came up to-day to ask for a free ticket +to Worthington and return; and when I pinned him +down he admitted that you'd sent him to me."</p> + +<p>"I did," said Gantry, grinning. "Why otherwise +have we got a post-graduate, double-certificated +political manager, I'd like to know?"</p> + +<p>Blount dropped into a chair and felt in his pockets +<a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a>for his cigar-case.</p> + +<p>"I guess we may as well fight this thing to a +finish right here and now, Dick," he said coolly. +"I'm not chief vote buyer for the Transcontinental +Company—I'm not any kind of a vote buyer."</p> + +<p>"Who said you were?" retorted the traffic manager.</p> + +<p>"It says itself, if I am supposed to cut the pie +and hand out pieces of it to these grub-stakers that +you and Carson and Bentley and Kittredge are +continually sending to me."</p> + +<p>This time Gantry's grin was playful, but behind +it there was a shrewd flash of the Irish-blue eyes +that Blount did not see.</p> + +<p>"I guess the company would be plenty willing to +furnish a few small pies for really hungry people, +if you think you need them to go along with your +Temple Court office fittings," he returned.</p> + +<p>"Ah?" said Blount calmly, giving the exclamation +the true Boston inflection. "You are either +too shrewd or not quite shrewd enough, Dick. You<a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a> +covered that up with a laugh, so that I might take +it as a joke if I happened to be too thin-skinned to +take it in disreputable earnest. Let us understand +each other; we are fighting squarely in the open +in this campaign; publicity is the word—I have Mr. +McVickar for my authority. Anybody who wants +to know anything about the railroad company's +business in this State can learn it for the asking, +and at first-hand. Secrecy and all the various +brands of political claptrap that have been +admitted in the past are to be shown the door. This +is the intimation that was made to me: wasn't it +made to you?"</p> + +<p>Gantry did not reply directly to the direct demand. +On the other hand, he very carefully refrained +from answering it in any degree whatsoever.</p> + +<p>"You have your job to hold down and I have +mine," he rejoined. "What you say goes as it +lies, of course; but just the same, I shouldn't be +too righteously hard on the little brothers, if I were +you."</p> + +<p>"If by the 'little brothers' you mean the pie-eaters, +I'm going to fire them out, neck and crop, +<a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a>Richard. They make me excessively weary."</p> + +<p>Gantry's playful mood fell away from him like a +cast-off garment.</p> + +<p>"I don't quite believe I'd do that, if I were you, +Evan. There are pie-eaters on both sides in every +political contest, and while they can't do any cause +any great amount of good, they can often do a good +bit of harm. I wouldn't be too hard on them, if I +were you."</p> + +<p>"What would you do?—or, rather, what did you +do when you were managing the State campaign +two years ago?" inquired Blount pointedly.</p> + +<p>"I cut the pie," said the traffic manager simply.</p> + +<p>"In other words, you let this riffraff blackmail +you and, incidentally, put a big black mark against +the company's good name."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; I wouldn't put it quite that strong. +Not many of these little fellows ask for money, or +expect it. A free ride now and then in the varnished +cars is about all they look for."</p> + +<p>"But you can't give them passes under the interstate +<a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a>law," protested the purist.</p> + +<p>"Not outside of the State, of course. But inside +of the State boundaries it's our own business."</p> + +<p>"You mean it <i>was</i> our own business, previous to +the passage of the State rate law two years ago," +corrected Blount.</p> + +<p>"It is our own business to this good day—in effect. +That part of the law has been a complete dead-letter +<a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a>from the day the governor signed it. Why, +bless your innocent heart, Evan, the very men who +argued the loudest and voted the most spitefully for +it came to me for their return tickets home at the +end of the session. Of course, we kept the letter +of the law. It says that no 'free passes' shall be +given. We didn't issue passes; we merely gave +them tickets out of the case and charged them up +to 'expense.'"</p> + +<p>"Faugh!" said Blount, "you make me sick! +Gantry, it's that same childish whipping of the devil +around the stump by the corporations—an expedient +that wouldn't deceive the most ignorant voter +that ever cast a ballot—it's that very thing that +has stirred the whole nation up to this unreasonable +fight against corporate capital. Don't you see it?"</p> + +<p>Gantry shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I guess I take the line of the least resistance—like +the majority of them," was the colorless reply. +"When it comes down to practical politics—"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a>"Don't say 'practical politics' to me, Dick!" +rasped the reformer. "We've got the strongest argument +in the world in the fact that the present +law is an unfair one, needing modification or repeal. +We mustn't spoil that argument by becoming law-breakers +ourselves and descending to the methods +of the grafters and the machine politicians the +country over. If you have been sending these pie-eaters +to me, stop it—don't do it any more. I have +no earthly use for them; and they won't have any +use for me after I open up on them and tell them +a few things they don't seem to know, or to care +to know."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe I'd do anything brash," Gantry +suggested mildly, and he was still saying the same +thing in diversified forms when Blount led the way +back to the crowded drawing-rooms.</p> + +<p>Dating from this little heart-to-heart talk with +the traffic manager, Blount began to carry out the +new policy—the starvation policy, as it soon came +to be known among the would-be henchmen. The +result was not altogether reassuring. The first few +rebuffs he administered left him with the feeling that +he was winning Pyrrhic victories; it was as if he +were trying to handle a complicated mechanism with +the working details of which he was only theoretically +familiar. There were wheels within wheels, +and the application of the brakes to the smallest +of them led to discordant janglings throughout the +whole.</p> + +<p>Many of the small grafters were on the pay-rolls +of the railroad company, and Blount was soon definitely +<a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a>assured of what he had before only suspected—that +they were merely nominal employees given +a pay-roll standing so that there might be an excuse +for giving them free transportation, and a retainer +in the form of wages, if needful.</p> + +<p>In many cases the ramifications of the petty graft +were exasperatingly intricate. For example: one +Thomas Gryson, who was on the pay-rolls as a +machinist's helper in the repair shops, demanded +free transportation across the State for eight members +of his "family." Questioned closely, he admitted +that the "family" was his only by a figure +of speech; that the relationship was entirely political. +Blount promptly refused to recommend the +issuing of employees' passes for the eight, and the +result was an immediate call from Bentley, the division +master mechanic.</p> + +<p>"About that fellow Gryson," Bentley began; +"can't you manage some way to get him transportation +for his Jonesboro crowd? He is going to +make trouble for us if you don't."</p> + +<p>Blount was justly indignant. "Gryson is on your +pay-roll," he retorted. "Why don't you recommend +the passes yourself, on account of the motive-power +department, if he is entitled to them?"</p> + +<p>"I can't," admitted the master mechanic. "I am +held down to the issuing of passes to employees travelling +on company business only. We can stretch <a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a>it +a little sometimes, of course, but we can't make it +cover the whole earth."</p> + +<p>"Neither can I!" Blount exploded. "Let it be +understood, once for all, Mr. Bentley, that I am +not the scape-goat for all the other departments! I +have cut it off short; I am not recommending +passes for anybody."</p> + +<p>"But, suffering Scott, Mr. Blount, we've simply +<i>got</i> to take care of Tom Gryson! He's the boss of +his ward, and he has influence enough to turn even +our own employees against us!"</p> + +<p>"Influence?" scoffed the young man from the +East. "How does he acquire his influence? It is +merely another illustration of the vicious circle; +you put into his hands the club with which he +proceeds to knock you down. Let me tell you what +I'm telling everybody; if we want a square deal, +we've got to set the example by being square. And, +by Heavens, Mr. Bentley, we're going to set the +example!"</p> + +<p>The master mechanic went away silenced, but by<a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a> +no means convinced; and a week later Gryson, who +in appearance was a typical tough, and who in reality +was a post-graduate of the hard school of violence +and ruffianage obtaining in the lawless mining-camps +of the Carnadine Hills, sauntered into Blount's +office with his cigar at the belligerent angle and an +insolent taunt in his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Well, pardner, we got them dickie-birds o' mine +over to Jonesboro, after so long a time, and no +thanks to you, neither. I just blew in to tell you +that I'm goin' to hit you ag'in about day after to-morrow, +and if you don't come across there's goin' +to be somethin' doin'; see?"</p> + +<p>Blount sprang from his chair and forgot to be +politic.</p> + +<p>"You needn't come to me the day after to-morrow, +or any other time," he raged. "I'm through with +you and your tribe. Get out!"</p> + +<p>After Gryson, muttering threats, had gone, the +young campaign manager had an attack of moral +nausea. It seemed such a prodigiou<a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a>s waste of time +and energy to traffic and chaffer with these petty +scoundrels. Thus far, every phase of the actual +political problem seemed to be meanly degrading, +and he was beginning to long keenly for an opportunity +to do some really worthy thing.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding, his ideals were still unshaken. +He still clung to the belief that the corporation, +which was created by the law and could exist only +under the protection of the law, must, of necessity, +be a law-abiding entity. It was manifestly unfair +to hold it responsible for the disreputable political +methods of those whom it could never completely +control—methods, too, which had been forced upon +it by the necessity, or the fancied necessity, of meeting +conditions as they were found.</p> + +<p>As if in answer to the wish that he might find the +worthier task, it was on this day of Gryson's visit +that Blount was given his first opportunity of entering +the wider field. A letter from a local party +chairman in a distant mining town brought an invitation +of the kind for which he had been waiting +and hoping. He was asked to participate in a joint +debate at the campaign opening in the town in +question, and he was s<a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a>o glad of the chance that he +instantly wired his acceptance.</p> + +<p>That evening, at the Inter-Mountain <i>café</i> dinner +hour, he found his father dining alone and joined +him. In a burst of confidence he told of the invitation.</p> + +<p>"That's good; that's the real thing this time, +isn't it?" was the senator's even-toned comment. +"Gives you a right nice little chance to shine the +way you can shine best." Then: "That was one +of the things McVickar wanted you for, wasn't it?—speech-making +and the like?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes; he intimated that there might be +some public speaking," admitted the younger man.</p> + +<p>"Well, what-all are you going to tell these Ophir +fellows when you get over there, son?" asked the +veteran quizzically. "Going to offer 'em all free +passes anywhere they want to go if they'll promise +to vote for the railroad candidates?"</p> + +<p>"Not this year," was the laughing reply. "As +I told you a while back, we've stopped all that."</p> + +<p>"You have, eh? I reckon that will be mighty +sorry news for a good many people in the old Sage-brush +State—mighty sorry news. You really reckon<a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a> +you <i>have</i> stopped it, do you, son?"</p> + +<p>"I not only believe it; I am in a position to assert +it definitely."</p> + +<p>"McVickar has told you it was stopped?"</p> + +<p>The newly fledged political manager tried to be +strictly truthful.</p> + +<p>"I have had but the one interview with Mr. McVickar, +but in that talk he gave me to understand +that my recommendations would be given due consideration. +And I have said my say pretty emphatically."</p> + +<p>The senator's smile was not derisive; it was merely +lenient.</p> + +<p>"Sat on 'em good and hard, did you? That's +right, son; don't you ever be afraid to say what +you mean, and to say it straight from the shoulder. +That's the Blount way, and I reckon we've got to +keep the family ball rolling—you and I. Don't forget +that, when you're making your appeal to those +horny-handed sons of toil over yonder at Ophir. +Give 'em straight facts, and back up the facts with +figures—if you happen to have the figures. When +do you pull out for <a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a>the mining-camp?"</p> + +<p>"To-night, at nine-thirty. I can't get there in +time if I wait for the morning train." Then, +dismissing the political topic abruptly: "What do +you hear from Professor Anners?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's having the time of his life. I got him +a State permit, and scraped him up a bunch of +pick-and-shovel men, and he is digging out those +fossil skeletons by the wagon-load."</p> + +<p>"And Miss Anners?" pursued Patricia's lover.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't wonder if she was having the time +of her life, too. I've given her the little four-seated +car to call her own while she is out here, and she +and Honoria go careering around the country—breaking +the speed limit every minute in the day, +I reckon."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you are giving her a good time," said +Evan, and he looked glad. Then he added regretfully: +"I wish I could get a chance to chase around +a little with them. I have seen almost nothing of +them since they came West. I should think Mrs. +Blount might bring Patricia down to the city once +<a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a>in a while."</p> + +<p>"Well, now! perhaps the young woman doesn't +want to come," laughed the senator. "You told +me you hadn't got her tag, son, and I'm beginning +to believe it's the sure-enough truth. What has she +got against you, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing; nothing in the wide world, save that +I don't fit into her scheme for her life-work."</p> + +<p>The senator was eating calmly through his dessert. +"If you hadn't made up your mind so pointedly to +dislike Honoria, you might be getting a few tips on +that 'career' business along about now, son," he +remarked, and Evan was silent—had to be silent. +For, you see, he had been charging Patricia's continued +absence from the capital to nothing less than +spiteful design on the part of his father's wife.</p> + +<p>It was at the cigar smoking in the lobby, after +the young man had made his preparations for the +journey and was waiting for the train-caller's announcement, +that the senator said quite casually: +"It's too bad you're going out of town to-night, son. +Honoria 'phoned me a little spell ago that she and +Patricia would be driving down after their dinner +to take in the Weatherford reception. You'll have +to miss 'em, won't you?"</p> + +<p>The a<a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a>nnouncer was chanting the call for the +night train west, and the joint-debater got up and +thrust his hand-bag savagely into the hand of the +nearest porter.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that just my infernal luck!" he lamented. +Then: "Give them my love, and tell them I hope +they will stay until I get back."</p> + +<p>The senator rose and shook hands with the departing +debater. "Shall I say that to both of 'em?" +he asked, with the quizzical smile which Evan was +learning to expect.</p> + +<p>"Yes; to both of them, if you like—only I suppose +Mrs. Blount will hold it against me. Good-night +and good-by. I'll be back day after to-morrow, if +the Ophir miners don't mob me."</p> + +<p>It was only a few minutes after Evan Blount's +train had steamed Ophir-ward out of the Sierra +Avenue station that a dust-covered touring-car drew +up at the curb in front of the Inter-Mountain, and +the same porter who had put Blount's hand-bag +into the taxicab opened the tonneau door for two +ladies in muffling motor-coats and heavy veils.</p> + +<p>The senator met the two late travellers in the +vestibule, and while the three were waiting for an +elevator a rapid fire of low-toned question and answer +passed between husband and wife.</p> +<p><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a></p> +<p>"You got Evan out of the way?" whispered the +wife.</p> + +<p>The husband nodded. "That was easy. I passed +the word to Steuchfield, and he helped out on that—invited +Evan to come to Ophir to speak in a +joint debate. He left on the night train."</p> + +<p>"And Hathaway? Will he be here?"</p> + +<p>"He is here. Gantry has turned him down, according +to instructions, and he is clawing about in +the air, trying to get a fresh hold. I bluffed him; +told him he'd have to make his peace with you for +something, I didn't know what, before I could talk +to him."</p> + +<p>Miss Anners was watching the elevator signal +glow as the car descended, and the wife's voice +sank to a still lower whisper.</p> + +<p>"He will be at the Weatherfords'?" she inquired +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"He is right sure to be; I told him you would be +there."</p> + +<p>The small plotter nodded approval.</p> +<p><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a></p> +<p>"Give us half an hour to dress, and have the car +ready," she directed; and then the senator put the +two into the elevator and turned away to finish his +cigar.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> + +<h3>IN THE HERBARIUM</h3> + + +<p>The Weatherfords, multimillionaire mine-people, +and so newly rich that the crisp bank-notes fairly +crackled when Mrs. Weatherford spent them, kept +their lackeyed and liveried state in a castle-like +mansion in Mesa Circle, the most expensive, if not +the most aristocratic, no-thoroughfare of the capital +city. Weatherford, the father, egged on by Mrs. +Weatherford, had political aspirations pointing toward +a United States senatorship, the election to +which would fall within the province of the next +<a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a>legislature. The mine-owner himself, a pudgy little +man with a bald spot on top of his head and a +corner-grocery point of view carefully tucked away +inside of it—an outlook upon life which was a survival +from his hard-working past—would willingly +have dodged, but Mrs. Weatherford was inexorable. +There were two grown daughters and a growing +son, and it was for these that she was socially ambitious.</p> + +<p>The reception for which the senator's wife and +her guest had driven thirty miles through the dust +of the sage-brush hills was one of the many moves +in Mrs. Weatherford's private campaign. For the +opening-gun occasion the great house in Mesa Circle +was lighted from basement to turret—to all of the +numerous turrets; an awning fringed with electric +bulbs sheltered the carpeted walk from the street +to the grand entrance, an army of lackeys paraded +in the vestibule, and the wives and daughters of +the bravest and best in the capital city's political +contingent stood with Mrs. Weatherford in the long +receiving-line.</p> + +<p>From room to room in the vast house a curiously +assorted throng of the bid<a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a>den ones worked its way +as the jam and crush permitted. A firm believer +in the maxim that in numbers there is strength, the +hostess had made her invitation-list long and catholic. +For the gossips there were the crowded drawing-rooms, +for the hungry there were Lucullian tables, +and for the sentimentalists there was the conservatory.</p> + +<p>It was a mark of the unashamed newness of the +Weatherford riches that the conservatory, a glass-and-iron +greenhouse, built out as an extension of +one of the drawing-rooms, was called "the herbarium." +It was a reproduction, on a generous scale, +of a tropical garden. Half-grown palms and banana-trees +made a well-ordered jungle of the softly lighted +interior; and if, in the gathering of her floral treasures, +Mrs. Weatherford had omitted any precious +bit of greenery whose cost would have shed additional +lustre upon the Weatherford resources, it was +because no one had remembered to mention the +name of it to her.</p> + +<p>Ex-Senator Blount's party of three was fashionably +late at the function in Mesa Circle, but in the +crush filling the spacious drawing-rooms the hostess +and her long line of receiving assistants were still +on duty. Having successfully passed the line with +her husband and Patricia, little Mrs. Blount looked +about her, saw Mr. Richard Gantry, signalled t<a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a>o +him with her eyes, and, with the traffic manager for +her centre-rush to wedge a way through the crowded +rooms, was presently lost to sight—at least from +Miss Anners's point of view.</p> + +<p>Whether she knew it or not, from the moment of +her appearance at the hostess's end of the long receiving-line, +the senator's wife had been marked and +followed in her slow progress through the rooms by +a thin-faced man who seemed to be nervously trying +to hunch himself into better relations with his ill-fitting +dress-coat, an eager gentleman whose hawk-like +eyes never lost sight of the little lady with her +hand on Gantry's arm. Only the senator saw and +remarked this bit of by-play, and he looked as if +he were enjoying it, the shrewd gray eyes lighting +humorously as he bent to hear what Patricia was +saying.</p> + +<p>When his quarry stopped, as she did frequently +to chat with one or another of the guests, the man +with the hawk-like profile and the nervous hunch +circled warily, and once or twice seemed about to +make the opportunity which was so slow in making +<a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a>itself. But it was not until the little lady in the +claret-colored party-gown had drifted, still with a +hand on Gantry's arm, in among the palm and banana trees +of the herbarium that the bird-of-prey +person made his swoop. A moment later Gantry, +taking a low-toned command from his companion, +was disappearing in the direction of the refreshment-tables, +and the lady looked up to say: "Dear me, +Mr. Hathaway, you almost startled me!"</p> + +<p>"Did I?" said the lumber-king, rather grimly, if +he meant the query to be apologetic. "I am sorry. +I didn't mean to; but Mrs. Gordon said I would +find you here, and so I took the liberty of following +you. I'm needing a little straightening out, you +know, and—ah—would you mind letting me talk +business with you for a minute or two, Mrs. +Blount?"</p> + +<p>She drew her gown aside, and made room for him +on the carved rustic settee, which was exceedingly +uncomfortable to sit in, but which was in perfect +harmony with the background of gigantic palmettos. +He nodded gratefully and took the place, and the +manner of his sitting down was that of a man who +wears evening-clothes only under compulsion.</p> + +<p>"Business?" she was saying. "Certainly not; if +<a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a>you can talk business in such a place as this"—giving +him the coveted permission.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it ain't what you'd call business—maybe +it's only politics," he resumed; then, with the +abruptness of one whose dealings have been with +men oftener than with women: "In the first place, +I wish you'd tell me what I've been doing to get +myself into your bad books."</p> + +<p>She laughed easily. "Who said you had been +doing anything, Mr. Hathaway?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"The senator," he answered shortly, adding: +"He told me I'd have to make my peace with you."</p> + +<p>She had developed a sudden interest in the quaint +Japanese figures on the ivory sticks of her fan. +"You want something, Mr. Hathaway; what is it?" +she inquired.</p> + +<p>"I want to be put next in this pigs-in-clover railroad +puzzle," was the blunt statement of the need. +"Our freight contract with the Transcontinental is +about to expire, and I'd like to get it renewed on +the same terms as before."</p> +<p><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a></p> +<p>"Well," she said ingenuously, "why don't you +do it?"</p> + +<p>"I can't," he blustered. "Everybody has suddenly +grown mysterious or gone crazy—I don't +know which. Kittredge, the general superintendent, +don't seem to remember that we ever had +any contract, and Gantry is just as bad. And when +I go to the senator he tells me I must make my +peace with you. I'm left out in the cold; I can't +begin to <i>sabe</i> what the senator and these railroad +brass-collar men are driving at. I've got something +to sell; something that the railroad company needs. +Where the d—— I mean, where's the hitch?"</p> + +<p>The small person in the fetching party-gown +reached up and pinched a leaf from a fragrant shrub +fronting the settee.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Gantry has gone to fetch me an ice, and he +will be back in a very few minutes," she suggested +mildly. "Consider your peace made, Mr. Hathaway, +and tell me what I can do for you."</p> + +<p>"You can put me next," said the lumber lord, +<a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a>going back to the only phrase that seemed to fit +the exigencies of the case. "Why the—why can't +we get our contract renewed?"</p> + +<p>The little lady was opening and shutting her fan +slowly. "What was your contract?" she inquired +innocently.</p> + +<p>"If I thought you didn't know, I'd go a long +time without telling you," he said bluntly. "But +you do know. It's the rebate lumber rate from our +mills at Twin Buttes and elsewhere, and it was given +us two years ago, a few days before election."</p> + +<p>"And the consideration?" she asked, looking up +quickly.</p> + +<p>"You know that, too, Mrs. Blount. It was the +swinging of the solid employees' vote of the Twin +Buttes Lumber Company over to the railroad ticket."</p> + +<p>"And you wish to make the same arrangement +again?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. We've got to have that preferential +rate or go out of business."</p><p><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a></p> + +<p>"With whom did you make the contract two +years ago?"</p> + +<p>"With Mr. McVickar, verbally. Of course, there +wasn't anything put down in black and white, but +the railroad folks did their part and we did ours."</p> + +<p>"I see—a gentleman's agreement," she murmured; +and then: "You have tried Mr. McVickar again?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and he referred me to Gantry."</p> + +<p>"And what did Mr. Gantry say?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't get him to say anything with any +sense in it," said the lumber magnate grittingly. +"The most I could get out of him was that I would +have to see the boss."</p> + +<p>"And instead of doing that you went to see the +senator?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course I did. Who else would Gantry mean +by 'the boss'?" demanded the befogged one.</p> +<p><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a></p> +<p>"Possibly he meant the senator's son," she ventured, +tapping a pretty cheek with the folded fan. +"Have you been leaving Evan Blount out in all of +this?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know where to put him in. That's what +brings me here to-night. The senator, or McVickar, +or both of them together, have set the whole State +to running around in circles with this appointment +of young Blount. Some say it's a deal between the +senator and McVickar, and some say it's a fight. +Half of the professional spellbinders are walking in +their sleep over it right now. I thought maybe +you could tell me, Mrs. Blount."</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you anything that would help the +people who are walking in their sleep," she returned, +"but I might offer a suggestion in your personal +affair. Mr. Evan Blount is your man."</p> + +<p>Hathaway pursed his thin lips and frowned. +"I'm in bad there—right at the jump," he objected.</p> + +<p>"I know," she shot back quickly. "For some +reason best known to yourself, you saw fit to have +Mr. Evan waylaid and man-handled on <a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a>the first +night of his return to his native State. But you +needn't worry about that. He won't hold it against +you. I'm sure you'll find him entirely amenable to +reason."</p> + +<p>The tyrant of "timber-jacks" frowned again. +"H'm—reason, eh? How big a block of Twin +Buttes stock shall I offer him?"</p> + +<p>Her laugh was a silvery peal of derision.</p> + +<p>"You always figure in dollars and cents, don't +you, Mr. Simon Peter Hathaway?" she mocked.</p> + +<p>"I have always found it the cheapest in the end."</p> + +<p>"Listen," she said, with the folded fan held up +like a monitory finger. "Mr. Gantry may be back +any minute, and I can give you only the tiniest +hint. You must go to Mr. Evan Blount and appeal +to him frankly, as one business man to another."</p> + +<p>"But I have heard—they say he's all kinds of a +crank."</p> + +<p>"Never mind what you have heard. Tell him all +the facts and ask him to help you, and for mercy's +sake don't offer him a block of your stock. Put it +where it will do the most good. Put it in the name +of Professor William J. Anners, of Cambridge, Massachusetts, +and show Mr. Blount how dreadfully +disastrous the loss of the preferential freight rate +would be to all the poor people in your list of stock-holders—including +Professor Anners."</p> +<p><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a></p> +<p>Hathaway drew down his cuff and made a pencil +memorandum of the name and address of the new +beneficiary.</p> + +<p>"You'll notice that I'm not asking any foolish +questions about who this Professor Anners is, or +why I should be making him a present of a block +of stock. If I don't, it's because what you say goes +as it lies. Anything else?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; don't fail to be perfectly frank with Mr. +Blount, and don't let him put you off. He may +pretend to be very angry at first, but you won't +mind that."</p> + +<p>"I won't mind anything if I can bring this business +down to the every-day commonplace earth once +more. You and the senator and Gantry and McVickar +are playing some sort of a game, and you +ain't showing me anything more than the back of +the cards. That's all right. I guess I'm fly enough +to play my hand blindfolded, if I've got to. I don't +care, just so I win the odd trick."</p> + +<p>Gantry was coming down the avenue of banana-trees +with the ice he had taken so much time to +procure, and the lumber magnate rose reluctantly. +There was time for only one more question, and he +put it hastily.</p> + +<p>"When and where can I find Evan Blount?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"The day after to-morrow, at his office in Temple +Court. He is out of the city now, but—" Here +Gantry's coming put an end to the private conference, +and the president of the Twin Buttes company went his way.</p> +<p><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a></p> +<p>Not until they had served out their full sentence +at Mrs. Weatherford's crush, and were back in the +private dining-room suite at the Inter-Mountain, +with Miss Anners safely behind the closed door of +her own apartment, did the small conspirator pass +the word of good hope on to her husband.</p> + +<p>"It is working beautifully," she exulted. "He +will go to see Evan day after to-morrow—and after +that, the deluge."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> + +<h3>THE GREAT GAME</h3> + + +<p>If Evan Blount, as the representative of the unpopular +railroad, had been anticipating an unfriendly +reception at the great gold-camp in the Carnadine +Hills, he was agreeably disappointed. A committee +of citizens, headed by Jasper Steuchfield, the "Paramounter" +chairman for Carnadine County, met him +at the train, escorted him to the hotel, and, during +the afternoon which was at his disposal, gave him +joyously and hilariously the freedom of the camp.</p> + +<p>The polit<a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a>ical meeting, called for an early hour in +the evening, was held in the Carnadine Mining +Company's ore-shed, electric-lighted for the occasion. +When the hour came the big shed was packed +with an enthusiastic audience, and there were prolonged +cheers and hand-clappings when the railroad +advocate took his seat on the improvised platform +as the guest of the local committee.</p> + +<p>Later, when Judge Crowley, candidate prospective +on the popular ticket for the State Senate, opened +the joint debate with a shrewd arraignment of the +methods of the railroad company, not only in its +dealings with the public as a common carrier, but +also in the pertinacity with which it invaded the +political field, there was tumultuous applause; but +it was no heartier than that which greeted Blount +when he rose to present the railroad side of the +argument.</p> + +<p>During the journey from the capital, which had +consumed the night and the greater portion of the +forenoon, he had prepared his speech. His argument—the +one unanswerable argument, as it appeared +to him—was the absurdity and injustice of a +law which presumed to limit the earning power of +a corporation by fixing the maximum rates it might +charge, without at the same time making a corresponding +<a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a>regulation fixing the price which the company +should pay for its labor and material.</p> + +<p>Upon this foundation he was able to build a fair +structure of oratory. The judge, his opponent, was +a rather turgid man whose speech had abounded +in flights of denunciation and whose appeal had +been made frankly to prejudice and party rancor. +Blount took his cue shrewdly. Touching lightly +upon the public grievances, some of which he characterized +as just and entirely defensible, he rang the +changes calmly and logically upon the square deal, +no less for the corporations than for the individual. +"Take it to yourselves, you merchants," he urged. +"Imagine a law on the statute-books fixing the +prices at which you shall sell your goods, and that +same law leaving you at the mercy of those from +whom you must buy! Take it to yourselves, you +miners. Suppose the legislature had enacted a law +fixing the maximum price at which you shall sell +your skill and your labor, and at the same time +leaving it optional with every man from whom you +buy, the butcher, the baker, the grocer, to charge +you what he pleases or what he can get! That, my +good friends, is the situation of the railroad company +in this State to-day"—and he went on to +analyze the hard situation, filling his hour very +creditably and, if the frequent bursts of applause +could be taken to mean anything, to the complete +satisf<a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a>action of his hearers. Indeed, at the end of +his argument he was given what the local paper of +the following day was pleased to call "a spontaneous +and pandemonious ovation."</p> + +<p>After the cheering and hand-shaking, Steuchfield +and his fellow-committeemen went to the train with +<a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a>the visiting speaker, and no one in the throng of +congratulators was more enthusiastic than the opposition +chairman.</p> + +<p>"That was a cracking good speech—a great speech, +Mr. Blount!" he said, as the branch train rattled in +from the north. "If you can go all over the State +making as good talks as the one we've just heard, +you'll tie the whole shooting-match up in a hard +knot for us fellows. But McVickar won't let you +do it—not by a long shot!"</p> + +<p>The potential tier of hard knots laughed genially. +"I don't blame you for wanting to be shown, Mr. +Steuchfield. But I can assure you that the new +policy has come to stay. I have the management +behind me in this thing, and any day you'll come +down to the capital I'll put my time against yours +and try to show you that we are out for open publicity +and a square deal for every man—including +the railroad man."</p> + +<p>"All right," was the cordial reply. "I'll be down +along some of these days, and if you can conv<a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a>ince +me that McVickar isn't going into politics any further +than you've gone here to-night, I'll promise you +to come back to Carnadine and tell the boys the +jig's up."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later the branch train pulled out, +and the chairman and his fellow-committeemen gave +the departing joint-debater three cheers and another. +After the red tail-lights of the train had disappeared +around the first curve, Steuchfield turned +to the others with a broad grin.</p> + +<p>"Well, boys," he said, "there goes a mighty nice +young fellow, and I guess we did it up all right for +him and accordin' to orders. I don't know any +more'n a sheep what sort of a game Dave Sage-brush +is playin' this time, but whatever he says +goes as she lays, and I figure it that we gave the +young chip o' the old block a right jubilant little +whirl. Anyhow, he seemed to think so."</p> + +<p>Blount did not reach his office in the capital until +the afternoon of the next day. There was an appalling +accumulation of letters and telegrams waiting +to be worked over, but he let the desk litter go untouched +<a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a>and called up the hotel, only to have a +small disappointment sent in over the wire. His +father, Mrs. Blount, and their guest had left for +Wartrace Hall some time during the forenoon, and +there had been nothing said in the clerk's hearing +about their return to the city. Blount hung up the +receiver, called it one more opportunity missed, and +sat down to attack the desk litter.</p> + +<p>Almost the first thing his eye lighted upon was +a stenographer's note stating that Mr. Hathaway, +president of the Twin Buttes Lumber Company, +had been in several times, and was very anxious +to obtain an interview. Blount pressed the desk +button, and the stenographer came in promptly.</p> + +<p>"This man Hathaway; what did he want?" was +the brusque question shot at the clerk.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. He said he was stopping at the +Inter-Mountain, and he asked me to let him know +when you got back."</p> + +<p>"Phone him and tell him I'm here," said Blount; +and in due time the lumber magnate made his appearance.</p><p><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a></p> + +<p>It was not at all in keeping with Mr. Simon Peter +Hathaway's gifts and adroitness that he should begin +by attempting a clumsy bit of acting.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be shot!" he exclaimed. "So you're +the senator's son, are you? If I'd known that, that +day on the train when you were trying to make me +believe you were one of Uncle Sam's men—"</p> + +<p>Blount's smile was neither forgiving nor hostile.</p> + +<p>"In a way, I had earned what was handed out +to me afterward, Mr. Hathaway, and I'm not bearing +malice," he said briefly. "I had no business to +let you get away with the wrong impression, but +you were so exceedingly anxious to identify me with +the Forest Service that it seemed a pity to disappoint +you. Since your scoundrels didn't kill me, +we'll set one incident against the other and forget +both. What can I do for you to-day?"</p> + +<p>By this time the lumber lord was apparently recovering +his breath and some measure of composure, +though he had lost neithe<a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a>r.</p> + +<p>"Great Jehu!" he lamented. "If you had given +me half a hint that you were Dave Blount's son—but +you didn't, you know, and now I'm handicapped +just when I oughtn't to be. I've come to +talk business with you to-day, Mr. Blount, and here +you've got me on the run the first crack out of the +box!"</p> + +<p>This time Blount's smile was entirely conciliatory.</p> + +<p>"Don't let that little misfire in the Lost Mountain +foot-hills embarrass you, Mr. Hathaway. I +assure you I'm not at all vindictive."</p> + +<p>"All right," said the visitor, only too willing to +dismiss the Jack Barto incident and the forced awkwardness +of the pretended surprise. "That being +the case, I'll jump in on the other matter. But +first I'd like to ask a sort of personal question: I've +been given to understand that you are handling the +political business for the railroad company in this +campaign. Is that right?"</p> + +<p>"It is <a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a>and it isn't," was the prompt reply. "The +railroad company isn't in politics in this campaign—as +a political factor, I mean. What we are trying +to do—and all we are trying to do—is to lay +the entire matter plainly and fairly before the people +of this State, with a frank appeal for the relief to +which we are entitled."</p> + +<p>"Ha—h'm—I guess I get you, Mr. Blount. +That's the way to talk it; in public, anyway. But, +just between us two—I guess we needn't beat the +bushes in a little personal talk like this—we both +know there are certain things that have to be done +in every campaign; things you wouldn't want to +publish in the newspapers."</p> + +<p>Blount sat back in his chair and the conciliatory +smile disappeared.</p> + +<p>"What kind of things?" he asked abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course, I don't know all of 'em. But +there was one little arrangement that was made two +years ago with us, and it helped out both ways. I +thought I'd come around and see if it couldn't be +<a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a>worked again."</p> + +<p>"State the facts," said Blount shortly.</p> + +<p>"It was like this. As you know, we've got a +number of plants scattered around at different +places in the State, and, one way and another, we +employ a good many men. These men are residents +of the State, but you couldn't call 'em citizens +in the sense that they take any active interest +in what's going on. They're here this year, and +they may be up among the Oregon redwoods next +year, and somewhere else the year after. When +they vote at all they naturally ask us how we'd +like to have 'em vote; and that's the way it was +two years ago at election time."</p> + +<p>"I see. But how does this concern the railroad company?"</p> + +<p>"I'm coming to that, right now. Two years ago +we found that our employees' vote was big enough +to turn the scale in four of the legislative districts +and to cut a pretty good-sized figure in a fifth. This +vote was worth something to your people, and the +fact was properly recognized. I don't know but +what I'm telling you a lot of stale news, but—"</p> + +<p>"Go on, Mr. Hathaway; if I wasn't greatly interested +<a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a>in the beginning, I am now. How was the +fact recognized by the Transcontinental Railway +Company?"</p> + +<p>"It was just as easy as twice two. The Twin +Buttes Lumber Company is practically the only +heavy lumber-shipper in this inter-mountain territory, +and it was given a preferential rate on its +products; you might say that the amount of business +we do entitles us to some special consideration, +anyway. There wasn't any bargain and sale about +it, you understand. It was just a sort of friendly +recognition of our help in the election."</p> + +<p>"This rate is lower than the rate made to other +lumber-shippers?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes; but, after all, it isn't any big thing. +If you were up on lumber rates, Mr. Blount—as I +don't suppose you are—you'd know that the special +tariff we get is all that enables us to live and do +business."</p> + +<p>Blount had opened his penknife and was absently +sharpening a pencil.</p> + +<p>"This special rate you refer to, Mr. Hathaway," +he said, speaking slowly and quite distinctly—"am +I right in inferring that it is not confined strictly to +points within the State boundaries?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></a></p> +<p>At this the lumberman repeated a phrase which +he had used in the anxious conference in the Weatherford +herbarium.</p> + +<p>"If I thought you didn't know, I'd go a long +time without telling you, Mr. Blount. But of course +you do know. If you wasn't on the inside of all +the insides you wouldn't be sitting here pulling the +strings for McVickar. The rate is a blanket; it +covers all shipments."</p> + +<p>Blount nodded and his apparent coolness was no +just measure of the inward fires the crooked lumber-king +was kindling.</p> + +<p>"You interest me greatly, Mr. Hathaway. I am +a little new to these things—as you intimated a few +moments ago. How is this matter handled—by +rebates, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"N-not exactly," was the hesitating denial. +"That would be too risky for both of us. But +the Transcontinental Company is a heavy buyer—lumber +and cross-ties and bridge timber, you +know—and the biggest part of the difference between +our special and the regular rate is taken up +in our bills for material furnished to the railroad."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a>"Let me be quite clear upon that point," said +Blount; and if Hathaway had had eyes to see, he +would have observed that the young lawyer's attitude +was becoming more judicial with every fresh +questioning. "Let me be quite sure that I understand. +You mean that you are allowed to charge +the railroad company more than the market price +on the material it buys?"</p> + +<p>Hathaway nodded. "Yes, that's the way of it."</p> +<p><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a></p> +<p>"And this preferential rate is still in force?"</p> + +<p>"It is."</p> + +<p>"You're sure you have had no notice of its withdrawal—say +within the past few weeks?"</p> + +<p>It was at this point that the lumber lord began +to fear that some one had slipped a cog in sending +him to first one and then another, and finally to +young Blount.</p> + +<p>"Of course, it hasn't been withdrawn!" he retorted. +And then: "You seem to think there is +something off color in the deal, Mr. Blount, and I +don't know whether you're stringing me or whether +you're too new in the railroad game to have the +dope. If you're going into this political knock-down-and-drag-out, +you ought to have the dope. +There isn't a big interest in this State—ore-shippers, +power people, irrigation companies, or any of 'em—that<a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a> +ain't getting a rake-off. I guess you <i>are</i> stringing +me; I guess you know all this a good deal better +than I do. If you don't, I can tell you that it's a +fact; not a 'has-been', but an 'is'! Ask Gantry; +he'll tell you, if he tells the truth. We ain't asking +or getting anything that other people ain't getting!"</p> + +<p>"I see," said Blount soberly. "What do you expect +me to do, Mr. Hathaway?"</p> + +<p>"I want you to set the wheels in motion so that +we can have our rate made good for another two +years—on the same terms as before. You're going +to need every vote you can get this year, and you +can't afford to turn us down." Then the lumber-king +shifted again to his own necessities. "It's the +only way we can live and do business nowadays. +Like every other large corporation, we've got an +army of little investors to look out for: widows, +orphans, charitable institutions, and trustees' accounts. +I've got a list of our stockholders right +here, and I'd like to have you look it over."</p> + +<p>Blount took the paper mechanically, and quite +as mechanically ran his eye down the list of names. +At the bottom of it, written in with a pen, was the +<a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a>name of Patricia's father, with his residence and occupation. +While he was staring at the pen-written +name, Hathaway went on, eloquently emphasizing +the disastrous results which would fall upon the people +for whom he was, in the larger sense, a guardian +and a trustee—the disaster hinging upon the +withdrawal of the preferential rate.</p> + +<p>Blount broke him abruptly in the midst of the +special plea. "I see you have recently added one +new name to this list: the name of Professor Anners. +How—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," interrupted the Twin Buttes diplomatist +hastily, fearing that this legal-minded young man +would presently be asking questions too hard to be +answered; "now there's a case in point: Mr. Anners +is a good example of our smaller stockholders. Men +like Anners, college professors, preachers, and so on, +buy stocks, when they buy 'em at all, for an investment—for +the income—and they pay for 'em out +of their hard-earned savings."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Blount, and, since he was the last +man in the world to be diverted from his purpose +by any conversational dust-throwing, he pressed +the question cut off by the hasty interruption. +"What I was going to ask wa<a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a>s how you happen +to have added Professor Anners's name to your +list—recently, it seems?"</p> + +<p>The lumberman was reduced to the necessity of +inventing a ready lie. He had obeyed his instructions +blindly, on the supposition that young Blount +would know and understand.</p> + +<p>"Anners? Oh, he knows a good thing when he +sees it; and I guess maybe your father put him on. +He's a friend of the family, ain't he? Maybe the +senator found a little chunk of 'Twin Buttes' that +he didn't want himself, and passed it along."</p> + +<p>Blount's blood ran cold at the sight of the cracking +walls and crumbling foundations on every hand. +The proof that the railroad company's lawless attitude +was still unchanged was too strong to be +doubted; and now there was an added blow from +the hand of his father. He wheeled short upon the +lumber-king.</p> + +<p>"Who sent you to me, Mr. Hathaway?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>The hawk-faced man laughed. "I guess you +know just as well or better than I do. But just +to show you that I can keep my mouth shut, I ain't +going to tell you. It's all right and straigh<a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a>t—and +you might say it's all in the family, counting the +professor in on the side, as it were."</p> + +<p>"I see," Blount said, and this time he was only +too sure that he did see. Then: "What is it you +want me to do for you, Mr. Hathaway? You have +told me once, but I'm afraid I didn't grasp it fully."</p> + +<p>"Fix it with Gantry, or somebody, so that we can +put the company vote where it's most needed and +get our rate continued. It's simple enough."