i 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 V 
 
 
 r r r
 
 BEN B. IINDSEY
 
 THE PRICE OF PLACE
 
 The Price 
 of Place 
 
 BY 
 
 SAMUEL G. BLYTHE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
 
 COPYRIGHT, 
 BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 
 BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
 
 PS 
 
 TO 
 AUNTIE 
 
 .T
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I "PLAY THE GAME" .TV. 3 
 
 II THE FUTURE OPENS 17 
 
 III THE FIRST: "WHY NOT?" . 24 
 
 IV ANOTHER RUBE CONGRESSSMAN 33 
 
 V "TAKE D. C." 43 
 
 VI THE FIRST RECEPTION 53 
 
 VII NOTHING FIT TO WEAR 66 
 
 VIII THE OBLIGING BANKER .... . ... 79 
 
 IX SQUEEZED * .... 92 
 
 X SOCIAL ADVANCES 103 
 
 XI THE BOLT 119 
 
 XII A LITTLE DINNER PARTY 133 
 
 XIII EASY MONEY 147 
 
 XIV "B E Boss YOURSELF" 162 
 
 XV THE SPLIT WITH McMANus 173 
 
 XVI TREVELYAN S TROUSERS 182 
 
 XVII THE STUPIDITY OF STROWLSKI 189 
 
 XVIII MRS. MARSH S DINNER 202 
 
 XIX HOOKED 214 
 
 XX THE ATLAS LAND COMPANY 226 
 
 XXI THE CLIMBER CLIMBS 234 
 
 XXII TOM DARLINGTON ENTERS 248 
 
 XXIII IN SIGHT OF A TOGA 256 
 
 XXIV SENATOR JAMES MARSH OR CHAINS OF GOLD . . 267 
 XXV THE DEBUT OF DOROTHY 274 
 
 XXVI SANTA CLAUS ARRIVES 284 
 
 XXVII A SUITABLE ALLIANCE 295 
 
 XXVIII A LEGAL RETAINER 306 
 
 XXIX " ASK ME AGAIN" 318 
 
 XXX THE WEDDING 328 
 
 XXXI A VISION OF POWER 34 
 
 XXXII SHACKLED OR THE END OF THE DREAM . . . .353
 
 THE PRICE OF PLACE
 
 The Price of 
 
 PLAY THE GAME 
 
 H 
 
 does it look, Charley?" Bob Me- 
 Manus asked, leaning over the table 
 where Charley Caulkins was figuring 
 the percentages on the election 
 returns coming in over the wire. 
 
 " All right," Caulkins answered rather gruffly, 
 for it was the one time in the year when he could 
 be gruff with the boss. On all other occasions 
 Caulkins was an obsequious assistant cashier in 
 the First National Bank of Morganville. On 
 election nights he was the indispensable man who 
 could handle the returns quickly and accurately, 
 and who could get the ratios of gain or loss before 
 the others had the figures written down. Every 
 county seat has a Caulkins. 
 
 Bob McManus was vitally interested in this 
 election. He was the Republican boss of Green- 
 
 3
 
 4 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 field County. His influence extended out into 
 the district and he dominated some of the other 
 counties also. He was a contractor and real- 
 estate dealer, who couldn t be elected to an office 
 himself because of a general distrust of his 
 methods and morals; but no candidate could be 
 elected without the support of McManus and his 
 organisation. McManus would have given half 
 his fortune for popular recognition in the way of 
 an elective office, but he knew what would happen 
 to him if he went before the people. So he bossed 
 the organisation, dictated the nominations, and 
 took his preferment in the way of appointive 
 offices and receiverships and other patronage dis 
 tributed by the bigger bosses of the state and 
 nation. 
 
 " Give us the dope," he insisted. 
 
 "Well," said Caulkins, "listen to this: Lin 
 coln County, with twenty precincts missing, gives 
 Marsh 2245 and Bolus 1762, Same precincts two 
 years ago gave Hawkins 1936 and Bolus 1834. 
 
 " It s a cinch," commented McManus, " for 
 Grant and Sheridan and Colby will do as well." 
 
 " Don t be too sure," cautioned Caulkins. 
 " Two years ago we thought it was a pipe, and 
 Bolus nosed in." 
 
 That was the fact. After remaining stead 
 fastly Republican, so far as its representation in 
 Congress went, for twenty years, the fifteenth dis 
 trict suddenly became Democratic. Judge William 
 Godfrey Bolus, a Democrat, defeated Colonel 
 Charles P. Hawkins, an old soldier and a repre-
 
 " PLAY THE GAME " 5 
 
 sentative for six terms, who was beginning 
 to think there was something in the Consti 
 tution that gave him his place. It was one 
 of those odd political shifts that come now 
 and then, and are mainly the result of a 
 protest against local conditions or of a wider 
 revolt against party domination or party crimes. 
 The fifteenth district was normally Republican 
 by about twelve hundred votes. McManus, in a 
 desperate effort to regain control, had selected 
 and nominated James Marsh, a Morganville law 
 yer, to make the fight against Bolus. Marsh was 
 his strongest man. 
 
 The telegraph instrument clicked ceaselessly. 
 Tom Johnson, the operator, who was taking the 
 returns over the loop the telegraph company had 
 run into the back room of the country head 
 quarters McManus room handed Caulkins 
 another bulletin. 
 
 " It s getting where it was four years ago," an 
 nounced Caulkins. " The north towns are doing 
 well and Grant and Colby are holding strong." 
 
 "What s the percentage?" asked McManus. 
 
 " It s a gain of about forty to the precinct for 
 Marsh," Caulkins replied. "That ll pull him 
 through." 
 
 The headquarters were on the second floor of 
 the Bixby block on the main street of Morgan 
 ville. Most of the members of the county com 
 mittee, a few of the candidates and some of the 
 party leaders had gathered in the inner office. 
 The big room outside was crowded with men who
 
 6 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 were politicians, men who thought they were poli 
 ticians, party workers, district leaders, precinct 
 captains, and a large number of citizens who were 
 interested in the outcome of the voting. All of 
 them were smoking, and most of them smoked 
 bad cigars. The air was thick and heavy, the men 
 jostled back and forth, talking, commenting, 
 loudly proclaiming their foreknowledge of what 
 had happened. Each man exalted his political 
 prescience, and listened impatiently to claims made 
 by others of expert analyses of conditions weeks be 
 fore the test. Each man desired to get credit for 
 wisdom, to boast of it, and they all chattered and 
 bragged and assumed self-satisfied poses and 
 nodded sagely when the bulletins were read. 
 Not a man was in the place, apparently, who had 
 not known weeks beforehand what the result 
 would be. 
 
 After Caulkins ha d finished with the bulletins 
 he handed them to Jack Merrit, the secretary of 
 the committee, who hastened to declaim the news 
 to the crowd. Every time Merrit appeared in 
 the doorway between the inner office and the room 
 outside there was an instant hush. He rasped 
 off the returns in a harsh voice and dodged back, 
 and the place immediately became clamorous with 
 loud comment on the results that had been com 
 municated. There were many amateur figurers 
 out there, but they were not expert enough to have 
 a percentage before Merrit appeared again and 
 upset all their calculations with his fresh batch of 
 information.
 
 " PLAY THE GAME " 7 
 
 At ten o clock the complete returns from Grant 
 and Colby counties were in. McManus sat down 
 and wrote a telegram to the state chairman saying 
 Marsh was elected, and another to the leading 
 Republican paper in the city fifty miles away which 
 said: "Robert H. McManus, the Republican 
 leader of the fifteenth district, claims the election 
 of James Marsh to Congress by eight hundred 
 plurality." 
 
 " It ll be a thousand," said Caulkins. 
 
 " Oh, well," McManus replied, " that will 
 make it all the better for another dispatch later 
 on." 
 
 Jack Merrit read the leader s dispatch to the 
 crowd outside. There was some cheering. 
 Most of those in the big room began to move to 
 ward the door. 
 
 " Hold on ! " ordered a big red-faced man who 
 had been loud in his praise of his own prognosti 
 cations. "What s the yank? Where s Marsh? " 
 
 " That s so," said another in the crowd. 
 "Where is Marsh?" 
 
 "Marsh!" they shouted. "Come on out, 
 Jim, and let s see you." 
 
 "Marsh!" 
 
 " Hey, Jim, don t be so bashful I " 
 
 "Speech!" 
 
 " Speech ! " 
 
 " Come on, Jim; you ain t an honorable yet and 
 can afford to associate with us for a while." 
 
 McManus turned to a man of forty who had 
 been moving about the inner room since early in
 
 8 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 the evening, chewing a cigar which he lighted and 
 nervously relighted and then as nervously neg 
 lected to keep lighted; a man of good stature, 
 with a broad spread of shoulder, about twenty 
 pounds too much weight round the paunch, which 
 showed, even under the protecting shadow of his 
 deep chest, a clean-shaven face, heavy lips, large 
 eyes set far apart beneath a high and broad fore 
 head, and a great quantity of thick, black hair, 
 that was brushed straight back and was worn long 
 behind. He was an average man, as men go, 
 with no marked characteristic, facial or otherwise, 
 until he smiled. Then he seemed to be exceed 
 ingly good-natured and his face lighted up pleas 
 antly. 
 
 " Go ahead, Jim," said McManus. " Go out 
 there and make a talk to that gang or they ll never 
 go home." 
 
 " All right," Marsh assented, and he threw 
 away his soggy cigar and went into the other 
 room. 
 
 " Rah for Marsh ! " a few shouted. Others 
 clapped their hands. They all turned toward the 
 doorway where Marsh was standing. 
 
 " My friends," Marsh began, " I " 
 
 " Git up on a chair! " the red-faced man yelled. 
 
 Marsh obediently clambered on a chair. He 
 held up his hand for quiet after the manner of 
 the stump speaker, and began again: " My 
 friends " 
 
 " Good boy, Jim! " shouted an enthusiast. "I 
 knew you d skin em."
 
 " PLAY THE GAME " 9 
 
 "My friends " 
 
 " Rah for Jim Marsh, next congressman from 
 the good old fifteenth ! " came from the rear of 
 the room. 
 
 " Aw, dry up ! " commanded a patriot who was 
 eager to hear. " Lettim talk." 
 
 " Spit it out, Jiml" 
 
 "Go to it!" 
 
 " My friends," began Marsh again, smiling 
 down at the crowded room, " there isn t much a 
 man can say on an occasion like this, except to 
 express his thanks to those who stood by him so 
 loyally in the fight that has resulted in this great 
 victory for our party. And I do thank you, thank 
 you all from my heart, for your support " 
 
 " Good boy, Jim !" 
 
 " For your support, not only at the polls, 
 but during the hard campaign we had to make to 
 wrest the old fifteenth from the control of the 
 enemy. You have imposed a sacred trust in me. 
 You are sending me to Washington to take part in 
 the deliberations of Congress, and I want to 
 pledge you here again, as I have done on the 
 stump, that your confidence in me shall not be mis 
 placed, and that I shall work with an eye and a 
 heart and a hand single to your interests and to 
 the interests of the Grand Old Party which we all 
 love so well." 
 
 "That s the stuff, Jim! That s the pure 
 quill!" 
 
 " Once again the good old fifteenth will be rep 
 resented in the Halls of Congress by a Republican
 
 io THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 a real Republican you know the kind of a 
 Republican I am, boys? " 
 
 " Bet your life we do, Jim ! Whoop er up ! " 
 
 " And here and now I say to you that never 
 shall I be ungrateful for the honour you have be 
 stowed on me and never shall I prove unfaithful 
 to my trust. I thank you again; I need say no 
 more at this time. You are all my friends and 
 I want to shake hands with you before you go, 
 and express to you personally the deep and abid 
 ing gratitude I feel to you all. You represent the 
 people you are the people and the rights of 
 the people shall ever be my first concern." 
 
 " How about Bob McManus? " shouted a thin- 
 whiskered man who viewed the proceedings with 
 evident disapproval. 
 
 " The Honorable Robert H. McManus is my 
 friend, and I would be an ingrate indeed if I did 
 not acknowledge that here and my indebtedness 
 to him and to his great organisation for their part 
 in this victory. I feel that I am merely the instru 
 ment of the expressed will of the people " 
 
 "And Bob McManus!" interjected the thin- 
 whiskered man. 
 
 " Aw, cut it out ! " cautioned the red-faced 
 patriot. 
 
 " Merely an instrument for the expression 
 of the will of the people in governmental affairs, 
 but for all that I allow no man to question my 
 fealty of Bob McManus, who labored so earnestly 
 and so unselfishly in my behalf. Again from the 
 bottom of my heart I thank you."
 
 "PLAY THE GAME" n 
 
 McManus had entered the room. After 
 Marsh had finished he moved up to where Marsh 
 was standing and whispered: "Slough em off 
 as quick as you can. I want to have a talk with 
 you before you go home." 
 
 Marsh shook hands rapidly and received con 
 gratulations modestly. After the last man had 
 filed past him he returned to the inner room. The 
 floor was littered with paper containing the cal 
 culations of Caulkins and with crumpled bulletins. 
 The telegraph instrument was clicking spasmodic 
 ally. The air was murky with ill-smelling smoke. 
 Caulkins and a few others lingered, talking it 
 over with that curious insistence of repetition of 
 established fact that marks such conversations, 
 saying the same things again and again and assur 
 ing one another they had known all along that it 
 would be a walk-over. 
 
 " Boys," said McManus, " Jim and I want to 
 have a talk. Good-night." 
 
 Everybody left but Caulkins. " Say, Bob," he 
 said, " don t forget about making our bank a 
 national depository. Old Bolus got the treasurer 
 to take it away from us when he went in." 
 
 " I won t," McManus replied. " Good-night, 
 Charley; much obliged." 
 
 Caulkins fiddled round, loath to go. It was 
 his one important night in the year. 
 
 " Good-night, Charley," said McManus again 
 with abrupt finality. 
 
 " Good-night, Bob ; good-night, Jim. Don t
 
 12 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 forget about that depository business. Good 
 night." And he left slowly. 
 
 " Sit down," ordered McManus. 
 
 Marsh sat down in the chair Caulkins had occu 
 pied and twisted some sheets of yellow flimsy be 
 tween his fingers. 
 
 " Jim," said McManus, " you know who elected 
 you, don t you? " 
 
 " You did." 
 
 " Sure ! I was afraid you might forget it. 
 And you know who can beat you next time if you 
 don t play ball, don t you?" 
 
 " I suppose you can." 
 