</p> + +<p>"The simplicity is beyond question." Blount returned +the list of stockholders and fell back upon +the pencil-sharpening. "It is quite elementary, as +you say; but there is another phase of the transaction +which seems to have escaped you. Are you +aware that the present arrangement which you have +so accurately described, and the continuance of it +which you are proposing, are crimes for which both +parties involved may be called into court and punished?"</p> + +<p>Hathaway started as if the comfortable chair in +which he was lounging had been suddenly electrified.</p> + +<p>"Say, Blount, are you working for the railroad,<a name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></a> +or not?" he demanded. "If you are, what in the +name of Heaven are you driving at? I know the +line of talk you've been handing out since McVickar +gave you your job and set you up in business here, +but that's for the dear public. You don't have to +wear your halo when a man comes in to talk hard +facts from the inside. It comes to just this: you +do something for me, and I do something for you. +You make it possible for us to live and sell lumber, +and we do what we can to make it easy for your +railroad to get its 'square deal' from a pie-cutting +legislature. That's the whole thing in a nutshell."</p> + +<p>"One more question," snapped Blount, striving to +fix the roving gaze of the hawk-like eyes. "With +whom did you make this arrangement two years +ago?"</p> + +<p>"With your boss, if you want to know; with Mr. +McVickar himself!"</p> + +<p>"And you think you can do it again?"</p> + +<p>"I know damned well I can; only I don't care +to go over your head unless I have to. They tell +me you're handling this end of it for the railroad +company, and I'm not going around hunting a +chance to make enemies. That's all I've got to +say"—and he rose to go—"all but this: you've got +a lot to learn about this something-for-something +business, and the quicker you get at it, Mr. Blount, +the sooner you'll arrive somewhere. About this +<a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a>little matter of ours, there's no special hurry. Take +your own time to think it over; take it up with +McVickar, if you want to. Then, when you get +things fixed, wire me one word to Twin Buttes. +Just say 'Yes,' and sign your name to it. That'll +be enough."</p> + +<p>For a long half-hour after the president of the +Twin Buttes Lumber Company and its allied corporations +had closed the door of the private office +behind him, Blount sat rocking gently in his pivot-chair. +In the fulness of time the bitter thoughts +wrought their way into words.</p> + +<p>"So this is what I was hired for!" he mused, "a +fence; a wretched mask put up to hide the trickery +and chicanery and criminality—the crookedness +which has never been put aside; which nobody +ever meant to put aside! My God! they've let me +stultify myself in a thousand ways; let me sit here +day after day with a lie in my mouth, saying things +that nobody in this God-forsaken homeland of mine +has believed for a single minute! After it's all over, +every man who has listened to me will say that I +<i>knew</i>—that all this talk about openness and fair +dealing was simply that much dust-throwing to +hide the workings of a corrupt and criminal machine +grinding away in the background!"</p><p><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a></p> + +<p>He turned to his desk and sat with his head propped +in his hands, staring at the little photograph of Wartrace +Hall which he had had mounted in a plateglass +paper-weight. The sight gave an added twist +to the torture screw and he broke out again.</p> + +<p>"I've been nothing more than a bit of potter's +clay, and the master potter—God help me!—is my +own father! It's all plain enough now. He saw +that I wasn't going to fall in with the attorney-general +scheme; or perhaps he saw that I might +be a stumbling-block if I should; so he planned +this thing with McVickar—planned it deliberately! +There is no fight, after all; it's merely one of the +moves in the game that the 'boss' and the railroad +should seem to be fighting each other. Good God! +I can't believe it, and yet I've got to believe it. +That man Hathaway is a self-confessed criminal, +but he was telling the truth about the law-breaking +trickery that is going on; he wouldn't be idiotic +enough to lie and then give me a chance to prove +the lie. And he didn't come to me of his own volition; +he was sent—sent to break me down, and sent +by.... Oh, dad, dad! how could you do it!"</p> + +<p>With his face hidden in the crook of his arm, he +was groping in vain outreachings<a name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a> for something to +lay hold of, for some clear-minded, clean-hearted +adviser who could tell him what to do; how he +should clamber out of this pit of humiliation into +which nothing more culpable than an honest zeal +for civic righteousness had precipitated him. In his +despair he told himself that there was no one, and +then suddenly he remembered—Patricia would know, +and she would understand better than any one else +in a populous world how to point the way out of the +labyrinth. He must go to her and tell her. In +the meantime....</p> + +<p>He got up and shut his desk with a slam. In the +meantime there should be no more lies told—no +more turns taken in the crooked path. Collins, the +stenographer, heard the noise of the desk closing +and came to the door of the private room, note-book +and pencil in hand. "Anything to give me +before you go out?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Blount almost savagely. "Take a +message to Mr. McVickar. Are you ready?"</p> + +<p>The stenographer nodded.</p> + +<p>Blount dictated curtly: "'Pending another interview +with you in person, I shall close my offices in +Temple Court and confine myself strictly to the +routine legal business of the company. Meanwhile, +my resignation is in your hands if you wish to appoint +a new division counsel.' Have you<a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a> got that, +Collins? Very well; write it out and send it at +once. I shall be at the Inter-Mountain for a little +while, if you want to reach me between now and +closing time."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> + +<h3>A WELL-SPRING IN THE DESERT</h3> + + +<p>Going to the hotel, Blount shut himself into a +telephone booth and tried, ineffectually, to get a +long-distance connection with Wartrace Hall. When +he finally grew exasperated at the central operator's +oft-repeated "line's busy," he called up Gantry to +ask if the traffic manager knew anything about the +purposes and movements of his father. Gantry did +not know, but he knew something else—a thing +which proved the leakiness of the railroad telegraph +department.</p> + +<p>"Come down here and tell me what you mean by +<a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a>sending incendiary telegrams to the vice-president," +he commanded, with jesting severity. And with a +hard word for the department which had gossiped, +Blount went down to the general offices in the station +building.</p> + +<p>Gantry was busy with the stenographer, but the +business was immediately postponed and the clerk +dismissed when Blount entered.</p> + +<p>"'Tell it out among the heathen,'" the traffic +manager quoted jocosely, when the door closed behind +the shorthand man.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to tell—more than you seem +to know already," snapped Blount morosely. "I +have wired my resignation, that's all."</p> + +<p>"But why?" persisted Gantry.</p> + +<p>"Because I'm not going to be an accessory, either +before or after the fact—not if I know it," was the +curt rejoinder.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223"></a>"An accessory to what?"</p> + +<p>"To the criminal disregard for the laws of this +State and the nation which seems to be the underlying +motive actuating every move in this corrupt game +of politics. Gantry, if you and some others had +your just deserts, you would be breaking stone in +the penitentiary this blessed minute!"</p> + +<p>"Suffering Moses!" gasped the traffic manager. +"Somebody must have been hitting you pretty +hard. Who was it; some more of the 'little brothers'?"</p> + +<p>At another time Blount might have been less +angry, and, by consequence, more discreet.</p> + +<p>"No, it wasn't any of the 'little brothers'; it was +Mr. Simon P. Hathaway, president of the Twin +Buttes Lumber Company."</p> + +<p>Gantry drew a long breath which ended in a low +whistle.</p> + +<p>"So that's what you were let in for, was it?" he +exclaimed, and then he checked h<a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"></a>imself abruptly +and went back to the original contention. "But +you're not going to throw down your tools and walk +out, Evan. You can't afford to do that."</p> + +<p>"Why can't I?"</p> + +<p>"Because you have committed yourself right and +left. No man can afford to drop out of the ranks +on the eve of a battle. You are not stopping to +consider the construction which will be put upon +any such hasty action on your part."</p> + +<p>"I am not stopping to consider anything, Dick, +save the fact that I was evidently expected to connive +at a cynical and criminal disregard for the law +of the land, the law which, as a member of the bar, +I have sworn to uphold and defend. That is enough +for me. I don't have to be knocked down and run +over before I can realize that it's time to get out of +the way."</p> + +<p>"You say it's enough for you; it won't be enough +for Mr. McVickar," Gantry interposed. "If you +could afford to drop out—and I'm not admitting that +you can—he cou<a name="Page_225" id="Page_225"></a>ldn't afford to let you." Then, with +sudden gravity: "Hadn't you better let me hold up +that telegram of yours for a few hours, Evan, until +you've had time to cool down and think it over?"</p> + +<p>Blount sprang from his chair in a white heat.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to tell me that you are already +holding it up?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"I took the liberty of holding it up—temporarily," +confessed the traffic man coolly. "There is no +harm done. Mr. McVickar is on his way West now, +and he will be here in a day or two. Why not kill +the message and have it out with him in person +when he comes?"</p> + +<p>Blount was not to be so easily appeased.</p> + +<p>"I won't have my communications tampered +with!" he exploded. "If you have given an order +to have that telegram held out, you can give another +to have it sent immediately!"</p> + +<p>"All<a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a> right," said Gantry; "just as you say." And +he made no effort to detain the enraged one who was +turning his back and striding away. But after the +self-discharged political manager was gone, the traffic +man chuckled quietly and turned up a square of +paper which had been lying on his desk during the +short and belligerent interview.</p> + +<p>"It's a nice lay-out," he mused, reading the +type-written lines over again, "but the little lady +was too fly for you this time, Evan, my boy. She +was just prophetess enough to guess where and how +you would go off the handle, clever enough to pass +me the word to watch the wires after a certain train +should get in from Ophir to-day. Great little woman, +that. I believe she figures out more than half of +the fine moves in the Honorable Senator's game, +though this particularly fine move of sending Hathaway +to touch a match to Evan's little powder-keg +is one that I don't begin to understand." And he +folded the telegram and carefully put it away in his +pocket-book.</p> + +<p>Evan Blount walked three squares beyond the +Inter-Mountain Hotel before he had cooled down +sufficiently to determine what to do next. As it +chanced, the cooling-down process had led him to +the door of the public garage patronized by his +father. That thought of flying to Patricia for counsel +<a name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a>and comfort was still with him, but it was over-shadowed +by a more militant desire to fight somebody; +to go to his father and tell him how completely +and successfully he had plotted with the vice-president +to humiliate a son whose only offence was a +decent regard for honor and uprightness.</p> + +<p>Acting upon the impulse of the moment, he went +in and asked if any of Senator Blount's cars were +in the city. There was one—the big roadster; and +Blount's decision was taken instantly. On that first +day at Wartrace Hall his father had tried to give +him one of the three motor-cars outright, and when +he had refused to take it as a gift, a compromise had +been made by which he was under promise to use +any one of the machines he could get hold of when +the need arose. Accordingly, a few minutes later +he was behind the steering-wheel of the fast roadster, +picking his way through the traffic-burdened +city streets and pointing straight for the country +road leading north to the sage-brush hills.</p> + +<p>Now, among its many attractions, motoring numbers—from +the driver's point of view—this: that +it effectually sweeps the brain of all other cares and +distractions, sundry and several, since one may not +drive a high-powered car at speed and successfully +think of anything but th<a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a>e driving. Blount +reached the entrance to the cottonwood-shaded avenue +at Wartrace Hall just before the dinner hour; +and he was so far recovered from the attack of righteous +indignation that he was able to meet his father +and the others with a fair degree of equanimity. In +the back part of his mind, however, he held the +fighting ultimatum in suspense. In the course of +the evening he would make his opportunity and have +it out, once for all, with the master plotter. So +much he determined while he was dressing for dinner. +But the course of events is sometimes a most +unmalleable thing, as he was presently to learn.</p> + +<p>At the dinner-table it was the professor who +monopolized the conversation, holding forth learnedly +and dictatorially upon matters pertaining solely +to the Pliocene age, and never once suffering the +talk to approach nearer than several million years +to the twentieth century. And at the dispersal—only +there was no dispersal—the senator took his +turn, leading the way to the great wainscoted living-room +and persuading Patricia to go to the piano.</p> + +<p>The young man with the fighting determination +in the back part of his brain bided his time. He +was willing enough to listen to Grieg and Brahms +as they were interpreted by Patricia, but the greater +matter was still outweighing the lesser. Further +along, when <a name="Page_229" id="Page_229"></a>Miss Anners had played herself out, +Blount tried to break the obstructing combination. +But, in spite of his efforts, the talk drifted back to +the dinosaurs and the pterodactyls, and when he +finally went away to smoke, he did it alone.</p> + +<p>The Wartrace Hall den was an annex to the living-room, +and through the bamboo <i>portières</i> he could +hear the animated hum of the prehistoric discussion, +in which Patricia had now joined as a loyal daughter +should. Hoping against hope that the professor +would some time go to bed, and that his father would +come to the den for his bedtime whiff at the long-stemmed +pipe, Blount smoked and waited. But +when his patience was finally rewarded, it was not +the Honorable Senator who drew the bamboo <i>portières</i> +aside and entered the cosey smoking-room. It +was Patricia, and she was alone.</p> + +<p>"I thought perhaps I should find you here," she +said, taking the easy chair at the opposite corner +of the fireplace where a tiny wood fire was blazing +in deference to the chill of the approaching autumn. +"Did we bore you to death with the Pliocenes?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite," he admitted grudgingly. "But +since I hadn't remembered to have myself born six +or seven million years ago, I can't somehow seem to +galvanize a very active interest in the dead-and-gone +periods."</p><p><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"></a></p> + +<p>"Nor I," she confessed frankly, "though for +daddy's sake I do try to. But for us who are +living to-day there are so many problems of critically +vital importance—problems that the pterodactyls +never knew anything about."</p> + +<p>"I know," returned the young man, half-absently. +"I am up against one of them, right now, and I don't +know how to solve it."</p> + +<p>"Will it bear telling?" she asked, and he hoped +that the sympathy in her tone was personal rather +than conventional.</p> + +<p>"It will not only bear telling; it demands to be +told to some one whose sense of right and wrong +has not been drawn and quartered and flayed alive +until it has no longer life or breath left with which +to protest," and thereupon he told her circumstantially +all that had befallen him since the eventful +evening on which he had forsaken the wrecked +train at Twin Buttes, concluding with the story of +the lumber magnate's attempt at corruption, of +which he suppressed nothing but the fact that her +father's name appeared in Mr. Hathaway's list of +share-holders. When he had made an end, her eyes +<a name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a>were shining, though whether with quickened sympathy +or indignation he could not determine.</p> + +<p>"What did you do?" she asked, referring to the +incident of the afternoon.</p> + +<p>"I didn't do half enough!" he fumed. "I'm +afraid I let Hathaway escape without being told +plainly enough what a hopelessly irreclaimable +scoundrel he is. When he edged out of the door, +he was still telling me to take my time to think it +over, and was indicating the way in which I might +communicate my consent without committing anybody. +I made a mistake in not firing him bodily!"</p> + +<p>Miss Anners was tapping one daintily shod foot +on the tiled hearth.</p> + +<p>"You made your greatest mistake in the very +beginning, Evan," she said decisively. "You should +have made a confidant of your father."</p> + +<p>"I did try to," he protested. "Everything was +all right until this political business came up between +us. But that opened the rift. I couldn't +do as he wanted me to, and my sympathies were +with the corporations which I thought he was fighting +unjustly. So when Mr. McVickar made me an +offer, I accepted in good faith, believing that I could +really do something toward bringing about a better +understanding."</p><p><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232"></a></p> + +<p>"And now you believe you can't?—that it is impossible?"</p> + +<p>"Not wholly impossible, I suppose. But the 'great +game' seems to be everything in this benighted commonwealth, +and everybody plays it—my father, +his wife, the railroad officials, and the politicians. +Surely you wouldn't say that I should have let father +put me on the State ticket as a candidate, +knowing—as I could not help knowing—that I would +be expected to carry out the designs of the machine +regardless of right and wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," was the quick reply, "not if you +were convinced that the motive—your father's motive—was +unworthy. But if you have been telling +me the truth, and all the truth, I should say that +you didn't stop to inquire what his motive was."</p> + +<p>"What was the use of inquiring?" he demanded +moodily. "He is the boss, and he would have used +the machine to put me into office as attorney-general. +In other words, I should have owed my election, +not to the will and selection of the people, but to +the will of one man, and that man my nearest kinsman; +a man who is, beyond all question of doubt, +working hand in glove with all the trickery and +double-d<a name="Page_233" id="Page_233"></a>ealing practised by the corporations. Under +such conditions, would it have been possible +for me to accept and to administer the office without +fear or favor?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know why not," she returned. "Notwithstanding +your charge—which merely shows how +angry you are—your 'nearest kinsman,' as you call +him, would have been the last man in the world to +interfere. Wasn't that the very reason he gave +you for wanting to put you on the ticket?"</p> + +<p>"I know," said Blount, whose mind was beginning +to cloud again. "But there are so many other +mysteries. We'll say that my father honestly +wanted me to stand for the candidacy. But right +in the midst of things he conspires with Mr. McVickar +to put me into my present unspeakable dilemma."</p> + +<p>Her smile was gently reproachful.</p> + +<p>"It is my poor opinion, Evan, that you don't half +appreciate your father. Worse than that, you don't +know him. But that is beside the present mark. +What are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"I have already done it. I have wired my resignation +to Mr. McVickar, and he will doubtless +accept it."</p> + +<p>She was looking him fairly in the eyes. "That +is the second unwise thing you have done," she remarked. +And then: "Evan, there are times when +you are sadly in need of a balance-wheel. Don't<a name="Page_234" id="Page_234"></a> +you know that?"</p> + +<p>"I knew it a good while ago. I applied for one +once, and it was refused when you said 'No'."</p> + +<p>For one who was supposed to be far above and +beyond such emotional signallings, she blushed very +prettily. Which merely proves that one may be a +diplomaed sociologist with a burning zeal for alleviating +the miseries of a sodden world, without having +parted with the primitive sex impulse.</p> + +<p>"I am willing to try to help you now," she said, +half hesitating; "if only you won't try to drag me +over into the field of sentiment. It was just a bit +of boyish rage—fine enough in its way, but foolish—your +sending that telegram to Mr. McVickar. Can't +you recall it?"</p> + +<p>"No; not now."</p> + +<p>"Then you must do the next best thing: tell him +you have reconsidered."</p> + +<p>"But I haven't reconsidered; I can't and won't +stand in with the corruption and bribery that is going +on all around me!" he objected indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Of course you can't; and you mustn't. But +the true reformer doesn't drop things and run away. +You must stay in and fight—fight harder than you +ever have before, Evan. If you can't do it for the<a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a> +sake of the larger right, then you must do it for your +own sake. Can't you see the open door before you?"</p> + +<p>"I can see and hear and feel when the door is +slammed in my face," was the qualifying rejoinder. +"How can I go on preaching the gospel of cleanness +and fair dealing, when I know that all this +crooked work is going on behind my back? What +will the people of this State say to me and about +me when the crookedness comes to light?"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she said; "that is just where you begin +to grow one-sided. You must go on preaching the +gospel, but that is only half of the battle. The other +half is to be big enough and strong enough and insistent +enough to make the thing itself agree with +the gospel. I fully believe you lost your best helper +when you refused to join hands with your father. +You don't believe that, so we'll let it go. You have +gone your own way, choosing what seemed to you +to be the better opportunity. Evan, you can't turn +back; you've simply <i>got</i> to go on and wring success +out of apparent failure!"</p> + +<p>Blount drew a deep breath and<a name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a> sat up in his chair. +There was no mistaking the light in Patricia's eyes +now; the pure flame of which it was the visible +radiance is the torch which has kindled the beacon +fires on all the heights since the world began.</p> + +<p>"If I had only my own people—the railroad people—to +knock down and drag out," he was beginning, +but she broke in warmly:</p> + +<p>"You think you have your father against you, +too; I don't believe it, but you do. Very well; then +you must compel him, as well as the others. Be a +big man, Evan; be the biggest man in the State +until you have proved that one man with a righteous +cause is better than ten thousand without it."</p> + +<p>Blount got up and stood with his back to the +dying embers of the tiny fire, and if he put his +hands behind him it was because the passionate +impulse to break down all the barriers was twitching +in every fibre of him.</p> + +<p>"Patricia, girl, I wonder if you know what you +have done to me? I drove out here this evening +utterly discouraged and disheart<a name="Page_237" id="Page_237"></a>ened; bitter and +angry, and ready to throw the whole thing up and +go away. You've changed all that—you, you know; +just you. Oh, girl, girl! if I could only have you +beside me to give me my battle-word!"</p> + +<p>She had her slender fingers locked over one knee +and her eyes were downcast.</p> + +<p>"Now you are tempting me," she said slowly; +"and—and it isn't fair. You know my weakness +and passion to help. You <i>mustn't</i> tempt me, Evan."</p> + +<p>What he would have said, with what eager pleadings +he would have pressed the advantage gained +by his appeal for the larger help, is not to be here +set down. For at that moment the bamboo door +curtains parted to admit the small house-mistress.</p> + +<p>"You two!" she scolded with light-hearted austerity. +And then to Evan: "Don't you know that +we are keeping country hours here at Wartrace +now? The professor will be up and calling for the +car at six o'clock, and it's past midnight. Shame +on you! Run away and get your beauty sleep—both +of you!"</p> + + +<p><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE LIEGEMAN</h3> + + +<p><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a>Evan Blount drove himself back to the capital +in the swift roadster the following morning, and +there was no opportunity for further confidential +speech with Patricia before he left. But with the +new day had arisen, full-grown, the determination +born in the moment of midnight heart-warming and +inspiration. To the best of his ability he would +live up to the high standard set for him by the +woman he loved, not only preaching the gospel of +fair dealing, but doing his utmost to make it effective.</p> + +<p>With this high purpose singing its song of exaltation +in his veins, he drove on past the garage and +made an early call at the office of the traffic manager. +Gantry was in the midst of his morning mail-opening, +but he pushed the desk-load of papers aside +when the door swung inward to admit the early +visitor.</p> + +<p>"Hello, old man! Come back to jar me some +more about that telegram?" was his greeting.</p> + +<p>Blount shook his head. "No; if you've sent it, +well and good. If you haven't, you may pitch it +into the waste-basket. I came to talk about something +<a name="Page_240" id="Page_240"></a>else."</p> + +<p>"Good, sound, sensible second thought!" Gantry +commented, laughing. Then he took out his +pocket-book and passed the suppressed telegram +across to Blount. "Here it is; you can do the +waste-basket act yourself. I couldn't let you commit +<i>hara-kiri</i> without at least trying to get the cutting +tool out of your hands. What is the other +thing you've got on your mind this early in the +morning? It must be a nightmare of some sort, by +the look in your eyes."</p> + +<p>"It may figure as a nightmare to you, Dick, before +we're through with it. I'll make it short. You +know what I have been doing—what I supposed I +was hired to do—assuring everybody right and left +that we were going into this campaign with clean +hands?"</p> + +<p>"I know," admitted the traffic manager, developing +a sudden interest in the figures of the rug at +his feet.</p> + +<p>"I have been doing this in a business way at my +office up-town, in season and out of season, and night +before last, at Ophir, I did it publicly. As the campaign +progr<a name="Page_241" id="Page_241"></a>esses, I shall doubtless put myself on +record many times to the same effect."</p> + +<p>"Good man!" applauded Gantry, striving to drag +the talk down to some less portentous altitude. +"I'm sure we need all the whitewashing anybody +can give us."</p> + +<p>"That is just the point I have come to make," +Blount went on gravely. "It mustn't be merely a +coat of whitewash, Dick; it has got to be the real +thing, this time. I began by firing the 'little +brothers,' as you called them, but I sha'n't stop at +that; I mean to go higher up if I am compelled to. +I am here this morning to ask you to give me your +word as a gentleman and my friend that you will +not, directly or indirectly, do or cause to be done +anything that will make me stand forth as a self-convicted +liar before the people of this State. I +want you to promise me that you will cut out all +the deals, all the briberies, all the bargainings, all +the—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, say; see here!" protested the man under +fire; "you've got the wrong pig by the ear, +Evan. I'm not the Transcontinental Railway +Company!"</p> + +<p>"I know you are not. But, to a greater degree +than any other official<a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"></a> in the local management, +you have Mr. McVickar's confidence. If you don't +feel competent to handle the thing on your own +responsibility, of course it's your privilege to pass +it up to those who have the authority. In that +case, I wish to make one point clear: you're the +man I'm going to hold up to the rack. I can't afford +to spread myself over the entire management, +and I don't mean to try. I'm going to look to you, +Dick, for the backing of the clean sheet, and I warn +you in all soberness that there must be no blots on +it; no compromises; no whipping of the devil around +the stump."</p> + +<p>"Great Scott!" murmured Gantry. "And you're +on the pay-rolls, the same as the rest of us! But +candidly, as man to man, Evan, the thing can't be +done, you know. We've got to play the game; +they'll eat us alive if we don't. You needn't figure +in it at all; it was a mistake letting Sim Hathaway +get to you, and I said so at the time. But your—er—the +powers that be said it had to be that way, +and I had to let him go and ball you all up. It +sha'n't happen again; I can promise you that much, +anyway."</p> + +<p>Blount caught quickly at the hesitant pause.</p> + +<p>"Who were 'the powers that be' in Hathaway's +case, Dick?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you that; honestly, I can't, Evan," +was the anxious refusal. "Don't ask me."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243"></a>"All right; then I shall assume that Mr. McVickar +was responsible," said Blount calmly, thus proving +that he had not taken his degree in the law school +for nothing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, hold on! You mustn't do that, either!" +protested the man who was figuring most unwillingly +as the occupant of the witness stand.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," returned the postgraduate, with +the true Blount smile. "Now I know that it was +my father. No; you needn't deny it; I suppose it +was for some good reason that this man was sent +to teach me how to play the game—as reasons go +in practical politics. But we are side-stepping the +real issue. I've asked you for a promise: will you +give it?"</p> + +<p>"I—I can't give it, Evan, and hold my job; that's +God's own truth!"</p> + +<p>"No; it isn't God's truth—it's the other kind. +But that was about what I expected you to say. +Now hear my side of it: if you don't clean house—you +and the other officials of the company—I shall +not only resign; I shall take the field on the other +side and tell what I know and why I've thrown up +my job. I've been telling everybody that this is to +be a campaign of publicity, and by all that is good +and great, I shall keep my word, Dick!"</p> +<p><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a></p> +<p>"Oh, for heaven's sake, you wouldn't do that!" +ejaculated the traffic man, now thoroughly alarmed. +"Land of glory, Evan! you know too much—a great +deal too much!"</p> + +<p>The young man who knew too much got up and +relighted his cigar with a match taken from Gantry's +desk box.</p> + +<p>"It's up to you," he said, with his hand on the +door-knob. "Get into communication with whatever +'powers that be' there are that can give the +necessary orders; see to it that the orders are given, +and that they are put in the way of being carried +out. As God hears me, Dick, I mean what I say: +it's a clean sheet, or an exposure that will make a +lot of you wish you had never been born. If I have +to put the screws on—as I hope and pray I sha'n't—you +can bet they'll be put on lawyer-fashion; with +evidence that will send a bunch of you to the penitentiary."</p> + +<p>"Hold on—one question before you go, Evan!" +pleaded Gantry. "I haven't known half the time +where I'm at in this latest muddle. Is this another +little blind lead of the Honorable Sen—of your +father's?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245"></a></p> +<p>Blount's smile was as grim as any that Gantry +had ever seen on the face of the Honorable David.</p> + +<p>"It's against nature for you to play the game +straight, isn't it, Dick?" he said in mild reproach. +"If you don't know that my father is still the head +of the machine, and that the machine has always +been for you in the past, I imagine you're the +only man in the Sage-Brush State who needs enlightening. +No, Gantry; you've got only one man +to fight; but you mustn't forget that his name, also, +is Blount. Go to it and send me word, and let the +first word be that you have scotched the head of +this lumber-company snake. That's all for to-day. +Good-by."</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the fact that his day's work was +still ahead of him, the traffic manager did not attack +it when he was left alone. An able man in his calling, +and one who had fought his way rapidly by sheer +merit and hard work from a clerkship to an official +desk, Richard Gantry was still lacking, in a character +admirable and most lovable in many ways, +the iron that refuses to bend, and—though perhaps +in lesser measure—the courage of his ultimate convictions. +In addition to these basic weaknesses he +owned another—the weakness of the cog which is +constrained to turn with the great wheel of which +it is a part.</p> +<p><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a></p> +<p>In his heart of hearts Richard Gantry knew that +Blount was right; knew that the forlorn-hope fight +into which his friend and college classmate had +plunged was a struggle to call out all that was best +and finest in friendly loyalty. But when he sprang +from his chair and began to walk the floor of his +private office with his head down and his hands +deeply buried in his pockets, he was once more the +true corporation liegeman, loyal to his salt, and +anxious only to contrive means to an end.</p> + +<p>"Confound his picture!" he muttered, "why the +devil can't he see that he's got everything to lose +and nothing to gain? It's a thousand pities that +such a royal good fellow has to turn himself into a +wild-eyed, impossible crank! The Lord knows, I'd +do anything in reason for him; but I can't let him +turn anarchist and blow us all to kingdom come. +He's got to be muzzled in some way, and I'll be +hanged if I know how it's going to be done."</p> + +<p>The pacing monologue paused when the traffic +manager stopped at the window and stood looking +with unseeing eyes upon the morning bustle of +Sierra Avenue. Then he broke out again.</p> + +<p>"It's a beautiful tangle—damn' beautiful! Evan +says I know that we've got the machine with us; I +<a name="Page_247" id="Page_247"></a>wish to heaven I did know it, and could be sure of +it. That would simplify matters a whole lot. But +the vice-president won't say, and he's the one who +has been doing all the dickering with the Honorable +David. They quarrelled at first; I'd bet every dollar +I've got on that. But I more than half-believe +they've patched it up now, and I believe it was Mr. +McVickar's quick swiping of Evan—jerking him out +from under his father's thumb the way he did—that +brought on the peace negotiations."</p> + +<p>He turned away from the window and resumed +the floor-pacing, still wrestling with the deductions.</p> + +<p>"By George! I believe I've got hold of the end +of the thread at last! The senator <i>is</i> with us, working +in the dark, as he always does. And that Hathaway +business: that was one of his smooth little +side-moves—his or Mrs. Honoria's. He didn't want +Evan to get in too deep in the righteousness puddle, +and he took that way of letting him get a peek at +the real thing. It was overdone, though; horribly +overdone. Confound it all! I wish Mr. McVickar +would loosen up a little more with me! If he'd tell +me a few of the things I ought to know—"</p> + +<p>The interruption was the entrance of the boy +from the<a name="Page_248" id="Page_248"></a> train-despatcher's office with a verbal message. +The vice-president, moving westward, had +changed his plans and cut out some of his stop-overs. +Car "008" would be in on the noon train +and would proceed westward, running special, at +one o'clock. The despatcher had thought that Mr. +Gantry might want to know.</p> + +<p>The traffic manager did want to know, and when +the boy had ducked out, the knowledge was promptly +utilized. A touch of a desk-button brought the +stenographer, and Gantry dictated a message. "'Important +that I should have conference with you on +arrival. Will meet you at train at twelve-three.' +Send that to Mr. McVickar over the despatcher's +wire, and ask Gilkey to rush it," he directed, and +the shorthand man went to do it.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Evan Anarchist Blount!" said Gantry, +apostrophizing the late disturber of his peace, "now +we'll find out just where we're at and how big a rope +it's going to take to snub you down," and thereupon +the desk buzzer rattled again, and Mr. Richard Gantry +squared himself for his forenoon's work.</p> + +<p>At the moment of his apostrophizing Blount was +opening his mail in the Temple Court office, and lamenting, +as a loyal friend might, the necessity for +the recent clubbing into line of so fine a fellow as +Dick Gantry. But the mail-opening plunged him +once more into the political actualities. There were +letters from all over the State, and among them +three invitations from widely separated cities, all +based upon the newspaper reports of his Ophir +<a name="Page_249" id="Page_249"></a>speech. It seemed to be plainly evident that the +"campaign-of-education" idea was striking a popular +chord, and the proponent of the idea saw what +a miraculous opportunity was offering for the railroad +if only the "powers" that Gantry had refused to +name were broad enough and high-minded enough +to seize it.</p> + +<p>After a day and an evening well filled with detail, +Blount went to the station to take the nine-thirty +<a name="Page_250" id="Page_250"></a>west-bound, since the first of the three speaking +engagements—all of which had been promptly +accepted by wire—lay in that direction. On the +platform, whither he went to consult the bulletin-board, +he found Gantry.</p> + +<p>"Your train is half an hour late," said the traffic +man, with a glance for the travelling-bag in Blount's +hand. "Didn't they know enough at the hotel to +tell you about it?"</p> + +<p>"They told me it was on time," said the putative +traveller, and he was far enough from suspecting +that Gantry himself had arranged to have the inaccurate +information given across the counter at the +Inter-Mountain, so that he might be sure of an uninterrupted +half-hour with Blount before he should +leave the city.</p> + +<p>"Ump!" said the traffic manager, "I've got to +wait for it, too. One of my men is coming in on it. +Let's go up to the office. It's pleasanter there."</p> + +<p>Together they climbed the stair to the second<a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a> +floor of the station building, and Gantry unlocked +the door of his private room and turned on the +lights.</p> + +<p>"Feeling any more humane than you did this +morning?" he inquired genially, after he had opened +his desk and found a box of cigars.</p> + +<p>"I haven't been feeling otherwise since—well, +let's say since midnight last night," countered +Blount laughing.</p> + +<p>"Why midnight?"</p> + +<p>"That was about the time when I made up my +mind definitely to stay in the fight."</p> + +<p>"Then you are still meaning to go ahead on the +lines you laid down this morning?"</p> + +<p>"If I wasn't, I shouldn't be here to take the +train for the rally at Angora to-morrow night."</p> + +<p>Gantry smoked in silence for a little time. Then +he said: "You can't do it, Evan. It's fine and glorious +and heart-breaking, and all that; but you can't +do it."</p> + +<p>"I can, and I will!"</p> + +<p>"I say you can't. I know a good bit more now +than I knew this morning!"</p> + +<p>"Catalogue it," said B<a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a>lount tersely.</p> + +<p>"Mr. McVickar came in on the noon train to-day, +and I had an interview with him."</p> + +<p>"That doesn't tell me anything."</p> + +<p>Again the traffic manager took time to smoke and +to reflect.</p> + +<p>"You made some pretty savage threats this morning, +Evan; about shoving this thing to the point +where the grand juries, Federal and State, could take +hold of it. As a lawyer, you know even better than +I do what that would mean."</p> + +<p>"I told you what it would mean. In the present +state of public sentiment it would mean prison sentences +for every man of you caught with the goods."</p> + +<p>"Yes, for every man of us," said Gantry slowly; +"for the railroad man who has given, and for the +other man who has taken. Evan, the jails of this +State wouldn't be big enough to hold us all."</p> + +<p>"I can readily believe you. That is the full +weight of the stick with which I am going to club +you fellows into decency."</p> + +<p>"And you'll let the club fall wherever it may?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253"></a>"I've got to do that, Dick; I can't do any less."</p> + +<p>For the third time Gantry paused. The train-waiting +interval was half gone, and he had been +feeling purposefully for the climaxing moment without +finding it. But now he decided that it had +come.</p> + +<p>"In the talk this morning there was some reference +made to your father and his attitude in this +fight, Evan. Do you remember what was said?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly."</p> + +<p>"Well, suppose I should tell you that I know +now—what I didn't know certainly then—that when +you hit out at us you hit him?"</p> + +<p>"You mean that he is with you in this scheme +to hoodwink the people?"</p> + +<p>"Ask yourself," was the low-toned reply.</p> + +<p>"I have asked myself a hundred times, Dick; +I've been hoping against hope. I'll be utterly frank +with you, as man to man. We've kept pretty obstinately +out of the political field, both of us, father +and I, since the first day when I told him my views +on machine-made government. But from a few little<a name="Page_254" id="Page_254"></a> +things he has said, I've gathered that he isn't with +you; that there has been a quarrel of some kind +between him and Mr. McVickar——"</p> + +<p>"There was a set-to—a battle royal," Gantry put +in. "The last act of it was played to a finish that +evening when Mr. McVickar took you down to his +car and hired you. But there has been a meeting +since. Ask yourself again, Evan. Haven't you had +good and sufficient reasons for believing that you +are bucking, not only the railroad company, but your +own flesh and blood?"</p> + +<p>This time it was Blount who took time for reflection. +The shot had gone home. He told himself +that there were only too many reasons for believing +that Gantry was stating the simple fact. None the +less, he made a final effort to break down the conclusion +that Gantry was relentlessly thrusting upon +him.</p> + +<p>"In all our talks, Dick—there haven't been very +many of them—my father has taken, or seemed to +take, a different line. I don't recall anything specific +just now, but he has given me the impression +that he hasn't much in commo<a name="Page_255" id="Page_255"></a>n with Mr. McVickar +and his methods. To hear him talk—"</p> + +<p>Gantry smiled. "You know your father very +superficially, Evan, if you'll permit me to say so. +What the Honorable David Blount says in talk with +you or me or anybody outside of the inner circle is +a mighty poor foundation upon which to build any +idea of what's going on in the back of his head. No—hold +on; don't get mad. What I'm trying to tell +you is what everybody in the sage-brush hills—save +and excepting yourself—knows like a book, and +that is that the big boss's moves are all made strictly +in the dark. He doesn't let his own right hand know +what the left is doing. That's the secret of his absolutely +Czarish power, I think."</p> + +<p>The shriek of a distant locomotive whistle floated +in through the open window at Blount's back and +he got up stiffly.</p> + +<p>"That's my train coming," he said. And then: +"Tell me plainly, Dick: you brought me up here +to throw a final brick—a bigger one than you have +yet thrown—and I know it. What did Mr. McVickar +tell you to-day that will make my job harder +than I am already finding it?"</p><p><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256"></a></p> + +<p>Gantry turned his head, refusing to meet the +straightforward gaze of the questioner.</p> + +<p>"You intimated this morning that you would go +at it lawyer-fashion, Evan," he said; "which means, +I suppose, that you would get the evidence on us. +You can do it; the Lord knows, there's plenty of it +to be had. But when you pull out one set of props +the whole thing will come down. We haven't any +of us been careful enough about what we put in +writing—<i>not even your father</i>."</p> + +<p>Blount staggered as if the words had been a +blow.</p> + +<p>"You're trying to tell me that my father would +be involved in the disclosures you fellows might +drive me to make?" he demanded, and his voice was +husky.</p> + +<p>Gantry was still looking away. "There always +has to be an intermediary—you know that. We +can't do business direct with these—with the people +who have something to sell. You can draw your +own inferences, Evan. I didn't send Hathaway to +<a name="Page_257" id="Page_257"></a>you; I sent him to your father."</p> + +<p>The train was thundering into the station and +Blount picked up his hand-bag and went out, stumbling +blindly in the unlighted passage at the stair-head. +And in the private office behind him the +traffic manager was crushing his dead cigar in his +clenched hand and staring fixedly at the square of +darkness framed by the open window.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> + +<h3>BARRIERS INVISIBLE</h3> + + +<p>During the three weeks following the night journey +to Angora, a journey on which he once more +fought the hard battle to a still sharper conclusion, +Evan Blount scarcely saw his office in Temple Court +for more than a brief hour or two at a time. One +speaking appointment followed another in such rapid +succession that he was constantly going or returning; +and since there was everywhere a repetition +of the welcome accorded him by the miners of the +Carnadine district, there was no reason save physical +weariness to make him wish to limit his opportunity.</p> + +<p>It was not until he was deep into the fourth we<a name="Page_258" id="Page_258"></a>ek +of the hurryings to and fro that he began to admit +a suspicion which grew like a juggler's rose once he +had given it place. Could it be possible that these +numerous invitations, coming now from all parts +of the State, were purely spontaneous? If not, if +they were so many subtle moves in the great game, +he could see no possible end to be subserved by +them save one: they were effectually keeping him +away from the capital, which was naturally the nucleus +and centre of the campaign activities. Was +there something going on at headquarters that "the +powers" did not wish him to find out? Of one +thing he was well assured. Gantry was dodging +him, was apparently keeping an accurate record +of his movements; for whenever the hurryings permitted +a flying return to the capital the traffic +manager was always out of town.</p> + +<p>These were small matters, but vital in their way. +Failing to keep in touch with Gantry, Blount could +never be sure that the policy of the railroad +company had been reformed or changed in any respect. +Moreover, his journeyings, which brought him in +direct contact with the voters themselves, seemed +to have the effect of isolating him curiously in the +actual battle-field. That a hot political campaign +was raging throughout the length and breadth of +the State was not to be doubted; the newspapers +were full of it, and in man<a name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a>y districts the fight had +become acrimonious and bitter. But although he +was supposed to be in the thick of the fight, he knew +that he was not; that some mysterious influence was +shutting him out and holding him at arm's length.</p> + +<p>Everywhere he went the cordial reception, the +attentive and hospitable committeemen, the packed +house, and the generous applause were always awaiting +him. It was as if his progress had been carefully +prearranged, like a sort of triumphal procession. +None the less, the invisible barrier—the +barrier which was excluding him from a hand-to-hand +grapple with the inner workings of the campaign—was +always there, and he could neither surmount +it nor push it aside.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the hard work and hard travelling, +he did not allow the missionary effort and its +curious isolation to obscure in any sense the sturdier +purpose. By every means he could devise he was +holding his principals up to the mirror of a vigilant +watchfulness. Arguing that the opposition newspapers +would be quick to seize upon any charge of +corruption involving the railroad company, he read +them faithfully. As yet there had been only innuendoes +and a raking over of past misdeeds, though +by this time many of the editors were openly claiming +that the old alliance between the railroad and +the machine had never been broken, and warning +their readers accordingly<a name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></a>.</p> + +<p>Blount winced when he read such editorials as +these. Though he was going about, striving to do +his part manfully, and even with enthusiasm, the +burden of the cruel responsibility he had voluntarily +shouldered was never less than crushing. His +only hope lay in success. If he could make Gantry +and his superiors come clean-handed to the election, +there need be no exposure, no cataclysm involving +both the railroad officials and his father.</p> + +<p>So ran the saving hope; and not content with +mere watchfulness, Blount tried to get his finger +upon the pulse of occasions whenever he could. On +his brief stop-overs in the capital he kept his eyes +and ears open for the earliest hint of any charge +of chicanery, and though he was unable to get hold +of Gantry personally, he kept up a steady fire of +letters and telegrams, all pointing to the same end—absolute +and utter good faith, and the upholding +of his hands in the public plea for a square deal. +To these the traffic manager always replied guardedly +and optimistically. Everybody was delighted +with the good work done, and doing, by the railroad +company's field manager; public opinion was slowly +but surely changing; let the good work go on—and +much more to the same effect.