 "No supposing about it; I can and I will, 
 too, if it seems necessary. Now I want to get 
 down to brass tacks to you." 
 
 " Go ahead." 
 
 " First, I ll tell you a few things about yourself. 
 You are forty-one years old, right in your prime, 
 and you ve wanted to go to Congress for the last 
 six or seven years. I ve been watching you, and 
 I picked you this time because I figured that you 
 and I could form a partnership and hold things 
 in this district for a good long time. You ve got 
 things I need and I ve got a whole heap you need, 
 and we can do business together or not as you 
 choose." 
 
 " I ll do anything I can, Bob." 
 
 " All right. Now, then, the reason I picked 
 you to go to Congress is because you are a good 
 lawyer, one of the strongest in the district, and be 
 cause you are far-and-away the best speaker in this
 
 " PLAY THE GAME " 13 
 
 part of the state. With a few years in Congress 
 and the experience and training you get there, I 
 can make you a big man, and perhaps get you the 
 governorship or send you to the United States 
 Senate." 
 
 " Do you think so, Bob? " asked Marsh, lean 
 ing forward and putting his hand on McManus 
 knee. 
 
 "Sure! Besides, your wife is ambitious, and 
 you ve got a daughter that ll be a crackerjack, and 
 maybe she s ambitious too. All you have to do, 
 Jim, is to remember where your obligation lies, 
 and not try to doublecross me or your friends here, 
 or get the swelled head and think you re a bigger 
 man politically than I am, and you ll be all right." 
 
 " What do you want me to do? " 
 
 McManus got up and walked over to the win 
 dow. He looked out for a moment, lighted a 
 cigar carefully, took a puff or two and then walked 
 back to where Marsh was sitting on the edge of 
 his chair. 
 
 "What do I want you to do? Nothing on 
 God s green earth but to play the game. There 
 are a lot of busy-izzy reformers and disturbers in 
 this district, and they will try to get you. They 
 will appeal to your so-called patriotism and your 
 love of country and your deep affection for the 
 common people; but forget it forget it all. 
 Politics isn t the business of the people. It s a 
 business we pursue for the people and our 
 selves. It s the most selfish, the most heartless, 
 the most bogus business on the footstool, but it
 
 14 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 happens to be the kind of business I enjoy, and you 
 can add to my enjoyment of it by doing what 
 I want you to, and add to your own enjoyment 
 too." 
 
 " But the better element were all for me, Bob." 
 
 " Forget the better element ! What have we 
 to do with them now that we have their votes? 
 Forget reformers who want you and me to do 
 what they want us to do instead of doing what 
 the situation demands. A reformer is nothing 
 but a man who can t get what he wants regularly 
 and tries to get it irregularly, or in a new way. 
 A reformer is a man who has a grievance and 
 wants to plaster everybody else with that griev 
 ance. Or he is one of those exalted idiots who 
 thinks because he doesn t approve of a man, or a 
 method, or a manner, that it is the duty of every 
 body else to disapprove of it. These reformers 
 are the greatest egotists in the world. They 
 won t argue. They won t reason. They just 
 condemn and command." 
 
 " But they cast a lot of votes." 
 
 " Of course they do, and we have to cater to 
 them. I m not asking you to do anything out in 
 the open they object to, for I ve made it a rule 
 in politics to favour, in public, every movement 
 that is advocated by church people or the women." 
 
 He laughed. " What I have done in private 
 is another matter." 
 
 " But," asked Marsh, " what shall you want? " 
 
 " Nothing, Jim," said McManus, putting his 
 hand on Marsh s shoulder, " nothing at all but
 
 "PLAY THE GAME" 15 
 
 one thing. All I ask of you is to play the game." 
 
 " That s easy enough." 
 
 " It won t be so easy as you think, but if you ve 
 got the nerve and the savvy and I think you 
 have to play it the way it ought to be played, 
 you and I can get to be the big political powers in 
 this state. I tell you I can make you governor 
 or senator or perhaps president. But that isn t 
 all." 
 
 " It seems a good deal." Marsh s eyes burned 
 with excitement. 
 
 " It isn t all by a heap. The most important 
 thing is this, Jim we can both make our for 
 tunes." 
 
 " Hold on, Bob ! " broke in Marsh. You 
 can t make a crook out of me or a grafter." 
 
 " Who the hell wants you to be a crook or a 
 grafter?" snarled McManus. "If you go to 
 be a crook or a grafter you couldn t get anywhere 
 provided it was found out or suspected even. 
 Now listen to me: You are ambitious?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You think you have it in you to be a big man 
 in Congress." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " You d rather be a great senator and have 
 your wife succeed socially than anything else? " 
 
 11 Yes." 
 
 " Well, then, I know you have the right stuff 
 in you and all I ask of you is to play the game." 
 
 u But," asked Marsh nervously, " how shall I 
 know what the game is and how to play it? "
 
 1 6 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " Oh," replied McManus, as if it were all 
 settled, " as for that you ll learn a good deal your 
 self, and what you don t learn yourself I ll teach 
 you."
 
 II 
 
 THE FUTURE OPENS 
 
 MARSH walked home slowly, turning 
 over in his mind what McManus 
 had said to him. He was uneasy, 
 for he didn t know how far Mc 
 Manus would ask him to go. McManus had 
 financial and political connections in the East, was 
 frequently called to Washington for consultation 
 with the party leaders there, was a member of 
 the Republican National Committee and potent in 
 state affairs. Furthermore McManus, operating 
 as the friend of the people and the unselfish leader 
 of the party, looked on it all as a game whereby 
 the ends always justified the means. He was 
 interested only in the results and the results of the 
 results, which, generally, and as often as he could 
 make them so, were for the benefit of McManus 
 and his lieutenants. He was a stern boss, but had 
 the reputation of dividing equitably, and he stood 
 by his friends. Marsh understood perfectly that 
 McManus only theory of politics was that poli 
 tics is necessary to secure power and that power is 
 useful in helping along personal plans. 
 
 At the same time Marsh knew it would be to 
 the advantage of his future to remain on friendly
 
 iff THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 terms with McManus, for without McManus 
 support Marsh could not hope to remain in Con 
 gress. Marsh took a backward look at his own 
 career. He was forty-one years old, married and 
 had a daughter of fifteen. He was a practising 
 lawyer, who made about six thousand dollars a 
 year and had never had an office except a street- 
 railway receivership, given to him by a political 
 judge, that netted him five thousand dollars, of 
 which he was compelled to give a quarter to the 
 McManus organisation. He was born in a 
 small village about twenty miles from Morgan- 
 ville, worked hard, came to Morganville when he 
 was eighteen and studied law. He passed his 
 examinations with credit and took a clerkship 
 in a leading firm at that, the county seat. 
 After a few years he had opened an office of 
 his own and had done well, as the law business 
 went in that territory. All his life he had been a 
 public speaker and interested and active in poli 
 tics. He had an elocutionary gift. When he 
 was a small boy he declaimed Spartacus to the 
 Gladiators and similar robust orations in the dis 
 trict school. He worked up through the rural 
 debating societies and was a leader in the moot 
 trials organised by the clerks in his student days. 
 As soon as he was admitted to the bar he began 
 campaign speaking in a small way. He had de 
 veloped, through his work in the courtroom and 
 on the stump, into an effective public speaker, 
 with a facility for flowery and impassioned per 
 orations and a trick of alliteration that made his
 
 THE FUTURE UFENS 19 
 
 speeches sound more impressive than they really 
 were. His voice was musical and strong and his 
 delivery graceful and at times dramatic. 
 
 He was a good student, kept in close and in 
 telligent touch with public affairs. Once or twice 
 when the occasion seemed opportune, he had 
 broken away from the McManus organisation and 
 had sided with the independents. There always 
 was a faction in the district fighting McManus. 
 This exhibition of independence had puzzled Mc 
 Manus, but had not deterred him from nominating 
 Marsh when he wanted a man to win. McManus 
 needed Marsh, not only to give respectability 
 to his organisation, but because Marsh was 
 strong and effective and capable of large develop 
 ment. Marsh had not been, to a great extent, 
 cognisant of the machine methods of McManus, 
 for McManus had used him for outside work and 
 not in the inner councils. Marsh thoroughly be 
 lieved that his triumph at the polls was due to his 
 own good standing in the community and to his 
 strong political beliefs, which, though generally 
 in accord with those of the party, still were pro 
 gressive enough to suit the independents in a great 
 measure. 
 
 He liked the law, but his great love was for 
 politics and his great passion for power and place. 
 All his life he had had but one idea, and that was 
 to become an important man in the country. He 
 thought himself a great orator and he was a 
 very good one and might reasonably hope to 
 develop in time to be a great one and he was
 
 20 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 greedy for applause. He had visions of himself 
 in Congress swaying his colleagues with the force 
 and eloquence of his words, and he saw opening 
 before him vistas, not only of political triumphs 
 but of social triumphs as well. He considered 
 the man who held a big office as having proved 
 his superiority over his neighbours; and though he 
 was outwardly modest and not looking for noto 
 riety, he sought the society of men he thought 
 could help him, and saw to it that his name was 
 in the newspapers as often as it could be put there 
 in a complimentary manner. He had worked 
 harder to make himself one of the big men of 
 Morganville than he had to make money, and he 
 had lived up to and a little beyond his income. 
 Ordinarily at the end of the year there were bills 
 amounting to a thousand dollars or so unpaid, and 
 no way to provide for them except by future earn 
 ings. 
 
 Marsh was somewhat of a sentimentalist, and 
 by nature not so aggressive as he seemed. How 
 ever, he had carefully built up a reputation for 
 keen, businesslike decision, which he relieved at 
 times by some act of kindness and consideration 
 that won him approval. He was liked by his 
 colleagues at the bar and popular throughout his 
 district as a good mixer. He had a facility for 
 remembering names and faces and incidents, and 
 he cultivated that assiduously. He also had a 
 hearty sincerity of manner, never effusive, but 
 genuine in all its manifestations. To all outside 
 views he seemed a serious, studious, earnest,
 
 THE FUTURE OPENS 21 
 
 honest man, with the good of the people at 
 heart and fervent in his support of his party. 
 He was enough of a politician to go a con 
 siderable distance in making his own ideas 
 conform with the tenets of his party. He 
 said to himself that he could do more to bring 
 about good politics by being in powerful place 
 on the inside instead of fighting from the out 
 side. He was firmly determined to urge and se 
 cure reforms, especially in the extension of 
 popular government, a question he had studied 
 much but about which he had talked little. 
 He had no idea, either real or vague, of doing 
 anything else in Congress than giving his best serv 
 ice to his people and his country, but back of it 
 all was an intense ambition, a craving for high 
 position, and he was certain that if he could 
 attain the place he desired he then could do 
 many things that were beyond him as a private 
 citizen. 
 
 Marsh had telephoned the result to his wife 
 as soon as he was certain he was elected, and she 
 was waiting for him. 
 
 " Well, Molly," he shouted exultantly as he 
 came into the living-room where she was sitting, 
 " we re going to Congress." 
 
 She rose to meet him and he took her in his 
 arms and kissed her. She said nothing. 
 
 You don t seem very much impressed with the 
 news," he complained. 
 
 "Of course I am, Jim. Don t be silly! But 
 I was planning my dresses."
 
 22 
 
 "Your dresses! Is that the first thing you 
 think about? " 
 
 " Jim," said Mrs. Marsh, withdrawing herself 
 from his arms, " I am now a Congressman s wife, 
 and I shall be expected to take my proper place in 
 society in Washington. Of course I must think 
 of my dresses and the dresses for Dorothy, but 
 I m glad I m glad it means so much to all 
 of us." 
 
 Mrs Marsh was slender, alert and thirty-seven. 
 She had an attractive face, knew how to keep her 
 complexion fresh, had good taste in gowns and 
 much tact and ability as a hostess. She was not 
 a beauty and never had been, but she was graceful, 
 vivacious, healthy, good-tempered, active, and 
 had won her way as the social leader of her set 
 by hard and persistent campaigning and by the 
 exercise of great strategy and diplomacy. She 
 had a quick mind, was just a little ahead of her 
 friends in adopting the new fashions, but had 
 excellent discernment and never took up the ex 
 treme modes. She was adaptable and eager to 
 learn, and studied the social columns of the out- 
 of-town newspapers and the fashion books from 
 New York and elsewhere with satisfactory results. 
 She dabbled discreetly in club doings, but never 
 with any but the clubs that were most fashionable, 
 and she kept her visiting list carefully pruned, 
 and considered it a triumph when she added 
 to that list the name of a lady who had seemed a 
 little above her in position. She was the daugh 
 ter of a local merchant, and had married Marsh
 
 THE FUTURE OPENS 23 
 
 when she was nineteen, a year after she had com 
 pleted her course in the Morganville high school. 
 
 " Molly," said Marsh, " this dress business is 
 an angle that hadn t appealed to me before. 
 How much will they cost? " 
 
 " Why, Jim," she replied, " I don t know. 
 How can I tell? I suppose five hundred dollars 
 for myself and Dorothy." 
 
 " Five hundred dollars ! " 
 
 " Certainly ! You want your wife to be prop 
 erly dressed, don t you? There is so much to 
 get, for none of the gowns I have been wearing 
 here will do. I must have everything new. 
 You know, Jim," she continued earnestly, " it 
 wouldn t do to go to one of those big houses in 
 Washington with a gown on that had seen serv 
 ice here in poky Morganville." 
 
 " I suppose not." 
 
 " You aren t very enthusiastic about it." 
 
 " Maybe not; but this campaign cost me about 
 all I had in cash and I went into debt some. 
 They taxed me pretty heavily and I had to pay my 
 own expenses. Why, the money McManus got 
 from the congressional campaign committee he 
 used in his own way, and I m about strapped, to 
 tell the truth." 
 
 " Oh, well, we don t go to Washington until 
 December of next year, and you can make a lot 
 before that time, can t you, Jim? " 
 
 " I ll have to," he replied grimly.
 
 Ill 
 
 THE FIRST: "WHY NOT?" 
 
 LEADER McMANUS took Marsh to 
 Washington with him for a few days 
 during the session of the Congress 
 which preceded the body to which 
 Marsh had been elected. Corrected returns 
 showed that Marsh had carried his district by 
 some thirteen hundred, " redeemed " it, as the 
 party papers all said, and he had made one or 
 two speeches at ratification meetings that had 
 been warmly commended. McManus had said 
 little and had kept away from Marsh, who was 
 working hard at his law practice and reading up 
 on governmental affairs, in order to be able to 
 plunge into his new work. He was disturbed 
 because he would have no actual opportunity, 
 beyond being representative-elect, to demon 
 strate his capacity as a statesman, as the Congress 
 to which he was elected would not go into session 
 for a year; but he finally concluded that might 
 not be so much of a detriment as it seemed, 
 for the elapsed time would give him a chance 
 to get his law business into shape and secure some 
 money to help out on expenses in Washington. 
 