</p> +<p><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></a></p> +<p>Blount did let the good work go on; but as the +critical pre-election weeks approached, he began to +arm himself, reluctantly but resolutely. A little +quiet investigation, which was made to dovetail +cleverly with his speech-making journeys, revealed—as +Gantry had confessed it would—convincing +evidence of past corruption and present law-breaking. +Hathaway had told the truth when he had +asserted that his own involvement was only one of +many similar bargains. Blount called upon the +president of the Irrigation Alliance at Romero, in +the heart of the agricultural district, upon the managers +of several of the electric-power companies, and +upon a number of influential mining men—all shippers, +and all large employers of labor. It was the +same story everywhere. Preferential freight rates +had been given in return for votes controlled, and +the rates were still in effect.</p> + +<p>The investigator turned sick at heart when these +men talked quite freely to him, thus showing conclusively +that they were cynically discounting his +public utterances. McDarragh, owner and manager +of the "Wire-Gold" properties in the Moscow +district, winked slyly when Blount cautiously inserted +the probe.</p> + +<p>"You're on, Mr. Blount. I sat up there in the +<a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a>Op'ry-house last night listening to your game, and +says I to myself, 'Thim railroad shift-bosses know +their trade.' 'Twas a gr-reat talk you gave us, and +it'll make the swinging of the har-rd-rock vote as +easy as twice two. Of course, we have a thin paring +on the ore rate; you'll be knowing that as well as +annybody in the game, I'm thinking. 'Tis well that +we fellows at the top know how to make one hand +wash the other. Come again, Mr. Blount, and give +my regards to the sinator when ye see him. And +ye might whisper in his ear that it's a waste of good +wor-rk for him to be sinding his gum-shoe wire-pullers +to be laboring with our min. We're safe as +the clock up here in the Moscow."</p> + +<p>This was not the first hint that Blount had been +given pointing to the underground work of the machine. +That this work was being directed toward +the subversion of the popular will, he made no doubt; +and there were times when he was strongly tempted +to carry the war boldly into the wider field of graft +and bossism. That he postponed the bigger battle +was due quite as much to the singleness of purpose +which was his best gift as to the desire to spare his +father. Telling himself resolutely that the reformation +of the railroad company's political methods was +his chief object, and the only one which warranted +him in retaining his place on the Company's payrolls, +he held aloof when his father's n<a name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></a>ame was mentioned +and bent himself to the task of providing the +means for the subjugation of Gantry—and of Gantry's +and his own superiors, if need be.</p> + +<p>The securing of evidence of the kind which would +really give him the whip-hand promised to be a +delicate undertaking. Men like McDarragh talked +openly enough about the illegal special freight rates, +but talk was not evidence. Curiously enough, while +he was trying to devise some way of obtaining the +tangible proof without using his semiofficial position +in the company's service as a lever, the thing +itself was thrown at him. From some mysterious +source a rumor went out that the special rates were +in jeopardy; and the very men with whom he had +talked began to write him importunate letters begging +him to deny the rumor. With a sheaf of these +letters in his pocket, each one inculpating both parties +to the illegal "deals," Blount grew gayly exultant. +The natural inference was that Gantry and +"the powers" had been finally forced to yield—that +he had won his victory. But if he had not yet won +it, chance, or something better, had placed in his +hands the weapon with which he could compel a +return to fair dealing and honesty.</p> + +<p>It was on a second speech-making visit to Ophir +that Blount had his first<a name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></a> face-to-face chance at Gantry. +A meeting of the Mine-Owners' Association, +moving for a readjustment of the classification on +copper matte and bullion at a time when the railroad +company might be supposed to be on the giving +hand, brought Gantry to the gold camp in the +Carnadine Hills, and the first man he met at the +hotel was the stubborn dictator of new policies for +the Transcontinental Company.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a>"Hello, Dick! made a mistake, didn't you—coming +while I was here?" said the reformer, with +a very lifelike replica of his father's grim smile. +"I suppose you have an immediate engagement to +go somewhere else, or to do something that will give +you a chance to dodge?"</p> + +<p>"No; I wish to the Lord I had!" was the hearty +admission. "You're a fright, Evan; you are getting +to be a perfect nightmare, with your letters and +telegrams. You've got me so I'm afraid to open +my desk."</p> + +<p>Blount nodded gravely. "I'm glad the letters +and telegrams have had their effect at last," he rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Had their effect? Yes, they've had the effect +of turning my hair gray, if that's what you mean."</p> + +<p>"I think you know what I mean, Dick."</p> + +<p>"I'll be hanged if I do. What are you driving at?"</p> + +<p>"At the fact that you have finally concluded to +cancel the crooked deals with—wait, and I'll <a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a>give +you the names of the co-respondents"—and he drew +a packet of neatly docketed letters from his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Hold on a minute," protested the traffic manager; +"you're getting in rather too deep for me. +Will you let me see those letters?"</p> + +<p>Blount put the letters back into his pocket and +mechanically buttoned his light top-coat over them +for additional safety.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say that you haven't passed +the word to Hathaway and McDarragh and a dozen +others I could name?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course I haven't. You call yourself a lawyer, +and yet you ask us to set aside promises that +are, or ought to be, as binding as so many written +contracts with penalties attached. You're crazy, +Evan; it can't be done, and that's all there is to it."</p> + +<p>Blount was frowning thoughtfully. "'Can't' goes +out of the window when 'must' comes in at the door, +Dick. You remember what I told you—that I'd +get evidence, lawyer-fashion. I've got it; evidence +of the sort that would turn the people of this State +into a howling mob to tear up your tracks if I should +publish it."</p> + +<p>"But I tell you we <i>can't</i> withdraw the specials, +<a name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></a>you wild-eyed fanatic!"</p> + +<p>"All right; then level down the public's rates to +fit them. And do it quickly, old man. The time +is growing fearfully short, and my patience isn't +what it used to be."</p> + +<p>"My Lord! anybody would think you owned the +Transcontinental Company, lock, stock, and barrel! +Where under heaven did you get your nerve, Evan? +Blest if I don't believe you could out-bluff the old—er—your +father, himself, if you once got the fool +notion into your head that it was your duty to try!"</p> + +<p>"You are side-stepping again, Dick, and that +won't go any longer. You've got to fish or cut +bait, and do one or the other pretty soon."</p> + +<p>"I'd cut the bait all right, if I were Mr. McVickar, +Evan. I'd fire you so blamed far that you +wouldn't be able to find your way back in a month +of Sundays."</p> + +<p>Blount tapped his pocket. "As long as I have +these documents, Mr. McVickar doesn't dare to +fire me. And if you and he don't come down within +the next few days—yes, it's a matter of days, now—I'll +fire myself and go over every foot of the ground +again, telling what I know."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></a>Gantry's eyes darkened. He had graduated with +honors from the particular department in railroading +in which patience is more than a virtue. Yet +there are limits.</p> + +<p>"You seem to have entirely forgotten that little +talk we had in my office the night you were going +to Angora," he said.</p> + +<p>"No; I haven't forgotten it—not for a single +waking minute."</p> + +<p>"What I said to you then goes as it lies," was the +threatening reminder. "If you pull the props out, +there'll be more than one death in the family."</p> + +<p>"You mean that you, or Mr. McVickar, will make +it a point to include my father; I've wrestled that +out, too, Dick. I'm going to try to pull him out +of it, but whether I succeed or fail, the consequences +will be the same for you fellows. Come and hear +me speak to-night, Dick—if you're stopping over +that long. Then you'll know how much in earnest—how +deadly in earnest—I am. You spoke of my +father just now; I want to remind you again that +I, too, bear the Blount name—a name that I have +heard bandied about as a synonym for all that is +worst in our political life. Don't you see that I've +got to make good?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></a></p> +<p>"Oh, great cats!—you and your high-strung notions +of what you've got to do!" snorted the traffic +manager, and he went away to his classification +meeting.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2> + +<h3>SWORD-PLAY</h3> + + +<p>It was during this hard-travelling period that +Blount saw, with keen regret, the gradual widening +of the breach between his father and himself. In +their infrequent meetings there was never anything +remotely approaching an open rupture; but in a +thousand ways the younger man fancied he could +see and feel the steady growth of the rift.</p> + +<p>That the long arm of the machine of which his +father was the acknowledged head was reaching out +into all corners of the State, was a fact no longer to +be doubted, and that the influences thus set in motion +were sinister, he took for granted. Therefore, +when it came in his way, he scored the machine +frankly, charging it with much of the mischief which +had been wrought in the way of arousing public +sentiment against the corporations. "The worst in +politics joined with the worst elements in capital<a name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></a>ized +industry," was his platform characterization of +the alliances of the past, and he usually added that +he was fighting it as every honest man was in duty +bound to fight it. But it is hard to fight in the +dark. After all was said, he could not help admiring +the subtlety of the master brain which was able +to control and direct such a complicated piece of +human mechanism; direct it so skilfully and cleverly +that, though the name of the thing was in everybody's +mouth, its workings were so carefully concealed +that it was only by the merest chance that +he stumbled upon them now and then.</p> + +<p>In more than one of the short stop-overs in the +capital he had found his father still occupying the +private suite at the Inter-Mountain, and now and +again there was a meal shared in the more or less +crowded <i>café</i>. On such occasions the son leaned +heavily upon the public character of the place and +carefully steered the table-talk—or thought he did—into +innocuous channels. But on a day shortly +after the meeting with Gantry in Ophir this desultory +programme was broken. Reaching the hotel +in the evening after an all-day train journey from +Lewiston, Blount found his father waiting for him +in the lobby, and when he proposed a <i>café</i> dinner +the senator shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No, son; not this evening," he sai<a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a>d. "I've +been feeling sort of set up and aristocratic to-day, +and I've just ordered a dinner sent upstairs. I +reckon you'll join me?"</p> + +<p>The young man was willing enough; more than +willing, since he was now ready to say a thing which +must be said before he could be prepared to set a +time limit upon Gantry—a limit beyond which lay +the firing of the fuse and the blowing up of all +things mundane.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," he agreed. "Give me a few minutes +to change my clothes—"</p> + +<p>"You look good enough to me just as you are, +boy," said the dinner-giver, and he took his son by +the arm and walked him to the elevator.</p> + +<p>In the private dining-room Blount found the table +laid for two, much as if his coming had been pre-figured. +He let that go, and for the time the talk +was of the doings at Wartrace Hall: of the professor's +enthusiastic digging for fossils, of Patricia's +keen enjoyment of the life in the open, and—this +put with gentle hesitation on the part of the news-bringer—of +Mrs. Honoria's growing affection for +the young woman whose ambitions reached out toward +a sociological career.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a>"You say Patricia is learning to drive a car?" +queried Patricia's lover.</p> + +<p>"Best woman driver I ever saw," was the senator's +praiseful rejoinder. "Nothing feazes that little +girl, and I'm telling you that she can turn the wheels +just about as fast as you want to ride."</p> + +<p>This was a new aspect of Miss Anners, even to +one who knew her as well as Blount thought he +<a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a>knew her, and, lover-like, he found a grain of encouragement +in it. Patricia had never cared for the +out-of-door things save as they bore upon the hygienic +condition of the poor in the great cities. If +she had changed in one respect, she might change +in another.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to know that," he commented. "She +was needing an outlet on that side. There is a good +bit of the Puritan in her—all work and no play, you +know."</p> + +<p>The senator looked out from beneath his shaggy +eyebrows. "Speaking of work; they're working +you pretty hard these days, aren't they, son? If +you belonged to my generation instead of your own, +you wouldn't be cold-shouldering that young woman +out yonder at Wartrace the way you do; not for +all the politics that were ever hatched."</p> + +<p>"I have my work to do, and Patricia Anners would +be the last person in the world to put obstacles in +the way of it," returned the son gravely. Then he +added: "I wish I could say as much for other<a name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></a> +people."</p> + +<p>The boss shot another keen glance across the +table. "Somebody been trying to block you, Evan, +boy?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Blount met the gaze of the shrewd gray eyes +without flinching.</p> + +<p>"I don't know of any good reason why we +shouldn't be entirely frank with each other, dad," +he said, using for the first time since his return to +the homeland the old boyhood father-name. "You +know, better than any one else, I think, what the +stumbling-blocks are, and who is putting them in +my way."</p> + +<p>"Maybe so; maybe I do," was the even-toned +answer. "It happens so, once in a while, that I +know a heap of things I can't tell, son." Then: +"Has McVickar been calling you down?"</p> + +<p>"No one has called me down. But some one, or +something, is keeping me out of the real fight. I +don't mean that I'm not doing w<a name="Page_275" id="Page_275"></a>hat I set out to do: +I've got my own particular abomination by the +neck, and I'm about to choke the life out of it. But +that is, as you might say, a side issue. The real +struggle is going on all around me, but I'm not in +it or of it. Everywhere I go there is the same +cut-and-dried welcome, the same predetermined enthusiasm. +Sometimes it seems as if all the people I +meet have been instructed to make things pleasant +and easy for me."</p> + +<p>The senator's chuckle was barely audible.</p> + +<p>"Seems as if I wouldn't find fault with that, if I +were you, son," he suggested. "You are like the +boy who has found a good piece of skating over a +sheet of fine, smooth ice, and takes to complaining +because it won't break and let him down into the +cold water. You'll get enough of the real thing by +and by."</p> + +<p>Evan Blount felt his anger rising. He was in +precisely the right mood to construe the gentle jest +into an admission that his father, failing to make +him a cog in one of the wheels of the machine, had +gone about in some mysterious way to insulate him—to +make it impossible for him to get into the real +tide of affairs. But he kept his temper, in a measure, +at least.</p> + +<p>"I guess it's no use for us to try to get together," +he said with a tang of abruptness in his tone. "We +are diametrically opposed to each other at every +point, you and I, dad. I stand for democracy, the +will of the people and its fullest and freest expression. +You stand for—"</p> + +<p>"Well, son, what do I stand for?" queried the +father, and the question was put with a quizzical +<a name="Page_276" id="Page_276"></a>smile that brought the hot blood boyishly to Blount's +cheeks.</p> + +<p>"If I should say what all men say—what some of +them are frank enough to say even to me—" he +stopped short, and then went on with better +self-control: "Let's keep the peace if we can, dad."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I reckon we can do that," was the good-natured +rejoinder. "Being on the railroad side, yourself, +you can't help feeling sort of hostile at the rest +of us, I reckon."</p> + +<p>Blount put his knife and fork down and straightened +himself in his chair.</p> + +<p>"There it is again, you see. We can't get together +even on a question of admitted fact! Do +you suppose for a single minute, dad, that I've been +going up and down, and around and about, all these +weeks without finding out that the old alliance of +the machine with the very element in the railroad +policy that I am fighting is still in existence?"</p> + +<p>The senator was nodding soberly. "So you've +found that out, too, have you?" he commented.</p> + +<p>"I have, and I wish that were the worst of it, but +it isn't, dad. There's a thing behind the alliance +that cuts deeper than anything else I've had to face."</p> + +<p>Once more the deep-set eyes looked out from their +bushy penthouses. "Reckon you could give it a +name, son?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></a>"Yes; when you found that I wasn't going to let +you run me for the attorney-generalship, you arranged +with Mr. McVickar to have me put on the +railroad pay-roll. Isn't that the fact?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly," said the senator, and a grim smile +went with the qualified denial. "It was sort of the +other way round. I reckon McVickar thought he +was putting one across on me when he offered you +the railroad job and got you to take it."</p> + +<p>"I know; that was at first. You and he couldn't +come to terms because you—because the machine +wanted more than he was willing to give. But +afterward there was another meeting and you got +together. That part of it was all right, if you see +it that way. What broke my heart was the fact +that you and he agreed to put me up as a fence +behind which all the crookedness and rascality of a +corrupt campaign could be screened."</p> + +<p>In the pause which followed, a deft waiter slipped +in to change the courses. When the man was gone, +Blount went on.</p> + +<p>"It came mighty near smashing me when I found +it out, dad. It wasn't so much the thing itself as +it was the thought that you'd do it—the thought +that you had forgotten that I was a Blount, and +your son."</p> +<p><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></a></p> +<p>Again the older man nodded gravely. "How +come you to find out, Evan, boy?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It was when Hathaway had been given his +chance at me. He opened the cesspool for me, as +you meant he should when you sent him to me. +From your point of view, I suppose it was necessary +that I should be shown. You knew what I was +saying and doing; how I was taking it for granted +that the railroad was going in clean-handed, and the +one ray of comfort in the whole miserable business +is the fact that you cared enough to want to give +me a glimpse of the real thing that was hiding behind +all my brave talk. But I don't think you +counted fully upon the effect it would have upon me."</p> + +<p>"What was the effect, son?"</p> + +<p>"At first, it made me want to throw up the fight +and run away to the ends of the earth. It seemed +as if I didn't have anybody to turn to. You were +in it, and Gantry was in it—and Gantry's superiors +and mine. That evening I borrowed one of your +cars and drove out to Wartrace. I meant to have +it out with you, and then to throw up my hands +and quit."</p> + +<p>"But you didn't do either one," said the father +<a name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></a>tentatively.</p> + +<p>"No. Nothing went right that day, until just at +the last. When I was about to give up and go to bed, +Patricia came into the smoking-room. I had to +talk to somebody, so I talked to her; told her where +I had landed."</p> + +<p>"And she advised you to throw up your hands?"</p> + +<p>"You don't know Patricia. She put a heart into +my body and blood into my veins. What she said +to me that night is what has kept me going, dad—what +has made me drive this fight for a clean election +on the part of the railroad company home to +the hilt. I have driven it home. There will be no +crooked deals on the part of the railroad company +this time."</p> + +<p>The senator looked up quickly. "That's a mighty +good stout thing to say," he remarked, adding: "I +reckon you're not saying it without having the right +and proper club hid out somewhere where you can +lay hands on it?"</p> + +<p>Blount tapped his coat-pocket. "I have the club +right here—documentary evidence that will rip <a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></a>this +State wide open and send a lot of people to the penitentiary. +I've told Gantry to pass the word: a +clean sheet, or I go over to the other side and tell +what I know. And that brings me to the thing that +I've got to say to you, dad—the thing that made me +hope I'd find you here to-night. After I'd got my +battle-word from Patricia, I had a jolt that was +worse than the other. When I pulled the gun on +Gantry, he told me that I couldn't shoot without +killing you; that you were just as deeply involved +as any one of the railroad officials. Is that the +truth?"</p> + +<p>The senator had pushed his chair back and was +burying his hands in his pockets.</p> + +<p>"You've come to try to haul me out of the fire?" +he inquired, ignoring the direct question.</p> + +<p>"I've come to ask you, first, if it is possible for +you to stand from under. Can you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I reckon I could dodge, if I had to."</p> + +<p>"Then do it, and do it quickly, dad! As there is +a God above us, I'm going to push this thing through +to the bitter end. To-morrow morning I shall give +Gantry his time limit. If the time goes by, leaving +the house-cleaning still undone, I shall keep my +promise to the letter. You know, and I know, what +will happen a<a name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></a>fter that."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I reckon I know," was the half-absent +reply.</p> + +<p>Blount threw his napkin aside and glanced at his +watch.</p> + +<p>"I've got to go back to the office and work a +while," he said. And then: "I feel better for having +had this talk with you, dad. I'm sorry you are +finding it necessary to fight me, and a thousand times +sorrier that I've got to fight you. But I can't give +ground now, and still be a man and your son. Think +it over and dodge. It'll break my heart a second +time if I have to pull the other fellow's house down +and bury you in the wreck."</p> + +<p>For some little time after his son had left the +table and the private dining-room, the Honorable +Senator Sage-Brush sat absently toying with his +dessert-spoon. When he rose to go out, the battle +light in the gray eyes was the signal which not even +his most faithful henchmen could always interpret; +but it was a signal which all of them knew by sight, +and one which many of them feared.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></a></p> +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE SAFE-BLOWER</h3> + + +<p>About the time that Evan Blount was finishing +the fourth week of the campaign of education, the +senator's wife began to detect signs of country weariness +in the eyes of Miss Patricia Anners.</p> + +<p>"When you are tired of the out-door bignesses, +you have only to say the word," she told the professor's +daughter one morning after they had driven +to Lost River Canyon and back in the small car. +"As you have doubtless discovered, the senator and +I live either here or at the capital indifferently during +the season, and we shall be only too glad to +entertain you in town whenever you feel like going."</p> + +<p>To similar proposals made earlier Miss Anners +had always returned prompt refusals. But for a +week or more some impulse which she had not taken +the trouble to analyze seemed to be drawing her toward +the city. The mesa roads were just as inviting, +and the free pleasures of motoring, in a country where +speed restrictions were conspicuous only by their +absence, were just as keen. But no<a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></a>w Patricia confessed +to a restless longing for the sight of city streets +and the brabble of city noises.</p> + +<p>"Only you mustn't consider us, or me, so much +as you do, Mrs. Blount," she protested. "I have +a dreadful suspicion that we have already interfered +shamefully with your autumn plans. You are +simply too kind and too hospitable to admit it."</p> + +<p>"You have interfered with nothing," was the +ready assurance. "We were not going anywhere, +or thinking of going anywhere. No inducement +that was ever invented would take the senator away +from his own State in a political year, and your +coming has been a blessing. But for the good excuse +to bring your father out here to the fossil-beds, +we should have been mewed up in the Inter-Mountain +Hotel from the firing of the opening gun to the +day after election. But that isn't what I meant to +say. You are tired of so much country; I can read +the call of the city in your eyes—and they are very +pretty eyes, my dear. Shall I telephone the senator +that we are coming in this afternoon to stay +a while?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be delighted," said Patricia, and the eyes, +which were not only pretty but exceedingly apt to +<a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></a>tell tales, confirmed the eager assent. Then she +added: "Now that daddy has his box of books +from the university library, I doubt if he will know +that we are gone."</p> + +<p>On their first day in the capital Evan was away, +but he returned the following morning and Mrs. +Blount promptly captured him for a theatre box-party +which she was inviting for the same evening. +In Mrs. Honoria's orderly scheme Blount was predestined +to go, though he was allowed to believe that +his acceptance was of free will. Notwithstanding +the lapse of time and Mrs. Honoria's uniform kindness, +he was still unreasonably prejudiced, and with +the prejudice he was now admitting a feeling akin +to jealousy. It was evident that Patricia's admiration +for his father extended over to his father's wife; +and meaning consistently to dislike Mrs. Honoria, +he was irrational enough to want Patricia to dislike +her, too.</p> + +<p>The box-party proved to be a more formal affair +than he had anticipated, since it was large enough +to fill two of the open dress-circle boxes. Gantry +was included, and so were the Weatherfords—father, +mother, daughters, and son. These, with the Gordons +and a Denver man whose name of Critchett +Blount was not quite sure that he caught in the +introduction, filled Mrs. Honoria's list. In the seating +Blount meant to make sure of having a measurably +undisturbed evening with Patricia. But fate,<a name="Page_285" id="Page_285"></a> +or a designing hostess, intervened, and he found +himself cornered between Mrs. Weatherford and her +younger daughter, with the square-shouldered "Paramounter" +candidate for governor strengthening the +barrier which separated him from Miss Anners.</p> + +<p>Blount had met Gordon socially a number of +times, and in the intervals allowed him by Mrs. +Weatherford he was silently studying the face of +the big man who, singularly enough, as the student +thought, was thus identifying himself publicly as a +friend of the boss. True, Blount did not forget his +father's warm commendation of Gordon in that earliest +political talk on the Quaretaro Canyon road, +but that was before the lines had been drawn and the +gage of battle thrown down by the allied forces of +the machine and the railroad. Now, with the battle +drawing to its close, Blount thought that nothing +could be more certain than the fact that his father +and his father's organization were joining hands with +the railroad oligarchy to slaughter Gordon at the +polls.</p> + +<p>Putting aside the wonder that Gordon should be<a name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></a> +accepting Mrs. Honoria's hospitality, Blount fell to +contrasting the strong, large-featured face of the Mission +Hills ranchman with that of Reynolds, the opposition +candidate. Though he was himself on the corporation +campaigning staff, Blount could not help +admitting that the comparison was not favorable to +Reynolds. His first impression of the round-faced, +portly gentleman who was standing firmly upon what +he was pleased to call a platform of law and order—a +man who was Gordon's opposite in every feature and +characteristic—had been unfavorable. He had been +saying to himself, since, that Reynolds's face, in spite +of its heavy jaw and prominent eyes, was the face +of a time-server.</p> + +<p>Another point of difference between the two men +counted for much. Reynolds wanted the office, and +was spending money liberally to get it, while Gordon +had accepted the nomination reluctantly. +Throughout the hot campaign he had refused to +stump the State for himself or his party, and was +said to be holding steadfastly aloof in the bargaining +and dickering. Weighing the two men one +against the other—Reynolds was sitting in an adjacent +box with Kittredge and Bentley and two +other railroad officials—Blount admitted a twinge +of regret that chance, or his convictions, had <a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a>made +him a partisan of the weaker.</p> + +<p>Having been lost in the shuffle, as he expressed it, +Blount made the most of these reflective excursions +during the period of the box-party captivity. From +the rising of the curtain to the going down thereof +the Weatherfords, mother and daughter, kept him +from exchanging so much as a word with Patricia, +whom Gantry was shamelessly monopolizing. But +on the short return walk to the hotel, Blount asserted +his rights and gave Patricia his arm.</p> + +<p>"I think you owe me an abject apology," was the +way she began on him, when they had gained such +privacy as the crowded sidewalk conferred.</p> + +<p>"Consider it made, and then tell me what for," +he rejoined, striving, man-fashion, to catch step +with her mood.</p> + +<p>"For making us leave that dear, delightful, out-of-date, +and out-of-place Georgian mansion in the +hills and come to town when we want to get a sight +of your face."</p> + +<p>"If anybody else should say a thing like that, I'd +blush and call it a compliment," he retorted.<a name="Page_288" id="Page_288"></a> Her +near presence seemed to lift the burden he was carrying, +and it was good to be light-hearted again, if +only for the passing moment.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't meant for a compliment," she returned, +with the straightforward sincerity which Blount had +always been fond of likening to a cup of cold water +on a thirsty day. "Consider a moment. You come +to me with a really harrowing story of your new +experiences, and just as I am beginning to get interested +we are interrupted. In the morning, at +some perfectly impossible hour, off you go, and we +hear no more of you for weeks and weeks. What +have you been doing?"</p> + +<p>"I have been doing precisely what you told me +to do; preaching the gospel of honesty and fair dealing, +and trying my level best to make other people +practise it."</p> + +<p>"You have been successful?" she asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"Reasonably so in the preaching, since that depended +solely upon me. As to the other, I don't +know. Sometimes I'm credulous enough to believe +that the house-cleaners are honestly at work, as they +say they are, and at other times I'm afraid they are +only putting up a bluff to mislead me. Some day, +<a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"></a>perhaps, I may tell you how far I have had to go +into the 'practical-politics' armory to get my +weapons."</p> + +<p>There was still a half-square of the sidewalk privacy +available, and she made what seemed to be +the most necessary use of it.</p> + +<p>"And your father, Evan; are you coming to understand +him any better?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head despondently. "No; or rather +yes. I might say that I am coming to understand +him—or his methods—only too well. The only way +we can keep from quarrelling now is to banish politics +when we are together."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," she said, and the sorrow was emphatic +in her tone. "As I have said before, you +don't understand him. You are judging him by +standards which, however just and true they may +be, are peculiarly<a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a> your own standards. I know you +can be broad for others when you try. Can't you +be broad for him?"</p> + +<p>It was good to hear her defend his father. It was +what he would have wished his wife to do. Suddenly +there arose within him a huge reluctance to lessen +or to weaken in any way her trust in David Blount.</p> + +<p>"Let us say that the fault is mine," he interposed +hastily. "God forbid that I should be the means +of making you think less of him in any respect."</p> + +<p>"You couldn't do that, Evan. He is simply a +grand old man—the first I have ever known for whom +the hackneyed phrase seemed to have been made," +she asserted warmly. "If he has faults, I am sure +they are nothing more than gigantic virtues—the +faults of a man who is too strong and too magnanimous +to be little in any respect."</p> + +<p>The final half-square lay behind them, and Mrs. +Honoria and the senator, Gantry, Gordon and his +wife, and the two Weatherfords, with one of the +marriageable daughters, were at the <i>café</i> door waiting +for the laggards. Being in no proper frame of +<a name="Page_291" id="Page_291"></a>mind to enjoy a theatre supper with another Weatherford +attack as the possible penalty, Blount reluctantly +surrendered Patricia to Gantry, made his excuses, +and went to smoke a bedtime pipe in the homelike +and democratic lobby.</p> + +<p>With Patricia in town the "silver-tongued spellbinder +of Quaretaro Mesa," as <i>The Daily Capital</i> +called the railroad company's campaign field-officer, +would have been glad to evade some of the speaking +appointments; but since his engagements had +been made some days in advance, he was obliged to go.</p> + +<p>On his return to the capital he was delighted to +find the party of three still occupying the private +dining-room suite at the Inter-Mountain. Arriving +on a morning train, he was permitted to make +the party of three a party of four at the breakfast-table; +and with Patricia sitting opposite he was able +to forget the strenuosities for a restful half-hour.</p> + +<p>Later, when he went to his offices in the Temple +Court Building, the strenuosities reasserted themselves +with emphasis. Though he found his desk +closed, and was reasonably certain that he had in +his pocket the only key that would unlock it, he +found his papers scattered in confusion under the +roll-top. A touch upon the electric button brought +the stenographer from the anteroom.</p> + +<p>"Who's been into my desk, Collins?" he demanded, +pointing to the confusion and scrutinizing +<a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"></a>the face of the young man sharply for signs of guilt.</p> + +<p>"Goodness gracious! How could anybody get +into it when you've got the only key, Mr. Blount?" +stammered the clerk. Then he went on, parrot-like: +"I've been putting the letters and telegrams through +the letter-slit, as you told me to, and I've kept the +private office locked."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless it is very evident that somebody +has been here," said Blount. Then he had a sudden +shock and wheeled shortly upon the stenographer. +"Collins, what did you do with that packet of papers +I gave you last Monday—the one I told you to put +away in the safe?"</p> + +<p>"I did just what you told me to; put it in the +inner cash-box, and put the key of the cash-box on +your desk. Didn't you get it?"</p> + +<p>Blount felt in his pockets and found the key, which +he handed to Collins. "Go and get that packet and +bring it to me," he directed. The shock was beginning +to subside a little by now, and he sat down to +bring something like order out of the confusion on +the desk. At first, he had thought that the sheaf +<a name="Page_293" id="Page_293"></a>of evidence letters which gave him the strangle-hold +upon Gantry and the lawbreakers had been left in +a pigeonhole of the desk. Then he remembered having +given it to Collins to put away.</p> + +<p>A minute or two later it occurred to him that the +stenographer was taking a long time for a short errand. +Rising silently, he crossed the room and +reached for the knob of the door of communication. +In the act he saw that the door was ajar, and +through the crack he saw Collins standing before +the opened safe. The clerk was running his tongue +along the flap of a large envelope, preparatory to +sealing it. Blount's first impulse was to break in +with a sharp command. Then he reconsidered and +went back to his desk; was still busy at it when +Collins came in and laid the freshly sealed envelope +before him.</p> + +<p>"That isn't the packet I gave you," said Blount +curtly.</p> + +<p>The clerk looked away. "You meant those letters, +didn't you?" he queried. "The rubber band +broke and I put them in an envelope."</p> + +<p>"When?" snapped Blount.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"></a>The young man faced around again and the innocence +in his look disarmed the questioner.</p> + +<p>"When? Just now. That's what made me so +long—I couldn't find an envelope big enough."</p> + +<p>Blount took up the letter opener and slipped the +blade under the flap of the envelope. If he had +looked up at the stenographer then he would have +seen the mask of innocence slip aside to discover a +face ashen with terror. But whatever the shorthand +man had to fear from the opening of the lately +sealed envelope was postponed by the incoming of +Ackerton, the working head of the legal department, +with a damage suit to discuss with his chief. Blount +thrust the big envelope into his pocket unopened, +and later in the day, when he went around to his +bank to put the evidence letters into his safe-deposit +box, the incident of the morning had lost its +significance so completely, or had been so deeply +buried under other and more important matters, +that he deposited the packet without examining it.</p> + +<p>The evening of this same day there was a dance +given by the Gordons in the ranchman candidate's +big house opposite the Weatherfords' in Mesa Circle, +and Blount went, hoping that Patricia would be +<a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"></a>there. She was there; and in the heart of the evening, +when Blount had persuaded her to sit out a +dance with him in a corner of the homelike reception-hall, +he began to pry at a little stone of +stumbling which was threatening to grow too large +to be easily rolled aside.</p> + +<p>"I'm hunting a conscience to-night," he said, +without preface. "Have you got one that you +could lend me?"</p> + +<p>She laughed lightly.</p> + +<p>"You told me once that I had the New England +conscience—which was the same as saying that I +had enough for my own needs and a surplus to pass +around among my friends. What bad thing have +you been doing now?"</p> + +<p>He made a wry face. "It's the 'practical politics' +again. Suppose I say that I have obtained +positive evidence of a crime against the laws of the +State and the nation. How far am I justified in +suppressing, for a perfectly right and proper end, +this evidence which would send a lot of people to +jail?"</p> + +<p>"Mercy!" she exclaimed; "how you can bring a +thunderbolt crashing down out of a perfectly clear +sky! Is it ever justifiable to shield criminals and +criminality?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296"></a>"That is just what I'm trying to find out," he +persisted. "At the present moment I am shielding +a good handful of open lawbreakers. Some of them +know what I'm doing, and some of them don't. +Those who know have been told that they must be +good or I'll publish the evidence, and they've promised +to be good if I won't publish it. At the time +I didn't question my right to make such a bargain, +but—"</p> + +<p>"But now you are questioning it? What would +happen if you should tell what you know?"</p> + +<p>"Chaos," he replied briefly.</p> + +<p>"May I ask who is implicated?"</p> + +<p>"A good half of the corporation officials in the +State, and some few outside of it."</p> + +<p>"Mercy!" she said again. And then: "It's too +big for me, Evan. I can only go back to first principles +and ask if it is ever justifiable to do evil that +good may come."</p> + +<p>"If you put it that way, I've made myself <i>particeps +criminis</i>," he said gravely. "I have given my +word to keep still if the lawbreaking deals are broken +off at once and in good faith. Beyond that, I can't +help knowing that the exposure which I have threatened +to make, and could make, would practically +turn the people of this State into a mob."</p> + +<p>She was shaking her head determinedly. "I can't +help you this time, Evan; truly I can't." Then, +in sudden appeal: "Why won't you go to your +father? He could tell you what to do and how to +do it, and his judgment would be too big and just +<a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"></a>to stumble over the tangling little moralities."</p> + +<p>Blount smiled.</p> + +<p>"What if I should tell you that my father is more +or less involved, Patricia? I don't know precisely +how much or how little, but I am assured, by those +who claim to know, that he, too, would go down in +the general wreck."</p> + +<p>"I can't believe it!" she protested, in generous +loyalty. "These people, whoever they are, are deceiving +you to shelter themselves. Have you ever +spoken to your father about this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, once; one evening when we were dining +together I told him what I had, and what use I +should make of it if all other means should fail. +Also, I advised him to dodge."</p> + +<p>"What did he say?"</p> + +<p>"That is the discouraging part of it. I was hoping +against hope that he would tell me to go ahead; +that he would say that he wasn't involved. But, +as a matter of fact, he didn't say much of anything. +I'm horribly afraid that his silence meant all that +I've been trying to believe it didn't mean."</p> + +<p>She was slowly opening and closing her fan, as if +she were trying to gain time.</p> +<p><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298"></a></p> +<p>"I can only tell you again what I told you at +first," she said at length. "You must be bigger +than all these hampering circumstances; bigger than +the little moralities, if need be. You can be, Evan; +you've given splendid proof of it thus far, and I'm +proud—just as proud as I can be—"</p> + +<p>Blount felt as if he could, joyously and entirely +without scruple, have brained young Gordon, to +whom the next dance belonged, and who came just at +this climaxing moment to claim Patricia. But there +was no help for it, short of a cold-blooded and rather +embarrassing deed of violence, and the hard-won +confidence ended pretty much where it had begun.</p> + +<p>When he left the Gordon house, which was far +out in the northeastern residence suburb, Blount +meant to go directly to the hotel and to bed. He +had been losing much sleep in the activities of the +campaign, and the loss was beginning to tell upon +him. But as the trolley-car was passing the Temple +Court Building he made sure that he saw a dim +light illuminating the windows of his upper-floor office. +With all his suspicions of the morning reawakened, +he dropped from the car, dashed into the +building, and took the all-night elevator for his office +floor.</p> + +<p>The sleepy elevator-man had to be shaken awake, +and when he had set the car in motion he let it run +past the designated floor. Blount swore impatiently, +and instead of waiting to be carried back, darted +out and ran to the <a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"></a>stairway. When he reached the +lower corridor and was hurrying toward his suite in +the corner of the building, there was a dull crash, as +of a muffled explosion, and two or three of the glass +doors in the street-fronting suite were shattered. +Blount quickened his pace to a run, let himself in +by means of his latch-key, and, cautiously opening +his desk, groped in an inner drawer for the revolver +which Gantry had persuaded him to buy as +a part of the office furnishings.</p> + +<p>With the weapon in hand, he pushed through the +unlatched door into Collins's room. There was an +acrid odor of dynamite fumes in the air, and when +he pressed on to the third room of the suite the gases +were stifling. His first act was to feel for the +switch and cut in the electric lights. The third room, +which had doors of communication with his own +office and Collins's, was a wreck. Desks were +broken open, and the safe-door had been blown from +its hinges.</p> + +<p>Blount saw the figure of a small man with his cap +pulled down over his ears bending over the wrecked +cash-box. At the upblazing of the ceiling lights, +<a name="Page_300" id="Page_300"></a>the man sprang to his feet and fled, going out through +the door by which Blount had just entered, and snapping +the light-switch as he passed to leave the rooms +in darkness.</p> + +<p>Blount was cursing his own lack of presence of +mind when he turned to follow the escaping burglar. +In the darkness he fell over a chair, and by the time +he had disentangled himself and had reached the +corridor the safe-blower was gone. Racing to the +elevator, Blount rang the bell until the sleepy car-tender +set the machinery in motion and lifted himself +to the floor of happenings. Here the incident +ended abruptly, so far as any helpful discoveries +were concerned. The elevator-man had carried no +one down, and he confessed shamefacedly that he +had again been asleep, and could not say whether +or not anybody had descended the stair which circled +the elevator-shaft.</p> + +<p>Blount went back to his office, turned in a police +alarm, and waited until a policeman came from the +nearest station. Then he went to report the safe-blowing +in person to the night captain on duty in<a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a> +the basement of the City Hall. A drowsy clerk took +notes of the story, and the night captain contented +himself with asking a single question.</p> + +<p>"Do you know how much you lost, Mr. Blount?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing of any great consequence, I imagine," +said Blount, remembering, with an inward thrill +of thankfulness, the morning impulse which had +prompted him to transfer the one thing of inestimable +consequence to the security of the bank safe-deposit +box. Then he added: "There was a little +money in the box, and some papers of no especial +value to anybody. Just the same, captain, I want +that man caught."</p> + +<p>"We'll catch him, come morning," was the assurance, +<a name="Page_302" id="Page_302"></a>and then Blount went away and carried +out his original intention of going to the Inter-Mountain +and to bed.</p> + +<p>To bed; but, for a long hour after the post-midnight +quiet had settled down upon the great hostelry, not +to sleep. If he had asked himself why he could not +close his eyes and take the needed rest, the exciting +incident in which he had lately been an actor would +have offered a sufficient answer. But in reality the +sharpened spur of wakefulness penetrated much more +deeply. Beyond all doubt or shadow of doubt, it +was the sinister, many-armed machine which had +reached out to seize and destroy the evidence against +its allies and fellow conspirators, the lawbreaking +railroad company and the vote-selling corporations.</p> + +<p>And, again beyond doubt, he made sure, it was his +own boast made to his father which had been passed +on to tell the sham burglar where to look and what +to look for.</p> + + +<p><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> + +<h3>ON THE KNEES OF THE HIGH GODS</h3> + + +<p>In the evening of the day following the safe-blowing +in Blount's office, a one-car train, running as +second section of the Overland, slipped unostentatiously +into the capital railroad yard. With as little +stir as it had made in its arrival, the single-car train +took a siding below the freight station, where it would +be concealed from the prying eyes of any chance +prowler from the newspaper offices.</p> + +<p>Coincident with the side-tracking O'Brien, the +vice-president's stenographer, dropped from the +step of the car and went in search of a telephone. +When O'Brien was safely out of the way, a small +man, clean-shaven and alert in his movements, +whipped out of the shadows of the nearest string of +box-cars, pushed brusquely past the guarding porter, +and presented himself at the desk in the roomy office +compartment of the private car.</p> + +<p>The vice-president looked up and nodded. "How +are you, Gibbert?" he said, and the<a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"></a>n: "You may condense +your report. I have seen the newspapers. +In passing I may say that it isn't much to your +credit that you had to fall back upon the methods +of the yeggmen."</p> + +<p>"There wasn't any other way," protested the +small man. "The papers were locked up in the +cash-box of the safe, and young Blount carried the +only key."</p> + +<p>"It was crude; not at all worthy of a man of +your ability, Gibbert. And if the newspapers tell +it straight, you came near being caught. How did +that happen?"</p> + +<p>"Blount went to a ball, and I shadowed him. +His girl was there, and it looked like a safe bet +that he'd stay to see the lights put out. But he +didn't."</p> + +<p>"Well, never mind; you got the papers, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>The company detective drew a thick envelope +from his pocket and laid it upon the desk. The +vice-president tore it open and read rapidly through +the file of letters it had enclosed, tearing them one +by one fr<a name="Page_305" id="Page_305"></a>om the hold of the brass fastener at the +upper left-hand corner as he glanced them over. +"The chuckle-headed fools!" he gritted, apostrophizing +the writers of the letters. And then: "Gibbert, +I'd like to go into this a little deeper, if we had +time; I'd like to know why in hell every man in +this State with whom we've had a private business +arrangement found it necessary to spread the details +out on paper and send them to young Blount! Here; +burn these things as I hand them to you."