 24
 
 THE FIRST: "WHY NOT?" 25 
 
 It was the second time Marsh had been in 
 Washington. He had attended the inaugura 
 tion of President Harrison, in 1889, coming on 
 an excursion, and had galloped through the big 
 buildings and had called on his representative; 
 but he remembered very little except the crowds 
 and the rain, and he was vastly interested in all 
 he saw. They went to the largest hotel, where 
 McManus took a parlour and two bedrooms, a 
 finer suite than Marsh ever had occupied in a 
 hotel or elsewhere, and began a round of visits. 
 McManus spent money freely. He hired cabs, 
 had elaborate dinners, bought expensive wines 
 and cigars and would not let Marsh pay for any 
 thing. 
 
 " It s on me," he said, " all of it. I want to 
 get you started right down here, and there s no 
 sense in your blowing yourself. It s on me." 
 
 Marsh resented this air of proprietorship 
 shown by McManus, and he resented it still more 
 when he was introduced by McManus as " my 
 congressman," but he said nothing. He re 
 solved at the earliest feasible moment to 
 show McManus he was his own congressman, but 
 he went with McManus wherever McManus sug 
 gested. Marsh was surprised to see the easy 
 terms McManus was on with men whose names 
 figured in the newspapers every day as the greatest 
 statesmen of the country. He heard McManus 
 call them " Joe " and " John " and all the rest, and 
 saw them salute McManus as "Bob, old boy! " 
 and at once become confidential with him. He
 
 26 
 
 waited impatiently in outside offices while Me- 
 Manus talked with famous senators and notable 
 representatives, and when they went to the White 
 House and he was presented to the president, he 
 was astonished to find the president not only 
 called McManus " Bob," but put his arm about 
 his shoulder and led him away to a corner of the 
 room for a personal and intimate talk. 
 
 Marsh s vanity was hurt. He considered him 
 self a man of considerable dignity and conse 
 quence, and he was a representative-elect, a man 
 on whom they must all figure when the next Con 
 gress convened. To his disgust he was received 
 in the most casual manner by the leaders of his 
 party in both Senate and House. They were 
 glad to meet him, inquired carefully as to his 
 name, said they would be pleased to help him 
 when he came to take up his duties, and then 
 turned to other things. A few of them talked to 
 him a little about politics in his state, but that was 
 about all. Every one seemed to have confidences 
 to exchange with McManus and Marsh obtained 
 a new view of the power of that leader in na 
 tional affairs. McManus took him to the man 
 who would be speaker of the new House and 
 recommended Marsh for good committee places. 
 
 " I ll do the best I can," said that personage, 
 " but the pressure is tremendous. All the new 
 men want to go on Ways and Means or Appro 
 priations, you understand, right off the bat." 
 
 " I know all about that," McManus replied,
 
 THE FIRST: "WHY NOT?" 27 
 
 " but you take care of Marsh here. He s all 
 right, and he ll stand without hitching." 
 
 Marsh resented that, too, but said nothing. 
 In his mind he determined not only to show the 
 prospective speaker that he might do worse than 
 put him in Ways and Means or Appropriations, 
 but also to prove to McManus there was no mort 
 gage on his freedom in the possession of that 
 autocratic boss. 
 
 It was all an enchanted land to Marsh. By 
 virtue of his forthcoming position he was admit 
 ted to places beyond the ordinary visitor. He 
 saw at closer range the men he had been reading 
 about all his life. He studied the operations of 
 both Senate and House, listened to the debates 
 and speeches and said to himself that he could do 
 better than any of them, went to a dinner party or 
 two given at the hotel by McManus, and was 
 seized with a sense of his own importance. In a 
 short time he was to be a member of this great 
 law-making body. He was to be a statesman. 
 He was to have his place there on the floor, to 
 take part in the deliberations, to help frame the 
 laws, to speak to an audience that would be nation 
 wide, and he saw again those vistas of increasing 
 power and higher place. Indeed, one night when 
 he was out alone for a walk, he went up on Penn 
 sylvania Avenue past the treasury, and stood for 
 a long time looking at the White House. Then 
 he walked slowly round the ellipse and gazed at 
 the big portico, and staring over the iron fence he
 
 28 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 determined that even so tremendous a goal as the 
 White House was not beyond him. 
 
 "Why not?" he said. "Why not?" 
 
 As he stood there three men came along, walk 
 ing slowly and talking earnestly. He recognised 
 two of them. They were senators, he was sure 
 of that, and well-known senators, too. He had 
 often seen their pictures in the papers and he had 
 observed them on the floor of the Senate chamber. 
 
 They stopped near him. 
 
 " Damn him ! If he thinks he can coerce me 
 into doing what he wants by threatening to with 
 hold my patronage, let him go ahead," one of them 
 exclaimed. " I m still a senator, and I ll show him 
 that I m not to be intimidated by any president of 
 the United States." 
 
 " Cheer up, Bill! " said another of the party. 
 " He s only bluffing and so are you. When the 
 time comes you ll get together in five minutes." 
 
 " I m not bluffing! " shouted the angry senator. 
 " I ll show him." 
 
 The others laughed and pulled the fist-shaker 1 
 along with them, patting him on the back and tell 
 ing him it was a waste of energy to make those 
 demonstrations before them. 
 
 Marsh wondered what it was all about. He 
 had heard nothing of any quarrel between a sen 
 ator and the president. When he returned to 
 the hotel he asked McManus about it. 
 
 "Oh," said McManus, "it s nothing. The 
 president wants a thing done that is pretty hard 
 to do, and some of the senators have kicked about
 
 THE FIRST: "WHY NOT?" 29 
 
 it. He is insistent and is threatening to withhold 
 patronage unless he gets his way. Those old 
 boys over there in the Senate are as greedy as any 
 politician for their share of the pie, and they re 
 sore. But they will come round. They always 
 do. By the way, I fixed it for you to-day so you 
 can have a couple of assistant door-keepers and 
 a place on the temporary roll for our fellows." 
 
 " I ll look over the ground," said Marsh, " and 
 pick out some good men." 
 
 " Needn t bother," McManus replied. " I ve 
 picked them out for you." 
 
 This made Marsh s gorge rise. He was on 
 the point of protesting, but he thought it better to 
 wait until he had a chance to show McManus by 
 deeds instead of trying to influence him by words. 
 McManus apparently considered the matter set 
 tled and did not refer to it again. 
 
 " Bob," said Marsh, as they were on the train 
 going home, " you seem to know most of the big 
 men back in Washington." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And to have a lot of influence with them." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 McManus turned and looked Marsh in the 
 eye: "Why not?" he asked. "Why not, 
 when I ve been playing the game on the level with 
 most of them for thirty years? I know them and 
 they know me." 
 
 " But you never have taken office." 
 
 " Marsh," said McManus, leaning forward, 
 " there is one good rule you always should follow
 
 30 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 never try to take anything you can t get. I 
 couldn t be elected pound-master, and you know 
 it; but I can elect other people, and you know that 
 too. Besides, I d much rather own an office 
 holder than have an office own me." 
 
 There was a pause of ten minutes. McManus 
 smoked his cigar and looked out of the window. 
 Marsh smoked his cigar and looked at the toes of 
 his shoes. 
 
 " Bob," asked Marsh finally, " do you claim to 
 own me? " 
 
 " I make no claims of any kind," McManus 
 replied, with considerable emphasis. " I took 
 you to Washington to show you what I can do for 
 you if you continue right. It s all up to you. If 
 you want my support you can have it. If you 
 don t want it that s for you to decide. But let me 
 say this you can t get anywhere without me and 
 you can go a hell of a ways with me. All you ve 
 got to do is to play the game." 
 
 " Do you mean you want me to be dishonest? " 
 
 "Dishonest!" shouted McManus. "No, I 
 don t want you to be dishonest! What good 
 would you be to me or anybody else if you were 
 dishonest in the sense you use the word? I m 
 not putting crooks into office; I m trying to keep 
 them out. You ve been listening to a lot of guff 
 about politics and politicians put out by a bunch 
 of reformers and uplifters who wouldn t know an 
 Australian ballot if they saw one coming down 
 the street and wouldn t know whether they ought 
 to back in or roll into a polling place, who never
 
 THE FIRST: "WHY NOT?" 31 
 
 took part in a ward caucus, and who say all poli 
 tics is dishonest because they can t get out of poli 
 tics what they want themselves. 
 
 " No, I don t want you to be dishonest. I ll 
 be the first to expose you if you are. What I do 
 want is for you to look at this game with the right 
 slant. I don t like that word graft a little bit, 
 but it s the only one I can use to explain what I 
 do mean. Now listen, Marsh, there are two 
 kinds of graft plain graft and honest graft. 
 Perquisites is better, but that doesn t exactly fit. 
 What I mean is that if you play the game, go to 
 bat with the boys who are in control and prove 
 yourself regular and dependable, you will get your 
 share of it and, incidentally, so will I. There 
 are a whole heap of things coming off every ses 
 sion of Congress that are straight as a string, and 
 you can get in on them if you will. It doesn t 
 mean any betrayal of your constituents, or any 
 sacrifice of your honor, or anything at all but just 
 plain, hard, common sense, and not such a hell of 
 a lot of that. If you play ball with the boys the 
 boys will play ball with you. Our Congress is 
 the greatest tit-for-tat institution in the known 
 world. The organisation runs the game, and if 
 you are with the organisation you are in the game 
 and get your share. If you try to buck the or 
 ganisation you lose out three ways at home, 
 in Congress and with me. You won t be asked 
 to do anything you can t do consistently or con 
 scientiously, unless your conscience is tenderer 
 than I think it is. The labourer is always worthy
 
 32 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 of his hire. Things will come your way if you 
 help put things in the way of the other fellows. 
 It s a give-and-take proposition anyway you look 
 at it, and you ve got to give something before you 
 can take anything." 
 
 " But, Bob, I don t quite get what you mean by 
 honest graft." 
 
 "You don t have to yet," said McManus. 
 " But when the time comes I ll be round to put 
 you wise."
 
 IV 
 
 ANOTHER RUBE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 i 
 
 Honorable James Marsh and Mrs. 
 Marsh came to Washington ten days 
 before the session of Congress began 
 in December. They decided to leave 
 Dorothy, the daughter, with her grandmother in 
 Morganville so that she might continue at school, 
 and planned to go to a hotel for a time until they 
 could fit themselves into the life at the capital in 
 their proper sphere. Marsh knew no hotel 
 except the one he had stayed at with McManus, 
 and he went there. He asked for a parlour, a 
 bedroom and a bath, and was given a small suite 
 on the seventh floor overlooking the roofs of 
 some adjacent buildings. The rooms were com 
 fortable and the service excellent. Mrs. Marsh 
 was delighted. 
 
 That afternoon she put on one of her prettiest 
 gowns and went down early. She had seen a 
 long hall, or corridor, rather, bisecting the hotel, 
 and had observed this was lined with sofas and 
 big carved and padded chairs. There were great 
 parlours and restaurant rooms on either side of 
 this corridor, which were decorated lavishly with 
 
 33
 
 34 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 palms and flowering shrubs and potted plants. At 
 five o clock the waiters put small tables along this 
 corridor, and dozens of handsomely dressed 
 women came in to have tea. A big orchestra 
 played in a balcony. There was much bustle and 
 animation, and the women visited from table to 
 table, while men walked through, stopped here and 
 there to chat or lingered long enough for a cup of 
 tea. She observed that some of the women were 
 old and elaborately dressed and that some of them 
 were young and still more elaborately dressed. 
 She walked through the corridor, noticed that some 
 of the men glanced at her momentarily and then 
 took a seat to watch the proceedings. 
 
 It was a lively and interesting scene. The or 
 chestra played unceasingly, devoting itself to the 
 popular airs of the day, and the women came and 
 went in groups of two and three and four. She 
 sat for an hour, thinking pleasurably of the com 
 ing afternoons when she would be of the party, and 
 not merely in it as she was then, a participator and 
 not a spectator, but she was uneasy about her 
 dress. It was the ultimate achievement of the 
 local dressmaker at Morganville, but she did not 
 see any other like it. To be sure, she had gone to 
 the modiste in the city for her evening gowns, but 
 this frock was her idea of what she would need in 
 her afternoon social duties, and she was worried, 
 and wondered if it were possible that she was not 
 so strictly in the fashion as she had thought to be. 
 Soon after six o clock she went up to the suite. 
 Marsh came in. She decided she would put on
 
 35 
 
 her simplest evening gown and insisted that Marsh 
 should wear his dinner jacket. 
 
 " What s the use ? " asked Marsh. " I m tired. 
 Let s go down just as we are and get a bite." 
 
 " No," Mrs. Marsh replied decisively. " I m 
 not going down there on my first night in an after 
 noon dress. At six o clock all the men began ap 
 pearing in dinner jackets and in dress-suits, and I 
 know the women will have on their best, and I m 
 not going to start out feeling uncomfortable the 
 very first night." 
 
 Marsh growled something about a dinner jacket 
 being unsuitable, and said he might as well put on 
 his full evening regalia. Mrs. Marsh insisted the 
 dinner jacket would do, and Marsh put it on, and 
 his growls grew to full-voiced imprecations 
 when he clumsily tried to hook- his wife s gown. 
 She was pretty when she was ready to go. 
 Marsh stood sulkily in the parlour waiting for 
 her. 
 
 " Now, see here, Jim Marsh," she said, " there s 
 no use of your acting like this. You ve got to 
 make up your mind that I am going to be a part 
 of the social life in this city and you ve got to help 
 me. I m your wife and I am entitled to take my 
 proper place. I know what to do, even if you 
 don t, and you might as well decide, first as last, 
 that you ll do as I say in social matters." 
 
 " Huh," sneered Marsh, " I don t see anything 
 very social about dining in a hotel." 
 
 4 That s because you don t know. I was down 
 there this afternoon at teatime, and I saw a whole
 
 36 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 lot of women there I just know I felt it are 
 social leaders. They will all be in to dinner also, 
 and I am not going down there looking as if I 
 don t understand what is what." 
 
 "But," persisted Marsh, "what s the rush? 
 We only arrived here this morning. I don t see 
 the harm in dining quietly to-night and taking our 
 ease at it, instead of being all dressed up like horses 
 and buggies." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh looked sharply at him. " If you 
 do not appreciate your position here I do," she 
 said. " Also I appreciate my position. As I 
 have said, I do not intend to be a mere unknown 
 wife of a congressman. I intend to be prominent 
 in society, and you ve got to help me. That s all 
 there is to that." 
 
 " Oh, all right, all right," Marsh replied. " Of 
 course I ll help you, my dear. I intend that you 
 shall be all you desire to be in that way, and," he 
 added conciliatingly, " you can do it too. Never 
 fear that." 
 
 They went down. The dining-rooms were 
 crowded. Much to Mrs. Marsh s surprise a large 
 proportion of the diners were in street clothes, but 
 here and there she noticed a table where the women 
 were resplendent in jewels and low-cut gowns and 
 the men were in evening dress. 
 
 " Looks to me," said Marsh, " as if there were 
 a few here who ain t in such a hurry as you are, 
 Molly." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh sniffed. A dining-room captain 
 approached them as they stood uncertain in the
 
 ANOTHER RUBE CONGRESSMAN 37 
 
 door of the largest restaurant room. " A table 
 for two? " he inquired. 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Marsh. "A good table, 
 please. This is my husband, the Honorable James 
 Marsh, Member of Congress, and we want a very 
 good table." 
 
 There was a slight flicker of a smile round the 
 corners of the mouth of the captain. He bowed 
 and said: " Certainly, madam." 
 
 Then he led them to a small table in a corner of 
 the room. " But," protested Mrs. Marsh, " I 
 can t see a thing here. Why can t we have one of 
 those tables in the centre of the room? " 
 
 " I regret to say those are reserved, madam. 1 
 
 " Oh, sit down, Molly," urged Marsh. " This 
 one is all right." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh sat down. Later she saw very 
 ordinary looking persons, some of them in tweeds 
 and the women in tailored suits, shown to the re 
 served tables, and still later oh, much later 
 she learned the efficacy of a dollar bill in securing 
 a " reserved " table in a big restaurant. 
 
 The captain stood at attention. He had a pad 
 of paper and a pencil in his hand and had given 
 menu cards to them. The menu card was appal 
 ling. It had scores and scores of dishes on it, 
 most of them with French names, and it was sub 
 divided and redivided into potages, poissons, rotis, 
 legumes in a bewildering fashion. Both stared 
 perplexedly at the confusing assortment. 
 
 Would you like some oysters? " suggested the 
 captain.
 
 3 
 
 " Certainly," assented Marsh, much relieved. 
 
 "And a clear soup?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Perhaps you would care for some English sole 
 a la margeury? " 
 
 ; That ll be first rate." 
 
 " The canvasback ducks are excellent just now," 
 said the captain in an entirely impersonal manner. 
 
 " Oh, Jim," exclaimed Mrs. Marsh, " do let s 
 have a canvasback duck. They come from round 
 here somewhere and we ve never had one, you 
 know." 
 
 Marsh nodded his head. The captain sug 
 gested a salad, some cheese and coffee and asked 
 whether they would like their hominy in a chafing- 
 dish or served in the usual way. 
 
 " I didn t order hominy," said Marsh. 
 
 " It is usually served," the captain observed. 
 " Do you wish the large or the small? " 
 
 " Let s have the small." 
 
 "What wine do you prefer?" The captain 
 ostentatiously handed a wine list to Marsh. 
 Marsh took it, looked at it for a moment and 
 said: " Champagne." 
 
 " Will you be so kind as to indicate the brand? " 
 
 " Oh," stammered Marsh, " any good brand." 
 
 "And cocktails?" 
 
 Marsh looked inquiringly at his wife. She 
 shook her head. The captain called a waiter, 
 read the order to him, cautioned him to be very 
 careful, and hovered about, patting the tablecloth 
 and rearranging the astonishing array of knives
 
 ANOTHER RUBE CONGRESSMAN 39 
 
 and forks and spoons that had been placed before 
 them while they were giving the order. Marsh 
 and his wife grew nervous over the hoverings of 
 the captain and wondered why he didn t leave. 
 He smiled ingratiatingly, hoped the dinner would 
 be all they could wish and hovered some more. 
 Finally he went away, and as he left Mrs. Marsh s 
 quick ear heard him say in a hoarse whisper to a 
 second captain standing near by: "Another of 
 them rube Congressmen." 
 
 Marsh didn t hear it. She blushed hotly and 
 stiffened in her chair. She would show them, the 
 impudent puppies, she thought, that they were not 
 rubes she would show them ! 
 
 The room was crowded and gay. The din 
 ner was excellently and quickly served, and they 
 enjoyed it, although they found there was rather 
 too much food and it would have been as well 
 if they had ordered no fish. The waiter sug 
 gested a cordial and they took it, and when the 
 cigar boy brought round the cigar tray Marsh 
 selected a long, thin one that looked good. It 
 was good, too, and he felt peaceful and happy as 
 he smoked and listened to his wife s comments on 
 the people in the room. 
 
 Presently there was no excuse for staying 
 longer. The diners were leaving. Mrs. Marsh 
 noticed that a good many of them took their coffee 
 in the corridor outside, and resolved she would 
 next time. The orchestra had stopped playing. 
 
 " Bring me the check," said Marsh. 
 
 The waiter brought the check, laying face down
 
 40 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 on a small silver salver. Marsh reached into his 
 pocket for his money and turned the check over. 
 As he looked at the red-ink total he gasped and 
 then whistled. 
 
 "How much is it?" asked Mrs. Marsh in a 
 whisper, while the waiter stood stolidly by. 
 Marsh did not reply. He laid a twenty-dollar 
 bill on the salver and rose to go. 
 
 " Aren t you going to wait for your change? " 
 asked Mrs. Marsh. 
 
 " There won t be any change." 
 
 " Jim Marsh, do you mean to tell me that din 
 ner cost twenty dollars?" 
 
 " Not exactly, but with the tip it will come to 
 the twenty all right." 
 
 It was Mrs. Marsh s turn to gasp. She pursed 
 her lips and was deep in thought most of the time 
 they remained in the corridor. 
 
 At ten o clock they went upstairs. Marsh sat 
 down in a big chair to finish his second cigar and 
 Mrs. Marsh wandered about the room, looking 
 at the pictures and examining the furniture. She 
 noticed a small placard tacked on the door. She 
 read it and turned suddenly on Marsh. 
 
 "Jim Marsh!" she exclaimed. "Do you 
 know how much these rooms are costing us? " 
 
 " About five dollars a day, I suppose." 
 
 "Did you ask?" 
 
 " Why, no ; I didn t ask. I just registered and 
 told the clerk what I wanted." 
 
 " Come here ! " she commanded. " Come 
 straight here and look at this."
 
 ANOTHER RUBE CONGRESSMAN 411 
 
 He walked over and looked at the placard to 
 which she was pointing. It read: " The price o 
 this suite, exclusive of meals is $11 a day." 
 
 "Holy Moses! " shouted Marsh. 
 
 " I should think so," said Mrs. Marsh. 
 " Here we have been in this hotel less than half 
 a day and we ve got to stay here until the morning, 
 and then without any breakfast we ve spent more 
 than thirty dollars for one meal and a place to 
 sleep, to say nothing of tips and baggage and all 
 that. It s an outrage." 
 
 " It was a good meal," suggested MarsH 
 weakly. 
 
 " Good meal or not, we ll get right out of here." 
 
 " But think of your social aspirations." 
 
 " I don t need a millionaire s hotel to help me 
 succeed socially," she snapped. " We ll find an 
 other place to-morrow." 
 
 Marsh had been doing some figuring. He had 
 only a few hundred dollars ahead, as he had paid 
 off many obligations before he left Morganville, 
 and his politics had prevented his giving his whole 
 time to his profession. At thirty dollars a day, 
 with a salary of $5000 a year it was before the 
 Congressional salaries had been raised to $7500 
 and a few hundred dollars for mileage, and his 
 clerk hire and stationery account, he could see 
 bankruptcy ahead of him. Of course they 
 wouldn t always eat twenty-dollar meals, but they 
 couldn t eat four-dollar ones, pay this room rental 
 and have anything left. 
 
 Next morning Marsh went up to the Capitol
 
 42 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 and met some of the members of the House. He 
 made inquiries and discovered that Washington 
 is speckled with hotels not so expensive as the 
 one at which he was staying, where many of the 
 representatives and senators live, and that after 
 noon he and his wife went out to find one of these. 
 They took two rooms at a rather pretentious hotel 
 on a street not far from the centre of the city. 
 This hotel was a great favourite with the congres 
 sional people. It catered to them. The price 
 was two hundred dollars a month for two rooms 
 and bath and meals, as the hotel ran on the Amer 
 ican plan. They moved at once, and that night, 
 in the lobby of their new hotel home, Mrs. Marsh 
 met a number of the wives of other members, and 
 observed, not without disquiet again, that her gown 
 seemed to fit in better in the general sartorial 
 scheme there than it had at the big hostelry.
 
 "TAKE D. ." 
 
 MARSH spent a good deal of his time 
 at the Capitol, getting acquainted 
 with other members, finding out what 
 his perquisites were, and he soon 
 learned the important thing for a new mem 
 ber is to get on a good committee. He had de 
 cided he would go on the Judiciary Committee, 
 as that was in his professional line, and he felt 
 his knowledge of the law and his reputation as 
 a lawyer would make him valuable there. As for 
 the other committees he was not so particular, 
 although Public Lands, or Irrigation, or Rivers 
 and Harbours would be to his liking, inasmuch 
 as he came from a Western state where the ques 
 tions considered by the land and irrigation com 
 mittees are important and there was some dredg 
 ing to be done in the big river in his district. 
 
 He tried several times to see the man who was 
 slated to be speaker, and who had the making of 
 the committees; but he found the room crowded 
 with members on the same quest as himself. 
 They were all eager to get good places, and were 
 all using every influence they could bring to bear on 
 the speaker, urging their claims and lobbying in 
 
 43
 
 44 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 every possible way for preferment. Marsh ex 
 pected the speaker would see him at once, and he 
 was much abashed to find he was of no particular 
 importance in the gathering. Men who had 
 served for years with the speaker came and went 
 into the inner room, but the suave secretary to the 
 speaker and the suaver negro messenger kept him 
 outside, with polite assurances that the speaker 
 would see him presently. 
 
 After three attempts the speaker s secretary 
 told him the speaker would see him in half an 
 hour. About an hour after that, during which 
 time Marsh had sat impatiently in the outer room, 
 discussing committee places and nothing else with 
 other waiting members, the negro messenger came 
 over and said: "Mr. Marsh, will you please 
 step this way? " 
 
 Marsh went in. The speaker was hunched low 
 in a chair. He was chewing the stub of a cigar. 
 He did not rise, but nodded and said: " Marsh? " 
 with a sharp rising inflection. 
 
 Yes, Mr. Speaker." 
 
 " Sit down." The speaker removed his cigar, 
 spat vigorously and asked abruptly: " Well, what 
 do you want? " 
 
 " I want to consult with you on my committee 
 places." 
 
 " Which do you prefer, Ways and Means or 
 Appropriations?" the speaker asked with elabo 
 rate irony. 
 
 "Why, I hadn t thought of either; but of 
 course "
 
 "TAKE D. C" 45 
 
 " Oh, for Heaven s sake," said the speaker im 
 patiently, " that was a josh, young fellow! Now 
 what do you want? " 
 
 " I thought I might; be of service on the Com 
 mittee of Judiciary, and would take details on 
 Public Lands and Irrigation, or possibly, Rivers 
 and Harbours." 
 
 "You would take those, would you? Agree 
 able and accommodating young person, I should 
 say!" 
 
 " Of course, if there are any other equally good 
 places " 
 
 The speaker rose and walked across the room, 
 talking to himself: " God in Israel! They are 
 all alike, they are all alike," he muttered. " Come 
 in here fresh from the brush and want to go on the 
 biggest committees right on the jump. Has 
 plain, ordinary horse-sense become a lost com 
 modity in this American nation? " He turned 
 to Marsh. " Don t you know," he snarled, 
 " that there are more than two hundred fellows 
 just like you here now, all hoping to get on 
 the big committees and driving me to drink 
 because I can t make more places than there are? 
 Don t you know that experience is the only thing 
 that counts in this House, and that I can t jump 
 a lot of you new men, however important you may 
 think you are, over the heads of the boys who have 
 been in the game for years? Wake up, young 
 fellow, wake up! Judiciary, hey?" 
 
 " Yes, I would prefer Judiciary," said Marsh, 
 who felt very small and insignificant.
 
 46 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 i{ Well, you can t have Judiciary, for every 
 cornfield lawyer who oozes into this House makes 
 a break for that committee right off the bat. You 
 can t have Judiciary. That s full and running 
 over already." 
 
 "What can I have?" 
 
 The speaker looked at a list he had on the 
 table. 
 
 " I want to do the best I can for you," he said. 
 " I can put you at the bottom of District of Colum 
 bia or put you on Mines and Mining. Probably 
 I can squeeze you in on a smaller one or two. 
 Which will you have?" 
 
 Marsh knew nothing about either committee. 
 He asked for time. " All right," said the 
 speaker. " Drop me a note when you have made 
 up your mind. Remember, now, I want to do 
 well by you, but the pressure is frightful, and 
 every man who comes in here thinks he is an 
 ace, whereas most of them are devices. Drop 
 me a line when you ve decided. Don t come 
 round here for a few days for I m busy I m so 
 damned busy I can t get time to sleep." 
 
 Marsh talked over the committee places. He 
 discovered that the House and Senate District of 
 Columbia committees act as the boards of alder 
 men and councilmen for the city of Washington, 
 and that the committee is an important one. Still 
 he was undecided and perplexed. He didn t want 
 to appear too green and he was cautious about 
 asking advice from other members he had met. 
 So he turned to McManus and telegraphed to
 
 TAKE D. C." 47 
 
 him : " Can go on District of Columbia or Mines 
 and Mining. Which do you advise ? " 
 
 A few hours later he received this reply: 
 11 Take D. C. McManus." 
 