</p> + +<p>The small man struck a match and, using the +wide-mouthed metal cuspidor for an ash-pan, lighted +the letters one at a time as they were given to him. +When the cinder skeleton of the final sheet had been +crushed into ashes, he rose from his knees and +reached for his hat.</p> + +<p>"Any other orders?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No; nothing more. You are reasonably sure +that you haven't been recognized here by any of +our local people?"</p> + +<p>"I've kept the 'make-up' on most of the time. +I've been in Mr. Gantry's office a couple of times, +and in Mr. Kittredge's once, and neither of them +caught on to me."</p><p><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306"></a></p> + +<p>"That's good. You'd better go now. O'Brien +has gone after Gantry and Kittredge, and I don't +care to have them find you here. Better take the +first train back to Chicago. These mutton-headed +police here might possibly get on your track, and +we don't want to have to explain anything to +them."</p> + +<p>Five minutes after the small man had dropped +from the step of the "008," to disappear in the box-car +shadows, Gantry and Kittredge came down the +yard and entered the private car. Again the vice-president +said, "How are you?" and nodded toward +the nearest chairs. "Sit down; I'll be through in a +minute," and he went on reading the file of papers +taken up at the departure of the detective. At the +end of the minute he shot a question at the two +who were waiting.</p> + +<p>"You got my message?"</p> + +<p>Gantry answered for himself and the superintendent. +"Yes. Your orders have been carried out. +The yards are posted, and nobody, outside of a few +of our own men, knows that yo<a name="Page_307" id="Page_307"></a>ur car is here."</p> + +<p>The vice-president took one of the long black +cigars from the open box on the flat-topped desk, +and passed the box to his two lieutenants.</p> + +<p>"Light up," he said tersely. "I'm due in Twin +Canyons City to-morrow morning, and we've got +to thresh this thing out in a hurry. Any change +in the situation since your last report?"</p> + +<p>Gantry shook his head. "Nothing very important. +Blount's up-town office was broken into last +night and his safe ripped open with dynamite, as I +suppose you have read in the papers. Who did it, +or why it was done, nobody seems to know."</p> + +<p>"Well, what came of it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, so far as I can find out," returned the +traffic manager. "Blount had been to the Gordon +dance, and he saw the light in his office as he was +coming down-town. When he went up to find out +what was going on, he caught the safe-blower fairly +in the act, but the fellow got away."</p> + +<p>"Did Blount lose anything?"</p> + +<p>"That's the queer part of it. Blount won't say +much about it; and this morning he went around +to police headquarters and told the chief to drop +the matter, giving as his reason that he was too busy +to prosecute the fellow even if he was caught."</p> + +<p>To a disinterested observer it might have seemed +<a name="Page_308" id="Page_308"></a>a little singular that the vice-president made no further +comment upon the burglary. As a matter of +fact, his next question completely ignored it.</p> + +<p>"What has Blount been doing this week?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"He has spoken twice; once at Arequipa and once +at Hellersville. I understand he has engagements +enough to keep him out of town right up to election +day."</p> + +<p>"That is good," was the nodded approval. "He +would only be in the way here at the capital." And +then pointedly to Gantry: "Any more of that nonsense +about putting a barrel of powder under us +and blowing us all up if we don't build the freight +tariffs over to suit his notion?"</p> + +<p>"A good bit more of it," Gantry admitted reluctantly. +"The other day he went so far as to set a +time limit; gave me three days of grace in which to +file the public notice of the change in rates."</p> + +<p>"What did you do?"</p> + +<p>"I filed the notice—taking care that the only +copy should be the one I sent to Blount's office."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309"></a>The vice-president looked coldly at his division +traffic manager.</p> + +<p>"There are times, Gantry, when you seem to be +losing your grip. Dave Blount's son isn't a school-boy, +to be fooled by such a transparent trick as that! +Don't you suppose he knows, as well as you do, that +the public notice has to be filed in every station on +the road?"</p> + +<p>"I had to take a chance—I've had to take a good +many chances," protested the traffic manager in his +own defence; and Kittredge, a bearded giant who +was fully the vice-president's match in heroic physique, +removed his cigar to say: "That young fellow +has been a frost. If he isn't a wild-eyed fanatic, +as Gantry insists he is, he is deeper than the +deep blue sea! I'd just about as soon have a box +of dynamite kicking around underfoot as to have +him messing in this campaign fight. I've been keeping +cases on him, as you ordered, and he has worn +out three of my best office men on the job."</p> + +<p>"You are prejudiced, Kittredge," was the vice-preside<a name="Page_310" id="Page_310"></a>nt's +comment. "It was the best move in +the entire campaign—putting him in the field. +Apart from the public sentiment he has been turning +our way, we mustn't lose sight of the fact that +we got hold of him at a time when the Honorable +Senator was getting ready to turn us down."</p> + +<p>"Speaking of the sentiment," Gantry put in, "I +don't know whether it's all sentiment or not. There's +a sort of mystery mixed up in this speech-making +business of Blount's. At first I thought maybe his +sudden popularity was due to some word sent out +from your Chicago office; but when you told me it +wasn't, I began to do a little speculating on my own +account. I can't make up my mind yet whether it +is pure popularity, or whether it's the assisted kind."</p> + +<p>"Assisted?" said the vice-president, with a lifting +of the heavy eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Yes. It has been too unanimous. I have a +trustworthy man in Blount's up-town office, and he +says the invitations have fluttered in like autumn +<a name="Page_311" id="Page_311"></a>leaves; more than Blount could accept if he travelled +continuously. Kittredge's men report that the +speech-making has been a triumphant progress all +over the State; bands, receptions, committees, and +banquets wherever Blount goes."</p> + +<p>Mr. McVickar grunted. "The speeches have been +all that anybody could ask. I've been reading +them."</p> + +<p>Kittredge shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Gantry says they are, but I say no," he contended. +"There is such a thing as putting too much +sugar in the coffee. Blount's overdoing it; he's +putting the whitewash on so thick that any little +handful of mud that happens to be thrown will stick +and look bad."</p> + +<p>"Of course, we have to take chances on that," +was the vice-president's qualifying clause. "Nevertheless, +young Blount's talk has undoubtedly had<a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"></a> +its effect upon public sentiment. We must be careful +not to let the opposition newspapers get hold of +anything that would tend to nullify it."</p> + +<p>"They are moving heaven and earth to do it," +said the superintendent. "The Honorable David +is lying low, as he usually does, but I more than +half believe he's getting ready to give us the double-cross. +That is the explanation of this safe-blowing +scrape, as I put it up."</p> + +<p>Again the vice-president failed to comment further +on the burglary. "What I am most afraid of, +now, is that our young man may be, as you say, +Kittredge, a trifle over-zealous," he said musingly. +"We have discovered that he is something of a +fanatic."</p> + +<p>"He's more than that," Kittredge cut in quickly. +"One of the men I've had following him—Farnsworth—is +as good as any Pinkerton that ever walked. +He says Blount isn't half so innocent as he looks +and acts. The speech-making has taken him into +every corner of t<a name="Page_313" id="Page_313"></a>he State, and Farnsworth says he +has been doing a lot of quiet prying around and +investigating on the side."</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking," Gantry added, "what a +beautiful mix-up we should have if the senator and +his son should both conclude to pull out and get +together at the last moment."</p> + +<p>The master plotter shook his head. "You have +no sense of perspective, Gantry. Young Blount is +with us solely because he is too straightforward to +countenance his father's political methods. On the +other hand, if the Honorable Dave should turn upon +us now, he would be obliged to do it at the expense +of his son's reputation. Anything he could say +against us would simply have the effect of holding +his son up to public exprobration as a common +campaign liar. I know David Blount pretty well; +he won't do anything like that."</p> + +<p>Gantry bit his lip and a slow smile of respectful +admiration crept up to the Irish eyes.</p> + +<p>"When it comes to the real fine-haire<a name="Page_314" id="Page_314"></a>d work, you +have us all feeling for hand-holds, Mr. McVickar," +he said. "Now I know why you made a place for +Evan Blount, and why you have been giving him a +free hand on the whitewashing. It's the biggest thing +that has ever been pulled off in Western politics!"</p> + +<p>"It hasn't been pulled off yet," was the quick +reply. "We are holding old David in a noose that +may turn into a rope of sand at any minute; don't +forget that. During the few days intervening before +the election we must preserve the present status +at any cost. Young Blount is the only man who +may possibly disturb it. Keep him out of the way. +If he doesn't have speaking invitations enough to +busy him, see to it that he gets them. As long +as you can keep him talking he won't have any time +for side issues. Now about this Gryson business: +you want to handle that yourselves, and I don't +want any more telegrams like the one you sent me +last night, Gantry. What's the condition?"</p> + +<p>Gantry outlined the Gryson "condition" briefly. +The man Gryson, who had developed into a heeler +of sorts, had been growing restive, wanting more +money.</p> + +<p>"What can he swing?" was the curt question.</p> + +<p>"Six out of seven pretty close counties. I don't +pretend to know how he has done it, but he has got +the goods; I've taken the trouble to check up on +him. With his pull, we can swing the vote of the capital +itself."</p> + +<p>The vice-president frowned thoughtfully. "The<a name="Page_315" id="Page_315"></a> +old game of stuffing the registration lists, I suppose," +he said. And then:"Young Blount hasn't got wind +of this, has he?"</p> + +<p>Gantry laughed. "You may be sure he hasn't. +He has it in for Gryson on general principles—made +us take him off the shop pay-rolls. If he thought +we were dickering with him now, he'd be down on +us like a thousand of brick."</p> + +<p>"Well, why don't you fix Gryson, once for all, +and have it over with? You oughtn't to expect me +to come here and tell you what to do!"</p> + +<p>It was at this point that Kittredge broke in.</p> + +<p>"Gryson isn't safe. I have it straight that he is +getting ready to sell us out. That's why he wants +his pay in advance."</p> + +<p>The vice-president's heavy brows met in a frown, +and the muscles of his square jaw hardened.</p> + +<p>"Put Gryson on the rack and show him what +you've got on him in that Montana bank robbery. +That will bring him to book. It will be time enough +to talk abo<a name="Page_316" id="Page_316"></a>ut terms when he delivers the goods. +Now another thing—that Shonoho Inn matter that +I wired about—what has been done?"</p> + +<p>"It is all arranged," said the big superintendent. +"The house was closed for the season last month, +and we have taken a short lease. One of our dining-car +managers will take charge of the service."</p> + +<p>"And the wires?"</p> + +<p>"We have made a cut-in from the old Shoshone +Mine wire, which wasn't taken down when the mine +was abandoned. That let us out very neatly, and +no one outside of our own line-men know anything +about the job. We have four instruments in the +hotel writing-room; two on the commercial and two +on the railroad wires. Will that be enough?"</p> + +<p>Mr. McVickar nodded and reached over to press +the bell-push which signalled to his train conductor.</p> + +<p>"That is about all I have to say," he said, in dismissal +of the two local officials. "Just nail Gryson +up to the cross, where he belongs, and keep young<a name="Page_317" id="Page_317"></a> +Blount busy and out of town; I leave the details +to you. Get orders for me as you go up to your +office, Kittredge, and have the despatcher let me +out as soon as possible. I ought to be half-way to +Alkali by this time."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE CHASM</h3> + + +<p>It was young Ranlett, a reporter for <i>The Plainsman</i>, +who told Evan Blount of the arrival of the +vice-president's car, running as second section of the +Overland, and the scene of the telling was the lobby +of the Inter-Mountain Hotel, where Blount was +smoking a pipe of disappointment filled and lighted +upon hearing that his father, Mrs. Honoria, and +Patricia had gone out to dinner somewhere—place +unknown to the obliging room clerk.</p> + +<p>Ranlett had tried ineffectually to get to the private +car, having for his object the interviewing of +the vice-president, but there had been curious obstructions. +The lower yard was apparently carefully +guarded, since the reporter had been turned +back at three or four different points when he had +attempted to cross the tracks. Blount thought it +a little singular that the vice-president should come +to the capital secretly, but he did not s<a name="Page_318" id="Page_318"></a>top to speculate +upon this.</p> + +<p>Having something more than a suspicion that +Gantry had not properly passed the threat of exposure +up to McVickar, he determined at once to +seek an interview with the vice-president. Walking +rapidly down to the Sierra Avenue station, he saw +a light in Gantry's office, and meaning to be fair +first and severe afterward, if needful, he ran up the +stair and tried the door of the traffic manager's office. +It opened under his hand, and he found Gantry sitting +at his desk.</p> + +<p>"Ranlett tells me that Mr. McVickar is in town," +he began abruptly. "Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Ranlett is mistaken—about twenty minutes mistaken," +was Gantry's reply. "Mr. McVickar passed +through here a few minutes ago on his way to Twin +Canyons City. His special has been gone some little +time."</p> + +<p>"When is he coming back?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Did you see him?"</p> + +<p>"I <a name="Page_319" id="Page_319"></a>did."</p> + +<p>"Did you take up with him the matter of issuing +new tariffs to do away with the preferentials, or to +level the public rates down to them?"</p> + +<p>Gantry shifted uneasily in his chair, and tried to +evade. "There was very little time," he said. "Mr. +McVickar was in a great hurry, and his special was +held only a few minutes."</p> + +<p>Blount crossed the room and sat down.</p> + +<p>"Dick, we've come to the last round-up," he said +gravely. "In the nature of things, I can't give you +any more time. You've been playing with me all +along, and your last move in the game was a very +childish one—sending me what purported to be a +copy of a new freight tariff notice to the public. +Did you suppose for a moment that I wouldn't have +sense enough to see that the thing wasn't official, +that it had no signatures and lacked even the name +of the railroad company? I'm here now to tell you +that you've got to do some real thing, and do it +quickly. Let's go up and see the editor of <i>The +Capital</i>."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320"></a>"What for?" demanded Gantry.</p> + +<p>"It is the railroad paper, and I want you to give +Brinkley, the editor, an interview to the effect that +a revision of the freight rates is in process, and that +shippers having grievances should present them at +once. That will at least start the ball to rolling in +the right direction."</p> + +<p>"I should think it would!" scoffed the traffic manager. +"What you don't know about the making of +freight tariffs would sink a ship, Evan. These things +can't be done while you wait!"</p> + +<p>"But they must be, in this instance," Blount +insisted. "If you won't withdraw the preferentials +given to the corporations, you must do the other +thing. Post your legal notice of a reduction of the +rates on the commodities upon which you are now +allowing rebates, and I'll fight straight through on +the line I've been taking all along."</p> + +<p>"And if we don't?" queried Gantry.</p> + +<p>"What is the use of making me say it for the +hundredth time, Dick? If you don't do one or the +other, there will be an explosion, just as I've told +you. Of course, you know that my safe was broken +open last night—wrecked with dynamite?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, unluckily for you, the packet of papers +which might otherwise have been taken or destroyed, +didn't happen to be in the safe. The documents are +<a name="Page_321" id="Page_321"></a>still where they can be used at an hour's notice. +And, by heaven, Dick, I'll use them if you don't +play fair!"</p> + +<p>Gantry, long-suffering and patient to a fault in a +business affair, was not altogether superhuman.</p> + +<p>"Evan, you are a frost—a black frost! You harp +on one string until you wear it to frazzles! Don't +you know that the Transcontinental is big enough +and strong enough to chivvy you from one end of +this country to the other, if you turn traitor? I +love a fighting man, but by God, I haven't any use +for a fool!"</p> + +<p>Blount laughed.</p> + +<p>"If I have succeeded in making you angry, perhaps +there is a chance that you will do something. +You may curse me out all you want to, but the +fact remains. I'm going to explode the bomb, and +it will be touched off long enough before election to +do the work, if you keep on refusing to make my +word good to the people. That is all—<i>all</i> the all. +Now, will you go up to <i>The Capital</i> office with me, +and dictate that bit of information that I mentioned?"</p> + +<p>"Not in a thousand years!" raged Gantry. "Not +in ten thousand years!" Nevertheless he rose, closed +his desk, and prepared to accompany the importunate +<a name="Page_322" id="Page_322"></a>political manager. Half-way up the first square +he said: "There is no use in our going to <i>The Capital</i> +office at this time of night. Brinkley doesn't get +around to his desk much before eleven. Let's go +up to the club."</p> + +<p>At the Railway Club the traffic manager developed +a keen desire to kill the intervening time in a game +of billiards. Blount indulged him, beat him three +games in succession, and consistently refused to +drink with him. At the end of the third game, +Gantry gave a terse definition, abusively worded, +of a man who would force his friend to go and drink +alone, and went to the buffet. Ten minutes later, +when Blount went after him, he had disappeared, +and the visit to the newspaper office was postponed, +perforce.</p> + +<p>On the following morning, Blount found a telegram +on his desk. It bore the vice-president's name, +and the date-line was Twin Canyons City. It directed +him to go to a remote portion of the State +beyond the Lost River Mountains to examine the +papers in a right-of-way case which was coming up +for trial at the next term of court. This was in Kittredge's +department, and Blount called the superintendent +on the phone. Kittredge was in hi<a name="Page_323" id="Page_323"></a>s office, +and he evidently knew about the vice-president's +telegram. Also, he seemed anxious to have the division +counsel go to Lewiston at once; so anxious that +he offered his own service-car to be run as a special +train.</p> + +<p>Blount saw no way to evade a positive order from +the vice-president, but he was more than suspicious +that Gantry or Kittredge, or possibly both of them, +had misrepresented the right-of-way case to Mr. +McVickar, in an attempt to get him away from the +city and so to postpone a reiteration of the demand +for a new freight tariff. What he did not suspect +was that Mr. McVickar's telegram might possibly +have originated in Kittredge's office.</p> + +<p>Asking the superintendent to have the service-car +made ready immediately, he packed his handbag, +left a note for Patricia, who was not yet visible, +and another for Gantry, who was not in his office, +and began the roundabout journey.</p> + +<p>In all his travelling up and down the State he +had never found anything to equal the slowness of +the special train. The noon meal, served by Kittredge's +cook in the open compartment, found the +special less than fifty miles on its way, and comfortably +waiting at that hour on a side-track among +the sage-brush hills for the coming of a delayed train +in the opposite direction. Four mortal hours were +lost on<a name="Page_324" id="Page_324"></a> the lonely siding. There was no station, and +Blount could not telegraph. So far as he knew, the +service-car might stay there for a day or a week. +It was all to no purpose that he quarrelled with his +conductor. The train crew had orders to wait for +the west-bound time freight, and there was nothing +to do but to keep on waiting.</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon the time freight, or some +other train, came along, and the special was once +more set in motion eastward, but at dinner-time it +was again side-tracked, eighty-odd miles from its +destination, and once more at a desert siding where +there was no telegraph office. The car was still +standing on the siding when Blount went to bed. +But in the morning it was in motion again, jogging +now on its leisurely way up the branch line.</p> + +<p>At Lewiston, the town at the end of the branch +where the right-of-way trouble had originated, Blount +found more delay, carefully planned for, as he had +now come firmly to believe. The plaintiffs in the +right-of-way case were out of town, and their lawyers +had gone to the capital. Blount saw that he +might wait a week without accomplishing anything, +hence he immediately instructed his conductor to +get orders for the return.</p> + +<p>After having been gone a half-hour or more, the +conductor came back to the service-car to say that +the single telegraph-wire connecting Lewiston with +the outer world was down, and that the orders for +the return journey could not be obtained until the +telegraph connection was restored. At that point +Blount took matters into his own hands.</p> + +<p>There was a mining company having its headquarters<a name="Page_325" id="Page_325"></a> +in the isolated town, and Blount had met +the manager once in the capital—met him in a social +way, and had been able to show him some little +attention. Hiring a buckboard at the one livery +stable in the place, he drove out to the "Little +Mary," and found Blatchford, the friendly manager, +smoking a black clay cutty pipe in his shack office. +It did not take Blount over a minute to renew the +pleasant acquaintance, and to state his dilemma.</p> + +<p>"I'm hung up here with my special train, the wires +are down and I can't get out," was his statement of +the crude fact. "Didn't you tell me that you owned +a motor-car?"</p> + +<p>"I did," was the prompt reply. "Want to borrow +it?"</p> + +<p>"You beat me to it," said Blount, laughing. +"That was precisely what I was going to beg for—the +loan of your car. I believe you told me that +you had driven it from here to the capital."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; several times, and the road is fairly +good by way of Arequipa and Lost River Canyon. +It's only about half as far across country as it is +around by the railroad. You ought to make it in +six hours and a half, or seven at the longest. Drive +me down to the burg, and I'll put you in possession."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326"></a>Blount began to be audibly thankful, but the mine +manager good-naturedly cut him short.</p> + +<p>"It's all in the day's work, Mr. Blount, and I'm +glad to be of service—not because you are the +Transcontinental's lawyer, nor altogether because +you are the Honorable David's son. I haven't forgotten +your kindness to me when I was in town +three weeks ago. Let's go and get out the chug-wagon."</p> + +<p>A little later Blount found himself handling the +wheel of a very serviceable knockabout car equipped +for hard work on country roads. When he was ready +to go, he drove down to the railroad yard and hunted +up his conductor.</p> + +<p>"After you have had your vacation, you may get +orders from Mr. Kittredge and take his car back to +the capital," he told the man. "When you do, you +may give him my compliments, and tell him I preferred +to run my own special train."</p> + +<p>The conductor grinned and made no reply, and +he was still grinning when he sauntered into the +railroad telegraph office and spoke to the operator.</p> + +<p>"I dunno what's up," he said, "but whatever it +was, the string's broke. Old Dave Sage-Brush's +son has borrowed him an automobile, and gone back +to town on his own hook. Guess you'd better call +<a name="Page_327" id="Page_327"></a>up the division despatcher and tell him the broken-wire +gag didn't work. Get a move on. We hain't +got nothin' to stay here for now."</p> + +<p>Blount had a very pleasant drive across country, +with no mishap worse than a blown-out tire and a +little carbureter trouble. Being a motorist of parts, +neither the accident nor the needed readjustment +detained him very long, and by the middle of the +afternoon he was racing down the smooth northern +road, with the spires and tall buildings of the capital +fairly in sight.</p> + +<p>Not to let gratitude lag too far behind the service +rendered, he drove Blatchford's car to the garage +nearest the freight station, left instructions to have +it shipped back to Lewiston by the first train, and +promptly went in search of Gantry. The traffic +manager was not in his office, but Blount found him +at the Railway Club.</p> + +<p>"Just a word, Dick," he began, when he had overtaken +his man pointing for the buffet. "Kittredge +put up a job on me, and I think you helped him.<a name="Page_328" id="Page_328"></a> +I had to borrow an automobile to come back in +from Lewiston. It's down at the Central Garage, +and I have given Bankston, the garage man, orders +to ship it back to Mr. Blatchford, of the 'Little +Mary.' I wish you'd phone your freight agent to +see that it is properly taken care of, and that the +freight bill is sent to me."</p> + +<p>Gantry made no reply, but he went obediently to +the house telephone and gave the necessary instructions. +The thing done, he turned shortly upon +Blount, scowling morosely.</p> + +<p>"Come on in and let's have a drink," he said.</p> + +<p>Blount marked the brittleness of tone and the +half-quarrelsome light in the eyes which were a little +bloodshot.</p> + +<p>"No, Dick; you've had one too many already," +<a name="Page_329" id="Page_329"></a>he objected firmly.</p> + +<p>Gantry put his back against the wall of the corridor.</p> + +<p>"No," he rasped; "I'm not drunk, but I'm ready +to fight you to a finish, and for once in a way I'm +going to get in the first lick. You've been bluffing +me from the start, and you're going to try it again. +It won't go this time; you've got to show me!"</p> + +<p>If Blount hesitated it was only because he was +trying to determine whether or not the traffic manager +was business-fit. Gantry comprehended perfectly, +and his laugh was derisive and a trifle bitter.</p> + +<p>"You're sizing me up and asking yourself if I'm +too far gone to be worth while," he jeered. "If I +couldn't stand any more liquid grief than you can, +I would have been down and out years ago. Show +your hand, Evan—if you have any to show."</p> + +<p>Blount hesitated no longer. Taking Gantry's arm, +he led him out of the club and around the block to<a name="Page_330" id="Page_330"></a> +the Sierra National Bank. It was after banking +hours, but the side door giving access to the safe-deposit +department was still open. With the traffic +manager at his elbow, Blount asked the custodian +for his private box, got it, and led the way to one +of the cell-like retiring rooms. Gantry proved his +capacity for transacting business by turning on the +lights, locking the door, and squaring himself in a +chair at one side of the tiny writing-table.</p> + +<p>Blount opened the japanned safety box, took out +a bulky envelope and tossed it across to the traffic +manager.</p> + +<p>"You can see for yourself whether I've been +bluffing or not," he said quietly; and then he turned +his back and interested himself in the lithograph of +the latest Atlantic liner framed and hanging upon +the mahogany end wall of the small room.</p> + +<p>For a little time there was a dead silence, broken +only by the faint rustling of the papers as Gantry +withdrew and unfolded them. When he had glanced +at the last folded letter sheet, he snapped the rubber +band upon the sheaf and sat back in his chair. +Blount turned at the snap and found the traffic +manager smiling curiously up at him.</p> +<p><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331"></a></p> +<p>"Sit down, Evan," was the friendly invitation. +And when Blount had dropped into the opposite +chair: "We used to be pretty good friends in the +old days, Ebee," Gantry went on, falling easily into +the use of the college nickname. "I haven't forgotten +the time when I would have had to break +and go home if you hadn't stood by me like a brother +and lent me money. For that reason, and for some +others, I hate to see you bucking a dead wall out +here in the greasewood hills."</p> + +<p>"It is you and your kind who are bucking the +dead wall, Dick."</p> + +<p>"No, listen; I'm giving it to you straight, now. +A few minutes ago you thought I was drunk—possibly +too far gone to serve your purpose. I wasn't; +I was merely sick and disgusted at the spectacle +afforded by a crafty, crooked, double-dealing old +world—the world we're living in. Once in a blue +moon an honest man turns up, and when that happens +he's got to be broken on the wheel—as you're +going to be broken. Oh, yes; I came out with +ideals, too, but they've been knocked out of me. +We all have to keep the lock-step in business, and +business is hell, Evan. I'm honest to my salt—which +is to say that as yet I'm not using my job to +line my own pockets, but that's the one decent thing +that can be said of me. Don't let me bore you."</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Blount soberly. "I don't see the +<a name="Page_332" id="Page_332"></a>pointing of it yet, but—"</p> + +<p>"You will when I tell you that I've been lying +to you; faking first one thing and then another. +Do you get that?"</p> + +<p>"I hear you say it; yes."</p> + +<p>"It's so. I faked that story about your father's +having made an underground deal with us. It was +a lie out of whole cloth, because I didn't believe at +that time that he had. There had been a falling +out between him and Mr. McVickar; that was common +talk on the division. But until yesterday I +didn't know for certain that the trouble had been +patched up; in fact, I had my own reasons for believing +that it hadn't been patched up."</p> + +<p>"And you told me there was an alliance in order +that I might believe that my father would be involved +in an exposure of the railroad's double-dealing +with the public?"</p> + +<p>"Just that. Self-preservation is the primal law—after +you've dropped the ideals—and I thought +I had invented a way to hold you down. I might +have saved myself the trouble—and the lie. It +comes down to this, Evan: you are one man against +a crooked world, and you haven't had a ghost of a +show from the first minute."</p><p><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333"></a></p> + +<p>"You'll have to make it plainer," was the even-toned +rejoinder. "As matters stand now, I am +pretty well assured that I can do what I set out to +do. I'm going to be able to make my own employers +come through with clean hands."</p> + +<p>Gantry was shaking his head slowly, and again +the curious smile flitted across his keen, fine-featured +face, lingering for an instant at the corners of +the eyes.</p> + +<p>"You say I'll have to make it plainer, and I will. +A little while ago you intimated that Kittredge and +I were responsible for the telegram which sent you +to Lewiston yesterday. It was a fake, but it didn't +originate with Kittredge or with me."</p> + +<p>"With whom, then?"</p> + +<p>"I hate to tell you, Evan—it'll hit you hard. +The frame-up was your father's. He got hold of +Kittredge the night before, some time after we had +left my office together to go up-town. He told Kittredge +it was for the good of 'the cause,' and suggested +that a wire purporting to come from Mr. +McVickar would probably turn the trick. He didn't +give his reason for wanting to get you out of the +way at this time, and Kittredge didn't ask it."</p> + +<p>Blount was pinning the traffic manager down with +an eyehold which was like a gripping hand, and the +<a name="Page_334" id="Page_334"></a>close air of the little mahogany bank cell became +suddenly charged with the subtle effluence of antagonism. +Blount was the first to break the painful +silence.</p> + +<p>"You have told me nothing new, Dick, or at least +nothing that I have not been taking for granted almost +from the beginning. But let it be understood +between us, once for all, that I discuss my father, +his motives, or his acts, with no man living. We'll +drop that phase of it; it's a side issue, and has no +bearing upon the business that brought us here. +You asked for the proof of my ability to compel +your employers and mine to turn over the clean +leaf. You have it there under your hand."</p> + +<p>For answer, Gantry pushed the rubber-banded file +across the table to his companion. "Take another +look, Evan, and see how helpless you are in the grip +of a crooked world," he said, very gently.</p> + +<p>Blount caught up the file and ran it through. It +was made up wholly of pieces of blank paper, cut to +letter-size, and clipped at the corner with a brass +fastener, as the originals had been.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> +<p><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335"></a></p> + +<h3>A COG IN THE WHEEL</h3> + + +<p>While Blount was staring abstractedly at the +file of blank sheets which had been substituted for +the incriminating letters of the vote-selling corporation +managers, with Gantry sitting back, alert and +watchful, to mark the first signs of the coming storm, +there came a tap on the locked door of the little +room, and a deprecatory voice said: "It's our closing +time, gentlemen: if you are about through—"</p> + +<p>"In a minute," returned Gantry quickly, and then +he took the blank dummy out of Blount's hands, +pocketed it, shut the japanned safety box, and +touched his companion's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Let's get out of this, Evan," he said, still speaking +as one speaks to a hurt child. "Conroy wants +to close up."</p> + +<p>Blount suffered himself to be led away, and in +the vault room he went mechanically through the +motions of locking up the empty box. In the street +Gantry once more took the lead, walking his silent +<a name="Page_336" id="Page_336"></a>charge around the block and into the Temple Court +elevator. A little later, when the door of the private +room in the up-town legal office had opened to +admit them, and Blount had dropped heavily into his +own desk chair, Gantry plunged promptly into the +breach.</p> + +<p>"We've been friendly enemies in this thing right +from the start, Evan," he began, "and that's as it +had to be. But blood—even the blood of a college +brotherhood—is thicker than water. I know now +what you're in for, and I'm going to stand by you, +if it costs me my job. First, let's clear the way a +bit. If I say that I haven't had anything to do, +even by implication, with this jolt you've just been +given, will you believe me?"</p> + +<p>Blount lifted a pair of heavy-lidded eyes and let +them rest for an instant upon the face of the traffic +manager. "If you say so, Dick, I'll believe it," he +returned.</p> + +<p>"Good. Now we can dive into the thick of it. +I won't insult you by doubting the premising fact. +You had the evidence once?"</p> + +<p>"I did—enough of it to keep a grand jury busy +<a name="Page_337" id="Page_337"></a>for a month. It came to me in the shape of unsolicited +letters from the men who are benefiting by the +railroad company's evasion of the law, and who are, +of course, equally criminal with the railroad officials. +Why these letters were written to me I don't know, +Gantry. I merely know that they were wholly unsolicited."</p> + +<p>"They were written to you because you are supposed +to be the doctor in the present crisis."</p> + +<p>"But good God, Dick! Haven't I been shouting +from every platform in the State that we were out +for a clean campaign?"</p> + +<p>Gantry shook his head and his smile was commiserative. +"I know; and every man who has +had his fingers in the pitch-barrel has chuckled to +himself, and when two of them would get together +they'd pound each other on the back and swear that +you were the smoothest spellbinder that Mr. McVickar +has ever turned loose on this side of the big +mountains. It grinds, Evan, but it's the fact. Not +one of the men you are after has ever taken your +speeches seriously."</p> + +<p>Blount's head sank lower.</p> + +<p>"I'm smashed, Dick!" he groaned; "utterly and +irretrievably disgraced and discredited in my native +State! There isn't a man in the sage-brush +hills who would believe me under oath, after this."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338"></a>"It's hard, Evan—damned hard!" said the traffic +manager, driven to repetition. "But grilling over it +doesn't get us anywhere. What are you going to do"?</p> + +<p>"With the election only five days away, there is +nothing that can be done. I had you down, Dick; +I could have forced my point with the weapon I +had. Isn't that so?"</p> + +<p>Gantry wagged his head dubiously. "I'm not the +big boss, but I can tell you right now that, if you +could have shown me what I was fully expecting to +see, the wires between here and wherever Mr. McVickar's +private car happens to be would have been +kept pretty hot for a while." Then, upon second +thought: "Yes; I guess you could have pulled it off. +We couldn't stand for any such bill-boarding as you +were threatening to give us."</p> + +<p>Blount turned to his desk, opened it, and began +to arrange his papers.</p> + +<p>"You've been a good friend, after all, Dick," he +said, talking as he worked. "I'm going to ask you +to go one step farther and take charge of the funeral, +if you will. Find Mr. McVickar and wire him that +I've dropped out. I'll write him a resignation from +somewhere, when I have time."</p><p><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339"></a></p> + +<p>Gantry left his chair and came to stand beside +the quitter.</p> + +<p>"Honestly, Evan," he said slowly, "I thought you +were a grown man. You'll forgive the mistake, +won't you?"</p> + +<p>Blount turned upon his tormentor and swore +pathetically. "What's the use—what in the devil +is the use?" he rasped, when the outburst began to +grow measurably articulate. "You know as well as +I do what's been done to me, and who has done it. +Can I lift my hand to strike back, even if I had a +weapon to strike with?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you can't. But you owe it to yourself, +and to a certain bright-minded young woman that +I know of, not to fly off the handle without at least +trying to see if you can't stay on. Wait a minute." +The railroad man took a turn up and down the floor, +head down and hands behind him. When he came +back to the desk end he began again. "Evan, who's +got those original papers?"</p> +<p><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340"></a></p> +<p>"The man who blew up my safe, of course. +You've said you didn't hire him, and that leaves +only one alternative."</p> + +<p>Gantry took the dummy packet from his pocket +and held one of the blank sheets up to the light of +the window. It was growing dusk, and when he +failed to discern what he was looking for, he turned +on the electric lights and tried again. At this the +script "T-C" water-mark was plainly visible, and +he showed it to Blount.</p> + +<p>"That proves conclusively that the substitution +was made here in your own office. Whom do you +suspect?"</p> + +<p>In a flash Blount remembered: how he had sent +Collins to get the packet out of the safe, the stenographer's +delay, the hasty sealing of the envelope, +and the suspicion which had been cut short by the +incoming of Ackerton.</p> + +<p>"I know now who did it, and when it was done," +he said. "The day before the office was broken +into I told Collins to bring <a name="Page_341" id="Page_341"></a>me the papers from the +safe. What he brought me was that dummy—in a +freshly sealed envelope. I was going to open +the envelope, but just then Ackerton came in."</p> + +<p>"All clear so far," said Gantry; and then: "Where +is Collins now?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know; he comes and goes pretty much +as he pleases when I'm not in town."</p> + +<p>"Do you know anything about him personally?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"I do. His father was a bank cashier, and he +became a defaulter—of the easy-mark kind; the +kind that is too good-natured to look too curiously +at a friend's collateral. He would have gone over +the road if your father hadn't pulled him out by +main strength."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Blount cynically. "And the son +has paid his father's debt to my father. But why +the safe-blowing?"</p> + +<p>"Collins's face had to be<a name="Page_342" id="Page_342"></a> saved in some way. He +couldn't know that you meant to lock the dummy +up in the safety vault," returned Gantry, and then, +after a pause: "That's our one little ray of hope, +Evan."</p> + +<p>"I don't see it."</p> + +<p>"Don't you? Then I'll make it a bit plainer. If +some railroad burglar had cracked your safe, you +could confidently assume that the original letters +have been carefully cremated by this time, couldn't +you?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"But if your father has them ... Evan, I don't +know any more than the man in the moon what he +wants them for, but the man in the street would +grin and tell you that your father was merely getting +ready to hold the railroad company up for something +it didn't want to part with."</p> + +<p>"I'm letting you say it of my own flesh and blood, +Dick; and it shows you how badly broken I am. +After all, it doesn't lead anywhere."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it does. Let us suppose, just for the sake +of argument, that your father doesn't know how +much those letters mean to you—I know it's a pretty +hard thing to imagine, but we'll do it by main +strength and awkwardness. Let us suppose agai<a name="Page_343" id="Page_343"></a>n, +that being the case, that you go to him frankly and +show him in a few well-chosen words just where he +has landed you; tell him you've got to have those +letters—simply <i>got</i> to have them—to save your face. +I know your father, Evan, a good bit better than you +do; he'd give you the earth with a fence around it +if you should ask him for it."</p> + +<p>Evan Blount got slowly out of his chair, stood up, +and put his hands upon the smaller man's shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Dick, do you realize what you are doing for yourself +when you show me a possible way of getting +my weapon back?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>Gantry's lips became a fine straight line and he +nodded.</p> + +<p>"That's what made me walk the floor a few minutes +ago; I was trying to find out if I were big +enough. It's all right, Ebee; you go to it, and I'll +throw up my job and run a foot-race with the sheriff, +if I have to. Damn the job, anyway!" he finished +petulantly. "I'm tired of being a robber for +somebody else's pocket all the time!"</p> +<p><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344"></a></p> +<p>Blount sat down again and put his face in his +hands. After a time he looked up to say: "I can't +let you outbid me in the open market, Dick. You +can't set the friendship peg any higher than I can."</p> + +<p>Gantry crossed the room and recovered his top-coat +and hat from the chair where he had thrown +them.</p> + +<p>"Don't you be a fool," he advised curtly. +"There's a railroad down in Peru that is going +bankrupt for the lack of a wide-awake, up-to-date +traffic man. I've had the offer on my desk for a +month, and I'm going to cable to-night. That lets +you out, whether you do or don't. But if you've +got the sense of a wooden Indian, you'll do as I've +said—and do it <i>pronto</i>. Your time's mighty short, +anyway. So long."</p> + +<p>And before Blount could stop him he was gone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h2> + +<h3><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345"></a>A STONE FOR BREAD</h3> + + +<p>Though he had eaten nothing since the early +breakfast in the service-car on the way to Lewiston, +Evan Blount let the dinner hour go by unnoted. +For a long time after Gantry had left him he sat +motionless, a prey to thoughts too bitter to find +expression in words; the dismaying thoughts of the +hard-pressed champion who has discovered that his +foes are of his own household.</p> + +<p>Apart from the one great boyhood sorrow, a sorrow +which had been allowed unduly to magnify +itself with the passing years, he had never been +brought face to face with any of the hardnesses +which alone can make the soldier of life entirely +intrepid in the shock of battle. In the backward +glance he saw that his homeless youth had been, +none the less, a sheltered youth; that his father's +love and care had built and maintained invisible ramparts +which had hitherto shielded him. It was most +humiliating to find that the crumbling of the ramparts +was leaving him naked and shivering; to find +that he was so far out of touch with his pioneer +lineage as to be unable to stand alone.</p><p><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346"></a></p> + +<p>But there are better things in the blood of the +pioneers than a latter-day descendant of the continent-conquering +fathers may be able to discern in +the moment of defeat and disaster. Slowly, so +slowly that he did not recognize the precise moment +at which the tide of depression and wretchedness +reached its lowest ebb and turned to sweep him +back to a firmer footing, Blount found himself emerging +from the bitter waters. Gantry, the Gantry +whom he had been calling hard names, setting him +down as at best a lovable but wholly unprincipled +time-server, had pointed a possible way to retrieval, +heroically effacing himself that the way might be +unobstructed. With the warm blood leaping again, +Blount straightened himself in his chair. He would +go to his father, not as a son begging a boon, but as +a man demanding his rights. The machine had seen +fit to throw down the challenge by burglarizing his +office and robbing him. Very good; there were five +days remaining in which to strike back. He would +lift the challenge, and if his reasonable demand should +be refused, he would drop the railroad crusade and +break into the wider field of bossism and machine-made +<a name="Page_347" id="Page_347"></a>majorities, ploughing and turning it up to the +light as he could.</p> + +<p>The fiery resolution had scarcely been taken when +he heard the door of Collins's outer room open and +close, and a moment later the good-looking young +stenographer came in, bringing a breath of the crisp +autumn evening with him.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know you were back, Mr. Blount!" he +exclaimed. "I saw the office lights from the street, +and thought somebody had left them turned on. Is +there anything I can do?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; sit down," said Blount crisply, and then: +"Collins, what do you do with yourself when I am +out of town?"</p> + +<p>"I stay here most of the time. I went out early +this afternoon, but I don't often do it."</p> + +<p>"Were you here all day yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Was there anything unu<a name="Page_348" id="Page_348"></a>sual going on?"</p> + +<p>The young man looked away as if he expected to +find his answer in the farther corner of the room.</p> + +<p>"I don't know as you'd call it unusual," he replied +half-hesitantly. "There were a good many callers. +Shall I bring you the list?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>The stenographer went out to his desk and brought +back a slip of paper with the names.</p> + +<p>"This man Gryson," said Blount, running his eye +over the memorandum, "I see you've got him down +four or five times. What did he want?"</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't tell me. But he was all kinds of +anxious to see you. That was why I telegraphed you; +I couldn't get rid of him any other way."</p> + +<p>"Let me see the copy of the message."</p> + +<p>Again Collins made a journey to his desk, returning +with the telegraph-impression book open at the +proper page. Blount glanced at the copy of the +brief message: "Thomas Gryson wants to know when +he can be sure of finding you here," and handed the +book back.</p> +<p><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349"></a></p> +<p>"How did you send that?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I sent it down to the despatcher's office by +Barney."</p> + +<p>Blount nodded. The message had not reached +him; and its suppression was doubtless another move +in the subtle game.</p> + +<p>"You say you couldn't find out what Gryson +wanted?" he pressed.</p> + +<p>"He—he seemed to be all torn up about something; +couldn't say three words without putting a +cuss word in with them. The most I could get out +of him was that somebody was trying to double-cross +him."</p> + +<p>Blount took a cigar from his pocket and lighted +it. He was faint for lack of food, but he absently +mistook the hunger for the tobacco craving.</p> + +<p>"Collins," he said evenly, "you appear to forget +at times that you are working for a man who has +had some little experience with unwilling witnesses +in the cou<a name="Page_350" id="Page_350"></a>rts. You are not telling me the truth; +or, at least, you're not telling me all of it. Let's +have the part that you are keeping back."</p> + +<p>"The—the last time he was in, he—he did talk a +little," faltered the young man. "He's got something +to sell, and he's f-fighting mad at Mr. Kittredge. +He said he was going to throw the gaff into +somebody damn' quick if Mr. Kittredge didn't wipe +off the slate and c-come across with the price."</p> + +<p>"That is better," was the brief comment. "Now, +then, why did you lie to me in the first place?"</p> + +<p>The stenographer shut his eyes and shrunk lower +in his chair, but he made no reply.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you why you lied," Blount went on, less +harshly. "It was because you were told to. Isn't +that so?"</p> + +<p>Collins nodded.</p> + +<p>Reaching out quickly, Blount laid a hand on the +young man's knee. "Fred, what do you think of +a soldier who takes his pay from one side and fights +on the other? That is what you've been doing, you +know; it is what you did when you put a dozen +<a name="Page_351" id="Page_351"></a>sheets of blank paper into an envelope the other +day—the day I sent you to get a file of letters +marked 'private' from the safe."</p> + +<p>The culprit drew away from the touch of the hand +on his knee, and there was fear, and behind the fear +the courage of desperation, in his eyes when he lifted +them.