 Next day Marsh went over to call on the senior 
 senator from his state, William N. Paxton, a fam 
 ous warrior of the Republican party, who had been 
 in the House of Representatives for many years 
 and then had been promoted to the Senate. He 
 was sixty years old, short, ruddy, good-humoured, 
 rich, although he had had no visible means of sup 
 port save politics for forty years, and he was a 
 fixture in the Senate apparently. He seemed a 
 jolly, pleasant man, but he could be as cold as a 
 wedge when the occasion demanded, and he had 
 a reputation that extended all over the country 
 for standing by his party and his friends. He 
 was not an orator, but was a good, straightfor 
 ward talker, convincing in debate and one of the 
 most adroit politicians in the Senate. He had 
 reached the age when all he cared for was the 
 pleasure of being a part of things, and he was 
 under no delusions about either the congressional 
 machinery or the congressional machinists. 
 
 He might have retired and lived a life of ease, 
 but he couldn t. So long as there was a breath 
 in him he would be in politics, and no man in the 
 Republic was more skilful in keeping his fences 
 up and his constituents well in hand. He was a 
 genial, companionable man, famed for his dinners, 
 who liked to play poker with his cronies, loved to 
 sit in the cloakroom and swap stories, who was
 
 48 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 always at hand where there was work to be done, 
 and had great potency in shaping the affairs of 
 the Senate. Indeed, he was one of the little 
 oligarchy of five or six members who controlled 
 the majority in the Senate and thus controlled the 
 Senate. 
 
 " Glad to see you," he said to Marsh. 
 " Hoped you would get round. Most of the 
 other boys have been over. How are you making 
 out?" 
 
 "All right, I guess," Marsh replied. "The 
 speaker says I can go on District of Columbia or 
 on Mines and Mining." 
 
 " I spoke to him about you. If I were you I d 
 take District of Columbia. Plenty of hard work, 
 but it gives you an insight into the town where 
 you ll spend most of your time for some years, if 
 you are as successful as I think you will be, and 
 might result in your personal advantage." 
 
 " Great God! " blurted Marsh, " am I nothing 
 in this Congress? Can t I get anything on my 
 own account without help from you or McManus. 
 iWhere do I come in? I am a member of the 
 House, elected on my own merits. Am I a zero 
 in this layout? " 
 
 Senator Paxton smiled indulgently. " Have a 
 cigar," he said, " and listen to me for a minute." 
 He took a box of cigars from his desk, held it out 
 while Marsh made a selection, took one himself, 
 lighted it carefully, looked at the end intently to 
 see that it was burning evenly, blew a puff of 
 smoke or two into the air, took out his cigar
 
 "TAKE D. C." 49 
 
 again, and again inspected the ash, crossed his 
 legs comfortably and began: 
 
 " Now, Marsh, you mustn t think your case is 
 any different from the cases of the vast hordes of 
 new members who have been flocking in here since 
 we began to do business at this stand. It isn t. 
 You are a new member. Nobody here gives a 
 whoop about you until you prove up. I have 
 served in the House and I have served in the Sen 
 ate, and I want to tell you one thing and that is 
 this: The House of Representatives of the Uni 
 ted States of America is the greatest democracy 
 on this earth. It doesn t make a particle of dif 
 ference what you have been or what you have done 
 before you go there. Past performances do not 
 count; you have to prove up all over again. You 
 have got to make good right there on the floor 
 of that House and in its committee rooms, before 
 the other members will take you at your own esti 
 mate or at the estimate of the people who sent you 
 there. 
 
 " You think you are an orator. Perhaps you 
 are. Putting aside the fact that oratory doesn t 
 get you much of anything in the House, and per 
 sonal influence does get you a whole heap, the 
 mere statement that you are an orator means 
 nothing. You have got to show those boys there 
 on the floor. You have got to make a speech or 
 a series of speeches and convince them. And 
 you ve got to make them here on this spot, not out 
 in Morganville or anywhere else. 
 
 " You are a lawyer. I know you are a good
 
 50 THE PRICE OE PLACE 
 
 one. But these fellows don t know it, and they 
 will refuse to believe it until you show them you 
 are a lawyer. You may have won plenty of cases 
 and had a reputation at your local bar, but it 
 takes a demonstration of your legal acumen in 
 Washington to convince these doubting Thomases. 
 And don t misunderstand me. They won t hinder 
 you in your showing what you are. They will 
 help you. They are kindly, human, decent folks, 
 and all of them are playing the same game you 
 are playing. But you ve got to display your 
 wares. Every man stands on his own feet in the 
 House of Representatives. He makes or un 
 makes himself there. If you have the goods they 
 will accept those goods after they have examined 
 them, but not before or on your say-so. 
 
 " Successful legislators are made so by experi 
 ence, and by no other method. Compared to a 
 mediocre experienced man who knows the me 
 chanics of the outfit, the brightest man in the coun 
 try, without experience, is a child in getting re 
 sults. Experience is what counts knowledge 
 of what to do and how to do it. You won t 
 amount to a hill of beans during your first term, 
 or probably during your second term. You ve 
 got to learn, but if you are the kind of a man I 
 take you for you will learn right enough, and then 
 you can be of some value to your constituents and 
 to yourself." 
 
 Senator Paxton stopped and puffed reflectively 
 at his cigar. Marsh was listening eagerly. 
 
 " Now let me tell you some things I have learned
 
 "TAKE D. C." 51 
 
 during my years at Washington. If you will take 
 the trouble to look over the men who are the 
 leaders in this House and in this Senate you will 
 undoubtedly think some of them are misfits, has- 
 beens and never-wases, that they are not big 
 enough for the places they hold, or are old dodoes 
 past their prime who should give place to younger 
 and stronger men. That may be so, but if you 
 will go into the subject you will find there isn t 
 one of these men for whom there isn t a reason as 
 big as the Washington Monument a reason, 
 Marsh, a reason back home or here. 
 
 " Men do not get prominence in Congress by 
 haphazard methods, by luck, or by any procedure 
 other than the hard work that gives them the all- 
 essential experience in legislation and the ability 
 to realise on it. There always is a reason for the 
 power of these men, and a mighty good one too. 
 
 " Moreover, right here at the beginning of your 
 career I want to tell you of the mistake that has 
 wrecked more congressional careers than any 
 other. That is the mistake of forgetting the peo 
 ple in the district. Men come here term after 
 term, get infatuated with Washington life, begin 
 to think they are secure, don t go back home and 
 mix with the boys, forget their obligations or be 
 come impatient over them, and one day they wake 
 up and find that some bright young lawyer, who 
 has been moving about the district, has beaten 
 them for the nomination, and they become the 
 most melancholy objects on this green earth 
 retired statesmen, ghosts who wander about think-
 
 52 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 ing ghostly thoughts of past glories and filled with 
 ghostly memories of other and power days. 
 
 " Don t forget the folks back home are the ones 
 who send you here. No matter how important 
 you may get to be here, the folks back home have 
 the votes. They are the foundations and the 
 arches and the towers and the battlements of your 
 structure." 
 
 The senator stopped and smoked again. 
 " Marsh," he said, " forgive me for lecturing you, 
 but I want to see you succeed. I can t live for 
 ever. There s no reason why you shouldn t take 
 my place in the Senate when I go * no reason 
 except one." 
 
 " What is that? " asked Marsh, already seeing 
 visions of himself in the Senate. 
 
 " Perhaps you won t play the game." 
 
 "Play the game?" 
 
 " Yes, you must play the game. You must be 
 regular, you must be with the organisation, you 
 must act with your majority, if it is a majority, or 
 with your minority, if it is a minority. The suc 
 cess the Republican party has had all these years 
 has been due to its discipline, to its organisation. 
 Every soldier has taken orders and obeyed them. 
 You must play the game." 
 
 Marsh walked up to his hotel, revolving in his 
 mind what the senator had said. He recalled the 
 insistence of everybody that he must play the 
 game. What was the game? He wondered 
 vaguely if he would be a good player and if it 
 would be a good game.
 
 VI 
 
 THE FIRST RECEPTION 
 
 CONGRESS opened with a great bustle 
 and clamour. The new speaker was 
 elected. Marsh was given two assist 
 ant doortenders as his share of the 
 patronage doled out by what was known as the 
 Hog Combine, an organisation of older majority; 
 members who had the influence and votes to con 
 trol the distribution of the pie, and was told he 
 might have a fifteen-hundred-dollar extra clerk 
 later in the session. McManus promptly sent on 
 men for the places. Marsh was assigned to the 
 committees on District of Columbia, Revision of 
 the Laws and Expenditures in the Navy Depart 
 ment. He soon found these latter committees 
 were merely ornamental, like many others, and 
 for the purpose of providing chairmanships and 
 clerks to the faithful. The House droned along 
 for a few days, took the Christmas recess, and 
 came back early in January to square away for 
 the work of the session. 
 
 Marsh and his wife went to Morganville for 
 Christmas and spent a week at the home of Mrs. 
 Marsh s mother, a widow who had a small in- 
 
 53
 
 54 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 come from her husband s life insurance. Dorothy 
 was well and progressing in her studies. They 
 returned to the Bruxton Hotel a day or so before 
 New Year s and Mrs. Marsh took up the consider 
 ation of her social plans. Marsh was in receipt 
 of some little money on an old account, when he 
 was in Morganville, but he was not happy finan 
 cially. His hotel bills were bigger than he had 
 thought they would be and Mrs. Marsh needed 
 more money than he expected she would. 
 
 * Molly," he said one day at breakfast, " when 
 are you going to start something socially? " 
 
 " Pretty soon," Mrs. Marsh replied. " Next 
 week, Wednesday, I am going with some of the 
 other ladies to make the Cabinet calls and on 
 the Thursday after that to make the senatorial 
 calls. Then we are to have our first reception 
 here the week after that." 
 
 "Who s we?" 
 
 " The congressional ladies living in this hotel," 
 said Mrs. Marsh with much dignity. 
 
 There were fifteen or sixteen of them, mostly 
 wives of representatives from the West and South, 
 and not many of them who had been much in 
 Washington, although several of the husbands 
 had served two terms and one had lived in the 
 city during Congresses for six years. She was 
 a quiet woman and not much taken with society, 
 and the two-termers were the social arbiters for 
 that hotel set. 
 
 Four of the ladies, including Mrs. Marsh, en 
 gaged a carriage jointly and set out to make the
 
 THE FIRST RECEPTION 55 
 
 Cabinet calls on the required Wednesday. When 
 Marsh got home that night Mrs. Marsh was 
 waiting for him in the lobby, blazing with indig 
 nation. 
 
 " Oh, Jim," she gasped. 
 
 "What s the matter, Molly?" he asked. 
 " Did a Cabinet woman bite you? " 
 
 " If you knew what I have gone through this 
 afternoon you wouldn t talk to me that way!" 
 she flared. 
 
 " Come upstairs, Molly," soothed Marsh, 
 " and then you can tell me all about it. What 
 happened? " he asked, when they had reached the 
 room. 
 
 "What happened? What didn t happen? I 
 never was so humiliated in my life. If you don t 
 do something about it I ll go straight home to 
 Morganville." 
 
 " But how the devil can I do anything until I 
 know what there is to do? " 
 
 ; Well, Mrs. Going and Mrs. Johnson and 
 Mrs. Exeter and myself took a carnage this 
 afternoon to make our Cabinet calls." 
 
 " Did you have to make them? " 
 
 " Of course; else the Cabinet women won t call 
 on us; you see. It was bad enough at the first 
 house we went to. There was a butler at the 
 door and he took our cards, and pretty soon we 
 were ushered up a stairway and into a room full 
 of women with a lot of them standing in a line, 
 at the head of which was the Cabinet woman, and 
 we were introduced to her and then passed down
 
 5"6 THE PRICE OE PLACE 
 
 the line. Before I got to the end my name had 
 been twisted from Marsh to Smarsh and Larsh 
 and Darsh and the end woman called me Smith, 
 and all of them stuck out clammy hands to us and 
 limply shook them at us, and said: How-do and 
 asked us: How do you like Washington? and 
 then went on talking to one another. A servant 
 shoved us over to a table where there was a sort 
 of pink lemonade and some frowsy ladyfingers on 
 plates and another servant dipped us out a sloppy 
 cup of that pink stuff that tasted a little like that 
 champagne we had at the hotel the first night we 
 came, only very weak. We drank it and then 
 stood round on one foot and another, and not 
 one of the women in the line paid any attention 
 to us or looked as if she knew we were on the 
 earth. At last we escaped." 
 
 She stopped out of breath. 
 
 " That was pretty tough ! " laughed Marsh. 
 
 " You wait," she went on. " That s not the 
 worst. We went to another Cabinet place and 
 it Was about the same there, although this Cabinet 
 woman is from our state and she asked me if I 
 lived in it. And every last one of the ladies in 
 the line said: How-do, Mrs. Parsh; how do you 
 like Washington? and we drank some more of 
 that horrid pink stuff, only this time it was yellow 
 ish. 
 
 " At the next place the Cabinet woman didn t 
 have any one to help her receive. She was doing 
 it alone. She stood in the hall talking to two 
 young squirts of Central American legation
 
 THE FIRST RECEPTION 57 
 
 second-secretaries, and as the butler announced us 
 she never even turned her head, but stuck out her 
 hand at us and said: How-do/ and kept on talk 
 ing. We were shooed into a drawing room and 
 there found a lot of other women, congressmen s 
 wives, too, standing round like a lot of schoolgirls 
 and not knowing what to do. She kept on talk 
 ing and laughing with the two little pie-faced 
 secretaries, and we stood there like a flock of geese 
 until some woman, I don t know who she was, 
 announced she was not going to put up with it 
 any longer, and made for the door. We all fol 
 lowed, and the Cabinet woman never even noticed 
 us. When one of us went up to her and told 
 her * we have enjoyed our visit with you, Mrs. Sec 
 retary, she sort of raised her eyebrows as if to 
 ask: Who the dickens are you and how did you 
 get in here? and kept on talking, and never even 
 said good-bye or anything. I m not going to 
 stand that sort of thing, Jim, and you ve just got 
 to do something about it." 
 
 "All right, all right," soothed her husband; 
 " but come on down to dinner now." 
 
 The hotel that night buzzed with the discussion 
 and comment on the action of the Cabinet women. 
 The older ones tried to pacify the newer ones by 
 telling them how perfunctory these Cabinet calls 
 were, anyhow, and how the only recognition they 
 would get would be some day when a carriage 
 would drive up in front of the hotel and a foot 
 man come in and hand the clerk a lot of cards for 
 the ladies who had left their cards, and ten to one
 
 58 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 the Cabinet woman wouldn t be in the carriage 
 even. 
 