</p> + +<p>"You can give me the third degree if you want +to, Mr. Blount, but as long as I've got the breath +to say no, I'll never tell you the next thing you're +going to ask me!"</p> + +<p>Blount sprang up and went to stand at the window. +There was a street arc-lamp swinging in its +<a name="Page_352" id="Page_352"></a>high sling some distance below the window level, its +scintillant spark changing weirdly to blue and green +and back to blinding orange, and he stared so steadily +at it that his eyes were full of tears when he turned +to look down upon the waiting culprit.</p> + +<p>"No, Collins; I'm not going to ask you the name +of the other master for whom you have thrown me +down," he said gravely; and then: "That's all—you +may go now."</p> + +<p>The young man got up and groped for the hat +which had fallen from his hands to the floor and +rolled away out of reach.</p> + +<p>"You mean that I'm to get my time-check?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"No," he grated—the harshness returning suddenly. +"You are disloyal, and I know it; your +successor would probably be the same, and I +shouldn't know it."</p> +<p><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353"></a></p> +<p>Nerved to the strident pitch now by the new +resolution, Blount hurriedly set his desk in order, +slammed it shut, and followed the stenographer to +the street level. In the avenue he hesitated for a +moment, the thoughts shuttling swiftly. In a flash +the inferences fell into place. Gantry had said that +his father was responsible for the time-killing journey +to Lewiston. Why had it been necessary? Was +it to keep him out of Gryson's way? What did the +ward-organizer have to communicate that made him +so anxious to secure an interview? Was that anxiety +the breach through which the wider field of corruption +might be reached?</p> + +<p>Again swift decision came to its own and Blount +faced to the right, walking rapidly until he turned +in at the foot of the worn double flight of stairs +leading to the editorial rooms of <i>The Plainsman</i>. +Blenkinsop, the editor, a lean, haggard man with a +sallow face, coarse black hair worn always a little +longer than the prevailing cut, and deep-set, gloomy +eyes, was at his desk.</p> + +<p>"Can you give me a few minutes of your time, +Blenkinsop?" the cal<a name="Page_354" id="Page_354"></a>ler asked shortly.</p> + +<p>"I can sell 'em to you, maybe," said the editor, +and the lift of the gloomy eyes merely served to +turn the jest into a bit of morbid sarcasm. Then +he gave the sarcasm a half-bitter twist: "You railroad +gentlemen are always willing to buy what you +can't reach out and take."</p> + +<p>"I know that is what you believe," said Blount, +drawing up a broken chair and planting himself +carefully in it; "we are on opposite sides of the +fence in this fight, if you are fighting the railroad +merely because it is a railroad; otherwise, perhaps, +we are not so far apart as we might be. I don't +know whether or not you have listened to any of +my speeches, but you've printed a good many of +them."</p> + +<p>The editor nodded. "I've read 'em, and I'm +willing to be the hundredth man and say that I believe +you are individually honest. I hope you're +not going to ask me to go any further than +that."</p> + +<p>"I'm not; I came for quite another purpose.<a name="Page_355" id="Page_355"></a> +First, let me ask a frank question: Is <i>The Plainsman</i> +out for a square deal all around, regardless of who +may be hit?"</p> + +<p>Blenkinsop took time to consider the question and +his answer, chewing thoughtfully upon his extinct +cigar while he reflected.</p> + +<p>"This is straight goods?" he asked finally. +"You're not trying to pull me into an admission +that can be used against us a little later on?"</p> + +<p>"At the present moment you are talking to Evan +Blount, the man, and not to the Transcontinental +company's lawyer, Blenkinsop."</p> + +<p>"All right; then I'll tell you flat that we are out +for blood. We hold no brief for any living man. +There are no strings tied to us, and we wear nobody's +brass collar."</p> + +<p>"Then you are fighting the machine as well as +the railroad?" Blount put in quickly.</p> + +<p>The editor sat back in his cha<a name="Page_356" id="Page_356"></a>ir, and the two furrows +which deepened upon either side of his hard-bitted +mouth answered for a smile.</p> + +<p>"When you find a machine that hasn't got +'T-C.R.' lettered on it somewhere, you let us +know about it," was his rather cryptic reply.</p> + +<p>"That is not the point," said Blount dryly. +"Here is the question I wanted to ask: There are +only five days intervening before the election. How +wide a swath could you cut if the evidence of wholesale +corruption could be placed in your hands within +twenty-four hours?"</p> + +<p>Again the editor took time to consider. When he +spoke it was to say: "I can't quite believe that you +are going to be disloyal to your salt at this late +stage of the game, Blount. Do you mean that you +are going to show your own company up for what +it really is?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind about that. I asked a question, and +you haven't answered it."</p> + +<p>"It was a question of time, wasn't it? There's +time enough to tip the skillet over and spill all the +grease into the fire, if that's what you mean; always +time enough, up to the l<a name="Page_357" id="Page_357"></a>ast issue before the polls +open."</p> + +<p>"And you'd do it—no matter who might happen +to get in the way of the burning grease?"</p> + +<p>"We print the news, and we try to get all the news +there is. But it would have to be straight goods, +Blount; no 'ifs' and 'ands' about it. I'm not saying +that you couldn't produce the goods, you know. +If you could break into Gantry's and Kittredge's +private files, the trick would be turned. But I know +well enough you're not going to do that."</p> + +<p>Blount got up out of the broken chair and buttoned +his coat.</p> + +<p>"I needn't take any more of your time just now," +he said. "I merely wanted to know how far you'd +go if somebody should happen along at the last moment +and give you a plain map of the road."</p> + +<p>"We'll go as far, and drive as hard, as any newspaper +this side of the Missouri River. But we've +got to have the facts—don't forget that."</p> + +<p>Blount was turning to go, but he faced around +again sharply.</p> +<p><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358"></a></p> +<p>"Do you mean to tell me, Blenkinsop, that you +don't know, as well as you know you're alive, that +this campaign is honeycombed with deals and trades +and dishonesty and trickery in every legislative district?" +he demanded.</p> + +<p>Again the ghastly smile which was only a deepening +of the natural furrows flitted across the editor's +face.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I know it," he returned. "But you'll +excuse me if I say that I scarcely expected to have +the railroad company's field-manager come and tell +me about it."</p> + +<p>Blount's grim smile was a match for the editorial +face-wrinkling. "You are like a good many others, +Blenkinsop; you see red when you hear the noise +of a railroad train. Perhaps, a little later, I may +be able to persuade you to see another color—yellow, +for example. Let it go at that. Good-night."</p> + +<p>Once more in the avenue, Blount turned his steps +toward the Inter-Mountain. Since the campaign<a name="Page_359" id="Page_359"></a> +was now in its final week, the clans were gathering +in the capital, and the lobby of the great hotel was +filled with groups of caucussing politicians. Blount +was halted half a dozen times before he could make +his way to the room-clerk's desk, and the pumping +process to which he was subjected at each fresh stoppage +would have amused him if the fiery resolution +which was driving him on had not temporarily +killed his sense of humor. It was evident that, in +spite of all he had been saying and doing, a considerable +majority of the caucussers were still regarding +him as his father's lieutenant. He did not try very +hard to remove the impression. It mattered little, +in the present crisis, what the various party henchmen +thought or believed.</p> + +<p>It was a sharp disappointment when the room-clerk +told him that his father and Mrs. Honoria and +their guest had gone to the theatre. He was keyed +to the fighting-pitch, and he wanted to have the +deciding word spoken while his blood was up and +there was still time to act. A glance at the clock +showed him that he had a full half-hour to wait; and, +as much to escape the buzzing lobbyists as to satisfy +his hunger, he went to the <i>café</i> and ordered a belated +dinner, choosing a table from which he could +look out through the open doors and command the +<a name="Page_360" id="Page_360"></a>main entrance through which the theatre-goers would +return.</p> + +<p>He was through with the dinner, and was slowly +sipping his black coffee, when he saw them come in. +Since it was no part of his plan to dull the edge of +opportunity by holding it first upon the social grindstone, +he let the party of three go on to the elevators, +and a little later sent a card up-stairs asking his father +to meet him in the lounge on the mezzanine floor.</p> + +<p>Having the advantage of time, he was first at the +appointed meeting-place. He had drawn a chair +to the balustrade, and was glooming thoughtfully +down at the lobby gathering, upon which even the +lateness of the hour appeared to have no dispersing +effect, when a mellow voice behind him said: "Well, +son, taking a quiet little squint at the menagerie?"</p> + +<p>Blount got up and gave the speaker his chair, +dragging up another for himself. The senator sat +down and stretched his great frame like a man +wearied. "Ah, Lord!" he said. "The old man isn't +as young as he used to be, Evan, boy. There was +a time once when eleven o'clock didn't seem any +later to me than it does now to you; but it's gone +by, son, and I don't reckon it'll ever come back +again."</p> + +<p>Blount drew his chair nearer. "I have a hard +thing to say to you to-night, dad," he began, "and +you mustn't make it harder by speaking of your—of +the things that get near to me. I am a man +grown, and a Blount, like yourself; I want you to +give me back those papers which your dynamiter +or somebody else in your pay took from my offic<a name="Page_361" id="Page_361"></a>e +safe three nights ago."</p> + +<p>The senator's eyes lighted with the gentle smile, +and the tips of the great mustaches twitched slightly.</p> + +<p>"So McVickar's been telling tales out of school, +has he?" he inquired half-jocularly.</p> + +<p>"I have had no communication with Mr. McVickar. +It wasn't necessary, nor is it needful for +us to go aside out of the straight road. I want those +papers. They are mine, and they were stolen."</p> + +<p>The elder man smiled again. "What if I should +say that I haven't got 'em, son—what then?" he +asked mildly.</p> + +<p>"I don't want you to say that. I want to believe +that, however bitter this fight may grow, we shall +still speak the truth to each other."</p> + +<p>There was silence for a little time, and then the +father broke it to say: "Reckon I could ask you +what papers you mean, without roiling the water +any more than it's already been roiled, son?"</p> + +<p>"You may ask and I'll answer, if you'll let me say +that it is hardly worth while for you to spar with me +to gain time. I had certain documents—letters—which +would have enabled me to come through clean +with my own people—with the railroad management. +You knew I had them; I was imprudent enough to +boast of it one evening when we were dining together +in your rooms. I know what I'm talking about, +dad, when I make this <a name="Page_362" id="Page_362"></a>demand of you. One of my +clerks has been tampered with. Three days ago, +when I asked him to bring me the letters from the +safe, he brought me, instead, a packet of blank +paper which he allowed me to go and lock up in +my safety-box in the Sierra National. I don't know +why you had the safe blown up, unless it was to +save Collins's face."</p> + +<p>Again a silence intervened, and in the midst of +it the senator sat up and began to feel half-absently +in his pockets for a cigar. Blount offered his own +pocket-case, following it with the tender of a lighted +match. With the cigar going, the Honorable David +settled back in the deep chair, chuckling thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"They wrote me from back yonder on the Eastern +edge of things that you had the makings of a mighty +fine lawyer in you, boy, and I'll be switched if I +don't believe they had it about right. The way +you've trailed this thing out doesn't leave the old +man a hole as big as a dog-burrow to crawl out of, +does it, now? Reckon you've sure-enough got to +have those papers back before you can go on, do +you?"</p> + +<p>"You know I must. You know what I've been +preaching and talking: I have<a name="Page_363" id="Page_363"></a> meant every word of it +in good faith, and when I began to doubt the good +faith of those behind me, I was forced to cast about +for a weapon. It was handed to me almost miraculously, +and as long as I held it my good name before +the people of the State was safe. As the matter +stands now, I'm a broken man, dad. After the +election I shall be billeted from one end of the State +to the other as the most shameless liar that ever +breathed!"</p> + +<p>The senator was rocking his great head slowly +upon the chair-pillow. "That's bad; that's mighty +bad, son. I reckon we'll have to fix some way to +trail you out of that bog-hole, sure enough!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not asking for help; I'm asking for bare justice. +Give me those papers and I'll fight myself +clear."</p> + +<p>"And if I say I can't give 'em to you, Evan, boy, +what then?"</p> + +<p>"Then, hard and unfilial as it may seem to you, +I shall fight you and your machine to a finish. You +think I can't do it? I'll show you. I've got five +days, and they are all my own. This campaign has<a name="Page_364" id="Page_364"></a> +been rotten to the core from the very beginning. +You have tried to keep me from finding it out, and +you have partly succeeded. But I know a little, and +inside of the next twenty-four hours I shall know +more. That's my last word, dad, and it breaks my +heart to have to say it. But, by the God who made +us both, if you drive me to it, I shall stir up such a +revolution in this State that the people will forget +to curse me for the lies I have been allowed to tell +them!"</p> + +<p>Blount was upon his feet when he finished, and +<a name="Page_365" id="Page_365"></a>the senator was rising stiffly from the depths of the +big chair.</p> + +<p>"That's good, man-sized talk, son," he commented +gently, "and I reckon I haven't a word to +say against it. All I'm going to beg for is this: +we're kin, boy—mighty close kin. Belt away as +hard as you like in the big scrap; it does me good +to see that all these little Eastern frills haven't +made you any less a two-fisted, hard-hitting Blount; +but don't let it make you turn your back when +your old daddy comes into the room. That's all I +ask. Now you'd better go to bed and sleep up +some. There's another day coming, and if there +isn't, none of these little things we've been haggling +over is going to count for much to any of us."</p> + +<p>Three minutes later the Honorable Senator Sage-Brush +was letting himself into the sitting-room of +his suite on the private dining-room floor by means +of his night-key. The small person whom Gantry +and a few others were still calling the court of last +resort was sitting up, and the tiny embroidery-frame +on the table had evi<a name="Page_366" id="Page_366"></a>dently just been laid +aside.</p> + +<p>"Well?" she said inquiringly.</p> + +<p>The senator shook his head in patient tolerance.</p> + +<p>"Whatever you've been doing, it's knocked the +bottom clean out for the boy, Honoria. For a little +spell he had me going, and I thought I'd just naturally +have to turn loose and spill all the fat into the +fire."</p> + +<p>"You mustn't do that," she returned quickly. +"There are five days yet, and I need at least three +of them. He was very angry?"</p> + +<p>"Fighting mad."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said the small one thoughtfully. +"But we can't allow that to get in the way of the +bigger things. It won't make any family break, will +it? For Patricia's sake I shall be sorry if he is +desperate enough to make the quarrel a personal +one."</p> + +<p>"I did the best I could on that, little woman, and +I reckon he's big enough to keep on telling us +'Howdy.' What comes <a name="Page_367" id="Page_367"></a>next on the programme?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow I'm going to try to get him to take +Patricia driving. Beyond that I haven't planned, +and anyway it doesn't matter, now that you have +Gryson out of the way." Then she offered a bit +of news. "Richard Gantry telephoned me a few +minutes ago. He has sent in his resignation, and is +going to Peru."</p> + +<p>The senator was opening the door to the adjoining +bedroom and turning on the lights.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I reckon not," he rejoined, with a mellow +laugh rumbling deep in his great body. "Dick +only thinks he is going to Peru. We all think such +things now and then."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI</h2> + +<h3>THE UNDER-DOG</h3> + + +<p>Blount's first move on the morning following the +militant interview with his father was telegraphic; +he wired the campaign chairmen in the three towns +remaining on his list, cancelling his speaking-engagements. +Beyond that he went forth to institute a +<a name="Page_368" id="Page_368"></a>painstaking search in the purlieus of the city, a quest +having for its object the unearthing of the man +Thomas Gryson. More and more he was coming to +believe that this man was the key to a larger situation +in the field of political corruption than any +which had as yet developed. Wherefore he made +the search thorough.</p> + +<p>Oddly enough, considering the man and his habits, +the quest proved fruitless. Blount was too clean +a man to be on familiar terms with the saloon men +and dive-keepers of the capital-city underworld, or +with the crooks and turnings of the underworld itself; +but he found his way around easily enough in +daylight, and had his labor for his pains. For when +he went back to the hotel at the luncheon-hour he +brought little with him save a stench in his nostrils +and a slightly increased fund of mystification. Gryson +had disappeared as completely as if the earth +had opened and swallowed him. And Blount knew +the disappearance was real, because the ward-heeler's +own henchmen were searching for him.</p> + +<p>Daunted but not beaten, Blount meant to continue +the quest in the afternoon. But man proposes, +and a small <i>dea ex machina</i> may dispose. At the +<i>café</i> family luncheon, at which Blount was c<a name="Page_369" id="Page_369"></a>areful +to make his appearance, not only because Patricia +was there, but also for the sake of keeping the kinsman +peace his father had begged for, it transpired +that Patricia had been promised an auto drive to +Fort Parker, the military reservation sixteen miles +to the westward, and that there were difficulties. +The senator's wife took his arm and explained her +dilemma at the table dispersal.</p> + +<p>"It is parade day at the Fort, you know, and +Patricia has set her heart on going. I don't know +how I came to be so absurdly thoughtless, but I +promised her before I remembered that this is the +Kismet Club election afternoon, and if I don't go, +they'll make me president again in spite of everything," +she said in low tones as they were leaving +the <i>café</i>. "I simply <i>can't</i> serve another year; and +at the same time, I do so dislike to disappoint Patricia. +She is such a dear girl!" Mrs. Honoria was +strictly within the bounds of truth in claiming to +have forgotten the date of the Kismet election of +officers; but it was equally true that the club would +re-elect her, present or absent, since she was its +founder and chief patroness.</p> + +<p>Blount saw the pointing of all this with perfect +clarity, and he had no need to assure himself that +it had every ear-mark of another expedient to get +<a name="Page_370" id="Page_370"></a>him out of the way. But while he was with Mrs. +Honoria and listening to her persuasive little appeals +it was much harder to maintain the antagonistic +attitude than it was when she figured—at +a distance—merely as his father's second wife and +his mother's supplanter. Foolish? Oh, yes; but at +times when the star of impulse is in the ascendant +every man hath a fool in his sleeve.</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> too bad to disappoint her," he found himself +saying, matching the little lady's low tone. "If I +wasn't so terribly busy—"</p> + +<p>"I know; and just now, with the election so near, +you must be busier than ever. I suppose I shall +have to explain to Patricia, and it hurts me, when +she is going home so soon."</p> + +<p>"Going home?" echoed the victim.</p> + +<p>"Yes; in a few days now. The professor has +already overstayed his leave of absence, so he says."</p> + +<p>Blount clenched a figurative fist and shook it savagely +at an unkind fate. Nevertheless, he fell.</p> + +<p>"If you can shift your responsibility to my shoulders, +Mrs. Blount—" he began, but she would not +let him finish.</p> +<p><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371"></a></p> +<p>"Oh! that is <i>so</i> good of you, Evan. Take the +little car, and be sure to ask the garage man to put +in new batteries. The magneto isn't working very +well. And be here by half past one if you can. +The parade is at half past two, you know."</p> + +<p>Under other conditions the railroad company's +"social secretary," as the society editors of the capital +were still calling him, might have had a joyous +half-holiday. The autumn afternoon was picture-fine, +the little car ran well, and Patricia's mood was +tempered with the gayety which strives to extract +the final thrill of enjoyment out of the closing days +of a delightful vacation. Blount was grateful for +the light-hearted mood. He felt that it would be +next to impossible to tell Patricia how wretchedly +he had failed in the single-handed crusade, and, as +to the desperate alternative, there could be no confidences +with one whose every reference to his father +was shot through with loving and loyal admiration.</p> + +<p>At the military reservation there were fewer opportunities +for the confidences, or rather fewer temptations +to indulge in them. It was a gala day at +the post, and there were a number of auto parties +out from the city. Blount knew most of the officers +and their wives, and Patricia was welcomed not less +for her own sake than for the reason that she had +figured in former visits as the <i>protégée</i> of an ex-senator's +wife. After the parade there was an impromptu +game of baseball, with the broad verandas of the +officers' quarters servin<a name="Page_372" id="Page_372"></a>g for the grandstand. Beyond +the game there was tea, and the sunset gun +had been fired before the young lieutenant, who had +attached himself to Miss Anners at the earliest possible +moment in the afternoon, reluctantly surrendered +his prize and handed Patricia into the waiting +runabout for the return to the capital.</p> + +<p>"We shall be late for dinner, if we don't hurry," +was the young woman's comment when Blount +steered the little car clear of the post settlement and +took the road well in the wake of the Weatherford +touring machine. Then she added: "We mustn't +be; we are dining out this evening—at the Gordons."</p> + +<p>Blount was entirely willing to hurry. Half of one +of the precious days of challenge had been wasted +in the futile search for Gryson, and here was the +other half worse than wasted, since the handsome +young lieutenant had so brazenly monopolized Patricia.</p> + +<p>"I'll get you home in time for dinner, never fear," +he returned, but apparently the little car was no +party to the promise. A short mile from the reservation +the motor began to miss, and a few minutes +farther along it stopped altogether. Blount got out +and began to investigate. There was plenty of gasolene, +but the spark appeared to be dead.</p> + +<p>"I ought t<a name="Page_373" id="Page_373"></a>o have a leather medal!" he confided +to Patricia, in great disgust. "Mrs. Blount told +me that the batteries needed to be changed, and I +had them changed, but neglected to have them +tested. Sit still and let me spin it on the magneto +a while."</p> + +<p>She let him do it until the perspiration was standing +in fine little beads on his forehead and he was +hot and desperate. Then she said sweetly: "I don't +believe I'd wear myself out that way, if I were you, +Evan. Something happened to the magneto two +or three weeks ago, and it has never been fixed."</p> + +<p>Blount pushed his driving-cap back, mopped his +face, and came around to dive once more into the +wiring in the battery box. Dusk was coming on, +and he had to light one of the side-lamps to serve +as a lantern. By changing the wiring he was finally +able to evoke a desultory response from the spark-coil, +and a little later to start the motor after some +limping fashion.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my poor dinner!" said Miss Anners, who was +still in the light-hearted mood; this after Blount's +careful nursing had resulted in a creeping resumption +of the cityward progress. And then: "I hope +you didn't have any engagement for this evening?"</p> + +<p>"I have but one ambition in life," he rejoined +grimly, "and that is to get you back to the hotel +in time for your engagement. Surely Mrs. Blount +will wait for you."</p> +<p><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374"></a></p> +<p>At the rate they were going the waiting promised +to be long. But after another half-hour had been +killed, the headlights of a westward-driven car appeared +in the road ahead. Blount pulled quickly +into the ditch and jumped out to flag the oncoming +machine; did flag it, and was able to borrow a set +of batteries. With the new equipment the remainder +of the drive was accomplished swiftly, but not swiftly +enough. At the Inter-Mountain they found that +the senator and Mrs. Honoria had gone to keep their +dinner engagement, and a note in the little lady's +copperplate handwriting informed Blount that the +invitation had been made to include him, and that +he was to hurry and bring Patricia.</p> + +<p>Fully alive now to the time-killing purpose of the +clever little machinator in arranging to have spent +batteries given him, Blount, nevertheless, did his +duty like a man, and the pair made a late descent +upon the Gordon dinner-table. Though the dinner +was informal, there were other guests besides the +senator's party, and among them the traffic manager. +Blount, sitting next to Patricia, made their tardiness +an excuse and devoted himself to her, thus escaping +the toils of the general table-talk, which was frankly +political. But at the adjournment to the drawing-room +he cornered Gantry.</p><p><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375"></a></p> + +<p>"I meant to hunt you up this afternoon," he began, +"but I was otherwise spoken for. What have you +done?"</p> + +<p>"I've cabled a conditional acceptance of the offer +I was telling you about."</p> + +<p>"But you haven't resigned?"</p> + +<p>"No. Mr. McVickar will probably be here within +a day or two, and I'll make it verbal."</p> + +<p>Yielding to the urgings of the younger Gordon, +Patricia was going to the piano, and Blount snatched +at his opportunity.</p> + +<p>"Give me a few minutes in the smoking-room," +<a name="Page_376" id="Page_376"></a>he said to the traffic manager, and when the privacy +was secured: "You needn't resign, Dick. There +isn't going to be any earthquake—of the kind you +were fearing."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean that the Honorable Senator has +turned you down, Evan?"</p> + +<p>"Just that."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," said the friend in need, feeling his +way cautiously. Then he added: "You needn't +tell me anything more than you want to, you know."</p> + +<p>"There isn't much to tell. I asked for bare justice, +and it was refused."</p> + +<p>"Your father has the papers?"</p> + +<p>"He neither admitted nor denied."</p> + +<p>"But you didn't quarrel?"</p> + +<p>Blount's smile was mirthless. "We are here together, +as you see. After all is said, we are still +father and son."</p><p><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377"></a></p> + +<p>"Of course; that's as it should be, Evan. What +are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know: go on fighting until I'm wiped +out, I suppose. And that reminds me: have you +seen that fellow Gryson within the last day or two?"</p> + +<p>Gantry dropped into the depths of a lounging-chair +and lighted a cigarette. "So you're after +Thomas Matthew, too, are you? Kittredge has been +ransacking the town for him all day, and up to a +couple of hours ago he hadn't found him. What's +in the wind?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, but I mean to find out. What +can you tell me about Gryson—more than you have +already told me?"</p> + +<p>"Not very much, I guess. He's a scalawag, of +course, but unhappily for all of us he is a scalawag +with a pull. Kittredge has been dickering with him—I +don't mind telling you that now."</p> + +<p>"What is the nature of the pull?"</p> + +<p>"Votes," said Gantry succinctly.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378"></a>"Straight or crooked?"</p> + +<p>"You may search me. But knowing Tom Gryson +a little, I should put my money on the marked +card."</p> + +<p>"Naturally," said Blount dryly. "Still, I am needing +to be shown. I've had two or three chances +to size Gryson up, and he didn't impress me as a +man with any ability beyond the requirements of a +bully and the lowest type of a political heeler."</p> + +<p>"Tom is bigger than that; I don't know how +much bigger, but some. He has votes to sell, and +Kittredge, at least, seems to believe that he can +deliver the goods. I don't know the inside of the +deal. I'll tell you frankly that I tried to shove it +over to you, neck and heels, at first. When that +little notion failed, I pushed it along to Kittredge."</p> + +<p>Blount's eyebrows, which promised in time to be +as portentous as the Honorable Senator's, met in a +frown. "I'm going to find Gryson, dead or alive," +he said.</p> + +<p>Gantry looked up quickly.</p> + +<p>"Which means that you know what has become +of him?"</p> + +<p>"He has been put out of the way for a purpose,<a name="Page_379" id="Page_379"></a> +and the purpose is to keep me from finding out +something that Gryson wants to tell me. That was +the animus of the scheme to send me on a fool's +errand to Lewiston. After you left me last night I +found out that Gryson had been worrying Collins +the day before; had been in the office a number of +times and was sweatingly anxious about something."</p> + +<p>Gantry flung his cigarette away and lighted another. +After a deep inhalation or two he said: "Let +it alone, Evan. I have a hunch that you'll be happier +if you don't try to drag the cover off of that +particular cesspool."</p> + +<p>"Listen," said Blount shortly. "When my father +turned me down last night I told him that I still +had five days in which to—"</p> + +<p>"I know," Gantry nodded. "Just the same, +you're not going to do it."</p> + +<p>"If I don't, it will be because I can't; because +the time is too short." Then, with a sudden and +impulsive gesture of appeal: "Dick, for Heaven's +sake help me to find that man Gryson, if you know +where he is! I shall blow up if I can't do something!"</p> + +<p>Gantry rose and tossed the second cigare<a name="Page_380" id="Page_380"></a>tte among +the coals in the grate.</p> + +<p>"I've been afraid all along that they'd corner you +and beat you to death with feather-dusters," he lamented. +"And the only thing I can say will make +matters worse instead of better. I have it pretty +straight that Gryson has been fired—shooed out of +town, and probably out of the State."</p> + +<p>"Who did it, Gantry?"</p> + +<p>"There is only one man in this bailiwick who can +take the whip to a fellow like Tom Gryson. I guess +I don't need to name him for you, Evan."</p> + +<p>Blount got out of his chair and stood with his +back to the fire, and his face was white.</p> + +<p>"Good God! the rottenness of it, Dick!" he +groaned. And then: "I've got to get out of this +and begin all over again in some corner of the world +where at least one man in ten hasn't forgotten the +meaning of common honesty and decency and fair +dealing. Heaven knows I'm no saint, but if I stay +here this cursed crookedness will get into my blood +and I'll be just as degraded as the worst of them. +No, I'm not raving; there have been times when +I've felt myself slipping—times when I've been +tempted to get down and fight with the weapons +that everybody <a name="Page_381" id="Page_381"></a>fights with in this God-forsaken, +law-breaking, graft-ridden commonwealth!"</p> + +<p>Gantry had risen and he was slowly shaking his +head.</p> + +<p>"You're hot now—and with good enough cause, +I guess. But that sort of a temperature makes a +man near-sighted and color-blind. Human nature +is pretty much the same the world over, Evan, and +if you could see beyond the crookedness you'd find +a lot of good people out here, averaging about the +same as the decent majority anywhere. It's an inarticulate +majority generally; it doesn't stand up +on its hind legs and rear around and call attention +to itself—couldn't if it should try. But it's here +and there and everywhere in America, just the +same. A railroad car with one drunken fool in it +gives you the idea. You focus on him and say, +'What a beastly shame!' and you entirely overlook +the other fifty-odd people in the car who are quietly +minding their own business."</p> + +<p>Blount's smile was for the man rather than for +the theory.</p> + +<p>"You are an implacable optimist, Dick, and you +always have been," he returned. "Your theory is +good humanitarianism, and I wish I could accept +it as applying to this abandoned community out +here in my native hills; but I can't. Let's go back +<a name="Page_382" id="Page_382"></a>to the others. We've established a sort of family +<i>modus vivendi</i>, my father and I, and I don't want +him to think that I'm breaking it by plotting with +you."</p> + +<p>It was while the evening was still measurably +young that Blount made his excuses to his hostess +and got away, fondly believing that he was escaping +without attracting the attention of the small +lady who was deep in a political discussion with +candidate Gordon at the critical moment. He was +mistaken, but the escape was not interrupted. At +the curb the Blount touring-car was waiting, with +two others, and for an instant Blount hesitated, +half inclined to ask his father's chauffeur, to drive +him down-town. On such inconsequent pivots fate, +or accident, twirls the most momentous affairs of +life. If Blount had taken the car he would have +been driven directly to the hotel. As it was, he +walked, and in passing the Temple Court Building +he remembered that he had not seen his mail since +early morning.</p> + +<p>Rousing the sleepy boy in charge of the all-night +elevator, he had himself lifted to his office floor. +The upper corridor was dimly lighted, and on leaving +the car he went directly to the door of his private +room, walking swiftly and neither seeing nor hearing +a man who, materializing mysteriously out of +the corridor shadows, followed him step by step.</p><p><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383"></a></p> + +<p>In the office Blount snapped the lights on and +turned to unlock his desk. As the key clicked in the +lock the sixth sense, which is perhaps only a mingling +of the subtler essences of the other five, warned +him sharply, and he wheeled to face the door which +had been left on the latch. As he looked, the door +opened silently and the materializing shadow, haggard +of face and with bloodshot eyes mirroring blind +rage and the terror of a cornered rat, slipped into the +room and stood warily aside out of the direct light +from the electric chandelier. Blount looked again +and swore softly. The dodging intruder was the +man Thomas Gryson.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII</h2> + +<h3>THE ICONOCLAST</h3> + + +<p>It is a threadbare saying that the environment +moulds the man. Yet, much more than the philosophers +have contended, there are chameleon tendencies +in the strongest character, and one finely determining +to coerce his surroundings is quite likely to +end by realizing that the surroundings have appealed +to unsuspected color-changings in himself. Thus it +may chance that the fairest fighter, finding himself +sufficiently kicked and cuffed in the rough-and-tumble, +will discover how facilely easy it is to descend +to the level of his antagonists, and from this +discovery to the awakening of the re<a name="Page_384" id="Page_384"></a>morseless passion +for success at any price is but a step, long or +short according to the exigencies of the struggle.</p> + +<p>Checked in his luggage, if not precisely pinned +openly upon his sleeve, Blount had brought with +him from the scholastic banks of the Charles a +choice assortment of ideals, which are things precious +only as they can be preserved inviolate. But +for weeks, endless weeks as they seemed to him in the +retrospect, he had been rubbing shoulders with a +crude world which appeared to care little for ideals +and less for the man who upheld them. Inevitably, +as he had admitted to Gantry, the change was +wrought, or working; the exclamation springing to +his lips when he recognized Gryson evinced it, and +when he beckoned the shifty intruder to the chair +at the desk end the ruthless <i>zeitgeist</i> had taken full +possession of him, and the thought uppermost had +grown suddenly indifferent to the means if by their +employment the end might be gained.</p> + +<p>"Come over here and sit down," he commanded; +then, seeing that Gryson hesitated and flung a glance +over his shoulder at the door: "What are you afraid +of?"</p> + +<p>"They've got my number," said the ward-heeler, +in a convict whisper which was little more than a +facial contortion. "There's a couple o' bulls waitin' +f'r me down on the sidewalk."</p> +<p><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385"></a></p> +<p>Blount crossed the room, shut the door and locked +it. Then he went back to the self-confessed fugitive.</p> + +<p>"You're safe for the time being," he told the man. +"Now talk fast and talk straight. What do you +want this time?"</p> + +<p>Gryson hammered the arm of his chair with his +fist and babbled profanity. When he became coherent +he told his story, or rather Blount got it out +of him piecemeal, of how he had been employed by +the "organization" to falsify the registration lists +in certain districts; of how, when the work was +done, he had been denied the price and driven out +with cursings. In the accusation, which was shot +through with tremulous imprecations, the "organization" +and the railroad company were implicated +as if they were one. In one breath the fugitive +charged the "double-crossing" to Kittredge, and in +the next he accused the "big boss" himself, of having +passed the sentence of deportation.</p> + +<p>"You say you were driven out? How could they +drive you if you didn't want to go?" queried the +cross-examiner.</p> +<p><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386"></a></p> +<p>"That's on me: it was a job I pulled off two years +ago in another place—up north of this—and the +night-watchman got in the way when I was leavin'. +They jerked that on me and showed me th' rope. +They had me by th' neck, with th' word passed to +Chief Robertson. I'm back here now wit' my life +in my hand, but I'd chance it twice over to get square +wit' them welshers that have bawled me out!"</p> + +<p>"Why have you come to me?" asked Blount +briefly.</p> + +<p>"Gawd knows; I took a chance again. I've +heard your speeches, and says I, 'There's your wan +chance, cully,' and I'm here to grab f'r it. If you've +been meanin' the half of what you've been sayin', +Mr. Blount—" There was more of it, half pleadings +and half mere rageful babblings of a vengeful soul +hampered by the tongue of inadequacy.</p> + +<p>Blount left his chair and began to pace the floor, +with Gryson watching him furtively. At any time +earlier in the struggle the thought of using this +wretched time-server as a means to any end, however +desirable and just, would have been nauseating. +True, if there could be any such thing as honor +among thieves, the man had earned the price of his +crooked work among the registration clerks; but f<a name="Page_387" id="Page_387"></a>or +another man to profit by the broken bargain, and +by the confessed criminal's rage and lust for vengeance, +was a thing to make even a hard-pressed +loser in an unequal battle hesitate.</p> + +<p>The hesitation was only momentary. With a +gesture which was more expressive than many words, +Blount turned short upon the furtive watcher in the +chair at the desk end.</p> + +<p>"What do you want me to do?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"You're on before I could stall it f'r you. You've +been swearin' you'd back th' square deal to th' limit; +it ain't square; it's crooked as hell. Grab f'r this +knife I'm handin' you and cut the heart out o' these +welshin' bosses that are givin' you th' double-cross +the same as they're givin' it to me. You're the +on'y man that can do it; the on'y man on Gawd's +<a name="Page_388" id="Page_388"></a>green earth they're afraid of. I know it damn' well. +That's why they handed my number to th' chief +and passed th' word to have me pinched. They was +afraid I'd come here and squeal to you!"</p> + +<p>Blount stopped him with an impatient gesture. +"Let that part of it rest and get down to business. +What you have been telling me may be true, but I +can't do anything on your bare word—the word of a +man who is dodging the police. You've got to bring +me proofs in black and white; lists of the faked +names, and a straight-out give-away of how they +are to be used; names and dates, and a written story +of your bargainings with the men higher up. This +is Thursday; to be of any use, these documents +would have to be in my hands by Saturday noon, +at the latest. You know best whether the thing +can be done in time—or done at all. What do you +say?"</p> + +<p>For a little time Gryson said nothing. When he +spoke it was evident that the lust for vengeance and +a guilty conscience were fighting an even-handed +battle.</p><p><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389"></a></p> + +<p>"I could get the affidavits—maybe," he said. +"There's a dozen 'r more of the cullies down-along +got their notice to fade away when I got mine, and +they'd jump at th' chance to get back at the bosses. +But f'r Gawd's sake, look at what it means to me! +Anny minute I'm on the job I'd be lookin' to see +some bull with a star on 'im holdin' a gun on me; +and after that, it's this f'r mine"—with a jerk of +the head and a pantomimic gesture simulating the +hangman's knot under his ear.</p> + +<p>"That is your risk," said Blount coldly, making +this small concession to the expiring sense of +uprightness. "You know how badly you want to 'get +square,' as you put it, and I am interested only in +the results. If you get caught, I sha'n't turn my +hand over to help you—you can take that straight. +But if you show up here with the proofs, proofs that +I can use, any time before Saturday night, I'll +undertake to see that you get safely out of the +State."</p> + +<p>It was in the little pause which followed that +some one in the corridor rapped smartly on the locked +door. At the sound, Gryson collapsed and his face +became an ashen mask of fear. Blount, the law-abiding, +might have hesitated, but this newer Blount +had <a name="Page_390" id="Page_390"></a>slain his scruples. Snatching Gryson out of his +chair, he thrust him silently through the half-open +door of the work-room, and a moment later he was +answering the rap at the corridor entrance, opening +the door and calmly facing the two policemen on the +threshold.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said brusquely.</p> + +<p>One of the men touched his helmet.</p> + +<p>"We're looking for a felly that ducked in below +a couple of hours ago, Mr. Blount. He's in the +building, somewheres, and your office being lighted, +we thought maybe you'd—"</p> + +<p>Blount threw the door wide.</p> + +<p>"You can see for yourselves," he said. "Would +you like to come in and look around?"</p> + +<p>"Sure not; your word's as good as the search, +Mr. Blount. 'Twas only on the chance that he +might have faked an excuse and ducked in on you +to be out of reach."</p><p><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391"></a></p> + +<p>Blount left the door open and went to get his +coat and hat.</p> + +<p>"Who is the man?" he asked, while the officers +lingered.</p> + +<p>"A felly named Gryson. He's been working in +the railroad shops what times he wasn't pullin' off +something crooked in the p'litical line."</p> + +<p>"What is he wanted for?" Blount was closing his +desk and preparing to leave the office.</p> + +<p>"Croaking a bank watchman up in Montana afther +he'd souped the vault door for a kick-shot."</p> + +<p>"In that case, perhaps I'm lucky that he didn't +drop in and croak me," laughed Blount, turning off +the lights and joining the two men in the corridor. +And then: "There is a back stair to the engine-room +in the basement in the other wing of the +building: have you been watching that?"</p> + +<p>The bigger of the two policemen prodded the other +in the ribs with his night-stick. "That's on us, +Jakey. He'll have been gone hours ago. Let's be +drilling. 'Tis a fine mind ye have, Mr. Blount, to +<a name="Page_392" id="Page_392"></a>be thinking of thim back stairs right off the bat." +And the pair went down in the elevator with Blount, +chuckling to themselves at their own discomfiture.</p> + +<p>Having set his hand to the plough, Blount did nothing +carelessly. Sauntering slowly, and even pausing +to light a cigar, he trailed the two policemen until +they were safely in another street. Then he turned +back to the great office building and once more had +himself lifted to the upper floor. In the office +corridor he waited until the car had dropped out of +sight; waited still longer to give the drowsy night-boy +time to settle himself on his stool and go to +sleep. Then he went swiftly to the door of the +private room and unlocked it.</p> + +<p>Gryson was ready, and even in the dim light of +the corridor Blount could see that he was white-faced +and trembling. In the silent faring to the +stair which wound down in a spiral around the +freight elevator Blount gripped the arm of trembling.</p> + +<p>"You've got to get your nerve," he gritted savagely, +"or you'll be nipped before you've gone a +block!" And then: "Here's the stair: follow it +down until you get to the basement. There's a coal +entrance from the alley, and the engineer will be +with his boilers in the other wing—and probably +asleep. You've got it straight, have you? You're +to bring the papers to my office on or before Saturday +night. I'll be looking out for you, and if you +bring me the evidence, you'll be taken care of. +That's all. Down with you, now, and go quietly. +<a name="Page_393" id="Page_393"></a>If you're caught, I drop you like a hot nail; +remember that."</p> + +<p>Still puffing at the cigar which glowed redly in the +darkness of the wing corridor, Blount waited until +his man had been given time to reach the basement. +Then he walked slowly back to the main corridor +and descended by the public stair without awakening +the elevator boy, who was sleeping soundly in his +car on the ground level.</p> + +<p>On the short walk to the hotel the full significance +of the thing he had done had its innings. Cynical +criticism to the contrary notwithstanding, there is +now and then an honest lawyer who regards his oath +of admission to the bar—the oath which binds him +to uphold the cause of justice and fair dealing—as +something more than a mere form of words. Beyond +all question, an honest man who has sworn to uphold +the law may neither connive at crime nor shield +a criminal. Blount tried the shift of every man +who has ever stepped aside out of the plain path +of rectitude; he told himself morosely that he had +nothing to do with Gryson's past; that he had taken +no retainer from the Montana authorities; that the +criminal was merely a cog in a wheel which was +grinding toward a righteous end, and as such should +be permitted to serve his turn.</p> + +<p>The well-worn argument is always specious to the +beginner, and Blount thought he had sufficiently +justified himself by the time he was pushing through +the revolving doors into the Inter-Mountain lobby. +But when he saw his father quietly smoking his bed-time +<a name="Page_394" id="Page_394"></a>cigar in one of the big leather-covered lounging-chairs, +he realized that the first step had been taken +in an exceedingly thorny path; that whatever else +might be the outcome of the bargain with Thomas +Gryson, a son was coldly plotting to bring disgrace +and humiliation upon a father.</p> + +<p>For this reason, and because, when all is said, +blood is much thicker than water, Blount made as +if he did not see the beckoning hand-wave from the +depths of the big chair in the smokers' alcove; +ignored it, and with set lips and burning eyes made +for the nearest elevator to take refuge in his room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2> + +<h3>A CRY IN THE NIGHT.</h3> + + +<p>With the critical election, a struggle which was to +decide for another two-year period whether or not +the people of the Sage-Brush State were to be the +masters or the servants of chartered monopoly, only +four days distant, the capital city took on the +aspect of a stirring camp—two rival camps, in fact, +since the State headquarters of the two chief parties +were in the Inter-Mountain Hotel—and each<a name="Page_395" id="Page_395"></a> +incoming train brought fresh relays of henchmen +and district spellbinders to swell the sidewalk throngs +and to crowd the lobbies.</p> + +<p>On the Friday morning Blount awoke with the +feeling that he had definitely cut himself off from +all the commonplace activities of the campaign. +There were two days of suspense to be outworn, +and if he could have compassed it he would have +been glad to efface himself completely. Since that +was impossible, and since it seemed equally impossible +that he should go on keeping up the farce of +the <i>modus vivendi</i> after he had taken the step which +would presently blazon his name to the world as +that of his father's accuser, he bought the morning +papers hurriedly at the hotel news-stand and went +down the avenue to get his breakfast at the railroad +restaurant, where he would be measurably sure of +isolation.</p> + +<p>After giving his order he ran hastily through the +local news in the papers. There was no mention of +the arrest of one Thomas Gryson in any of the police +notes, and he breathed freer. But in <i>The Plainsman</i> +there was an editorial which was vaguely disturbing. +Blenkinsop, who wrote his own leaders, +hinted pointedly at coming disclosures which would +change the political map of the State for all time. +Blount, trying to determine how much or how little +the editorial was based upon his talk with the editor +on the Wednesday night, found his omelet tasteless. +Ready enough, as he was persuaded, to fire +the disrupting mine with his own hand, he was not +ready to surrender the match to any one else. Manifestly +he must see Blenkinsop and caution him.</p> + +<p>Breakfast over, he walked, by the longest way +<a name="Page_396" id="Page_396"></a>around, to his office in the Temple Court, hoping to +find work which would help him through the forenoon. +It was an idle hope. From a State-wide +shower of political correspondence the daily mail +had dropped suddenly to an inconsequential drizzle, +and there were no callers. Here, again, he saw, or +thought he saw, the all-powerful hand of the +machine. He had been used for a purpose, the purpose +of hoodwinking and deceiving the voters. +That purpose having been served, he was to be +dropped—was already dropped, as it seemed. By +noon the sheer time-killing effort became blankly +unbearable, and in desperation he broke with another +of the ideals—the one labelled sincerity—and +going boldly to the Inter-Mountain he waited in +the lobby for the family party of three to come +down to the one-o'clock luncheon in the public +<i>café</i>.</p> + +<p>Joining the party when it came down, he found it +difficult only in the inner sanctuaries to maintain +the <i>status quo ante</i> Gryson. There was no shadow +of suspicion or coolness in his father's kindly smile +and genial greeting, and Mrs. Honoria rallied him +playfully upon the narrow margin by which he had +held his own and Patricia's places at the Gordon +dinner-table the night before. Only in Patricia's +eyes he read a curious questioning, a hint that +they were finding something in his eyes which was +<a name="Page_397" id="Page_397"></a>new and not wholly understandable. He knew well +enough what it was that she saw; and though she +was sitting opposite him at the table for four, he +looked at her as seldom as possible, devoting himself, +for once in a way, resolutely to his father's wife.</p> + +<p>After luncheon he again fell back upon the dogged +boldness. Unable to contemplate a second plunge +into the solitude of the Temple Court offices, he +asked and was accorded permission to take Patricia +for a country drive in the little car. When the city +was left behind, and the small machine was purring +steadily northwestward over a road which led to +nowhere in particular, Blount put his finger accurately +upon the thing which had been building little +barriers of silence between them all the way out +from town.</p> + +<p>"You knew me well enough yesterday to be reasonably +certain of what I would do in given circumstances, +didn't you, Patricia?" he began abruptly. +"To-day you are not so sure about it. Why?"</p> + +<p>She laughed lightly, but there was a serious undernote +in her voic<a name="Page_398" id="Page_398"></a>e when she said: "There are moments +when you make me wonder if you haven't +been dabbling in necromancy, Evan. I was at that +very instant telling myself that it wasn't so."</p> + +<p>"But you know it is so," he persisted. "Why am +I different?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Yet you recognize the fact?"</p> + +<p>"Is it a fact?" she queried.</p> +<p><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399"></a></p> +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"In what way are you different?"</p> + +<p>"I am not altogether certain that I know, myself. +But I do know this: between yesterday and to-day +there is a gulf so wide that it seems measureless. +The scientists claim there are no cataclysms; no +sudden and sweeping changes taking place either in +the physical or the metaphysical field. If that be +true, the changes must go on subconsciously for a +long time before they are recognized. There is no +other way of accounting for the gulfs."</p> + +<p>"You are talking miles over my head," she protested; +and, though the assertion was not strictly +true, it served its purpose.</p> + +<p>"I can make it a little plainer," he went on, slowing +the motor until the small car was merely ambling. +"You remember that night at Wartrace +Hall, and what you told me? I went out from that +talk resolved to do what you had shown me I ought +to do, stubbornly refusing to consider the possibility +of failure. None the less, I have failed."</p> +<p><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400"></a></p> +<p>"Oh, no!" she exclaimed; "not that!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, just that. But the failure is not the worst +thing that has befallen me. I have lost or gained +something that pushes the yesterdays into a past +which can never be recovered. Let me tell you, +girl: I have been fighting in the open, against treachery +and deceit fighting always under cover. I have +been fighting bare-handed where others were armed. +Day by day I have been finding out the baseness +and the trickery; how my own side has used me as +a screen behind which the old dishonorable expedients +could be safely planned and carried out. I never +knew until within the past two days what all this +chicanery and double-dealing might be doing to me, +but now I do know."</p> + +<p>"Will it bear telling?" she asked quietly.</p> + +<p>"I think not—to you," he returned, matching her +low tone. "Let it be enough to say that I am no +longer the man I was when I came out here. Patricia, +I'm not fighting bare-handed any more; I'm +smashing in with any weapon I can get hold of. +There will be no such reform as the one you urged +me to champion—as the era of fair-dealing and sincerity +which I have been trying honestly and earnestly +<a name="Page_401" id="Page_401"></a>to inaugurate. Nevertheless, if my hand +doesn't tremble too much at the critical moment, +there will be, on the morning of next Tuesday, such +a revolution as this commonwealth has never seen. +Though they have robbed me and made a puppet +of me, I can still bring it about."</p> + +<p>He had gone farther than he meant to, and he +thought she would protest. He knew that her convictions +of what should be and what should not be +were clear-cut and definite. But a man, even though +he be a lover, may know a woman's mind without +knowing very much about the woman herself. +There was no protest forthcoming. Quite the contrary, +she answered him with a little shudder that +was almost a caress, saying: "I think you have +grown—bigger and stronger than I ever thought +you could grow, Evan; and I'm sure your hand +won't tremble. Is that what you want me to say?"</p> + +<p>Since there is no more contradictory being in a +sentient world than a man in love, Blount was not +quite sure that it was what he wanted her to say. +By times, to any lover worthy of the name, the +chosen woman figures as a goddess, a tutelary divinity +postulating for a mere earthly man all that is +high and holy and inerrant; an impeccable standard +by which he can measure his own baser desires and +ambitions and be shrived of them. At other times +the straitly human has its inn<a name="Page_402" id="Page_402"></a>ings, and the longing +is for a comrade, a companion, a second self buried, +lost, submerged in the loyalty which never questions. +Having come slowly to maturity as a lover, +Blount had been leaning toward the divinity definition +of Patricia Anners. But now the iconoclastic +change was breaking many images.</p> + +<p>"You are willing to believe that I haven't gone +altogether backward?" he queried, after the little +car had measured an additional stretch of the mesa +road.</p> + +<p>"You are bigger and stronger," she repeated.</p> + +<p>"How do you know I am?"</p> + +<p>"I can tell; any woman could tell."</p> + +<p>"Is the acquirement of size and strength so great +a thing that—"</p> + +<p>"I think it is—in a woman's eyes," she admitted +fearlessly. "We are all more or less primitive and—and, +well, 'Stone-Agey,' let us say, in the last +analysis; at least, women are." And then: "You +don't know women very well, Evan."</p> + +<p>"Don't I?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403"></a>"No, you don't. You judge us by standards +which have no existence outside of your own purely +masculine deductions. For example: I suppose you +wouldn't admit for a moment that a good woman +might properly do things which would be entirely +discreditable in a man?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head slowly and said: "Yesterday, +or the day before, I might have said 'no,' with all +the cocksureness of a boy of twenty. To-day I can +only say: 'Who am I, that I should judge any man—or +any woman?'" Then suddenly: "You are +making excuses for my father's wife. You needn't, +you know. She has fought me from the beginning, +and I know it. Sometimes I think that she is solely +responsible for my failure to accomplish the thing +I had set my heart upon. Let it go; I don't bear +malice. Just now I'm more interested in what you +were saying about the sex differences and the woman's +point of view. Have you been calling me a +weak man, Patricia?"</p> + +<p>"No; only—a little—conventional," she returned +half reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"But you are the quintessence of conventionality +yourself!" he burst out.</p> + +<p>"Am I? Perhaps that was a passing phase, too. +Quite probably the little things will remain—the +dressing for dinner and the paying of party c<a name="Page_404" id="Page_404"></a>alls +and all that. But one really big man has made +many things seem petty and trifling—things that I +used to think were of the greatest possible importance."</p> + +<p>"My father, you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. If I should ever marry, Evan, I should +be deliriously happy if I could find a man who +promised to grow to the stature of your father."</p> + +<p>There was manifestly no rejoinder to be made to +this by David Blount's son, though it pointed to +another and still more painful involvement. What +would Patricia say when the <i>débâcle</i> came? Would +she lose faith in his father, and in all masculinity, +in the crash? Or would she borrow yet again from +the primitive woman she had been half-acknowledging +and still be loyal? In either case Blount saw +his own finish, and he was rather relieved when she +left the sex argument indeterminate and began to +talk of other things: of her father's decision to go +home at the end of the following week, of the good +times she had been having, and of the regret with +which she would turn her back upon the wide horizons +and the freedom of it all.</p> + +<p>"I brought my shell with me when I came," she +confessed, laughing, "but I think it is broken into +little pieces by now. You will know how small the +pieces ar<a name="Page_405" id="Page_405"></a>e when I tell you that 'Tennessee Jim,' +your father's horse wrangler, calls me 'Miz' Pat,' and +it always makes me want to shake hands with him."</p> + +<p>Blount made the afternoon last as he could, sending +the little car over many miles of the mesa roads +and encouraging the small confidences which were +enabling him to postpone his own evil hour. When +the sun was dipping toward the Carnadine Hills +they returned over a trail which came into the main +Quaretaro road at a point where the northern highway +begins its descent to the lower mesa level. +Half-way down the descending gulch they came to +the mouth of a small lateral canyon breaking into +the larger gorge from the eastward; a canyon dry +for the greater part of the year, but in the rainy +season affording an outlet for the flood-waters of +the Little Shonoho.</p> + +<p>"That is a road I have always wanted to explore," +said Patricia, pointing to the fine driveway leading +up the small canyon. "That is one of my weaknesses +when I am driving; I am never able to pass +a branch road without wanting to turn aside and +explore it."</p> + +<p>"Then we'll explore this one, right now," said +Blount, cutting the car to the left. He was mor<a name="Page_406" id="Page_406"></a>e +than willing to delay, even by littles, the moment +when he should be obliged to resume the sorry business +of waiting and dissembling.</p> + +<p>Miss Anners glanced at the tiny watch pinned +upon her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Shall we have time? It's getting late."</p> + +<p>"Plenty of time for all we shall be able to do or +see up here," Blount returned. "The road ends at +the canyon head, a mile above. There is a very +small and very exclusive summer-resort hotel, called +the Shonoho Inn, on the upper level. It has a six-weeks' +season—like the Florida resorts—they tell me, +and it is closed now."</p> + +<p>It was within the next five hundred yards that +the prediction that there would be nothing to see +anticipated its fulfilment. At a sudden turn in the +narrow defile they came to a brush-built barricade +posted with a sign:</p> + +<p><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407"></a></p> +<div class="blockquot"><p>ROAD WASHED OUT ABOVE<br /> +NO PASSING FOR VEHICLES!</p></div> + +<p>"That settles it," said Blount shortly, and he +turned the car and let it roll back down the grade +to the main gulch.</p> + +<p>When they were once more speeding toward town +Blount stole a glance at his companion, wondering +if it were the small disappointment which made her +silent.</p> + +<p>"Are you tired?" he asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," she rejoined, brightening again. "I +have enjoyed every minute of it. I was just thinking +of what I said a little while ago; of how it is +going to break my heart to leave it all."</p> + +<p>It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that she +needn't leave it. But he remembered and caught +himself sharply. When the dreadful Tuesday should +have come and gone, she might be only too willing +to go away; and, in any event, he would have to +go. There would be no place in his own and his +father's State for him after Gryson returned, and +the match had been touched to the hidden mine of +high explosives. This was what wa<a name="Page_408" id="Page_408"></a>s in his mind +when he said rather tamely: "I suppose you will +have to go. There isn't any chance for social-settlement +work out here yet."</p> + +<p>"No," she responded half-absently; and thereupon +he gave the little car still more spark and +throttle and sent it flying over the final stretch of +the fine road to the city.</p> + +<p>The electric lights were showing like faint yellow +stars against the sunset sky when Blount skilfully +placed the small car at the Inter-Mountain curb +and lifted his companion to the sidewalk</p> + +<p>"Are you going anywhere to-night?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," was the reply. "There is a +'crush' on at the Weatherfords', but I don't know +whether Mrs. Blount has accepted for us or not."</p> + +<p>"Don't go," he pleaded quickly. "Back out of +it some way, and give me just this one evening to +myself. Won't you do that, Patricia?"</p> + +<p>"I'll try," she agreed. "But if Mrs. Blount has +accepted—"</p> + +<p>"Confound Mrs. Blount!" he growled. And then<a name="Page_409" id="Page_409"></a> +the newly aroused underman in him added: "You +tell her that I want you to give me the evening, and +let that settle it."</p> + +<p>As it turned out a little later, Miss Anners found +it unnecessary to be rude to her hostess. For some +reason best known to herself, Mrs. Honoria had declined +the invitation—engraved in the correctest +shaded Old English and made to include the senator +and Miss Anners—and was planning a free evening +for herself and her guest.</p> + +<p>After the <i>café</i> dinner—a dinner at which Evan +Blount, once more calling himself all the hard names +in the hypocrite's vocabulary, made the fourth—Mrs. +Honoria proposed an adjournment to the hotel +parlors, which were in the mezzanine lounge. Later, +she found herself alone on the divan which had been +drawn up to command a view of the spirited scene +in the lobby below. The senator had gone down +to mingle with the politicians, and she could see +him—big, masterful, and smiling—moving about +from group to group. On the opposite side of the +mezzanine gallery, Evan and Patricia were "doing +time," as the little lady musingly phrased it: walking +up and down and talking quietly; a handsome +couple, as the approving glances of more than one +passing guest testified.</p> + +<p>To Mrs. Honoria, thus isolated, came at the appointed +time the sober-eyed young traffic manager +<a name="Page_410" id="Page_410"></a>for the railroad company. Gantry had been under +orders from the little lady for the better part of +the afternoon, but the business of the day had +given him no chance to report earlier.</p> + +<p>"You got my note?" he asked, taking the place +she made for him on the tête-à-tête divan.</p> + +<p>"Yes; a little while before dinner. It came just +in time to let me send frightfully late 'regrets' to +Mrs. Weatherford."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't come sooner. I've had the Hathaway +crowd on my hands all afternoon. There is something +in the wind, and those fellows are scared stiff. +They say that Evan's speech-making has stirred up +the working men and the rank and file like a declaration +of war with Mexico, and nobody can tell what +is going to happen next Tuesday."</p> + +<p>"Is that all?"</p> + +<p>"No, not quite all. There is a mild panic on in +at least three of the city wards over the disappearance +of a fellow named Gryson, a sort of—er—wire-puller +and all-around general-utility man. Some +say he has been doing crooked work and had to disappear; +others say that he has taken his pay for +whatever job he was doing and has skippe<a name="Page_411" id="Page_411"></a>d out, +leaving his journeymen strikers to hold the bag."</p> + +<p>"Gryson," said the little lady, her eyes narrowing; +"Gryson—the name is curiously familiar. He +is what you call a ward-worker, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>Gantry nodded. "Something of the sort, yes. +Evan calls him one of the 'pie-eaters,' and away +along early in the game they had a set-to in Evan's +office and Evan fired him; told him if he ever came +back he'd throw him out."</p> + +<p>Again Mrs. Honoria's fine eyes became reflective.</p> + +<p>"Richard," she said softly, "I'd give anything +in the world if I could know that Evan still feels +that way about Thomas Gryson."</p> + +<p>"Then you know the plug-ugly, do you?" said +Gantry.</p> + +<p>"I know of him. He is a criminal and a dangerous +man."</p> + +<p>"Well, he is out of it, I guess; he must be, if his +own running-mates can't find him."</p> + +<p>"Isn't Mr. Kittredge trying to find him, too?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. And I think Kittredge played it <a name="Page_412" id="Page_412"></a>rather +low down on the poor beggar. They had a deal of +some sort, and when Gryson put his price on the +job—"</p> + +<p>"I know," she interrupted. "Mr. Kittredge ought +to have paid him and let him go."</p> + +<p>Gantry's smile was a tribute to superior genius.</p> + +<p>"You've got me going," he said; "you always +have me going. With the election only three days +off, I can't tell yet what you and the senator are +trying to do."</p> + +<p>"The senator, at least, has never made any secret +of his object," she smiled back at him. "He +has told everybody that he is out for a clean sweep."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said Gantry; "but no man living +knows what he means by a 'clean sweep.' I'll bet +there are a hundred men down there in the lobby +right now who would give the best year out of their +lives to know. And they can't guess—they can't +begin to guess!"</p> + +<p>"Let us leave them to their gu<a name="Page_413" id="Page_413"></a>esses, while we go +back to the certainties," she suggested. "Did you +find out what I asked you to?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and I don't know whether I ought to tell +you or not. I'm still drawing my salary from the +railroad, you know."</p> + +<p>"And you are not sure that I am drawing mine?" +she laughed. "Don't you remember when Mr. McVickar +gave me this?" touching the little jewel-incrusted +watch on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember; also I remember that this +is the first time I have ever seen you wearing it." +And then: "I'd never try to bribe you in the wide, +wide world, Mrs. Blount."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"For two reasons: you are too much in love with +your husband; and, if you took a notion to fly the +track, a king's ransom wouldn't be big enough to +make you stay bribed."</p> + +<p>"I am flattered, I'm sure; but I'm still in the +dark about the thing you have come here to tell +me," she reminded him.</p><p><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414"></a></p> + +<p>"I presume you may as well know it, though I +can tell you that it has been kept the darkest kind +of a secret. Mr. McVickar came west to-day from +Bald Butte in a new gasolene unit-car which is supposed +to be making a trial trip over the road. The +car is supposed to have a bunch of the Chicago officials +on board, though not half a dozen men on this +division know that the vice-president is the only +official, and that the others are clerks and telegraphers."</p> + +<p>"Go on," said the small person quickly.</p> + +<p>"That gasolene special is lost. No station west +of Bald Butte has yet reported it. Strictly between +us two, it left the main line at the old disused track +leading out to the abandoned Shoshone mine workings. +There were autos to meet it at the mine, and +by this time Mr. McVickar is probably toasting his +feet before an open wood-fire in the Shonoho Inn."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Honoria leaned her two round arms on the +mezzanine rail, and looked long and earnestly down +upon the caucussing lobby throng. When she looked +up it was to say: "There are wires?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415"></a>"A full set of cut-ins. You can trust the big +boss for that. He is in touch with every corner +of the State, just the same as he would be if he +were here in his usual election headquarters in the +hotel."</p> + +<p>The small plotter became silent again, and when +she spoke she was smiling brightly.</p> + +<p>"You are a good boy, Richard, and you shall +<a name="Page_416" id="Page_416"></a>have your reward. And it is going to be something +that will make you happy, this time. Run away, +now, and let me have a little solitude. I want to +think."</p> + +<p>It was a full hour after Gantry's disappearance +that the senator came up-stairs, and Mrs. Honoria +beckoned to the pair on the opposite side of the +gallery.</p> + +<p>"It's bedtime," she said, when they came around +to her divan. And then, with a malicious little +grimace for Evan: "I've been counting, and I've +seen Patricia stifle three distinct and separate +yawns in the last five minutes. She has been up +every night since we came to town, and—"</p> + +<p>Left to himself, Blount sat watching the crowd +for a time, and then went to his room to read himself +to sleep. One of the two crucial days of suspense +was outworn, but there was another coming; +and after he had read for an hour he went to bed, +resolutely determined to get the rest necessary to +carry him through the dreaded Saturday. Sleep +came quickl<a name="Page_417" id="Page_417"></a>y when he had turned off the lights, but +it was merely a transition to a troubled dreamland +in which Patricia, Mrs. Honoria, Gryson, and Gantry +were weirdly confused. In the thick of it he +seemed to see the ward-heeler standing at his bedside +and beating furiously upon a huge Chinese +gong. When he sprang up and began to rub his +eyes, the room was lighted by a red glare, and the +dream-noise was translated into the rattling of wheels +and the clanging of alarm-gongs and cries of "Fire!" +in the avenue below.</p> + +<p>As a city dweller, Blount should have felt the +wall of the room, and, finding it still cool, should +have turned over and gone to sleep again. Instead, +he slipped out of bed and went to the window. One +glance showed him that the fire was in the business +district, either in or near the Temple Court +Building. That was enough to make him dress hurriedly +and hasten to the street, where he found a +handful of policemen trying ineffectually to keep a +clear pavement for the racing fire-trucks. Watching +his chance, Blount darted out to make the crossing. +He was half-way to the opposite curb when an +unwieldy hook-and-ladder truck, drawn by a pair +of magnificent grays, came lurching and plunging +down the side street upon which the hotel cornered.</p> + +<p>In front of the horses, and leaping and barking +at their heads in a frenzy of excitement, was a spotted +coach-dog—the truck squad's mascot. Blount was +within a few feet of the farther sidewalk, and was +well out of danger when the long truck slewed into +<a name="Page_418" id="Page_418"></a>the avenue. But at the passing instant the mascot +dog, leaping and whirling like a four-footed dervish, +sprang backward. Blount felt the catapulting shock +of a yielding body between his shoulders, heard a +yell from the truck-driver on his high seat, and went +plunging headlong to the curb. After which he felt +and heard no more.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2> + +<h3>FIELD HEADQUARTERS</h3> + + +<p>In the great world-battles of yesterday, or the +day before, the commanding general rode, with a +few chosen officers of his staff, to some near-by hill-top, +shell-swept and perilous, and with the help of +a pair of field-glasses and a corps of hard-riding +aides kept in touch as he could with the shifting +fortunes of his divisions and brigades. It would be +small credit to an up-to-date day of progress <a name="Page_419" id="Page_419"></a>and +invention if this were not all changed. The present-moment +commander-in-chief—warring, industrial, +or political—may sit, thanks to the Morses and the +Edisons, comfortably in office-coat and slippers, far +removed from the battle turmoil, directing his forces +with the pressure of a finger upon the appropriate +electric button, or in a few words dictated to the +human ear of a clicking telegraph-instrument.</p> + +<p>By all these adventitious aids Vice-President McVickar +was profiting on the Saturday morning following +the mysterious disappearance on the Friday +of the gasolene unit-car somewhere between Bald +Butte and the capital. The small resort hotel at +the head of Shonoho Canyon had been transformed +into a field headquarters. The hotel manager's +desk, wheeled out in front of a crackling wood-fire +in the ornate little lobby, was studded with its row +of electric call-buttons; a railroad dining-car crew +had taken possession of the kitchen; and the spacious +writing-and lounging-room, sacred, in the season, +to the guests of the exclusive hotel, housed a +ranking of glass-topped telegraph-tables and impromptu +desks—a work-room manned by a dozen +picked young men, with O'Brien, the vice-president's +private secretary, acting as the chief.</p> + +<p>Though the momentous Tuesday was still three +<a name="Page_420" id="Page_420"></a>days in the future, Mr. McVickar was actively at +work on the Saturday morning, gathering in the +loose ends and strengthening the railroad company's +defences. With his arm-chair drawn up to the borrowed +desk he was running rapidly through the telegrams +filtering in a steady shower from the crackling +sounders in the writing-room. When the situation +had begun to outline itself with something like coherence, +he pressed a call-button for O'Brien.</p> + +<p>"How about that wire to Detwiler at Ophir—any +reply yet?" was the rasping demand shot at +the secretary.</p> + +<p>"Nothing yet; no, sir."</p> + +<p>"Go after him again! There's a screw loose +among those miners! How about Hathaway? +Did you phone Twin Buttes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and Grogan, the mill time-keeper, answered. +He says Mr. Hathaway is in the capital +and something has gone wrong—he doesn't know +what."</p> + +<p>"Keep the wires hot until you can get hold of +Hathaway himself, and when you nail him, switch +him over to my phone. Any word from the irrigation +people at Natcho?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. They say that the farmers under the High +Line have been getting restive and forming associations. +Daniels was the man who talked to me, and +he says it's a Gordon movement, though the ranchmen +are trying to keep it quiet."</p> + +<p>"Take a message to Daniels!" snapped the vice-president; +and then, dictating: "'How would it do +to let it be known quietly that Gordon's election +means raise in price of water to High Line users?' +Send that, and sign it 'Committee of Safety.' Now +how about Kittredge? Did you get him?"</p> + +<p>"I did; he's driving out in his car, and he ought +to be here in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>As if to make O'Brien's word good, the roar of an +automobile came from the driveway, dominating +for the moment the chattering of the telegraph-instruments, +and a little later Kittredge came in, lifting +his goggles and wiping the road dust from his +closely clipped black beard.</p> + +<p>"That car of yours isn't what it might be, Kittredge," +was the vice-president's crusty greeting. +"You'd better get a faster one. Sit down, and let's +have it. How are things shaping up in the city?"</p> + +<p>The big superintendent sat down and found a +cigar in an inner pocket of his driving-coat.</p> + +<p>"We are holding our own, as far as anybody can +see," he returned.</p> + +<p>"That 'as far as anybody can see' is just your +weakness, Kittredge," said the chief testily. "What +we want—what we've got to have first, last, and all +the time—is the <i>fact</i>. Now see if you can answer +a few straight questions. What is the senator +doing?"</p> + +<p>"His wife has a young girl visiting her, and if the +Honorable Dave is doing anything more than to +show the two women a good time, I can't find it out."</p> + +<p>"There you go again! You say 'if.' It's your +business to know."</p> + +<p>Kittredge held his peace. Being designed by nature +for a heavy-weight ring-fighter, there were times +when he felt like taking off his coat to the vice-president.</p> + +<p>"Well?" prompted McVickar, when Kittredge +remained obstinately silent.</p> + +<p>"If I knew what sort of a deal you have made +with the senator—"</p> + +<p>"That cuts no figure. But let it go. What's +young Blount doing?"</p> + +<p>"He's out of it, good and plenty. He started to +go to the Sampson Block fire last night and was +knocked down by a hook-and-ladder truck. It's +a cracked skull, and Doc Dillon says he's safe to +stay in bed for a week or so."</p> + +<p>"H'm," said the chief reflectively. "That is almost +what you might call opportune, Kittredge. +The young fellow has done his work well, but there +was always the danger that he might overdo it. +In fact, there was a time, a week or two ago, when +I thought he would have to be called down and +given a lesson. Now then, how about that Gryson +business?"</p> + +<p>"It was just as you said: I had to take Tom by +the neck and get rid of him."</p> + +<p>"He did his work all right?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and came swaggering around for his pay. +I sized it up one side and down the other. He had +a pretty bad case of swelled head and tried to hold +me up for a bonus, hinting around about what he +could do if he wanted to throw the gaff into us. As +I say, I sized it up, and took snap judgment on him—pulled +the Montana racket and gave him twenty-four +hours' start of the police."</p> + +<p>The vice-president frowned and shook his head. +"You took a chance—a long chance, Kittredge! +Twenty-four hours gave him all the time he needed +to fall afoul of young Blount."</p> + +<p>The big superintendent grinned amiably.</p> + +<p>"The senator helped out on that," he explained.</p> + +<p>"The senator? How was that?"</p> + +<p>"It's the first time he has shown any part of his +hand to me in the entire campaign. About an hour +after I had shot Tom Gryson to pieces a note came +down from the Inter-Mountain, asking me to come +up. I didn't get to see the senator himself, but +Mrs. Blount gave me the dope. As a result, young +Blount got a hurry telegram from you, directing +him to go to Lewiston at once in that right-of-way +matter of Brodhead's. I gave him my car, and the +trip cost him the better part of two whole days."</p> + +<p>Again the vice-president shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Your methods are always pretty crude, Kittredge," +he commented. "You took another long +chance when you forged my name to a telegram +for as shrewd a young lawyer as Evan Blount. But +go on. You got Blount out of the way—then what?"</p> + +<p>"Then I went after Gryson again. The little +woman's hint hit the bull's-eye as true as a rifle bullet. +Tom meant to give us away to Blount. He +haunted Blount's up-town office the better part of +the day; and finally, in sheer self-defence, I had +to tip him off to the police, as I had threatened +to. Another little mystery bobbed up there. Chief +Robertson winked one eye at me and said: 'You're +too late, Mr. Kittredge; your man has already been +piped off and he's gone.'"</p> + +<p>"Who did it?" snapped McVickar.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, and Robertson wouldn't tell me. +But I got him to promise to put out the reward +quietly. If Gryson comes back he'll be nipped before +he can talk."</p> + +<p>"With young Blount laid up, it won't make much +difference," was the summing-up rejoinder. And +then: "I think that is all—for this morning. Go +around to the telephone-exchange when you get +back to town and tell the manager that I want a +special operator—a man, if he's got one—put on +this long-distance wire. Have you sent your linemen +out to guard the wires on the Shoshone mine +track?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; all the way from the switch to the hills."</p> + +<p>"All right; that's all. Keep your finger on the +pulse of things in town to-day, and arrange with +your despatcher to give my operators here a clear +wire in any direction whenever it's called for. Above +all, keep me posted, Kittredge; don't let anything +get by you, no matter how trivial it may seem."</p> + +<p>As the superintendent was climbing into his car, +the railroad electrician who was in charge of the +men guarding the telegraph-wires came up.</p> + +<p>"One minute, Mr. Kittredge. I've put the box +in, according to orders—"</p> + +<p>"What box, and whose orders?"</p> + +<p>"The recording microphone in Mr. McVickar's +office, in there; and by his orders, I guess—at least +they came from one of his men. We're needing a +couple more batteries, and I was just wondering if +it'd be all right to take 'em from that gasolene +unit-car. We could put 'em back afterwards."</p> + +<p>"Yes; take 'em wherever you can find 'em," said +the superintendent, who was thinking pointedly of +other things just then; and the permission given, +he started his motor and drove away.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXV" id="XXV"></a>XXV</h2> + +<h3>BLOOD AND IRON</h3> + + +<p>Ten o'clock in the Saturday forenoon marked the +time of Superintendent Kittredge's flying visit to +his chief's headquarters-on-the-field at the head of +Shonoho Canyon; and at that hour Evan Blount, +blinking dizzily, and with his head bandaged and +throbbing as if the premier company of all the African +tom-tom symphonists were making free with it, +was letting Mrs. Honoria beat up his pillows and +prop him with them, so that the drum-beating clamor +might be minimized to some bearable degree.</p> + +<p>"You are feeling better now?" suggested the volunteer +nurse, going to adjust the window-curtains +for the better comfort of the blinking and aching +eyes.</p> + +<p>The victim of the hook-and-ladder squad's mascot +answered qualitatively.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if I had been having an argument with +a battering-ram and had come off second-best. I've +been out of my head, haven't I?"</p> + +<p>"A little, yes; but that was to be expected. You +were pretty badly hurt."</p> + +<p>"Have I been talking?"</p> + +<p>"Not very much—nothing intelligible." The little +lady had drawn her chair to the window and was +busying herself with the never-finished embroidery.</p> + +<p>"What hit me—was it the truck?"</p> + +<p>"No; some of the people in the street said it was +a dog; a coach-dog running and jumping at the +heads of the fire-horses. In falling you struck your +head against the iron grating of a sewer inlet."</p> + +<p>"Umph!" said Blount, and the face-wrinkling +which was meant to be a sardonic smile turned itself +into a painful grin. "Shot to death by a dog! +Blenkinsop or some of the others ought to have run +that for a head-line." Then, with a twist of the hot +eyeballs: "This isn't my room. Where am I?"</p> + +<p>"You are in the spare room of our suite. Your +father had you brought here so that we could take +care of you properly. But you mustn't talk too +much; it's the doctor's orders."</p> + +<p>Blount lay for a long time watching her as she +passed the needle in and out through the bit of +snowy linen stretched upon the tiny embroidery-ring. +She had fine eyes, he admitted; eyes with the +little downward curve in brow and lid at the outer +corners—the curve of allurement, he had heard it +called. Also, her hands were shapely and pretty. +He recalled the saying that a woman may keep her +age out of her face, but her hands will betray her. +Mrs. Honoria's hands were still young; they looked +almost as young as Patricia's, he decided. At the +comparison he broke over the rule of silence.</p> + +<p>"Does Patricia know?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. She has been here nearly all morning. She +wouldn't let anybody else hold your head while the +doctor was sewing it up."</p> + +<p>"I know," he returned; "that is a part of her—of +her special training: first aid to the injured, and +all that. They teach it in the German sociological +schools she attended last year."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I see"—with a malicious little smile +to accentuate the curving downdroop of the pretty +eyelids. "You mean that she was just getting a +bit of practice. I wondered why she was so willing; +most young women are so silly about the sight +of a little blood. Don't you think you'd better try +to sleep for a while? Doctor Dillon said it would +be good for you if you could."</p> + +<p>"Heavens and earth!" he chanted impatiently; +"I'm not sick!" And then, with a sharp fear stabbing +him: "What day is this, please?"</p> + +<p>She looked up with a smile. "Are you wondering if +you have lost a day? You haven't. The fire was at +three o'clock this morning, and this is Saturday."</p> + +<p>As if the naming of the day had been a spell to +strike him dumb, Blount shut his eyes and groped +helplessly for some hand-hold upon the suddenly rehabilitated +responsibilities. Saturday—the day when +Gryson would return with the proofs which, if they +were to serve any good end, must be given the widest +possible publicity in the two days remaining before +the election. Blount recalled his carefully laid plans: +he had intended giving Collins and the two record +clerks a half-holiday, so that Gryson might come +and go unnoticed. Also, he had meant to make a +definite appointment with Blenkinsop and the representative +of the United Press, to the end that there +might be no delay in the firing of the mine. Lastly, +Gryson must be shielded and gotten out of the city +in safety; so much the traitor had a right to demand if he +should risk his liberty and his life by +returning with the evidence.</p> + +<p>It was a hideous tangle to owe itself to the joyous +gambollings of the firemen's mascot dog. And +there was more to it than the hopeless smashing of +the Saturday's plans. Into the midst of the mordant +reflections, and adding a sting which was all +its own, came the thought of this newest obligation +laid upon him by his father and his father's wife. +They had taken him in and were loading him down +with kinsman gifts of care and loving-kindness, while +his purpose had been—must still be—to strike back +like a merciless enemy. He remembered the old +fable of the adder warmed to life in a man's bosom, +and it left him sick and nerveless.</p> + +<p>None the less, the obsession of the indomitable +purpose persisted, gripping him like the compelling +hand of a giant in whose grasp he was powerless. +For a time he sought to escape, not realizing that +the obsession was the call of the blood passed on +from the men of his race who, with axe and rifle, +had hewn and fought their way in the primeval wilderness, +and would not be denied. Neither did he +suspect that the dominating passion driving him on +was his best gift from the man against whom he was +pitting his strength. What he did presently realize +was that the giant grip of purpose was not to be +broken; and thereupon a vast cunning came to possess +him. He must have time and a chance to plan +again: if he should feign sleep, perhaps the woman +whose presence and personality were shackling the +inventive thought would go away and leave him +free to think.</p> + +<p>She did go after a while, though so noiselessly +that when he opened his eyes it was with the fear +that he should see her still bending over the little +embroidery frame at the window. Finding himself +alone, he sat up in bed and gave the broken head an +opportunity to blot him out if it could. For a little +space the walls of the room became as the interior +of a hollow peg-top, spinning furiously with a noise +like the rushing of many waters. After the surroundings +had resumed their normal figurings he +rose to his knees. There was another grapple with +the whirling peg-top, and again he mastered the +dizzying confusion. Made bold by success, he got +his feet on the floor and stood up, clinging to the +brass foot-rail of the bed until the unstable encompassments +had once more come to rest.</p> + +<p>By this time he was able to conquer all save the +throbbing headache. Shuffling first to one door +and then to the other, he shot the bolts against intrusion. +Then he staggered across to the dressing-case +and took a look at himself in the glass. The +bandaged head, with its haggard, pain-distorted face +grimacing back at him, extorted a grunt of sardonic +disapproval, but the mirror answered the query +which had sent him stumbling across to it. The +bandage was comparatively small and tightly drawn; +a soft hat could be worn over it—the hat would cover +and decently hide it.</p> + +<p>Next he found his clothes, those he had been +wearing at the time of the accident. Somebody had +been thoughtful enough to have them cleaned and +pressed; from which he argued that the plunging +fall on the wet asphalt had been demoralizing in +more ways than one. Continuing the experimental +venture, he walked back and forth and up and down +until he could do it without clutching at the bed-rails +to save himself from falling. Then he reshot +the door-bolts and went back to bed to await developments.</p> + +<p>The first of these came when Patricia brought his +luncheon. He had been wondering if she would be +the one to come; wondering and hoping. With the +unfilial purpose driving him on, there were added +twinges at the thought of his father's wife going on +piling the mountain of obligation higher and still +higher by waiting upon him, and thus reminding +him at every turn of the adder fable. With Patricia +it was different.</p> + +<p>"Good morning," he grimaced, when Patricia +came in with the daintily appointed server. "Getting +a bit more of the first-aid practice, are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am obeying orders," she flashed back, when +she had shaken up the pillows and placed the appetizing +meal within his reach. "Mrs. Blount said +I'd probably have a less disturbing influence upon +you than she would. Shall I feed you?"</p> + +<p>"Good heavens, no! I'm not that near dead, I +hope! If you don't believe it, you may sit down and +watch me eat—if you're not missing your own luncheon."</p> + +<p>"Nurses have no regular meal-times," she retorted. +And then: "You are feeling a great deal +better, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Much better—since you came. Did they tell +you it was a dog?"</p> + +<p>She nodded, and he went on.</p> + +<p>"It was my unlucky night, I guess. Did the fire +burn up my office? I forgot to ask Mrs. Blount +about that."</p> + +<p>"No; it was a building across the street from the +Temple Court."</p> + +<p>"'Small favors thankfully received,'" he quoted, +resolutely pushing a fresh recurrence of the tomtom +beatings into the background; "small favors +and larger ones in proportion—this broth, for example. +It's simply delicious. I hadn't realized how +hungry I was."</p> + +<p>"The broth ought to be good; I made it myself, +you know."</p> + +<p>"You did? Where, for pity's sake?"</p> + +<p>"In the hotel kitchen. The <i>chef</i> was furious +at first. He twirled his Napoleon-III mustaches +and sputtered and swelled up like an angry old +turkey. But when I talked nice to him in his +own beloved Bordelaise he let me do anything I +pleased."</p> + +<p>Blount looked up quickly, and the movement +brought the head-throbbings back with disconcerting +celerity.</p> + +<p>"You are cruelly kind to me, Patricia; everybody +is kind to me. And I'm not needing kindness just +now," he ended.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you? I don't agree with you, and I'm +sure your father and Mrs. Blount wouldn't." Then +she went on to tell him how they had all been up, +watching the progress of the fire from their windows, +when the word came that he had been hurt in the +street. Also, she told how his father had impatiently +smashed the telephone because, the wires having +been cut and tangled in the fire, he could get no response, +and how, thereupon, he had turned the entire +night force of the hotel out to go in search of a +doctor. "But with all that, he couldn't stand it to +look on while the doctor was taking the stitches," +she added. "He turned his back and tramped over +here to the window; and I could hear him gritting +his teeth and—and swearing."</p> + +<p>If Evan Blount ate faster than a sick man should, +it was because there are limits to the finest fortitude. +Patricia ran on cheerfully, minimizing her +own part in the first-aid incidents, and magnifying +the anxious and affectionate concern of the senator +and his wife. He listened because he could not +help it; but when he had finished, and she was +inquiring if there was anything else she could do +for him, he dissembled, saying that he would try +to sleep, and asking her to shut out more of the +daylight and to deny him to everybody until evening.</p> + +<p>She promised; but naturally enough, with the +dreadful responsibility drawing nearer with every +hour-striking of the tiny leather-cased travelling-clock +on the dresser, sleep was out of the question for him. +Hot-eyed and restless, he wore out the long afternoon +in feverish impatience, slipping now and then +into the shadow land of delirium when the pain was +severest, but clinging always to the obsessing idea. +At whatever cost, the crisis must find him resolute +to do his part. Gryson must be met, the evidence +of fraud must be secured, and the fraud itself must +be defeated.</p> + +<p>The bright autumn day was fading to its twilight, +and the shadows were gathering around his bed, +when Patricia tiptoed in to ask, first, if he were +awake, and, next, what he would like to have for +his supper. Exhausted by the waiting battle, he +answered briefly: he was not hungry; if he could +be left alone again, with the assurance that no one +would come to disturb him, it was all he would ask. +He tried to say it crustily, with the irritable impatience +of the convalescent—dissembling again. But +the young woman with a self-sacrificial career in +view had lost none of her womanly gift of sympathetic +intuition.</p> + +<p>"You are not so well this evening," she said softly, +laying a cool palm on his forehead. "I think I'd +better telephone Doctor Dillon."</p> + +<p>Now the thing for Patricia's lover to do was obvious. +With pity thus trembling on the very crumbling +brink of love, the opportunity which months of +patient wooing had not evoked lay ready to his hand. +It was a fair measure of the mastery an obsession +may obtain—the lover's ability to thrust the gentler +emotion into the background, to feign restless irritation +under the passion-stirring touch, and to say: +"No; I don't want Dillon or anybody; I want to +be left alone. Please latch the door when you go +out, and tell father and his—and Mrs. Blount that +I don't want to be disturbed."</p> + +<p>She took the curt dismissal in silence, and after +she was gone Blount sat up in bed and cursed himself +fervently and painstakingly for the little brutality. +But the remorseful cursings took nothing from +the grim determination which had prompted the +brutality. The dusk was thickening, and the street +electrics were turning the avenue into a broad highway +of radiance. Blount got up, and with a disheartening +renewal of the splitting headache, began +to dress, but there were many pauses in which he +had to sit on the edge of the bed to wait for the +throbbing pain to subside.</p> + +<p>The next step was to reach his own room, two +floors above, and he let himself cautiously into the +corridor and locked the door from the outside. +Making a long round to avoid the elevators, he +dragged himself up two flights of stairs and so came +to his goal.</p> + +<p>Enveloped in a rain-coat, and with a soft hat +drawn well over his eyes, he compassed the escape +from the upper floor by means of the remote stair +he had used in ascending, and so reached the +ground-floor. Fortunately, the lobby was crowded; +and turning up the collar of the rain-coat to hide +the bandage, Blount worked his way toward the +revolving doors. More than once in the dodging +progress he rubbed shoulders with men whom he +knew, and who knew him; but the shielding hat-brim +and the muffling rain-coat saved him.</p> + +<p>Reaching the street, he did not attempt to walk +to the Temple Court. Instead, he crept around to +a garage near the hotel and hired a two-seated +road-car. Quite naturally, the garage-keeper wanted +to send his own driver, and Blount counted it as an +unavoidable misfortune that he was obliged to give +his name, and to hear the motor-liveryman say: +"Oh, sure! I didn't recognize you, Mr. Blount. I +reckon Senator Dave's son can have anything o' +mine that he wants."</p> + +<p>Blount drove the road-car all the way around the +Capitol grounds to come into his office street inconspicuously. +Across from the Temple Court the fire +ruins were still smouldering, and there was an acrid +odor of stale smoke in the air. For a full third of +the block the street was littered with débris. Blount +stopped his machine at the nearest corner and got +out to reconnoitre the office-building entrance. In +the vestibule he glanced up at the face of the illuminated +wall-clock, making a hasty calculation based +upon the leaving time of the east-bound Overland. +There were fifty minutes to spare, and when he +reached his office, and had turned on the desk-light +and dropped heavily into his chair, he called +up the railroad station to inquire about the train. +The Overland was reported ten minutes late. If +Gryson should show up in time, this earliest outgoing +train must be made to serve as the means for +his flight.</p> + +<p>Blount had scarcely formulated the condition when +the office-door winged noiselessly, and the man himself, +hollow-eyed and haggard, stumbled in. As once +before, Blount got up and went to shut the door +and lock it. When he came back, Gryson had taken +his seat in a chair at the desk-end, where the light +from the shaded working-lamp fell upon his sinister +face.