 Then came the first grand reception of the con 
 gressional ladies of the hotel. There was much 
 excitement and meetings were held in the lobbies 
 and in the parlours for several days to discuss 
 plans, arrange details and make out lists of those to 
 whom cards should be sent. The older ones fixed 
 up the notices of the society columns of the news 
 papers, telling how the ladies of the hotel would 
 receive on Tuesday afternoon, and giving their 
 names. Next morning the papers were eagerly 
 read to see if the notice was printed. It was there 
 near the top, and Mrs. James Marsh cut the items 
 out of her papers and carefully preserved them. 
 It was the first time her name had appeared in the 
 social columns of a newspaper printed outside of 
 Morganville, but she firmly resolved it should not 
 be the last. 
 
 There were long discussions over the list of 
 those to whom cards should be sent. Some were 
 for including this one and excluding that one. 
 " You must send cards to everybody," explained 
 the third-termer, the quiet woman who didn t care 
 for society. " Then, no matter if none of the 
 big ones comes, you can send the papers a notice 
 saying: Among those invited were, and give all 
 the best names, and nobody but the society editors 
 will know they didn t come, especially nobody 
 back home when we send the papers out." 
 
 So everybody was invited, and there was much 
 planning of costumes and remodelling of gowns
 
 THE FIRST RECEPTION 59 
 
 and discussing over the proper places to put the 
 ferns and palms and rubber plants that were to be 
 hired from the near-by florist to supplement the 
 dusty foliage that stood permanently about the 
 hotel lobby and in the parlours. 
 
 The momentous afternoon came. At four 
 o clock the congressional ladies of the Bruxton 
 Hotel gathered in the parlours. Each lady wore 
 her fussiest specimen of the home dressmaker s art, 
 and each one carried a bunch of pink carnations 
 or pink sweet-peas tied with pink gauze each 
 one except Mrs. Marsh. She carried a cluster of 
 roses, and some of the other women wondered 
 why they hadn t bought roses, too, for Mrs. 
 Marsh s flowers gave her an air of distinction. 
 Besides, hers were tied with satin ribbon and not 
 with pink gauze. All the ladies had on white 
 gloves. There was a faint odour of benzine, 
 mingled with the heavy perfumes some of them 
 used, and the frozen florist-smell of the cold 
 storage flowers. They looked self-conscious and 
 important and most of them were nervous. Not 
 many of them ever had participated in so 
 fashionable a function as this, and each watched 
 the other to see what should be done, copying 
 the airs of those who appeared at ease. These 
 sophisticated ones, really nervous themselves, took 
 their cues from the older ones who had been to big 
 receptions and had observed at close range the 
 manners of the grandes dames. 
 
 Guests who came to the reception were expected 
 to turn sharply to the right after they entered,
 
 6o THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 pass along a corridor and thence into the parlours. 
 A cluster of baskets, all tied with ribbons and each 
 bearing a card on which was the name of one of 
 the ladies in the receiving line, was in this corri 
 dor on a table. The visitors were expected to 
 drop their three cards two for the husband and 
 one for the wife into whichever of these 
 baskets belonged to the receiving lady who was 
 the particular object of that particular call. Thus 
 Mrs. Marsh s friends would drop their cards in 
 Mrs. Marsh s basket, and Mrs. Marsh would 
 know, after the reception, to whom she owed calls. 
 A bowl of punch had been provided, and a negro 
 in white gloves and a spotted dress-suit was serv 
 ing it. It was near-champagne punch two 
 bottles of domestic brand in a gallon of water, 
 with sugar and lemons and a few other things 
 added. There were small cakes on plates and 
 little lettuce sandwiches. 
 
 The women stood in groups, looking like weep 
 ing willows and waiting for their callers. It was 
 ghastly for the first half hour, for nobody came, 
 and a few of the newer congressional ladies of the 
 Bruxton Hotel were on the verge of tears over 
 the failure of their debuts as hostesses. In 
 about three-quarters of an hour a few women 
 dropped in, the Bruxton ladies formed them 
 selves into a wavering line, and these guests, who 
 were from the congressional sets in the other 
 hotels, were presented in turn. They stood about 
 for a few moments, chatted, asked their hostesses 
 how they liked Washington, assured them they
 
 THE FIRST RECEPTION 61 
 
 would like Washington very much "the social 
 life is so interesting " had some punch and 
 slipped away. At a half after five there had been 
 forty or fifty callers and the reception was an as 
 sured success. The congressional ladies of the 
 Bruxton Hotel were jubilant; but they still clung 
 desperately to their flowers, and listened eagerly 
 for the roll of carriage wheels on the asphalt out 
 side, as they knew the most fashionable women 
 delayed their calls until the last. 
 
 There had been no carriage calls, but at twenty 
 minutes to six a carriage drove up, a real carriage 
 with a liveried coachmart, a liveried footman and 
 a crest on the door of it. It could be nothing less 
 than a Cabinet carriage, the excited ladies said, 
 as they peered through the window, and there was 
 a great fluttering of hearts and fans and hurried 
 scramble to get in line to receive the distinguished 
 guest. They waited. No one came. Then a 
 curious one peeked through a window. 
 
 " Oh, dear," she said, " she s not coming in. 
 She s only leaving cards! " 
 
 It was true enough. The distinguished guest 
 who was a Cabinet lady, for some of the Brux 
 ton ladies recognised the carriage didn t deign 
 to call in person. Instead, if she happened to be 
 in the carriage, which no one could tell, she sent 
 her footman to the door with her three cards 
 two for the secretary and one for herself and 
 the footman gave the cards to the doorman, hur 
 ried back, hopped on the box, and the carriage 
 rumbled away, the ceremony being over. The
 
 62 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 Bruxton ladies were disappointed, of course, for 
 they hoped she might stay a minute or two with 
 them, but there was much satisfaction in the 
 thought that a real one had left cards. That 
 meant a lot, especially for the fortunate and 
 envied Bruxton lady for whom the cards were left, 
 although all the ladies felt they shared, to some 
 extent, in the reflected glory of the event. There 
 were a few more ordinary calls, and at six o clock 
 the husbands came along, tested the punch, then 
 left immediately for the bar. The women hurried 
 to gather their baskets and inspect their cards. 
 
 There was much interest and excitement. 
 Each of the Bruxton congressional ladies shufled 
 rapidly through her cards, sorting them into the 
 groups of threes, to see if the Cabinet lady had 
 called on her. Each hoped she was the magnet 
 that drew the social leader to the reception, and 
 each magnanimously decided not to be too haughty 
 about it, but to take a call from a, Cabinet lady 
 as a matter of course. As the Bruxton ladies 
 finished their cards, some of them sorting them 
 out twice to make sure, each one glanced covertly 
 round to see who had secured the prize. They 
 were all disappointed and they all showed it. The 
 cards of the Cabinet lady were not in any basket. 
 Instead, they were found on one of the small 
 tables that had held the baskets. 
 
 It was a contretemps, to be sure. The foot 
 man, being rather bored of jumping off the car 
 riage and on it again and handing cards in at
 
 THE FIRST RECEPTION 63 
 
 doors, had been careless in telling the doorman 
 for whom the cards were intended. The door 
 man didn t understand the name, and the footman 
 was gone before he had a chance to ask. He was 
 a wise doorman. He had been at that hotel for 
 years and had seen many receptions. He knew 
 how important this call was, and he refused to 
 complicate matters by guessing at the name of 
 the favoured lady. So he tiptoed in, laid the 
 cards on the table in neutral ground, tiptoed out 
 again and said nothing. He was, as remarked, 
 a wise doorman. 
 
 Wherefore, the question that agitated the 
 Bruxton Hotel that night was this which one 
 of the ladies was entitled to the call? The mag 
 nitude and importance of the problem was im 
 pressed on the husbands. The women gathered 
 in little groups after dinner and viewed the mat 
 ter in all its lights. Arguments were privately 
 brought forward, tending to show how the pro 
 ponent of the argument was the person who 
 should have the cards, and husbands were ap 
 pealed to to discover if these feminine reasons 
 might not be the real ones. Most of this was done 
 privately in whispers and in groups. Some of the 
 women led their husbands aside to ask them to sug 
 gest a real reason for the wife to advance to up 
 hold her contention that the cards should be hers. 
 Outwardly, however, the women were very sweet 
 and self-sacrificing. Each insisted that the other 
 should have the cards, and there was a babble of
 
 64 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 sugary, " Oh, you take them, my dear," and other 
 honied expressions, that were belied by the steely 
 looks in the eyes of the soft speakers. 
 
 Each woman wanted the cards desperately, pas 
 sionately, but each woman was loath to advance 
 her claim publicly. The cards were on the table, 
 which had been moved out into the lobby. The 
 women eyed them longingly, but no one ventured to 
 pick them up. Mrs. Marsh had not taken much 
 part in the discussion. She had asked her husband 
 if there was any reason why this particular Cabinet 
 woman could call on her, and whether Marsh 
 knew the secretary. 
 
 " Don t know him from a side of sole leather," 
 Marsh replied. " Haven t even seen him yet." 
 
 Presently Mrs. Marsh arose, walked over to 
 the table and picked up the cards. She turned to 
 the astonished women in the lobby and said: 
 " Ladies, I see no one cares particularly for these 
 cards, and I would like them very much for sou 
 venirs of my first reception in Washington. 
 I ll take them, if you don t mind." She smiled 
 radiantly at them. " Of course you won t mind, 
 will you? " she asked sweetly. 
 
 " Oh, certainly not; you are quite welcome to 
 them," some of the women said acidly. Others 
 only stared at her as if appalled by her audacity. 
 Mrs. Marsh bowed her thanks and walked off, 
 followed by the whispered comment, " Well, of 
 all the nerve ! " Mrs. Marsh affected not to hear. 
 She sailed across the room and took the elevator, 
 clutching the precious cards to her bosom.
 
 THE FIRST RECEPTION 65 
 
 Next morning the ladies had their final thrill. 
 The papers came and their names were all printed 
 in the society columns as giving " a charming re 
 ception." Some of the names of those invited 
 were printed. It was observed the papers said: 
 " Mrs. John Marsh, wife of Representative 
 John Marsh, wore a handsome gown of brown 
 velvet with diamonds." That was the only 
 gown described. They all wondered where 
 the society editors got their information all but 
 Mrs. Marsh. She didn t wonder. She knew, 
 for she had written notes to the society editors in 
 which that interesting and important information 
 was communicated.
 
 VII 
 
 NOTHING FIT TO WEAR 
 
 MARSH found his work on the Dis 
 trict of Columbia Committee in 
 teresting but laborious. The com 
 mittee was charged with making the 
 appropriations for the Government s share of the 
 municipal expenses of the city of Washington and 
 passed on all new projects for improvements in 
 addition to legislating for the city, making laws 
 instead of ordinances as the ordinary city govern 
 ing body does. He soon learned the govern 
 ment of the city, aside from the committees in the 
 House and Senate, is vested in a commission of 
 three men, appointed by the president, one of 
 whom is a Republican, one a Democrat, and the 
 third an officer of the engineer corps of the army, 
 who has charge of all the engineering projects in 
 the District of Columbia. 
 
 He also learned that as there is very little man 
 ufacturing in Washington and not a great deal of 
 wholesale trade, the chief industry of most 
 citizens is dealing in real estate, and he became 
 early aware that the real-estate dealers, who were 
 in cliques, headed by various banking interests 
 largely, were very active in promoting their par- 
 
 66
 
 NOTHING FIT TO WEAR 67 
 
 ticular schemes. They all had property they 
 wanted to sell to the Government for parks, all 
 had property through which streets must be 
 opened, they said, in order to accommodate the 
 growth of the city and, incidentally although 
 they never said this their subdivisions. The 
 public-utilities men had plans for extensions of 
 lines and renewal and relaxing of charters, and 
 he soon thought that every citizen of the district 
 who owned any property or hoped to own any or 
 had any other axe to grind, wanted the District of 
 Columbia to legislate for his individual benefit. 
 
 Nor was he long in finding out that a represen 
 tative in Congress is, for the most part, merely a 
 sublimated errand boy for his constituents. He 
 had a large mail, and it seemed to him as if every 
 person in his district, who by any possibility could 
 have voted for him, wanted a postmastership; a 
 rural-free-delivery carrier appointed, or had some 
 task for him to do at one of the departments or 
 some favour to be granted or arranged for. He 
 spent a good deal of his time running from one de 
 partment to another, interviewing chiefs of bu 
 reaus, assistant secretaries, and occasionally talk 
 ing with the secretaries themselves. He went sev 
 eral times to the White House, where the presi 
 dent always received him cordially, recalling his 
 first visit with McManus, and usually gave him 
 what he wanted. 
 
 He found out about the seed distribution and 
 the document distribution, and early learned the 
 efficacy of well-placed seeds and public documents
 
 68 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 as vote-holders. He answered every letter, ran 
 every errand, worked conscientiously in his com 
 mittee, where his good knowledge of the law was 
 soon appreciated and where there was no disposi 
 tion on the part of the other members to deprive 
 him of all the work he would do. He met many 
 of the leading men of Washington, bankers, busi 
 ness men, real-estate dealers and professional men, 
 and cultivated acquaintance in the House among 
 the other members. No big question, aside from 
 the shaping of the appropriation bills, was up, but 
 he always voted right when there was a vote, and 
 he went in to see the speaker often and grew to 
 like that forceful, unconventional person. He 
 was a busy man. 
 
 The House was in the doldrums. Marsh at 
 tended the sessions regularly, studied parliamen 
 tary practice and precedent, listened to the 
 speeches but did not seek recognition for himself, 
 although the speaker had told him that if he had 
 a speech in his system he would recognise him at 
 some opportune time. 
 
 " Keep quiet," advised some of the older mem 
 bers with whom he had become friendly. " Don t 
 say anything until there is something worth while 
 to say. Don t get a reputation as a windjam 
 mer." 
 
 He felt one or two speeches boiling in him, but 
 after he had examined his symptoms carefully he 
 concluded that what he thought was boiling was 
 merely simmering and he refrained. He learned 
 that Senator Paxton was right when he said
 
 NOTHING FIT TO WEAR 69 
 
 a new member of the House is of no conse 
 quence to himself or to any one else except as a 
 voting unit, and he cultivated the senator, listened 
 to him attentively and acted on his advice. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh continued her social campaigning. 
 She made her congressional and senatorial calls 
 religiously, clubbing with other women for a car 
 riage and rushing from house to house and from 
 apartment to apartment on the appointed days. 
 She was worried about her clothes. They were 
 as good as the gowns of any of the ladies in the 
 Bruxton, but when she went to other places she 
 felt there was something about them that stamped 
 them as unmistakably homemade when viewed 
 alongside the dresses of the women who had been 
 in Washington longer than she had. 
 
 One afternoon she went to a reception given 
 by the wife of a bureau chief in one of the de 
 partments. It was a pretentious affair. The 
 hostess lived in a big apartment house, and that 
 apartment house had a broad sweep of lobby 
 on the ground floor, with near-onyx pillars that 
 looked as if they were made of vari-coloured soap 
 and much gaudy ornamentation. The reception 
 was held in this lobby. There was a quantity of 
 flowers, a teatable, a punch bowl, and the servants 
 were experienced men, sent by the city s foremost 
 caterer, who knew just how things should be done. 
 Receiving with this hostess there were fifteen or 
 twenty women, wives of representatives, the wife 
 of one of the senators from the home state of 
 the hostess, and the wives of several important
 
 7 o THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 bureau heads, together with the wife of an as 
 sistant secretary. There was a small orchestra 
 that played behind a bank of palms, and altogether 
 it was a smart function. 
 
 That night Mrs. Marsh spoke about it to her 
 husband. " I don t see how she does it," Mrs. 
 Marsh said. " Her husband is only a bureau 
 chief and doesn t get more than five thousand dol 
 lars a year. It must cost a lot to live in that 
 apartment house and they have two daughters in 
 school. Besides, I hear they have no private in 
 come." 
 
 " It s beyond me," said Marsh. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh pursued the subject further. She 
 asked Mrs. Brayton, who had been in Wash 
 ington for eight years, how this woman, and 
 many other women like her, could afford such 
 splurges. 
 
 " It s simple enough," replied Mrs. Brayton. 
 " She gives only one of these in a season, or at 
 most two. I don t know what they cost, but I 
 suppose a couple of hundred dollars each, maybe 
 more for the embroideries of life are expensive 
 in Washington. But if you could see how they 
 live when they are not on dress-parade you 
 wouldn t ask. All their comfort and all their 
 pleasure is sacrificed for these exhibitions. If you 
 were to go upstairs to her apartment you would 
 find it is very small. You would find a gas 
 plate in the bathroom, where they get breakfasts. 
 You would see the husband going out every morn 
 ing to bring back a few rolls or something in a
 
 NOTHING FIT TO WEAR 71 
 
 paper bag. You would see that she wears a 
 kimono all day and has but two smart gowns, but 
 that these are very smart. 
 
 * You would see that she and her husband 
 economise in every possible way, that they scrimp 
 and eat their meals at a cheap boarding house, 
 and actually turn off the electric light and sit m 
 the dark to save as much as they can. When you 
 make your party call and go up to her apartment 
 you will find everything has been tucked away, 
 hidden behind screens, to give an idea of 
 spaciousness that doesn t exist. You will see the 
 beds are sofa beds and look like lounges on these 
 occasions, and you will observe that the husband s 
 clothes are shiny and that he is always in the 
 background. The hardships they endure to make 
 these displays are positively sickening; but she is 
 socially ambitious a climber and she will 
 stop at nothing in the way of hidden discomforts 
 for herself and her husband in order that she may 
 appear radiant and successful on the days she 
 makes her splurge. They will eat dry rolls for 
 breakfast for a week so that she may have a car 
 riage on the day she goes out to peddle her paste 
 boards." 
 
 "Peddle her pasteboards?" repeated Mrs. 
 Marsh. 
 
 " Yes, drive about and leave her cards on peo 
 ple she has never seen and who have never seen 
 her, but whom she hopes to see, or even have at 
 one of her affairs if assiduous cultivation will 
 bring it about."
 
 72 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " Are there many women like that in Washing 
 ton?" 
 
 " Dozens, my dear; scores of them. And do 
 not think they are all in the official class either. 
 Some of the people who live in the biggest houses 
 and have the most exclusive connections are so 
 hard up, in reality, they resort to the pettiest 
 economies and use all sorts of subterfuges to get 
 money for their shows. If you could look over 
 the books of the tradesmen of this city you would 
 see what I mean." 
 
 A few days later Mrs. Paxton, wife of the 
 senator, called on Mrs. Marsh. 
 
 " Let me go up to your rooms," she said. " I 
 want to have a quiet chat with you." 
 
 Mrs. Paxton was a gracious, cultured, stylish 
 woman of fifty-five. She gowned herself with 
 much distinction. She had been in Washington 
 for many years and was a leader in the most 
 exclusive official set, besides being a guest at the 
 biggest houses of resident and ambassadorial 
 society. 
 
 She sat down in the room the Marshes used as 
 a parlour. It was a room of good size with an 
 alcove. There was a bath adjoining and another 
 bedroom. Mrs. Paxton removed her gloves and 
 settled herself comfortably in her chair. 
 
 You are planning to have a house of your 
 own one of these days, I suppose? " she remarked. 
 
 " Oh, yes," Mrs. Marsh replied. " We came 
 here temporarily, so that we could make sure be 
 fore we took a lease."
 
 NOTHING FIT TO WEAR 73 
 
 Mrs. Paxton smiled innocently. She knew why 
 the Marshes were at the Bruxton. 
 
 " Still," continued Mrs. Paxton, " one can be 
 comfortable in a hotel. You are quite cosy and 
 homelike here." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh had rearranged the furniture, 
 added a few of her own possessions and a picture 
 or two. The rooms were attractive. 
 
 " But," continued Mrs. Paxton vivaciously, " I 
 didn t come here to talk about houses or hotels. 
 I have something far more important than that 
 to say. You know the senator and I are inter 
 ested in you and your husband? " 
 
 Mrs. Marsh murmured her gratitude. 
 
 " Well, I am giving a reception at my home 
 three weeks from Thursday and I want you to 
 come and help me receive." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh s heart beat rapidly. To help the 
 distinguished and fashionable Mrs. Paxton re 
 ceive was a big step forward! 
 
 " Of course," continued Mrs. Paxton, " it is a 
 state day reception, you know, when Mrs. Rogers, 
 the wife of my husband s colleague, and myself 
 receive all the people from our state who care to 
 come, and the other congressional ladies from the 
 state will be in the line too." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh tried not to show her disappoint 
 ment in her face, but didn t succeed very well. 
 The astute Mrs. Paxton noticed her expression of 
 dismay. 
 
 " It is one of those political-social functions we 
 have to give every year. I assure you you have
 
 74 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 no idea how much we congressional wives can do 
 socially to aid our husbands. And I know you 
 will be of very great assistance to Mr. Marsh and 
 that you will be a great success socially. Later 
 in the season I shall be giving more exclusive af 
 fairs, and I shall count on you to assist me." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh became radiant again. She 
 promised to come to the state reception, and they 
 chatted on various topics for a few minutes. 
 Then Mrs. Marsh plunged into what was dear 
 est to her heart. " By the way, Mrs. Paxton," 
 she said, " can you direct me to a good dressmaker 
 here?" 
 
 Mrs. Paxton looked quickly at her. " Why," 
 she replied, " I know several. What sort of a 
 gown are you planning?" 
 
 " Oh, I don t know exactly. I need several. 
 You see " She hesitated. 
 
 " Yes 1 " Mrs. Paxton was very sympathetic. 
 
 " Oh," confessed Mrs. Marsh, " the wardrobe 
 I brought with me doesn t seem to be right. My 
 dresses are of good material and were made by 
 our best woman, but they lack something. They 
 are too elaborate. The dressmaker put too many 
 trimmings on them. They haven t that distinc 
 tion I notice here. They look homemade, and I 
 hate them," she concluded vehemently. 
 
 Mrs. Paxton smiled indulgently. " I know ex 
 actly how you feel," she said kindly. " I know 
 how you had your gowns made from the very 
 latest fashion books from Paris and New York, but 
 I know also the ways of the country dressmaker
 
 NOTHING FIT TO WEAR 75 
 
 and what she does with the book design. For 
 political reasons I still have a few gowns made 
 out home, but " she shuddered "I never 
 wear them here. Maybe I can help you." 
 
 She talked so wisely and so frankly Mrs. 
 Marsh was completely won to her, and went to 
 her closets and brought out her entire wardrobe. 
 The elder woman discussed the dresses with her, 
 pointing out their deficiencies, suggesting certain 
 alterations, all in the line of simplicity, and the 
 elimination of the choicest decorative creations of 
 the home artiste, advising new gowns of certain 
 kinds, speaking illuminatingly of the trend of the 
 styles, of what the best-dressed women were wear 
 ing, and discussing the art of dress in all its phases 
 and particularly in its Washington phase. 
 
 They planned some new gowns, three in num 
 ber, for a beginning. There was to be a street 
 dress, tailored, and a tailored calling dress, a little 
 more elaborate that the plain street one. Then 
 there was to be a gown suitable for the afternoon, 
 with a removable guimpe, so that it could be made 
 into an evening gown by a feminine miracle which 
 apparently they both understood. 
 
 Mrs. Paxton introduced the subject of price dis 
 creetly. She told Mrs. Marsh the street gown 
 would cost her about eighty-five dollars at a good 
 tailor s, the more elaborate tailored gown about 
 one hundred and fifteen dollars, and the other 
 gown a hundred dollars. Three hundred dol 
 lars would start Mrs. Marsh on the road to cor 
 rect gowning, and she gave her the names of a
 
 7.8 [THE PRICE OE PLACE 
 
 tailor an d a .dressmaker who, on Mrs. Paxton s 
 introduction, would give her good service. Mrs. 
 Marsh absorbed the information. She was eager 
 and enthusiastic, for her wardrobe, although it 
 seemed regal when she left Morganville, was far 
 from meeting her already educated Washington 
 needs. 
 
 When Marsh came home to dinner she intro 
 duced the subject of new gowns diplomatically. 
 
 Jim," she began, " I think you should have a 
 new dress-suit." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said Marsh, " I don t need one. 
 The one IVe got is good enough. I ve only had 
 it four years." 
 
 " Well," continued Mrs. Marsh decisively, " I 
 think you should have a new one. I notice the 
 best-dressed men wear evening clothes that fit bet 
 ter than yours do, and have a newer cut and seem 
 much handsomer. You know, Jim," she said, 
 coming over to him and putting an arm about 
 his neck, " I don t want to see my big, handsome 
 husband wearing evening clothes that look shabby 
 and out-of-date beside those of other men." 
 
 " Oh, well," answered Marsh, " I guess these 
 will do for a while yet. Besides, Molly, if I wait 
 until I get home I can get a new suit forty or fifty 
 dollars cheaper than I can get one here or in New 
 York." 
 
 " That s just it! If you go -out to that country 
 tailor you ll get another of those horrible, ill-fit 
 ting affairs." 
 
 " Country tailor ! " exclaimed Marsh.
 
 NOTHING FIT TO WEAR 77 
 
 Bannard has been making my clothes for 
 years ! Since when did you get so uppish about 
 country tailors? That dressmaker of yours cer 
 tainly turned you out in good style." 
 
 " She didn t, Jim," protested Mrs. Marsh. 
 " I haven t a single dress I ought to wear. 
 They don t fit and they are all fussed up with con 
 coctions she invented out of her own head, I guess, 
 that I once thought were fine, and that I now know 
 are merely things to laugh at. My dresses all 
 look homemade. There isn t a bit of style or dis 
 tinction about them. I ve got to have some new 
 one, and most of the old ones must be made over." 
 
 Marsh looked grave. " Molly," he said, " I 
 wouldn t go in for much of that if I were you. 
 It is costing a heap to live here. You know we 
 pay two hundred dollars a month for these rooms 
 and our food, and that doesn t leave much out of 
 what I get for other things. It s almost half of 
 my salary. Besides I ve got to run again this 
 fall, and I need all I can get for that, and there s 
 not much coming in from the office. Can t you 
 wait?" 
 
 " No, I can t," pouted Mrs. Marsh. " Mrs. 
 Senator Paxton was here to-day, and she very 
 kindly pointed out to me what I should do to be 
 well-dressed." 
 
 " Darn Mrs. Senator Paxton ! " exclaimed 
 Marsh. 
 
 " She was doing it for our good, yours as well 
 as mine," protested Mrs. Marsh. " I have my 
 social way to make here and I want to keep you
 
 78 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 in your career, and the first thing I must do is to 
 be well-dressed. I ve simply got to have some 
 new clothes." 
 
 " How much will it cost? " 
 
 " I don t know yet. Mrs. Paxton gave me the 
 names of a tailor and a- dressmaker, and I m go 
 ing to see them to-morrow." 
 
 * Marsh was silent for a few moments. " Well, 
 be as easy on me as you can, Molly," he finally 
 said. 
 
 A few days later Marsh came home in high 
 spirits. " Don t worry about those clothes of 
 yours, Molly," he said. " I m going to make 
 some money outside of my salary." 
 
 She rushed over to him ; put her arms about him 
 and kissed him. " Jim," she gurgled, " you are a 
 dear! How are you going to make it?" 
 
 " One of the men I know up at the House gave 
 me a tip on the stock market. I ve bought three 
 hundred shares and margined it five points. It 
 took fifteen hundred dollars, about all I had in 
 the bank, but I ll have a lot in a few days. It s 
 going up sure." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh didn t know what he was talking 
 about, but she accepted his assurances that he 
 would make some money. The next day she or 
 dered two suits of Mrs. Paxton s tailor and a 
 gown from the fashionable dressmaker.
 
 yin 
 
 THE OBLIGING BANKER 
 
 MARSH watched his stock speculation 
 carefully. He had had some lit 
 tle experience in buying stocks, 
 generally with negligible results, and 
 had dabbled in wheat and pork through 
 the local broker s office in Morganville. Like 
 nearly everybody else in his position he had 
 invested a few times in mining stocks, but had 
 made no money. The man who gave him the 
 information, Charles H. Rambo, was a repre 
 sentative from a Middle-Western state, who had 
 been in Congress for twelve years six terms. 
 He lived comfortably on a good street in the 
 northwestern section of the city, was a member 
 of an important committee, and though he was in 
 no sense one of the leaders of the majority, he was 
 in the close-up second flight, had the confidence of 
 the real leaders and was generally aware of pol 
 icies and plans before the rank and file. He was 
 a sort of outer guard, not especially in the circle, 
 but still of it enough to know what was going on 
 and to be useful in many ways. He was thrifty, 
 also, and a wolf for money. 
 