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've been all th' way t' hell and back ag'in," +he announced in a grating whisper. "They've put +th' reward out, and three times since last night some +of me own pals 've tried to snitch on me." Then +he drew a carefully wrapped package from its hiding-place +under his coat and laid it on the desk. "It's +all there," he went on in the same rasping undertone. +"Some of 'em give up to get square wit' th' +bosses, and some of 'em had to have a gun shoved +in their faces. No matter; they've come across—the +last damn' wan of 'em; and th' affidavits are +there, too—when I c'd get next to a dub of a not'ry +that'd make 'em."</p> + +<p>Blount did not untie the package, nor did he +cross-examine the traitor. His head was throbbing +again almost unbearably, and he was beginning to +fear that he might not last to carry out the plan of +safe-conduct for the informer. Slipping the precious +package into an inner pocket of the enveloping coat, +he took a compact roll of bank-bills from a drawer +in the desk and gave it to Gryson, saying tersely: +"That isn't a bribe, you understand; it's merely to +help you make your getaway. Can you manage +to ride on Transcontinental trains without being +recognized offhand?"</p> + +<p>Gryson pulled a false beard from his pocket and +showed it. "Wit' that, and me old hat, I've been +keepin' most o' th' boys from tippin' me off," he +said.</p> + +<p>"All right; here's the lay-out. You have earned +immunity, so far as this latest raid on you is concerned, +by turning State's evidence. But you've got +to move on, and keep moving. Do you get that?"</p> + +<p>The fugitive nodded, and Blount got up to stagger +across to the office wardrobe, from which he took +the extra rain-coat kept there for emergencies.</p> + +<p>"Here, get into this and go down-stairs. At the +corner above, you'll find a two-seated motor-car +backed against the curb. Do you know enough +about machinery to start an auto-engine?"</p> + +<p>Gryson nodded again. "I'd ought to, seein' that +I've been a gang boss in a shop that made 'em."</p> + +<p>"Good enough; crank the motor, climb in, and +wait. I'll do the rest."</p> + +<p>Five minutes later, Blount had stumbled out of +the elevator at the ground-floor and was groping +his way along the sidewalk toward the corner—groping +because the pain had become blinding again +and the street-lights were taking on many-colored +and fantastic brilliancies.</p> + +<p>When he finally found the car, it was mainly by +the sense of hearing; the motor was drumming softly +under the hood, and there was a blur in the mechanician's +seat which answered for the crouching figure +of the ward-worker. By a supreme effort of will +Blount swung himself up behind the steering-wheel +and let the clutch in. Luckily, the street was clear +of vehicles and he made the turn in safety; but +fully realizing his handicap, he steered straight away +from the business district, and making a wide circuit +through the residence quarter, brought the +car out in the eastern suburb at the beginning of a +road paralleling the Transcontinental tracks.</p> + +<p>With the lights of the city dropping away to the +rear, and the drumming motor quickened to racing +speed, he told the fugitive from justice what was to +be done and the manner of its doing. Twenty-two +miles out they would reach the coal-mine station of +Wardlaw, a few minutes ahead of the Overland. +Since all east-bound trains stopped at the coal-mines +to coal the engines, the way of escape would be open.</p> + +<p>Something more than a wordless, space-devouring +half-hour beyond this, Blount applied the brakes +and dropped his passenger at the rear of the small +iron-roofed building which served as the railroad +station for the coal-mines. Far to the rear on the +twenty-two-mile tangent the headlight of the coming +train showed like a blazing star low on the western +horizon.</p> + +<p>"Go and blacken your face and hands at one of +the slack dumps and pass yourself for a miner quitting +his job," was Blount's parting suggestion; but +the hollow-eyed fugitive had a last word to say, too, +and he said it.</p> + +<p>"I've been t' hell and back, as I told you, and +'twas f'r on'y th' wan thing: give me your word, +Evan Blount, that you'll chop th' damn' tree down +and let it lie where it falls! That's all I'm askin', +this trip."</p> + +<p>"You needn't lose any sleep worrying about that," +was the curt reply; and without waiting for the +train arrival, Blount turned the car and sent it +racing on the way back to the city.</p> + +<p>By all the tests he knew how to apply, he was +little better than a dead man when he returned the +hired auto to the side-street garage and made his +halting way around to the hotel. He had long +since given up the idea of trying to see Blenkinsop. +He knew that the editor would not be in his office +much before ten o'clock, and the two-hour wait was +not to be endured.</p> + +<p>Clinging desperately to the single purpose of getting +back to the deserted room before his absence +should be discovered, and weighed down by a crushing +sense of the immorality of the step he had just +taken in bargaining with a hunted criminal and in +conniving at his escape, he pressed on, pushing +through the revolving doors and slipping once more +into the Saturday evening lobby throng. Edging +around to the stair, he took all the cautious steps in +reverse; ascending first to his own room to leave the +rain-coat and the hat, and afterward feeling his way +down the servants' stair and through the lower corridor +to the locked door in his father's private suite.</p> + +<p>Past this he had a hazy notion that part of him—the +observing part—stood aside and looked on +while the other part slowly and painfully struggled +out of its clothes and into its pajamas. Also he +saw the other part, after it had carefully secreted +the wrapped package of papers under the mattress, +beat the pillows feebly and bury its head in them. +After that there was a great blank.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXVI" id="XXVI"></a>XXVI</h2> + +<h3>APPLES OF GOLD</h3> + + +<p>Notwithstanding the pillow-muffled plunge +which was almost a lapse into the coma of utter +exhaustion, Evan Blount awoke early on the Sunday +morning, refreshed and measurably free from +pain. Since the sun was just beginning to gild the +lofty finial on the dome of the Capitol opposite, there +was no one stirring as yet in the adjoining rooms of +the suite, and the streets were silent save for the +chanting cries of the newsboys.</p> + +<p>Slipping out of bed, Blount crossed to the window +and threw it open. It was good to be able to stand +and walk without wincing; and a breath of the sunrise +breeze sweeping down from the eastern hills +was like a draught of invigorating wine. As he leaned +out for an instant to make sure that not even the +height would bring a return of the vertigo, the wail +of the nearest newsboy became shrilly articulate: +<i>"Here's yer Morning Plainsman! All erbout the great +election frauds!"</i></p> + +<p>Hardly crediting his ears, Blount listened again, +and when the cry was repeated he closed the window +softly and sat down to grapple with this newest +development of his problem. Did the newsboy's +selling-cry mean that Blenkinsop had found out for +himself, and independently, about the falsified registration +lists? If so, there would be no public vindication +for one Evan Blount; but also—thank God!—no +need for a son to blazon himself to the world +as his father's accuser. A great wave of thankfulness +rolled over Blount's head, submerging him and +turning the exclamation which sprang to his lips +into a pæan of rejoicing. Instantly he saw himself +throwing up his railroad connection and taking his +rightful place as his father's counsel and defender. +Here, at last, was a cause into which he could fling +himself body and soul. True, people would say +that he had been in league with the corporations, +the boss, and the machine, from the first, but what +did that matter?</p> + +<p>But would his father need a defender? No +shadow of doubt as to this was admissible in the +face of the accumulating evidence, he told himself. +From the opening day of the campaign the machine +and the corporations had been working hand in +hand; Gryson and his fellow-crooks were the sufficient +proof; and besides.... Blount reached under +the mattress and drew out the wrapped package, +untying the string with fingers that trembled. +A cursory examination of the affidavits sufficed. In +Gryson's sworn statement, and in two others, the +"Big Boss" was inculpated definitely and by name.</p> + +<p>Blount glanced at the little clock on the dressing-case. +The early Sunday morning silence still prevailed +in the great hotel, and his resolve was quickly +taken. Dressing hurriedly, he went up to his own +room, and after a shave, a bath, and a freshening +change which included the removal of the disfiguring bandage, +he put on a close-fitting silk travelling-cap +under the soft hat and went down to the lobby.</p> + +<p>There were but few guests stirring at that hour, +and Blount had the writing-room to himself when +he bought a copy of <i>The Plainsman</i> and turned anxiously +to the editorial page. After the first thrilling +of relief born of the newsboy's cry, an unnerving fear +had crept in to whisper that possibly the facts might +not bear out the thankful assumption. A rapid +reading of Blenkinsop's editorial confirmed the fear, +and the reader's lips grew dry and his breath came +quickly when he realized that the submerging wave +of thankfulness had risen only to be driven back. +Blenkinsop had no facts, no evidence; he was merely +hitting out blindly with a general accusation of fraud +which he made no effort to substantiate or prove!</p> + +<p>Evan Blount saw the thorny path stretching away +before him again, and he rose up to walk in it like +a man. As once before, he went down to the railroad +restaurant for his breakfast, seeking solitude, +and the meal had been half-absently eaten before +he had readjusted himself, sorrowfully but firmly, +to the unchanged situation. His duty was as clearly +defined now as it had been the day previous, or at +any time in the past. There was nothing changed, +nothing different, save that a new complication had +arisen in the crucial shortness of the interval for action. +Knowing human nature a little, he knew how +difficult it is to arouse an effective public sentiment +on the eve of an election, no matter how important +the issues involved. In a hard school of experience +the voter has learned to discount the final-moment +cry of fraud. Would an exposure, however convincing, +appearing only in the Monday and Tuesday +morning newspapers have the desired effect?</p> + +<p>Blount walked by devious ways from the railroad +station to the Temple Court, and secluded himself +behind the locked door of his office to have a chance +to think the problem out to some effective conclusion. +What should he do? Should he find Blenkinsop +and get him and the United Press representative +together at once, laying before them the +damning evidence and telling them to use it as they +could? Or was there some surer way of firing the +mine of protest and exposure?</p> + +<p>There was one other way, at least, but the mere +thought of it made him sick and shaken. As an +upright citizen and a member of the bar, was it +not his duty to lay the evidence, not before the public +in the newspapers, but before a competent court +of justice? And in that event, was there in this +land of graft and corruption a judge sufficiently +fearless and incorruptible to act with the needful +vigor and promptness?</p> + +<p>When Blount asked himself this question, the +answer came quickly. Though it was the common +accusation, well or ill founded, that the lower courts +of the State were the creatures of the corporations, +the judges on the supreme bench still commanded +the respect of the people. Hemingway, the chief +justice, was peculiarly a man for a crisis; strong, +honest, and entirely fearless; a man who would not +stop to haggle over nice questions of precedent and +jurisdiction where the public welfare demanded +prompt and effective action.</p> + +<p>For a long half-hour Blount sat staring absently +at the desk litter, trying to decide between the +two courses open to him. He knew that his father +and Judge Hemingway had been lifelong friends, +and this added another drop of bitterness to a cup +which was already overflowing. None the less, he +was confident that the judge would do his duty as +he saw it. It was a merciless thing to do—to +make this just judge the slayer of the friend of his +youth; but at the end Blount reached for the +telephone-book and began to search for the chief +justice's residence number. Before he could find it +the phone bell rang.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he answered shortly, putting the receiver +to his ear.</p> + +<p>It was Miss Anners who was at the other end of +the wire, and he was instantly aware of the note of +anxiety in her voice.</p> + +<p>"<i>Evan!</i>" she exclaimed; "you don't know what a +fright you have given us! What are you doing at +your office when you ought to be here and in bed?"</p> + +<p>Blount drew the desk instrument closer and tried +to put her off lightly.</p> + +<p>"I'm all right again. I turned out early this +morning to make up for lost time. You wouldn't +expect me to stay in bed for more than a day to +oblige a common, ordinary coach-dog, would you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but see here—listen: Doctor Dillon has +been here, and he is perfectly shocked. He says +there may be complications, and the very least you +can do is to be careful. Your father has had the +hotel boys looking everywhere for you. When are +you coming back?"</p> + +<p>Here was the direct question which Blount had +been dreading. Now, if never before, the wretched +involvement had reached a point beyond which it +was impossible to follow his father's plea for a continuance +of the kinsman amenities.</p> + +<p>"I think you had better leave me out of any plans +you are making for the day," he answered evasively. +"I shall be pretty busy."</p> + +<p>"No—listen," she insisted. "It's wrong to work +on Sunday, but if you will be obstinate, you must +stop at luncheon-time. We are going to drive out +to Wartrace Hall this afternoon; Doctor Dillon says +we positively <i>must</i> take you away from town and +keep you quiet for a few days."</p> + +<p>"I can't go with you," he answered brusquely, +adding: "And I'm not sure that I can join you at +luncheon. There is so much to be done that I shall +probably drop around to the club for a bite at one +o'clock. Don't wait for me, and don't worry. +Above all, please don't tell anybody where I am—not +even Dick Gantry."</p> + +<p>He was considerably relieved when she said +"Good-by" rather abruptly, and rang off. None +the less, he thought it a little strange that his father +should be planning to leave the capital on the very +eve of the great struggle. Was he so sure that nothing +could happen within the next twenty-four hours? +Leaving the query answerless, he returned to the +interrupted duty. Deliberately, with the open telephone-book +before him, he sought and found Judge +Hemingway's number; and a few seconds later he +had the judge's house in Mesa Circle, with the +judge himself answering his call. The wire conversation +was brief and to the point. Cautiously, and +in well-guarded phrase, Blount stated his case. By +a series of correlated incidents which could be explained +later, documentary evidence of a great conspiracy +had fallen into his hands; would the judge +step aside so far as to accord him a Sunday interview, +taking his word for it that the emergency was +most urgent, and that the time was too short to +admit of the ordinary methods of procedure?</p> + +<p>The judge's answer was satisfactory, though +Blount fancied it was rather reluctantly given. A +family engagement—an accepted luncheon invitation—would +intervene; but between four and five +o'clock in the afternoon the chief justice would be +in his chambers in the Capitol building, and would +be glad to have the son of his old friend the senator +come at that hour.</p> + +<p>With time on his hands, Blount squared himself +at his desk and began to set his railroad house in +order. Now that the dreadful step was practically +taken, he was free to wind up the business of his +office, leaving things in order for his successor. Once +he had thought that he could not stay in the capital +or in the West after the cataclysm. But now the +manlier thought prevailed. A hard fate was making +him his father's betrayer; but beyond the betrayal, +with the bare duty done, he would take his place +as his father's son, proving his love and loyalty by +going down with him to any depth of infamy into +which the cataclysm might drag him.</p> + +<p>Since there was much to be done in the winding-up +task, the forenoon fled quickly, and the hands of the +small paper-weight clock on the desk were pointing +to a quarter of two when Blount snapped the rubber +band upon the final file of referred papers. There +were other odds and ends to be set in order, but he +determined to let them wait until he had eaten. A +scant half-hour in the club grill-room was all he allowed +himself, and at a quarter past two he was +back at his desk, preparing to make the cleaning-up +task complete. Between four and five, Judge Hemingway +had said; and Blount began on one of the +odds and ends, which was the writing of his letter +of resignation from the railroad service.</p> + +<p>He was enclosing the letter when there came a light +tap at the office-door, and then the door itself opened +to admit Patricia—a Patricia bright-eyed and determined, +alluringly charming in her tightly veiled driving-hat, +muffling motor-coat, and dainty gauntlets.</p> + +<p>"You?" said Blount not too hospitably. "I +thought you said something about going to Wartrace?"</p> + +<p>"So I did, and so I am," she asserted, coming to +sit in the chair last occupied by one Thomas Gryson.</p> + +<p>"And the others?" he queried.</p> + +<p>"They have just left; gone on ahead in the touring-car. +I was deputed to bring you."</p> + +<p>"But I told you this morning that I couldn't go, +and I can't!" he protested.</p> + +<p>She looked him squarely in the eye. "Evan, you +don't dare tell me why you can't!"</p> + +<p>"Business," he pleaded.</p> + +<p>"That may be half of the truth, but it isn't any +more than half." Then she made the direct appeal: +"I wish you'd tell me, Evan. I know a little—just +the little that Mrs. Blount has seen fit to tell me—and +no more. There is trouble threatening; some +dreadful trouble. I saw it yesterday when you were +so miserable; I can see it in your eyes this minute."</p> + +<p>Blount got up and began to pace the floor so that +she might not see his eyes. He was no more proof +against such an appeal than any lover gladly ready +to bare his soul to the woman chosen out of a world +of women for his confidant and second self would be.</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you," he affirmed, wheeling abruptly +to face her; "I wanted to tell you yesterday, only +it was too horrible. You will know it all when I +say that by this time to-morrow the whole State +will be ringing with the story of David Blount's +degradation and ruin; and I—his only son, Patricia—I +shall be the one who will have betrayed him and +brought it to pass!"</p> + +<p>She blanched a little at that, and there was a +great horror in her eyes. But he noted at the +moment, and remembered it afterward, that she did +not push him into the harrowing details, as another +woman might have done.</p> + +<p>"You are very sure, I suppose?" she said gently.</p> + +<p>He drew the packet of affidavits from his pocket.</p> + +<p>"This is the evidence: sworn statements incriminating +my father and many others."</p> + +<p>"You had those papers yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"No. I got up last night to keep my appointment +with the man who brought them. But you see now +why I can't go to Wartrace with you."</p> + +<p>"I see that you are going to do something for +which you will never, never be able to forgive yourself," +she said gravely. "You are going to make +use of those papers?"</p> + +<p>He sat down and stared gloomily at her. "Patricia, +I have taken a solemn oath. The law which +I have sworn to uphold is greater than—" He was +going to say, "greater than any man's claim for immunity," +but she finished the sentence otherwise for +him.</p> + +<p>"Is greater than your love for your father. I +suppose I ought to be able to understand that, but +I am not. Evan, you can't do it—you mustn't do +it; every drop of that father's blood in your veins +ought to cry out against it."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he exclaimed with a sudden indrawing of +his breath. "You don't know what it is costing me!"</p> + +<p>"Truly, I don't," she asserted calmly. "Your +father is a great and good man. If he had a daughter +instead of a son, she would know and understand." +Then, in a quick and generous upflash of +feeling: "I wish he had a daughter—I wish I were +she! I should try to show him that blood is thicker +than water!"</p> + +<p>"You wish—you were—his daughter? Do you +realize what you are saying?" Then he went on +brokenly: "<i>Don't</i>, Patricia, girl—for God's sake +don't tempt me to do evil that good may come! +Can't you understand how I am driven to do this +thing—how every fibre of me is rebelling against +the savage necessity? God knows, I'd give anything +I am or hope to be if the necessity could be +wiped out!"</p> + +<p>Instantly she changed her attack.</p> + +<p>"But I say you can not do it. You are a brave +man, Evan; I know, because I have seen you tried. +You mustn't turn cowardly now."</p> + +<p>"Nor shall I!" he countered quickly. "But I +don't understand."</p> + +<p>"Don't you? Isn't it cowardly to strike this +cruel blow in the dark? You <i>can't</i> do this thing +without giving your father the warning that you +would give your bitterest enemy—you simply can't, +and still be the man I have known and l—liked for +two whole years!"</p> + +<p>"Father's going to Wartrace this afternoon is +merely an added twist of the thumb-screws," he +protested in fresh wretchedness. "I should have +gone to him first—I meant to go to him first. From +what you said over the telephone this morning I +gathered that the Wartrace trip was to be made on +my account, and I hoped, I believed, it would be +given up when I refused to go. Now I can not see +him first; the time is too short. That which is to +be done must be done to-day—this afternoon; otherwise +it will be too late. Don't make it any harder +for me, Patricia. Surely you can see how hard it is, +in any case!"</p> + +<p>"As I said a moment ago, I can see that you are +about to do something for which, in all the years +to come, you will never be able to get your own +forgiveness. Oh, I know," she went on bitterly. +"You will tell me that I am a woman, with only a +woman's standards, which are valueless when they +get mixed up with the emotions. But I can tell +you that I know your father better than you do—much +better. And I believe in him, utterly, absolutely. +Won't you give him a chance, Evan? Won't +you show him those dreadful papers and ask him +what he will do when you have betrayed him?"</p> + +<p>Blount winced painfully at the hard word, and +then he remembered that he had been the first to +apply it. But he answered her in the only way +that seemed possible:</p> + +<p>"The time: I have promised to meet Chief Justice +Hemingway at his chambers between four and +five this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Chief Justice Hemingway?" she queried. "Why, +he—" she broke off suddenly and sprang from her +chair. "I have the little car here in the street. It +was Mrs. Blount's proposal; she said you would +change your mind if I came after you and offered +to drive you. Come! I'll promise to bring you +back before five o'clock. I know the time is awfully +short, but I can do it!"</p> + +<p>If Blount hesitated it was only because her beauty +and her eagerness thrilled him until, for the moment, +he could think of nothing else. Then he closed his +desk quickly and struggled into his overcoat, saying: +"It shall be as you wish. Let's go."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXVII" id="XXVII"></a>XXVII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH PATRICIA DRIVES</h3> + + +<p>For fifteen miles north of the capital the Quaretaro +road is a well-kept, level speedway, and Miss +Anners amply proved the worth of her summer's +training by showing herself a fearless driver. Half +an hour after the small roadster had left the curb +in front of the Temple Court Building it was among +the hills and climbing to the upper mesa level.</p> + +<p>Nearing the mouth of Shonoho Canyon, they +overtook and passed a horseman turning into the +canyon road. The man's horse shied and threatened +to bolt at sight of the storming car, but Patricia +was looking straight ahead, and she made no movement +to slacken speed. At the passing glimpse, +Blount's mind went shuttling backward to the homecoming +night in the Lost Hills, and he made sure he +recognized the rider as Hathaway's morose henchman, +the man Barto.</p> + +<p>He wondered vaguely what Barto could be doing +at the turn in the obstructed side-canyon road, +and the wonder went with him while the little car +was covering the remaining distance and flying up +the cottonwood-shaded avenue at Wartrace Hall. +But a glance at his watch made him forget the +Barto incident in a heart-warming thrill of admiration—the +joy of a skilled motorist recognizing +kindred skill in another. The thirty miles from +the city had been made in something under fifty +minutes.</p> + +<p>When she brought the roadster to a stand at the +carriage entrance, Patricia spoke for the first time +since she had taken the wheel for the record-breaking +drive.</p> + +<p>"Find your father quickly and say to him what +you have come to say. When you are ready to go +back, I'll keep my promise and drive you."</p> + +<p>"That won't be at all necessary," he protested, +getting out to stand with his hand on the dash. "I +am perfectly well able to drive myself; and, besides, +it would leave you at the wrong end of the road, +and alone."</p> + +<p>"Don't stand there talking about it," she commanded. +"Go and do what you have to do. I'll +wait here."</p> + +<p>Blount turned away and found old Barnabas +holding the door open for him. A word passed, +and the old negro bobbed his head. "Yas, sah; +Marsteh David's in de libra'y," was the answer to +Blount's query, and, throwing his overcoat and soft +hat aside, the bearer of burdens not his own walked +quickly through the hall and let himself into the +room of trial.</p> + +<p>The bright autumn day was cool—cool enough to +warrant the crackling wood-fire on the library hearth. +With his easy chair planted at the cosey corner of the +fire and an open book on the table at his elbow, the +senator sat smoking his long-stemmed pipe in the +Sunday afternoon quiet. Mingled with the fire-snapping +there were faint tappings, as if one of the +cottonwoods, growing too near the house, were +sending twig signals to the inmates.</p> + +<p>The senator moved the open book a little farther +aside when his son made an abrupt entrance into +the cheerful room.</p> + +<p>"Well, son, you made out to get here after so +long a time, didn't you?" he said gently. And then: +"How's the broken head to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Better," answered the son shortly, adding: "It's +the least of my troubles just now."</p> + +<p>"That's good," was the hearty comment. Then, +with the long stem of the pipe pointing to a Morris-chair: +"Draw up and sit down. I reckon the drive +has tired you some, even if you won't admit it. +Where's the little girl?"</p> + +<p>Evan Blount saw instantly that he must be brief +and pitiless.</p> + +<p>"Patricia is waiting in the car to drive me back +to town," he explained, forcing himself to speak +calmly. "I have an appointment with Chief Justice +Hemingway which must be kept, and he will +wait in his chambers in the Capitol only until five +o'clock. Father, do you know why I have made +that appointment?"</p> + +<p>The senator wagged his great head in a way which +might mean anything or nothing, and said: "How +should I know, son?"</p> + +<p>"I hoped you would know. It's not a very pleasant +task for me to tell you," the younger man went +on, ignoring the chair to which the long-stemmed +pipe was still pointing. "A short time ago—yesterday, +to be exact—evidence, legal evidence, of corruption +and false registration in four of the city wards, +and in a number of outlying districts in the +State, was put into my hands. This evidence incriminates +a group of ringleaders and a still larger +number of election officers. You know what I've +got to do with it."</p> + +<p>The older man nodded slowly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I reckon I know, son; and I'm not saying +a word. If you weren't a Blount, I might ask if +you haven't learned that one of the first rules in the +book of politics is the one that says we mustn't hang +the dirty clothes out where everybody can see 'em, +but I know better than to say anything like that to +you."</p> + +<p>The young man's heart sank within him. It +seemed evident that his father was still unsuspecting, +still unconscious of the dreadful consequences +to himself. Only utter frankness could avail now.</p> + +<p>"I can't discuss the question of expediency with +you," he said hastily, "any further than to say that +I'd cheerfully give ten years of my life to be able +to consider it. Let me be perfectly plain: This evidence +I am speaking of involves you personally. If +the papers are put into Judge Hemingway's hands +there will be a searching investigation, prompt indictments, +criminal proceedings, and all the disgrace +that the widest publicity can bring upon the +men who are responsible for the present desperate +state of affairs."</p> + +<p>The senator had laid his pipe aside and was staring +soberly into the fire. "Go on, son," he said +quietly; "let's have the rest of it."</p> + +<p>"You know what has led up to the present +wretched involvement—my involvement," Blount +went on. "When I took the railroad job, I did it +in good faith and went about preaching the gospel +of the square deal for everybody, including the corporations. +But in a very short time I discovered +that my own people were not keeping faith with +me; had no intention of keeping it. Later on, a +number of corporation officials and managers, men +who had formerly made corrupt deals with the railroad +company, and are to this day profiting by +them, became frightened. Assuming that I was the +chief broker for the railroad company in the present +campaign, these men wrote me letters which +were in the highest degree incriminating."</p> + +<p>The big man who was staring into the heart of +the fire nodded thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"I remember; you told me something about that +before, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and we needn't go into the details again. +I meant to use those letters as a club to hammer a +little honesty into my own employers. Up to that +time I had been trying to believe that the machine—your +machine—and the railroad lawbreakers were +not one and the same thing."</p> + +<p>"But you changed your mind about that?"</p> + +<p>"I had to, after I found out that you had corrupted +one of my clerks and had sent one of your +thugs to dynamite my safe. That is past and gone; +but you can see where it left me. As you and +everybody in the State know, I had been committing +myself publicly everywhere, doing it with the assurance +that when it came to the pinch I could bring +Gantry and Kittredge and even Mr. McVickar himself +to terms—the terms of honesty and fair dealing. +With my weapon stolen, I was left helpless, facing +the certainty that on the day after the election I +should be pilloried in every hole and corner of my +native State as the most shameless liar that ever +breathed. Do you wonder that I was desperate?"</p> + +<p>"No, son; I reckon you wouldn't have been much +of a Blount if you hadn't been."</p> + +<p>"I was desperate. I said to myself that I would +find another weapon, even if I should have to take +a leaf out of your own book, dad, to do it. I took +the leaf, and I have the weapon. You drove Gryson +away, but you made one small miscalculation. +You didn't believe that his desire for revenge would +be stronger than his fear of the gallows."</p> + +<p>Again the older man nodded thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes, son; I know. He came back twice: once +when he found you in your office last Wednesday +night; and again yesterday, or rather last evening, +when you got out of your bed and went to help +him make his getaway on the east-bound Overland."</p> + +<p>Evan Blount started back, and his exclamation +was of pure astoundment.</p> + +<p>"You knew all this?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I reckon there isn't much happening +that such a double-dyed old villain as I am doesn't +find out, Evan," was the sober rejoinder.</p> + +<p>"But, good heavens! if you know so much, you +must know what Gryson came back for, and what +he gave me!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I know that, too. I reckon I might as +well make a clean breast of it while I'm at it."</p> + +<p>"You knew it last night, and yet you didn't send +somebody to hold me up and take the papers away +from me?"</p> + +<p>The senator's chuckle rumbled deep in his mighty +chest.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I was counting a little on the kinship, +Evan, boy. Maybe I was saying to myself: 'No, +I reckon the boy won't do it, after all—not when +he reads what's set down in the papers; he just +naturally couldn't do it.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my Lord, dad!" was the choking response. +"Can't you see that you are killing me by inches? +Can't you see that I've got to choose between being +a man clear through, or a scoundrel as weak and +shifty as any of those I have been denouncing? +My God, it's terrible!"</p> + +<p>"I reckon you're going to choose straight," said +the older man, still with eyes averted.</p> + +<p>"I have chosen," said the son brokenly; "or perhaps +it would be truer to say that there never has +been any choice since the moment when I set my +foot in the path which has led me thus far on the +way to hell. I can despise myself utterly for the +means I took to secure the evidence, but that very +lapse makes it all the more needful that I should +atone as I can."</p> + +<p>David Blount rose and put his back to the fire.</p> + +<p>"Son, you are a man among a thousand—among +ten thousand," he said quietly. "When it comes +to a pure question of good, old-fashioned right and +wrong, you can buck up just like your old great-gran'pap, +the judge, did when he had to sentence +one of his own sons for killing an Indian. You +haven't said it in so many words, so I'll say it for +you: you've got me, and maybe some others, right +where you can shove us into the penitentiary. +That's about what you're trying to tell me, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, don't put it that way!" Blount +protested. "I gave you fair warning almost at the +first. I've got to fight for the right as I see it. If +I don't, I shall be less than a man—less than your +son. Can't you see that it is breaking my heart?"</p> + +<p>A silence electrically surcharged with possibilities +settled down upon the isolated room, with the stillness +broken only by the crackling of the fire and +that other distant tapping as of tree-twigs on the +roof. At the end of the pause the senator took a +forward step and put a hand on his son's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I haven't one word to say, Evan, boy," he began +slowly. "As you told me that first day out here, +son, it's your job to hew to the line and let the chips +fall where they may. You go ahead and do just +what seems right and law-abiding to you. I'd rather +go to jail twice over than have you do any different. +Is that what you're wanting me to say?"</p> + +<p>Blount dropped into a chair, as if the touch on +his shoulder had crushed him, and covered his face +with his hands. It was hard—harder than even his +own prefigurings had forecast it. Fighting against +the patent facts, he had been cherishing a lingering +hope that his father might be able to brush away +the cruel necessity at the last moment. But now +the hope was dead.</p> + +<p>It was a long minute before he staggered to his +feet and groped his way to the door, leaving his +father standing before the fire and once more puffing +absently at the long-stemmed pipe. When old Barnabas +had helped him into his coat and had given +him his hat, he found Patricia still sitting in the car, +with the motor purring softly under the hood.</p> + +<p>"Must you go back?" she queried, when he had +descended the steps to climb stiffly into the seat +beside her.</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"Your duty is clear?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly clear—now."</p> + +<p>"And the consequences?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I can only guess," he muttered. "Ruin and +disgrace for all of us, I suppose. Of course, you +understand that I have resigned from the railroad +service and shall stand with my father when—when +the thing is done."</p> + +<p>She was backing the little roadster into the circling +driveway to turn for the start. At the reversing +moment she made her final plea.</p> + +<p>"Don't do it, Evan—<i>don't do it!</i> I have no more +than a woman's reason to offer, but I am sure you +are opening the door to a lifelong sorrow for yourself +and—and—for me!"</p> + +<p>It was the last two words that steeled him suddenly. +Not even at her beseeching would he turn +aside from the plain path of the oath-bound obligation. +It struck him like a blow that the turning +aside would make him forever unworthy of her.</p> + +<p>"Take me back to the city as quickly as you can!" +he said. "Or, better still, stay here and let me have +the car. That is my last word."</p> + +<p>"You're not fit to drive a car!" she snapped; and +for further answer she threw the speed lever into the +intermediate gear and released the clutch. Like a +projectile hurled from a catapult, the swift little +roadster shot away down the cottonwood avenue, +and with a jerk of the lever into the "high" the +second race against time was begun.</p> + +<p>For the first few miles Patricia's passenger had +all he could do to keep his seat. On its upper mesa +windings the Quaretaro road follows the course of +the stream which has been robbed of its waters for +the cultivated lands, and though the roadway was +good the hazards were plentiful when taken at speed. +More than once Blount caught himself in the act +of reaching for the steering-wheel, but as often he +desisted. As on the outward race, Patricia was +staring straight ahead, and giving the little car +every throb of speed there was in its machinery. +None the less, he could see that she had it under +perfect control.</p> + +<p>What finally happened came with the suddenness +of the thunder-clap following a bolt which strikes +near at hand. They were on the down-grade approach +to the mouth of Shonoho Canyon, and they +could not see beyond the gentle curve to the left, +where the smaller gulch found its intersection with +the main ravine. When they were within a hundred +yards of the curve the stretch below came into +view. Blount had a momentary glimpse of some +barrier—a pine-tree, as it proved to be—lying across +the main road. Seeing it, he realized at the same +instant that Patricia was neither throttling the motor +nor applying the brakes. After that he had barely +time to snap the switch and to throw the heavy +wind-shield down before the devastating crash came.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXVIII" id="XXVIII"></a>XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE GOSSIPING WIRES</h3> + + +<p>After his son had left him, the Honorable Senator +Sage-Brush remained standing before the library +fire until he heard the machine-gun exhausts +of the small roadster distance-diminishing down the +driveway avenue. Then he stepped aside and pressed +the bell-push ordinarily used to summon the old +negro footman.</p> + +<p>In answer to the call a door opened beyond the +chimney-jamb, and immediately the gentle twig-tapping +sounds resolved themselves into the clickings +of a pair of telegraph relays and the chatter of +a typewriter. A good-looking young fellow, with +his coat off, entered the library, carefully closing the +door behind him.</p> + +<p>"Want to send something, senator?" he asked, +whipping a note-book from his hip-pocket.</p> + +<p>"No, not just this minute. Anything new coming +over the wires?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing startling. Steuchfield reports from +Ophir that we swing the miners' vote almost to a +man unless something unforeseen breaks loose. +Hetchy gives us a good word from Twin Buttes; and +Griggs, up in the Carnadines, wires from Alkire that +he has just completed an auto canvass of the High +Line district. The ranchmen up that way have had +a pretty bad scare. There was a threat made that +the price of water was going to be raised. But they're +all right now."</p> + +<p>The boss nodded approvingly. Then: "How about +those microphone notes?"</p> + +<p>"Crowell is writing them off," was the reply. +"He'll have them in half an hour or so."</p> + +<p>The senator drew out his watch, a huge thick-crystalled +time-piece dating back to the range-riding +period.</p> + +<p>"As matters have turned out, I shall be going to +the city before long," he said. "If the notes are not +ready before I leave, you can order out the speed-car +and send them in by Gallagher any time before six +o'clock. Don't slip up on that, Fred; tell Gallagher +to deliver the notes to me, in person, at the Inter-Mountain. +What's become of Professor Anners?"</p> + +<p>"He's staying over at Haworth's ranch, just to +be near the fossil bone-field. They've made another +plesio-something find, and Haworth telephones that +the professor couldn't be dragged away with a derrick +until those bones are safely out of the ground +and boxed for shipment."</p> + +<p>The professor's host smiled indulgently, saying: +"It's just as well, I reckon. The professor's about +as blind as a bat when it comes to seeing anything +this side of a million years ago, but if he were here +he might wonder why we've set up a telegraph-office—wonder, +and talk about it."</p> + +<p>The young man in his shirt-sleeves was turning to +go. "I'll hustle Crowell on those notes," he promised: +but as he was reaching for the door-knob the senator +stopped him.</p> + +<p>"Hold on a minute, Fred; how is that contrivance +of ours at the mouth of Shonoho working?"</p> + +<p>"It's working all right. Canby is on watch there +now, and he says he can see everything that passes +on both roads."</p> + +<p>"That's good. These little precautions are mighty +necessary in a close fight. Those folks over at Shonoho +Inn ought to have thought of this outer-guard +business for themselves, but it seems they didn't. +They'd be right awkwardly embarrassed if some fellow +they don't want to see should slip in on 'em without +notice. While I think of it, don't fail to keep me +posted on what Canby sees after I go back to town. +He thinks he's safe, does he?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly. Nobody can see his dugout from the +road, and his oil-heater doesn't make any smoke. +That scheme of laying insulated wires on the ground +works like a charm. You could walk all over them +without noticing them." The young man was opening +the door as he spoke, and he broke off suddenly +to say: "That's his call ringing now. Would you +like to come and talk to him?"</p> + +<p>"No; you can tell me what he says, if it's worth +telling."</p> + +<p>The clerk disappeared into the room of the tapping +noises, but he was back again almost immediately.</p> + +<p>"It was Canby," he said hurriedly. "He says two +men on horseback have just dragged a good-sized +pine-tree down the Shonoho road and are placing +it across the county road. He can't see the men's +faces very well, but he thinks the bigger of the two +is Jack Barto."</p> + +<p>It was the senator's boast that he had never lost +a tooth or had one filled, and his smile showed the +double row, strong and evenly matched, under the +drooping grayish mustaches.</p> + +<p>"That boy Canby is a mighty good guesser, Fred. +I shouldn't be surprised if the fellow he has spotted +<i>is</i> Jack Barto, sure enough. If you didn't know +beforehand what a good-natured, meechin' sort of +rooster Jack is, you might think he was fixing to play +some kind of a hold-up game on somebody."</p> + +<p>"That's what Canby thinks, and he asked me to +hold the wire open."</p> + +<p>The big boss smiled again. "Then don't you +reckon you'd better go and hold it?" he suggested +mildly; and the young man in his shirt-sleeves vanished +to do it.</p> + +<p>When he was left alone, the senator went to the +house phone connecting the library with the remoter +suites. A touch of the button brought an +answering word, and he spoke softly into the transmitter.</p> + +<p>"The time is getting right ripe, and I thought you +might want a minute or so to put on your things," +he said, in answer to the low-toned "Well?" that +came over the house wire. Then he added: "I don't +know but what we may have to make a little bluff +at somebody on the way in. When you order the +car around, suppose you tell Rickert to put 'Tennessee' +and Billy Shack in the tonneau, with a couple +of shot-guns. We can drop 'em if they look too +warlike and conspicuous."</p> + +<p>He was hanging the ear-piece on its hook when the +shirt-sleeved young man burst in again excitedly.</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> a hold-up!" he declared breathlessly. "Miss +Anners and Mr. Evan have slammed their car into +the tree, and Canby says the two horseback men are +watching them from the dry gulch just below him!"</p> + +<p>"All right," was the even-toned reply. "You go +and tell Canby to keep his shirt on, Fred; and don't +forget to send those papers in by Gallagher."</p> + +<p>While the senator was speaking, the door opened +and the old negro came hobbling in with a driving-coat +and the broad-brimmed planter's hat which +made the Honorable David a marked man throughout +the length and breadth of the Sage-Brush State.</p> + +<p>"De cyar's at de do', Marsteh David, and Mistis +say she plumb ready when you is, yes-sah," stammered +the serving-man, holding the coat for his +master; and a moment later the senator was climbing +to his place behind the big wheel of the touring-car, +with Mrs. Honoria for his seat-mate on the +mechanician's side, and the chauffeur, the horse +wrangler, and Billy Shack comfortably filling the +tonneau.</p> + +<p>While the touring-car, with its curiously assorted +complement of passengers, was leaving Wartrace +Hall, Evan Blount, having assured himself that Patricia +was not hurt, was trying to estimate the extent +of the damage done to the little red roadster +by the collision with the tree. The inspection was +brief. With the front axle bent and the radiator +crushed, the car was safely out of commission.</p> + +<p>"We're definitely out of the fight," he reported +shortly, helping his companion down from the driving-seat.</p> + +<p>Patricia was still trembling and pale.</p> + +<p>"You mean that we can't go on to the city?" she +quavered.</p> + +<p>"Not unless we walk; and of course that is out +of the question."</p> + +<p>"Then you—you can't keep your appointment +with Judge Hemingway."</p> + +<p>Blount's smile was scornful. "I imagine it was no +part of my father's plans that I should keep my appointment," +he commented bitterly. "He took it +for granted that I would drive out to Wartrace with +you, and made his preparations accordingly. This +tree wasn't here half an hour ago, and it is here now."</p> + +<p>"I can't believe it of him," she denied, and her +lip quivered. And then she added: "Just think, +Evan; we might have been killed—both of us!"</p> + +<p>Blount's teeth came together with a little clicking +noise. "Politics, or what passes for politics in this +God-forsaken region, seems to make no account of +such a small thing as a human life or two," he said. +And then: "I suppose we are due to wait until +somebody comes along to pick us up. It's four +miles or more back to the nearest ranch on the mesa."</p> + +<p>"It is all my fault!" lamented the young woman. +"I—I might have stopped the car, don't you think?"</p> + +<p>"I wondered a little that you didn't at least try +to stop it," he permitted himself to say; and at this +she forgot the traditions, sociological or other, reverting +to the type of the eternal feminine.</p> + +<p>"Say it all," she flashed out. "You are beginning +to wonder if I didn't do it purposely. I <i>did</i> do it +purposely. All the way along I had been trying to +muster up courage enough to smash the car in the +ditch, and if I hadn't been such a coward I would +have done it. Now hate me, if you want to!"</p> + +<p>Blount would have been less the lover than he was +if he had not been moved to something much warmer +than hatred.</p> + +<p>"Let us say that you are doing your level best to +save my faith in human nature, Patricia, girl," he +said soberly. "Do you know what you are? You +are the one loyal person in a tricky world. I am +still fair enough to say that it was fine—splendid! +And I only wish my father were worthier of such +superb loyalty and affection."</p> + +<p>She looked at him curiously for a moment. Then +her mood changed in the twinkling of an eye, and +she laughed and said: "Yes, I think women are more +loyal than men; and I am sure they are vastly more +discerning at times. Don't you think——"</p> + +<p>The interruption was the appearance of two horsemen +pushing their animals out of a small gorge on +the right. When they had gained the main road +they came up, ambling easily, and Blount instantly +recognized the leader of the pair. It was Barto +again.</p> + +<p>"Howdy?" said the timber-looker, riding up to +hang with one knee over the saddle while he grinned +genially at the two castaways. "Lost out ag'in, +ain't ye, Mr. Blount? Couldn't make out, nohow, +to run yer chug-wagon over that there pine-tree, +could ye?"</p> + +<p>"Did you put the tree in the road?" snapped +Blount, his anger rising promptly, now that there +was a man to quarrel with.</p> + +<p>"I reckon we did; and it was one Hades of a job, +too," was the cool reply. "Had to drag the dern +thing f'r more'n half a mile down the gulch with the +hawss-ropes."</p> + +<p>Here was plenty of material for a wrathful explosion, +but Blount controlled himself.</p> + +<p>"By whose orders did you do it?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Th' boss's."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Hathaway?"</p> + +<p>"Not on yer life; it was the big boss this time."</p> + +<p>Blount's quick glance aside at his companion was +a wordless "I told you so!" and then to Barto: +"Well, now that you have stopped us, what's next?"</p> + +<p>The outlaw grinned again and kicked his horse a +little nearer.</p> + +<p>"I'm a-holdin' you up sure enough this time, Mr. +Blount—jest like another little Billy th' Kid," he +confided. "You're goin' to gimme them papers +you've got in your pocket, and then me an' Kinky +we rides away all peaceful and leaves you and the +lady to set down quiet till somebuddy comes along +to pick you up."</p> + +<p>Blount put his hand to his head. His wound was +throbbing painfully again, and the pain may have +been partly responsible for his answer.</p> + +<p>"When you get those papers you'll take them +from a dead man, Barto. Do your instructions go +that far?"</p> + +<p>The man of many trades swung straight in his +saddle and fell into the attitude of one listening. +Then the good-natured grin became a menacing +scowl.</p> + +<p>"Shuck them papers out, and do it sudden!" he +commanded.</p> + +<p>"No," said Blount crisply.</p> + +<p>Instantly the timber-looker's pistol was out.</p> + +<p>"Give 'em up!" he shouted; "shell 'em out, +quick, 'r by the holy—"</p> + +<p>The interposition broke in stormily. Down the +grade from the upper mesa level came a touring-car, +with a big man at the wheel, a veiled woman +beside him, and three men in the tonneau. "Holy +smoke!" said the outlaw, and with his riding mate +was slipping away up the Shonoho road when the +touring-car, with brakes protesting, came to a stand +at the tree barrier. Like a flash, two of the three +men in the tonneau leaped out, and a charge of +buckshot whistling over the heads of the two obstructionists +halted them. Thereupon the Honorable +David gave his orders tersely.</p> + +<p>"Tennessee, you go up yonder and argue with +Jack Barto a spell," he directed. "Tell him and his +partner that the Wartrace smoke-house is the safest +place in Quaretaro County for a couple of club-witted +bunglers like they are, and then you see to +it that they get there. You, Billy, help Rickert get +a tow-rope hitch on that road-car, and we'll see if +we can't jerk it out of the way." After which he +turned to his son as casually as if only the preconceived +and preconcerted had come to pass: "Tried +to wreck you, did they? Mighty near made a job +of it, too, from the looks of Miss Patty's little car. +Not hurt, are you? That's good. Climb in here, +both of you, and when we get this windfall out of +the road we'll go on to town."</p> + +<p>Blount put Patricia into the empty tonneau +while Shack and the chauffeur were making the tow-rope +hitch, but he was still angry enough to hesitate +when it came his turn. A glance at his watch decided +him. It was still only half past four. Had his +father repented so far as to override the obstacle +which he himself had interposed? Patricia was +holding the tonneau-door open, and Blount got in +and took his seat beside her.</p> + +<p>A small engineering feat, made possible by the +power plant of the big car and the tow-rope, soon +cleared the way of the wrecked roadster and the +tree. Then the senator gave another order.</p> + +<p>"You and Billy stay here and see if you can't get +that roadster so you can run it to town on its own +power," he said to the chauffeur; and over his +shoulder to the pair behind him: "If you'll change +partners back there, and let Honoria ride on the +cushions—"</p> + +<p>Though he could not remotely apprehend his +father's reason for the rearrangement, Blount got +out, helped Mrs. Honoria down and up again, and +then climbed into the seat she had just vacated. +At the click of the tonneau door-latch the big car +rolled on down the grade, and for a good half of the +straightaway fifteen miles to the city the younger +man held his peace grimly. Finally he turned to +his father and said:</p> + +<p>"I'm blaming you for the tree, and for Barto's +attempt to get those papers away from me. Am I +wrong?"</p> + +<p>The Honorable David shook his head.</p> + +<p>"This close to an election you're mighty near safe +in blaming anybody and everybody in sight, son," he +returned gravely; and apart from this small break in +the monotony, the second half of the fifteen miles +went speechless.</p> + +<p>The clock in the Temple Court tower was pointing +to five minutes of five when the senator, instead of +taking the direct street to the Inter-Mountain, as +his son expected him to, turned the car aside into +the Capitol grounds and brought it to rest before +the side entrance which led to the chambers of the +Supreme Court justices.</p> + +<p>"You're still in time, Evan, boy," he intimated +gently; "and I'm only going to ask one thing of +you. When you get through with Hemingway, come +around to the hotel and show your grit by taking +dinner with the rest of us. Are you man enough to +do that?"</p> + +<p>If the son hesitated, it was only for a fraction of a +second. When he answered, it was to say: "If I +were going up-stairs to put a noose around my own +neck, it would be simpler and easier than the thing +I've got to do. As to your one condition—dad, I'll +be with you at dinner, and at all other times, after +this thing is done. I've quit the railroad, and I +did it so that I might be free to be your son and your +lawyer when the smash comes. Can I say more?"</p> + +<p>"You don't need to say another blessed word, +son," was the sober rejoinder; and when Evan +Blount got out, the Honorable David drove away +without a backward glance for the young man who +was dragging himself up the granite steps of the +Capitol entrance like a condemned criminal going +to execution.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIX" id="XXIX"></a>XXIX</h2> + +<h3>AT SHONOHO INN</h3> + + +<p>Evan Blount's interview with the venerable +chief justice was not at all what he had imagined it +would be. To begin with, he found it blankly impossible +to take the attitude he had meant to take—namely, +that of a conscientious member of the +bar, rigorously ignoring all the little cross-currents +of human sympathy and the affections.</p> + +<p>Almost at once he found himself telling his story +incident by incident to the kindly old man who was +figuring rather as a father confessor than as a judge +and a legal superior. When it was done, and the +chief justice had gone thoughtfully over the mass of +evidence, Blount saw no thunder-cloud of righteous +indignation gathering upon the judicial brow. Nor +was Judge Hemingway's comment in the least what +he had expected it would be.</p> + +<p>"I can not commend too highly your prudence and +good judgment in bringing these papers to me, Mr. +Blount," was the form the comment took. "Your +position was a difficult one, and not one young man +in a hundred would have been judicious enough to +choose the conservative middle path you have +chosen. The fanatic would have rushed into print, +and the vast majority would have weakly compromised +with conscience. It is a source of the deepest +satisfaction to me, as your father's friend, to find +that you have done neither."</p> + +<p>"As my father's friend?" echoed Blount.</p> + +<p>"Yes, just that, Mr. Blount. There is an appreciation +which transcends the commonplace things of +life, and I don't know which is worthier of the greater +admiration, your courage in coming to me, or your +father's single-heartedness in urging you to do it +after he had learned the purport of these papers. +Yet this is what I should have expected of David +Blount as I know him. Men say of him that he has +sometimes wielded his tremendous political power +regardless of the law and of other men's rights. +But in the field of pure ethics, in the exercise of the +high and holy duty which is laid upon the man who +has become a father, I should look to find your father +doing precisely what he has done. I assure you +that it is not without reason that many of his fellow +citizens call him most affectionately the 'Honorable +Senator Sage-Brush.'"</p> + +<p>"But the consequences!" gasped the unwilling informer. +"His name in those affidavits!"</p> + +<p>The chief justice was nodding slowly.</p> + +<p>"Without doubt a great crime has been committed, +and a still greater one is contemplated. We shall +take prompt action to defeat the contemplated +crime at the polls next Tuesday, rest assured of +that. But at the same time, let me say a word for +your comfort: these papers came to you from the +hands of a criminal, and that particular criminal +had—as I am well informed—every reason to be vindictively +enraged against your father. I am sure +you are too good a lawyer to fail to see the point. +If this man Gryson, in 'getting even,' as he expressed +it to you, has added perjury to his other crimes—But +we need not follow the suggestion any further +at this time. Be hopeful, Mr. Blount, as I am. +Leave these matters with me, and go and be as good +a son as he deserves to my old friend David."</p> + +<p>Evan Blount left the venerable presence in the +judges' chambers of the Capitol with a heart strangely +mellowed, and with a feeling of relief too great to +be measured. At last, without compromise, and +equally without the slightest concession to the natural +human passion for vindication, the momentous +step had been taken. Whatever might come of it, +there would be no daggerings from an outraged conscience, +no remorse for an unworthy passion impulsively +yielded to. Also, with the rolling of the +terrible burden to other and entirely competent shoulders +there came a sense of freedom that was almost +jubilant; and under the promptings of this new light-heartedness +he was able to make a reasonably cheerful +fourth at the <i>café</i> dinner-table a little later.</p> + +<p>Oddly enough, as he thought, Patricia was also +cheerful, though she vanished with Mrs. Honoria to +the private suite shortly after the adjournment to +the mezzanine lounge. Past this, after the father +and son had smoked their cigars in man-like silence +for a time, Mrs. Honoria, coated and hatted as if +to go out, came back to sit near the balustrade, looking +down upon the kindling lobby activities. Shortly +after her coming the senator rose to go. Instantly +his wife sprang up to walk with him to the head of +the great stair.</p> + +<p>"The time has come?" she asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"I reckon it has, little woman."</p> + +<p>"I wish I might be there to see," she said softly. +And then, whipping a packet of papers from under +her street-coat: "Take these. When you see what +they are, you'll know why I haven't given them to +you before this. As long as you didn't know anything +about it, you could tell Evan the simple truth—that +you didn't have them."</p> + +<p>The Honorable David pocketed the papers without +looking at them.</p> + +<p>"I suspected you—or, rather, young Collins—quite +a little spell ago," he said with imperturbable +good nature. "I couldn't have done it myself; I +reckon no right-minded man could have done it, +but—"</p> + +<p>"—But women have no conscience," she finished +for him. "<i>I</i> hadn't in this instance. There was too +much at stake with a firebrand like Evan to deal +with. Don't be too good-natured, David—to-night, +I mean. You know that is your failing when you +have a man down. But to-night you must make +the man pay the price. That's all, I think. I'm +going back to Evan now to see if I can't make him +talk to me. That is the one thing I have seldom +been able to do thus far."</p> + +<p>If Blount was a little surprised when the small +plotter came back to take the chair recently vacated +by his father, he was generous enough not to show +it. The huge sense of relief was still with him, and +its mellowing influence made him smile leniently +when she said: "I want to be reasoned with, Evan. +I have just let your father persuade me that a certain +thing he is about to do is perfectly safe, when I +am afraid it isn't."</p> + +<p>"Since he is undertaking to do it, it's safe enough, +you may be sure," he replied at random.</p> + +<p>"Then you know what it is?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; he didn't tell me where he was going. +But on general principles, you know, I think he can +be trusted to take care of himself. He is a many-sided +man, Mrs. Blount. You are his wife, but I +have sometimes found myself wondering if, after +all, you know him as he really is."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I don't," she agreed readily enough. +"But I do know his absolute fearlessness, at least. +That's why I'm a little nervous just now."</p> + +<p>Blount took the alarm at once, as she hoped he +would.</p> + +<p>"You mean that he is really going into danger of +some sort?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>She nodded. "He is going to meet a man who is—well, +he is a big man with many of the same qualities +that your father has. But down at the very +bottom of him there is a quality that even your +father doesn't suspect. Have you ever seen a cornered +rat, Evan?"</p> + +<p>Blount had got upon his feet and was buttoning +his coat.</p> + +<p>"I don't know how much or how little you know +about what has taken place this afternoon, Mrs. +Blount," he broke out hastily, "but I can tell you +this much: I am my father's son now, whatever I +have been in the past, and if he is in danger, my +place is with him. Tell me where he has gone."</p> + +<p>The little lady's eyes were demurely downcast. +"I shouldn't dare tell you that, but—but perhaps I +might show you. I didn't promise not to—not to +follow him," she returned with exactly the proper +shade of half-frightened reluctance.</p> + +<p>"Is it far?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Y-yes; we should have to drive."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me for a minute or two," he said abruptly, +and, making a bolt for the elevator, he was back almost +within the limit named with a top-coat for +himself and a driving-wrap for his companion. "I +broke into your suite and made Patricia give me +the wrap," he explained. "If it isn't what you +want, I'll try again."</p> + +<p>"It will do nicely," she told him; and together they +went down the broad marble stair to the ground-floor.</p> + +<p>"Do we take a cab?" he asked, when they reached +the sidewalk.</p> + +<p>"No; it's only a short walk to the garage, and we +can take the touring-car."</p> + +<p>"I'm entirely in your hands," he rejoined; and +then: "Perhaps you'd better take my arm. We +can make quicker time that way."</p> + +<p>The small plotter's eyes were dancing when she +slipped her hand under his arm. In a career which +had not been entirely devoid of excitement, Mrs. +Honoria had rarely found men difficult. But this +particular young man was proving himself to be the +easiest among many.</p> + +<p>At the garage Blount asked for the family touring-car, +more than half-expecting to be told that his +father had taken it. The garage man nodded and +laughed. "You can have it, but you came within an +ace of losing out," he said. "The senator was just +here, and he was going to take it, but he changed +his mind when I told him the big roadster was in."</p> + +<p>Blount made no comment, and when the car was +ready he asked his companion where she would ride.</p> + +<p>"In front, with you," was the quick reply; and +when they were placed she gave him his running +orders. "Slip out of the city by the quietest streets +you can find and take the Quaretaro road," she directed, +and he obeyed in silence, holding the speed +down until they had left the capital behind them +and were bowling along under the stars on the fine +boulevarded county road.</p> + +<p>"Do we take it easy or the other way?" he asked, +speaking for the first time since they had left the +town garage.</p> + +<p>"You may drive as fast as you like until we come +to the hills," he was told; and with this permission +Blount let the motor out and speedily put the fifteen +miles of the straightaway road to the rear.</p> + +<p>"Is it Wartrace?" he inquired, when the touring-car +was breasting the first of the grades in the gulch-threading +climb to the second mesa level.</p> + +<p>"No. When you come to the pine-tree, turn to +the right up Shonoho Canyon."</p> + +<p>"We can't get anywhere on that road," he objected. +"It's washed out and posted. I tried to go +up there the other day when I had Patricia out in +the little car."</p> + +<p>"I think you will find it quite passable to-night," +was all the answer he got; and a little later, when +they had turned out of the main road and were +ascending the small canyon, the prophecy came +true. The brush barricade had been thrown aside, +and there were fresh wheel tracks in the sand.</p> + +<p>At sight of the wheel marks the senator's wife +spoke again.</p> + +<p>"You have been up here before?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, once; in the middle of the summer."</p> + +<p>"There is a small hotel at the head of the road."</p> + +<p>"I know; but it is closed."</p> + +<p>"It has been reopened—please throttle the motor +so it won't make so much noise—the hotel is occupied +now, as I say, and that is where we shall find +your father. Are you still willing to do as I tell +you to?"</p> + +<p>"In all things reasonable."</p> + +<p>"As if I'd ask you to do anything unreasonable!" +she broke out half-petulantly. "Listen; there is a +lawn with a circular driveway in front of the hotel. +Drive to the outer edge, near the cliff, and stop the +car."</p> + +<p>Five minutes later he had obeyed his instructions +literally. Through the groving of trees on the lawn +he could see the lights in the lower story of the inn. +At the flicking of the motor-switch a man with a +pair of lineman's climbing spurs at his belt rose up +out of the shadows and touched his cap to the lady, +saying: "The boss is here; he has just gone in."</p> + +<p>"I know," was the low-toned response. And then +to Evan: "Help me out, please."</p> + +<p>When they stood together beside the car she +spoke again to the lineman.</p> + +<p>"Is it all right, Jackson? Can you do what I +asked you to?"</p> + +<p>"We can try it a whirl," said the man; and thereupon +he led the way across the lawn, around to the +darkened end of the bungalow-built resort house, +and through a sheltering pergola to a side door. "I +got hold of the key, and it's open," he signified, +meaning the door. "Can you find your way in the +dark on the inside?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly," was the whispered reply; and then +the lineman guide got his further orders: "Go back +to the car and see that nobody interferes with it, +Jackson." Then, when the man had disappeared in +the tree shadows, the little lady turned short upon +Blount. "I am going to take you where you can +see and hear, but you must promise me not to interfere +unless it becomes perfectly plain that your +father needs you. Is it a bargain?"</p> + +<p>"It is—if you'll allow me to be the judge of the +need."</p> + +<p>She laughed softly. "You are simply incorrigible, +and I should think there would be times when Patricia +would be tempted to stick pins into you," she +mocked. Then: "Come on; we are wasting time," +and, entering the house, she took his hand and led +him through a dark passage, up a stair, through +another passage into a long, low-pitched room, bare +and empty save for a great pyramid of dining-tables +and chairs piled in the middle of it, and lastly through +a cautiously opened door which admitted a flood of +yellow lamp-light from below.</p> + +<p>"The musicians' gallery," she whispered. "Go +to the screen and look down, but for Heaven's sake, +don't make any noise!"</p> + +<p>Blount obeyed mechanically. The orchestra gallery, +screened on three sides by an open fretwork of +Moorish design, was built out from the wall of the +dining-room, and through the latticings of the fretwork +he could look down upon the oblong lobby of +the resort hotel. There was a table-desk with lamps +on it drawn out in front of a cheerful wood-fire +burning in a great stone fireplace, and in front of +the fire, standing with his back to the blaze, Blount +saw his father. From a lighted room at the opposite +end of the lobby space came a confused clattering +of telegraph instruments. Blount caught a glimpse +of shirt-sleeved clerks moving about in the room +beyond, and then a door opened beneath him and +the vice-president of the Transcontinental Company +strode out into the firelight to shake hands with his +visitor and to say: "I've been looking for you; I +thought you'd come in out of the wet before it was +too late, David. Sit down and tell me how much +you're going to bleed us for, and I'll make out the +check."</p> + +<p>With a cold hand gripping at his heart, Blount +turned away, sick and revolted, and there was a +curse on his lips for the cruelty of the woman who +had brought him to be a witness to his father's +shame. But when he groped for the door of egress +and found it, the knob refused to turn. The door +was locked and he could not retreat.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXX" id="XXX"></a>XXX</h2> + +<h3>THE RECKONING</h3> + + +<p>Evan Blount's first impulse when he found his +retreat cut off by the locked door of the musicians' +gallery was to make his presence known instantly +to the two men standing before the fire in the lobby +below. Shame, vicarious shame for the father who +would thus find himself unmasked before his son, +was all that made him hesitate; and in the pausing +moment he heard his father's reply to the vice-president's +challenging greeting.</p> + +<p>"The same old song; always the same old song +with you, isn't it, Hardwick?" the senator was saying +in jocose deprecation. "What money can't +buy, isn't worth having; that's about the way you +fellows always stack it up." Then, with sudden +grimness: "Sit down, Hardwick. I've come to say +a few things to you that won't listen very good, but +you've got to take your medicine this time."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" demanded the vice-president, +dropping mechanically into his desk-chair. And then: +"It's no use, David. We've beat you at your own +game. We're going to roll up a majority next Tuesday +that will wipe you and your broken-down machine +out of existence. Don't you believe it?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet—not quite yet" was the mild rejoinder.</p> + +<p>"Well, you'd better believe it, because it's the +truth. You are down and out. I had you beat, +David, that night last summer when you gave me +your 'de-fi' and I came back by taking your son +away from you. The young gentleman you were +going to spring on us for your next attorney-general +has done more than any other one man in the campaign +to help our lame dog over the stile."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the big man, sunning his back at the +fire, "that is one of the things we're going to flail +out right here and now, Hardwick; about the boy +and what he's been doing. You told him to go out +and preach the good, clean gospel of the square deal, +didn't you?"</p> + +<p>It was at this point that the listener in the musicians' +gallery, a prey to tumultuous emotions which +were making the freshly healing wound in his head +throb like a trip-hammer, lost all of his compunctions +and drew closer to the fretwork screen.</p> + +<p>"He didn't need any special instructions," was +the vice-president's rejoinder, and his tone chimed +in with the hard-bitted smile. "Now that it is all +over, I don't mind telling you that he mapped the +thing out for himself, and all we had to do was to +sit tight and give him plenty of rope. Candidly, +David, I don't believe I'm hardened enough to play +the game as it ought to be played out here in the +sage-brush hills. The young fellow's sincerity came +pretty near getting away with me when I saw how +ridiculously in earnest he was."</p> + +<p>"Yet you let him go on, putting himself deeper +and deeper in the hole every time he stood up before +an audience, and you never said a word—never gave +him a hint that you were not going to back him up +in everything he was saying?"</p> + +<p>This time the hard-bitted smile broke into a +laugh.</p> + +<p>"Let's get down to business, David. You wouldn't +expect us to throw the game away when somebody +was trying his best to put the winning card into our +hands. We needn't dig back into the campaign for +something to jangle over, you and I. We can come +right down to the present moment. You're cornered, +but I don't deny that you've still got a few votes to +dispose of. How much do you want for them?"</p> + +<p>Blount saw his father take a step forward, and +for a flitting instant he thought there would be violence. +But apparently nothing was farther from the +senator's intention.</p> + +<p>"I'm not selling to-night, Hardwick; I'm buying," +he said, with the good-natured smile wrinkling at +the corners of his eyes. "I want to know how much +you'll take to clean up right where you are and +make my boy's word good to the people of this +State."</p> + +<p>Mr. McVickar turned to his table-desk and took +up a sheaf of telegrams.</p> + +<p>"I'm a pretty busy man this evening, David; and +if you haven't anything better than that to offer—"</p> + +<p>"You've got a lot of crooked deals out—special +rates and rebates and such things; the boy believed +you were going to call them all off and be good, +Hardwick."</p> + +<p>The vice-president laid the telegrams aside and +turned back again with the air of a man determined +to sweep away all the obstructions at one shrewd +push.</p> + +<p>"You're wasting your time and mine; let's get +down to business," he snapped. "Some little time +ago your son began to urge this same 'reform measure,' +as he termed it. I believe he even went so +far as to threaten Gantry and Kittredge with the +publication of certain private letters from our patrons, +letters written to him in his capacity of field +campaigner for our company. I don't suppose he +really meant to do any such disloyal thing as that, +but—"</p> + +<p>"But to make sure he wouldn't, you had one of +your hired shadow-men blow up his safe and steal +the letters," put in the senator mildly. "That was +prudent, Hardwick. I was a little scared up myself +for fear Evan might get real good and mad, and let +the cat out of the bag; I was, for a fact."</p> + +<p>"Without admitting the safe-blowing, I may say +that the letters were destroyed, and our friends were +advised to be a little more conservative in their correspondence. +That settles the 'reform measure' incident +and brings us down to the present argument. +If you are not here to get in line with us, what did +you come for?"</p> + +<p>"I came to give you one more chance to be decent, +Hardwick; just—one—more—last—chance."</p> + +<p>"David, there are times when you make me tired, +and this is one of them. For years you've held us +up and dictated to us; but this time we've got you +by the neck. Did you ever happen to hear of a fellow +named Thomas Gryson?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I've heard of him. I believe he has +been on your pay-rolls for a while—notwithstanding +the fact that he is an escaped criminal," was the +shrewd counter-thrust.</p> + +<p>"He's a scoundrel; we'll admit that. Just the +same, your son hired him to go out and get evidence +in a certain matter of alleged crookedness in the +registration lists. He got it, and delivered the papers +to your son last night. Some of those affidavits incriminate +you, David. If we wanted to use them, +we could send you to the penitentiary, right here in +your own State."</p> + +<p>The senator drew up a mock-Sheraton arm-chair +and lowered his huge frame gently into it.</p> + +<p>"In order to use those papers against me you'd +first have to get hold of them, wouldn't you, Hardwick?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"We have them," was the terse assertion.</p> + +<p>The Honorable David's chuckle rumbled deep in +his capacious chest.</p> + +<p>"Barto phoned you an hour or so ago that he +had 'em, but, owing to circumstances over which he +had no control, he couldn't deliver 'em to you until +to-morrow morning. Isn't that about the way it +shapes up?"</p> + +<p>The vice-president's frown marked an added degree +of irritation. "So you have a cut-in on my +telephone wire, have you?" he rasped.</p> + +<p>The senator leaned forward and laid a forefinger +on the vice-presidential knee.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Hardwick," he said. "I dictated that +phone message to you, and Barto repeated it word +for word because he had to—I reckon maybe it was +because one of my men was holding a gun to his +other ear while he talked to you. The little hold-up +that you planned this afternoon didn't come off. +Barto lost out bad, and when we get around to +giving him the third degree, I shouldn't wonder if +he'd tell a whole lot of things that you wouldn't +want to see printed in the newspapers."</p> + +<p>Mr. McVickar sprang out of his chair with an +agility surprising in so heavy a man, crossed to the +open door of the room where his clerical force was +at work, and slammed it shut. When he returned, +he was no longer the confident tyrant of foregone +conclusions.</p> + +<p>"Where are those papers now, Blount?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"They are in the hands of Chief Justice Hemingway, +for investigation and such action as he and his +colleagues on the Supreme Court bench see fit to +take."</p> + +<p>"Good God! Your son did that, knowing that you +are as deep in the mud as we are in the mire?"</p> + +<p>"I reckon he did, so. That boy is all wool and a +yard wide. He thought he was putting me in the +hole, too, along with Kittredge and your railroad +crooks, and it came mighty near tearing him in two. +But he did it. You haven't been more than half-appreciating +that boy, Hardwick."</p> + +<p>"'He thought,' you say; isn't it the fact that you +are in the hole, David?"</p> + +<p>The senator reached over, took one of the gigantic +McVickar cigars from the open box on the desk, and +calmly lighted it.</p> + +<p>"You're a pretty hard man to convince, Hardwick," +he said slowly, when the big cigar was filling +the air of the lobby with its fragrance. "Away along +back at the beginning of this fight I told you what +I was aiming to do, and why. You wouldn't believe +it then, and you don't want to believe it now; but +that's because you don't happen to have a son of +your own. When that boy of mine wired me that +he was coming out here to get into the harness, I +began to turn over the leaves of the record and look +back a little. It was a mighty dirty record, McVickar. +I don't know that I'm any better man +now than I was in the days when we made that +record—you and I—but when I looked it over, it +struck me all in a heap that I'd have to get out the +bucket and scrubbing-brush if I didn't want to make +a clean-hearted, clean-minded boy plumb ashamed +of his old daddy."</p> + +<p>"But, say—you haven't quit your scheming for a +single minute, Blount!" retorted the railroad tyrant. +"You are just as much the boss of the machine to-day +as you've ever been!"</p> + +<p>"I reckon, that's so, too," was the measured reply. +"But there's just this one little difference, +Hardwick: a machine, in a factory or in politics, +is a mighty necessary thing, and we wouldn't get +very far nowadays without it. Here in America +we're just coming to learn that machine politics—which +is sometimes only another name for intelligent +organization—needn't be bad politics unless we +make 'em bad. To put it another way, the machine +will grind corn or clean up the streets and alleys +just as easily as it will grind up men and principles."</p> + +<p>The vice-president made a gesture of impatience.</p> + +<p>"Come to the point," he urged. "Do you mean +to tell me that you can face an investigation by the +Supreme Court?"</p> + +<p>"For this one time, Hardwick, I can. For this +one time in the history of the Sage-Brush State, the +slate—the machine slate—is as clean as the back of +your hand. When the court comes to investigate, +it will find that every crooked deal in this campaign +has had a railroad man or a corporation man at the +back of it. Let me tell you what's due to happen. +Chief Justice Hemingway had luncheon with me to-day, +and he came early enough to give me a quiet +hour before we went to table with the ladies. There +is going to be an investigation, and some sharp, +shrewd young lawyer is going to be appointed by +the court to take evidence. When this young man +gets to work, every wheel in the machine is going +to roll his way. Every bribe you've offered and +paid, every false name you've put on the registration +lists, every deal you've made with men like +Pete Hathaway and McDarragh, has had its witnesses, +and by the gods, Hardwick, they'll testify—every +man of them!"</p> + +<p>Again the vice-president sprang from his chair, +but this time it was to walk the floor with his head +bowed and his hands in his pockets. The listener +in the musicians' gallery found a seat and sat down to +let the intoxicating, overwhelming joy of it all have +its will of him. In the fulness of time the tramping +magnate who had been so crushingly out-generalled +in his own chosen field came to stand before the big +man, who was still quietly smoking in the sham-Sheraton +arm-chair.</p> + +<p>"You spoke of the appointment of a special prosecuting +attorney, David," he said in a harsh monotone. +"Who will it be?"</p> + +<p>"You've guessed it already, I reckon. It'll be +the boy, Hardwick. Hemingway will appoint him +if he is willing to serve."</p> + +<p>"He's taken our retainer!" snapped the vice-president.</p> + +<p>"Not much, he hasn't! you hired him for wages, +and if he wants to resign—he has resigned, by the way—and +take another job, I reckon he can do it without +breaking any of the Ten Commandments."</p> + +<p>"We can't stand for that—you know we can't."</p> + +<p>"No; I don't think you can—not as a corporation. +Besides the flock of witnesses that we can +drum up, he'll have those letters that we were talking +about a while back. You missed fire on that, too, +Hardwick. What your man dynamited out of Evan's +office safe, and what you destroyed, were only clever +copies. The real letters were stolen by the boy's +friends, and little as you may believe it, the object of +that theft was to give you this last chance. The boy +was mighty hot under the collar, and we couldn't be +sure that he wouldn't start the fireworks before the +band was ready to play. He would have started +them, too, if his match hadn't been taken away from +him."</p> + +<p>Mr. McVickar walked around the other end of the +table-desk and sat down heavily.</p> + +<p>"You've spoken twice of a 'last chance' David," +he said grittingly. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>"It's the chance I gave you in the beginning. +First, let me tell you what I reckon you're already +admitting. You're whipped, Hardwick; your slate's +broken, and your man Reynolds hasn't a ghost of a +show—he nor any of the others on your string. You +haven't made a move that we haven't caught onto +just about as soon as you put your fingers on the +piece you meant to move. For instance, that little +box up there in the beaming just over your head—the +one that looks as if it were a part of the house +electric installation—is a microphone, and one of +your own men helped to put it up. We've got +copies of every letter and telegram you've dictated +since you had this desk dragged out here a week ago +Saturday."</p> + +<p>"I'm taking all that for granted," was the curt +admission.</p> + +<p>"Then we'll come down to the nib of the thing +and put you out of your misery. You've got two +things to do—just two, Hardwick. One of 'em is +to clean house and make a good job of it, just like +you let Evan believe you were going to do when you +sent him out to tell the people of this State a lot of +things that you didn't mean to have come true; cut +out all the deals, all the private tariffs, all the little +preferentials and palm-warmings. When you've +done that, you'll find that the other thing will +mighty nearly do itself."</p> + +<p>"Name it," rasped the magnate.</p> + +<p>"It's just merely to take your railroad out of +politics in this State, and keep it out. We've had +enough of you, McVickar, and more than enough. +Is it a bargain?"</p> + +<p>"It's a damned one-sided bargain thus far, Blount. +What do we get for all this?"</p> + +<p>Again the senator chuckled genially. "You may +not believe it, but we're going to let you down easy. +You do these two things that I've mentioned, and +get rid of Kittredge and a few others that have been +caught red-handed, and the Supreme Court investigation +won't touch your railroad as a corporation—in +other words, it'll go after individuals. But +you've got to play fair, you know—and bring forth +fruits meet for repentance, before the fact. How +does that strike you?"</p> + +<p>Again the vice-president got up to walk the floor, +but this time the deliberative interval was shorter.</p> + +<p>"What is the political programme, as you have it +figured out, David?" he asked presently.</p> + +<p>"It'll be a landslide for us, as I have told you. +Gordon will go in by the biggest majority that has +ever been rolled up in this State. Dortscher will +succeed himself as attorney-general; and by and by, +after things have quieted down, he will resign. That +will give Gordon the appointment of his successor, +and I'm thinking it might be a pretty good thing +for you, as well as for the people of the State, if +Alec should happen to pick out a bright young fellow +who knows your side of the question as well as +the people's, and who is square enough to give you +a fair show when it comes to framing up any new +railroad legislation."</p> + +<p>"That will be your son, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"If he'll take it," was the imperturbable rejoinder.</p> + +<p>For the third time the vice-president, dying hard, +as befitted him, deliberated thoughtfully. At the +end of the thoughtful interval he took a cigar from +the open box and clamped it between his teeth.</p> + +<p>"We trade," he said shortly. And then: "How +will you take it—in stock or bonds?"</p> + +<p>The Honorable David rose slowly and snapped +the cigar ash into the fire.</p> + +<p>"I'm right sorry, Hardwick, but this is one time +when I reckon we'll have to have what you might +call the spot cash. Promises don't go. You're too +good a fighter to be allowed to get up merely because +you've hollered 'enough.' Come on into your +telegraph-shop and let me hear you dictate that +string of 'come-off' orders. Then we'll drive to +town in my road-car, and you can tip off Kittredge +and a few of the other prominent victims by word of +mouth, as you'll most likely want to."</p> + +<p>For a full minute after the two had left the lobby +together Evan Blount sat motionless in the screened +orchestra gallery. Then he got up and groped once +more for the door-knob. It yielded at his touch, and +in the semi-darkness beyond the opening he saw his +father's wife with her arms upstretched to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Evan, dear—am I forgiven?" she asked +softly.</p> + +<p>"Little mother!" he said, and then he took her +face between his hands and kissed her.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>When the Honorable David Blount reached the +city an hour or more later, and had dropped his passenger +at the Railway Club, he found his son waiting +for him in the otherwise deserted sitting-room +of the Inter-Mountain private suite.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't sleep without telling you first, dad," +the waiting one broke out. "I've been eavesdropping; +I was a listener, unwilling at first, but not +afterward, to everything that was said an hour or +so ago in the lobby of the little hotel at the head of +Shonoho. Do I need to tell you in so many words +how deep the plough has gone?"</p> + +<p>"I reckon not," was the gentle reply. "Neither +do you need to tell me how you came to be out at +Shonoho when I thought I'd left you tied hand and +foot right here in the hotel." Then, with the quizzical +smile wrinkling at the corners of the grave +eyes: "How does the political wrestle strike you by +this time, son?"</p> + +<p>"It strikes me that I haven't been in it; not even +in the outer edges of it. Isn't that about the size +of it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; you've been doing good work, mighty +good work. You've helped out in the only way +that help could come in this campaign; you've +stirred up a good, healthy public sentiment in favor +of a square deal for everybody. McVickar was fixing +to tangle it all up—get the people down on him +until they'd simply legislate the life out of his railroad. +But he couldn't see that."</p> + +<p>"He sees it now—the 'machine' has made him +see it."</p> + +<p>"Yes. You didn't know that a machine could be +put to any really righteous use, did you, boy? But +in this campaign it has gone in to knock out the +crookedness, big <i>and</i> little. Listen, son; you heard +what I told McVickar. After you'd sent me that +wire from Boston last summer, saying you'd come, +I lay awake nights projecting how I'd put you in +training for a spell, and then help you into the saddle +and make you the boss of the round-up, the same +as I'd been. Then it came over me, all of a sudden, +that I'd been as crooked as a dog's hind leg—that +we'd all been crooked. Not that I've ever taken a +dollar for my personal pocket, for I haven't; but I've +bought and sold and dickered and schemed with +the best of 'em, and the worst of 'em. On top of +that, I began to ask myself how I'd like it to see +you wallowing in the same old mud-hole, and—well, +Evan, boy, you may have a son of your own some +day, and then you'll know. I let things rock along +until you came; until that first day at Wartrace +when you ripped out at me about hewing to the +line. Right then and there I made up my mind +that I'd put the whole power of the 'machine,' as +you call it, into one campaign for a clean election +and a square deal."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good Lord!" ejaculated the son, "and I've +been fighting you and your organization at every +turn!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, you haven't," was the quick rejoinder.</p> + +<p>"You've been fighting graft and crookedness, and +that's what you thought you were hired to do. As +you know now, McVickar wasn't playing quite fair +with you. Just the same, you've been in the hands +of your friends, right from the start. It's the organization +that's been giving you all these chances +to preach the gospel of the square deal; it was a +shrewd little captain-general of the organization +who pushed Hathaway up against you to let you +know that the railroad people were running around +in the same old circles—hollering for justice, and +doing everything under the sun to defeat the ends +of justice—muddying the spring because, they say, +they don't know what else to do. And, by the way, +it was that same little captain-general who put you +up against the real thing to-night, without telling +me or anybody else what she was going to do."</p> + +<p>The younger man left his chair to go to one of the +windows where he stood for a moment or two looking +down upon the street-lights. When he turned, +it was to say: "I'm with you, dad, heart and soul. +But you won't mind my saying that I'm still a little +bit afraid that you and your kind are a menace to +civilization and a free government. You'll let me +hang on to that much of my prejudice, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Sure! Hang on to anything you like, son, and +say anything you like. Or, rather, let me say something +first. How about this 'career' business of +Patricia's? Have you fixed that up yet?"</p> + +<p>Blount shook his head. "She's going home with +her father next week," he said. And then: "Do +you know what she did to-day, dad? She ran the +little red car into that pine-tree intentionally—so +I couldn't get back here in time to give Judge Hemingway +those affidavits, which we both supposed +would incriminate you."</p> + +<p>"Well, God bless her loyal little soul!" exclaimed +the Honorable David, and the grave eyes were suspiciously +bright. "I hadn't told her a word of what +I was trying to do; but, Lord love you, Evan, she +knew: you trust a good woman for knowing, every +time, son. And now one more thing: Have you +come to know Honoria any better in these last few +days?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; much better, within the last few hours, +dad."</p> + +<p>"That's good; that does my old heart a heap of +good, son! Now then, you go straight off to bed +and sleep up some. You've had a mighty hard day +for a sick man. To-morrow morning we'll drive out +to Wartrace and get ready to touch off the fireworks +when the returns trickle in on Tuesday. I tell you, +boy, Tuesday's election is going to be a regular old-fashioned, +heave-'em-up and keep-'em-a-going land-slide! +Good-night, and good dreams—if that cracked +head doesn't go and roil 'em all up for you."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXXI" id="XXXI"></a>XXXI</h2> + +<h3><i>À LA BONNE HEURE</i></h3> + + +<p>By some law of contraries, whose workings not +even the politically profound can fathom, the election +proved the truth of the adage that all signs +fail in a dry time by recording itself as one of the +quietest and most orderly ever known in the Sage-Brush +State. A few editors there were, like Blenkinsop, +of <i>The Plainsman</i>, who maintained stoutly +that it sounded the death-knell of the machine, +but there was no gainsaying the result. The "Paramounters" +ticket, with or without the help of the +machine, was elected by sweeping majorities everywhere; +and Gantry, roaming the corridors and lounging-rooms +of the Railway Club and reading the +bulletins as they were posted, shook his head despairingly +over each fresh announcement.</p> + +<p>Late in the evening, finding that the senator's +party had left the Inter-Mountain the day before to +drive to Wartrace, the traffic manager called up the +Quaretaro Mesa country-house and poured the news +of the <i>débâcle</i> into Evan Blount's ear.</p> + +<p>"We've gone to the everlasting bow-wows, and +Mr. McVickar has disappeared, and the end of the +world has come," was the way he phrased it for the +listening ear; but the word which came back must +have been peculiarly heartening, since from that time +on to an hour well past midnight Gantry figured +hilariously as the self-constituted host of any and all +who would be entertained.</p> + +<p>At Wartrace Hall there was also rejoicing, albeit +of a quieter sort. Five people sat around the cheerful +blaze in the library, and when Crowell, whose +telegraph instrument was in the adjoining den, had +brought the final report from the outlying wards of +the capital, he was told to close his key and go to +bed.</p> + +<p>After the young man had withdrawn, the Honorable +David rose to stand with his back to the fire.</p> + +<p>"Well, Evan, boy, are all the tangles straightened +out for you for keeps, now?" he asked jovially.</p> + +<p>"Just about all of them, dad," laughed the younger +man. He had been spending a very happy evening, +due less to the triumphant story which had been +pouring in over the wires than to the fact that Patricia +had been occupying the other half of the small +sofa which he had dragged out to face the fire.</p> + +<p>"Don't feel sore because you didn't get the +governor you thought you were going to get when +you went around preaching the gospel?" said the +father, still chuckling.</p> + +<p>"We've got a better man and a bigger one, I'm +sure," was the quick reply. Then he added: "But +I think I am still doubtful about the advisability of +injecting the machine principle into politics."</p> + +<p>The senator laughed silently.</p> + +<p>"Call it 'the organization' instead of 'the machine,' +son, and you've named the power that moves +the civilized world to-day. Man, the individual, is +just about as helpless as a new-born baby. If you +want to reform anything, from an unjust poor-law +to the tariff, your first move is to rustle up a following; +after that, you've got to solidify your bunch +of sympathizers into a working organization—in +other words, into a machine. Isn't that so, Professor +Anners?"</p> + +<p>The white-haired professor of palæontology nodded +sleepily. He had been dreaming of the Megalosauridæ, +and had not heard the question.</p> + +<p>"You've heard me called 'the boss' from the time +Dick Gantry had his first talk with you back yonder +in Massachusetts," the senator went on, turning again +to his son. "Call me a man with friends enough to +make me a sort of foreman of round-ups in the old +home State, and you've got it about right. I don't +say that I've always used the power as it ought to +be used; the good Lord knows, I'm no more infallible +than other folks. You've gone through a heap of +trouble and worry because you thought, when you +got ready to knock the wedge out of the log, my +fingers were going to get caught in the split, along +with a lot of others. That would have been true +enough any other year but this, I reckon, so you +didn't have your fight and your worry for nothing. +I've bought and trafficked and bargained and compromised—I +don't deny that—but only when it +seemed as though the end justified the means. +Maybe the end never does justify the means—I'm +open to conviction on that. But sometimes it's +mighty easy to persuade yourself that it does."</p> + +<p>It was just here that the professor awoke with a +start and a snort, excused himself abruptly, and +stumped off to bed. Mrs. Honoria, sitting under the +drop-light and stitching patiently at her bit of +stretched linen, laid the tiny embroidery-hoop aside, +signalled to her husband, and vanished in her turn. +A few minutes after she had gone, the senator +crossed from his corner of the fireplace to stand +before the two sitting on the little sofa.</p> + +<p>"Son," he said gravely, "you've got your work +cut out for you from this on, and it's a good-sized +job. You're going to have a string of hard fights, +one after the other, and there'll be times when you'll +long with all your soul for some good, clean-hearted, +bright-minded little girl to go to for comfort and +counsel. Of course, I know that Patricia, here, has +another job, but—"</p> + +<p>The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush had been out +of sight and hearing for five full minutes when Evan +Blount reached over and possessed himself of the +hand that was shading a pair of deep-welled eyes +from the firelight.</p> + +<p>"Last Sunday afternoon, Patricia, when I had +right and reason and logic on my side, your woman's +intuition found the truer path," he said, in sober +humility. "I know I am only one, and your poor +people to whom you have been planning to give +yourself are many; still, I am selfish enough to—"</p> + +<p>She looked up quickly and the deep-welled eyes +were shining.</p> + +<p>"We can't learn everything all at once, Evan, +dear," she interrupted, breaking in upon his pleading. +"There was one moment in that Sunday afternoon +when I learned the greatest thing of all; it +was the moment when I saw the pine-tree lying +across the road and knew what I should do, and for +whom I should do it."</p> + +<p>"I know," he returned gently. "You learned +that love is stronger than death or the fear of death; +and that loyalty is greater than many ideals. You +heard what my father said just now, and it is true—only +he didn't put it half vitally enough; I can't +walk in the way he has marked out for me without +you, Patricia."</p> + +<p>With a swift little love impulse she lifted his hand +and pressed it to her cheek.</p> + +<p>"You needn't, Evan, dear," she said simply.</p> + +<p>THE END</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p><br /></p> +<p>[Transcriber's Note: This section was originally at the beginning of the text.]<br /></p> +<p class="padtop left">BOOKS BY FRANCIS LYNDE</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Published by</span> CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</p> + +<p class="padtop"> +The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">12mo <i>net</i> $1.30</span><br /> +<br /> +Scientific Sprague. Illus. 12mo <i>net</i> $1.25<br /> +<br /> +The Price. 12mo <i>net</i> $1.30<br /> +<br /> +The Taming of Red Butte Western.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Illus. 12mo $1.50</span><br /> +<br /> +The King of Arcadia. Illus. 12mo $1.50<br /> +<br /> +A Romance in Transit. 16mo .75<br /> +</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush, by Francis Lynde + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HONORABLE SENATOR SAGE-BRUSH *** + +***** This file should be named 16573-h.htm or 16573-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/7/16573/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Stacy Brown Thellend and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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