 79
 
 8o THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 The stock moved by fractions for a few days, 
 neither gaining nor losing much. Then it began 
 to climb bout a point a day. At the end of a 
 week Marsh had a profit of a clear four points. 
 He met Rambo. 
 
 " Did you get any of that Stuff I told you 
 about? " asked Rambo. 
 
 " Three hundred shares." 
 
 "Sell it," said Rambo. 
 
 " But," protested Marsh, " it s doing well. 
 I ve got four points in already." 
 
 " Sell it," repeated Rambo. " This isn t the 
 only stock in the world, and you re twelve hun 
 dred dollars to the good. The Stock Exchange 
 isn t going to close up, you know. There ll be 
 other stocks." 
 
 " Don t you think it will go any higher? " 
 
 " Marsh," said Rambo, " let me tell you some 
 thing. Washington is all cluttered up with men 
 who can tell you when to buy stocks, but there are 
 mighty few of them who can and will tell you 
 when to sell. The person who is of real value to 
 a man who is speculating in stocks isn t the one 
 who tells you when to buy. The real asset is the 
 man who knows when to sell. That s the chap 
 you want to tie to. And let me give you another 
 tip while I m on the subject. Never buy any 
 thing you can t sell. I don t care if it is a stock 
 in the most profitable concern going, don t buy it 
 unless you know exactly where you can sell it when 
 you want to. Stick to the listed stuff. There s 
 always a market for that, and there may come
 
 (THE OBLIGING BANKER 81 
 
 times when you want quick money. Also, sell 
 that three hundred shares of yours." 
 
 He walked away. Marsh sold his stock, took 
 his profit, and for two days suffered agonies of re 
 morse over the lost opportunities, for the stock 
 went up three more points. Then one day the 
 whole market broke and his stock began sliding 
 down rapidly. It wasn t long until it was a point 
 below where he had bought it. 
 
 "What did I tell you?" asked Rambo, who 
 met him in the cloakroom. " You remember 
 what I said. The chap to tie to in stock specula 
 tion is the chap who knows when to sell. Any 
 idiot who has any knowledge of conditions knows 
 when to buy." 
 
 Meantime cards for one of the big White 
 House receptions had come in, and Mrs. Marsh 
 spent feverish days with her dressmaker and fev 
 erish nights thinking about her gown, and was on 
 the verge of a collapse, because of the delays and 
 bother she had with the overtaxed modiste, who 
 was trying to finish her gown and the gowns for 
 twenty other equally insistent ladies, satisfy them 
 all, and maintain her mental balance during the 
 process. 
 
 The gown came home on the afternoon before 
 the reception. It was a success. Marsh s eyes 
 brightened when he had finished hooking it, and 
 Mrs. Marsh stood before him, radiant and for 
 the first time in her life correctly and stylishly at 
 tired in every detail. The process of providing 
 for these details had taken a considerable amount
 
 82 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 more than the hundred dollars the gown was to 
 cost, which, it was discovered later, was increased 
 visibly by the subtle addition of " extras " in the 
 bill. But Marsh thought it money well spent 
 when he saw the completed result, and he was 
 proud of his wife as he escorted her downstairs 
 and to the carriage he and another representative 
 living in the house had hired for the occasion. 
 
 This was before the addition of the wings to 
 the White House under the direction of Presi 
 dent Roosevelt, and the Marsh carriage joined 
 the long string of vehicles that was proceeding 
 slowly up to the front portico. It took half an 
 hour to get to the door, and inside the place was 
 jammed. The red-coated Marine Band was 
 crashing out lively music, the halls and stairway 
 were abloom with flowers, the big East Room was 
 so crowded it was impossible to move about. Pres 
 ently the presidential party came down the stair 
 way and the reception began. Mrs. Marsh had 
 been jostled until she felt ill. A clumsy man 
 had stepped on her dress. Her lace caught in 
 the sword of an officer and she was sure it was 
 torn. She had seen only a few people she knew, 
 but she clung to her husband s arm and beamed, for 
 she was at % White House reception, an invited 
 guest, and it would look fine in the Morganville 
 paper and cause much comment among the set on 
 the hill where she had shone in former days. 
 
 They moved slowly along in the line. It took 
 half an hour to get to the president, who was 
 standing at the head of the reception group shak-
 
 THE OBLIGING BANKER 83 
 
 ing hands rapidly, smiling like an automaton and 
 telling each one how happy he was to have the 
 honour. His lips smiled, but there was a very 
 tired look in his eyes. Mrs. Marsh noticed 
 he was quick to grasp the hand of those presented, 
 and quick to let go, before any muscular patriot 
 had a chance to grip him, and she was quite flus 
 tered when the aide who was making the pre 
 sentations leaned over and said sharply: 
 " Names, please." 
 
 " Representative and Mrs. James Marsh," said 
 the aide, in an automatic, staccato fashion. The 
 president bowed to Mrs. Marsh, shook hands 
 with her, said something about being pleased to 
 greet her, turned to grasp Marsh s hand and 
 recognised him. " Glad to see you, Marsh," he 
 said. " Hope you are enjoying yourself." 
 
 Marsh lingered to talk, but he felt an insistent, 
 steady pressure on his back. Before he knew 
 what had happened he was far down the line with 
 Mrs. Marsh, bowing to the other men and women 
 who were of the reception party, while the aides 
 were shoving others past the president as they 
 had shoved him. 
 
 The Marshes tried to move about the room, 
 but could not because of the crowd. They noticed 
 women there in the most elaborate gowns, spark 
 ling in their diamonds and they noticed others, 
 evidently tourists, who wore street suits and shirt 
 waists. There were men in full evening dress 
 with white ties and gloves and waistcoats, and 
 men in dinner jackets and black ties. The army
 
 84 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 and navy officers wore their dress uniforms, the 
 diplomats the uniforms of their ranks, and alto 
 gether it was a rather enlivening spectacle; but 
 the crowd was so dense, and the room was so 
 warm and the mingled odour of perfumes, flowers 
 and humanity so heavy that the Marshes were 
 glad to get away, especially after they discovered 
 how hopeless it was to get near the refreshments, 
 which were served from a buffet in an adjoining 
 room. Next day the papers, in their descrip 
 tions of the gowns the ladies wore, carried a line 
 about Mrs. Marsh s gown. She had sent that de 
 tail to the society editors herself. 
 
 Marsh worked hard in his committee and at 
 tended the sessions of the House regularly. 
 Several important Philippine questions were up, 
 and there were two or three occasions when he 
 thought he would ask the speaker for recognition 
 for an hour, in order to make a set speech and 
 show his colleagues what manner of an orator he 
 was. He had some pronounced views on the sub 
 ject of imperialism, well within scope of party 
 policy, and he felt he could do a good stroke for 
 himself by talking. He met Senator Paxton in 
 the Capitol and told him what he had in mind. 
 
 " Marsh," said Paxton, " I wouldn t do it if 
 I were you not yet. There s nothing in this im 
 perialism business that needs any comment from 
 you at this time. Don t be in such a rush to ex 
 hibit your oratory. Keep quiet, if you can, and 
 wait for a real opportunity. There are not forty 
 votes changed in a year by speechmaking in the
 
 85; 
 
 House or in the Senate, for the speeches you hear 
 are only the embroidery, the ornamentation of the 
 serious work of Congress. We do our legislat 
 ing in committees, as you have discovered, and 
 bring the product of our deliberations out for the 
 House to look over. The changes that are made 
 then are made because of suggestions in debate 
 and because of personal influence: You could 
 talk a week in favour of a committee bill or against 
 it, and when the line-up came you would find it 
 would be partisan, almost exclusively, and as pre 
 viously arranged and planned for. 
 
 " Oratory is a lost art, they say, but I don t 
 think that is true. We have plenty of good ora 
 tors, but we don t need them the way we used to. 
 We have other and wider and better methods for 
 obtaining publicity. To be sure we use speakers 
 in our campaigns, but that is merely for the pur 
 pose of publicity and to keep the candidates ad 
 vertised, which is just as necessary as it is to keep 
 a brand of soap advertised. Political oratory has 
 little effect on changing votes, for all the orator 
 can say on any given subject has probably already 
 been said in the newspapers and elsewhere, and 
 most of the hearers know as much, if not more, 
 than the speaker. In the next ten years you will 
 find the people will refuse to hear any but the big 
 gest men in the party, or in any party, and that 
 they will go to hear the biggest ones only on the 
 basis of a show, and not because they want to 
 hear issues discussed. So far as this Congress 
 is concerned, or any .Congress, it is the personal
 
 86 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 equation that counts, the knowledge of men, the 
 give-and-take method, the power of organisation, 
 the desire of every individual to remain in office. 
 These are the things that direct legislation, not 
 oratory. You will find many men in this House 
 and in the Senate who haven t the range of ex 
 pression of a well-defined clam, or a much greater 
 variety of oratorical ideas than an educated hen, 
 who get what they go after; while if you observe 
 the great orators, you will discover full galleries, 
 filled with people who want to see the show, and 
 a very bored congregation of senators or repre 
 sentatives, who are wondering how soon the ora 
 tor will get through so that they may go on with 
 the work they have in hand, and secure the various 
 things they want to help keep them in office. 
 
 " I m not saying it isn t a good thing to shoot 
 off a few fireworks now and then, but I am saying 
 that the great orators of this day are not half so 
 potent legislatively as the men who say compara 
 tively nothing, but who move about among their 
 fellows, understand what they want, and go after 
 it intelligently, on the basis of you help me to 
 this and I ll help you to that. " 
 
 Senator Paxton lighted a cigar, gave one to 
 Marsh, patted him on the shoulder in a fatherly 
 manner and moved away. Marsh looked after 
 him. So far as he knew Paxton had not made a 
 set speech in several sessions, although he ap 
 peared frequently in debate, speaking briefly from 
 time to time and always understanding his sub 
 ject; and yet Paxton had the reputation of being
 
 THE OBLIGING BANKER 87 
 
 able to get more for his state, and incidentally 
 for himself, than any Western senator, and he 
 had more power. Marsh was thinking of what 
 Paxton had said when Rambo came up. 
 
 " Hello, Marsh," said Rambo, who was get 
 ting very friendly with Marsh. " How are they 
 coming? " 
 
 " So, so," answered Marsh absently. He won 
 dered why Rambo was making himself so agree 
 able. 
 
 "Made any money lately?" 
 
 " Not much." 
 
 " Well," said Rambo confidentially, " I ve had 
 a tip that will enable us to make a few dollars. 
 Some friends of mine were down from New York 
 yesterday, and they told me I wouldn t miss much 
 if I bought a few shares of Union." 
 
 "Union what?" 
 
 " Union Consolidated. I ve got some folks 
 over there who know the big men in that outfit 
 and they say the stock is due for a rise. Better 
 get yourself a little." 
 
 Rambo walked away. Marsh thought it over. 
 Rambo had given him good information before. 
 He had about six hundred dollars left of his 
 twelve hundred winnings on his previous deal, 
 and had two thousand more in hand, which was 
 about all the money he did have. He decided the 
 tip was a good one, and he went down to a 
 broker s office to see about Union Consolidated. 
 He found that stock selling at seventy-seven dol 
 lars a share, where it had lingered for weeks.
 
 88 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 He bought five hundred shares on a five-point 
 margin, gave the cashier his check for $2,500 and 
 commission and went out and took a walk. 
 
 Union Consolidated moved up fractionally and 
 down fractionally for a week. Marsh was get 
 ting anxious. He knew his interest charge was 
 large and he was eager to get some action. One 
 morning, about ten days after the speculation 
 began, he called the broker s office on the tele 
 phone. 
 
 " How s the market? " he asked. 
 
 " Pretty weak," said the clerk who answered. 
 
 " What s Union Consolidated doing? " 
 
 " It s off a point and a half." 
 
 Marsh was cold with fear. He called again 
 in half an hour and found there was a better tone, 
 and that Union had recovered half a point. 
 Things were feverish still, the clerk said. 
 
 Next morning at ten o clock, when the market 
 opened, Marsh was on the telephone. Union 
 opened at seventy-five and five-eighths, stayed there 
 and dropped by eighths to seventy-five on heavy 
 sales. Marsh was nervous. He went into a 
 committee meeting, but could give little attention 
 to his work. He had only three points margin 
 left and he had no more money. At noon he 
 found they were evidently unloading Union Con 
 solidated, for it had dropped another point. He 
 was tempted to close and take his loss, but hung 
 on. He searched wildly for Rambo, but couldn t 
 find him. 
 
 Just before three o clock he was called to the
 
 THE OBLIGING BANKER 89 
 
 telephone. His broker was talking: " I m 
 sorry, Mr. Marsh," he said, " but I shall have 
 to call on you for some money. Union has 
 dropped to seventy-four, and I must ask you for 
 more margins the first thing in the morning. 
 Otherwise I have no option but to sell it, if it gets 
 down lower, to protect myself." 
 
 " How much do you want? " Marsh quavered 
 over the telephone. 
 
 " Oh, another twenty-five hundred will do. I 
 think the worst of this is over and that the market 
 will strengthen to-morrow, for there are evidences 
 of support." The broker talked like a Wall 
 Street letter. Marsh heard him dimly, like a man 
 speaking afar off. He was thinking, wondering 
 desperately where he would get twenty-five hun 
 dred dollars. He felt he must protect his original 
 investment, for it would cripple him to lose it, 
 cripple him seriously. 
 
 That night he called on Rambo at Rambo s 
 house. " Rambo," he said, " that Union is 
 pretty weak." 
 
 " So it is," Rambo replied unconcernedly. 
 
 u I ve got to margin mine up to-morrow." 
 
 Rambo became interested. 
 
 " How much have you got? " 
 
 " Five hundred shares of seventy-seven on a 
 five-point margin." 
 
 " My dear Marsh," said Rambo," why specu 
 late on so small a margin? I always protect my 
 stuff twenty points, and then I m reasonably safe 
 any way she breaks."
 
 90 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 Marsh made a clean breast of it. " I only had 
 enough to margin it five points," he confessed. 
 
 Rambo looked at him keenly. " Then you re 
 broke? " he asked. 
 
 " Practically." 
 
 "And they want more margins?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "How much?" 
 
 " Five points more." 
 
 " And you want to get the money? " 
 
 " That s it." 
 
 Rambo walked around the room. " I m sorry, 
 Marsh," he said, " but I haven t that amount free 
 just now. However, I know a very accommodat 
 ing fellow that will let you have it on my say-so. 
 Come around at nine o clock in the morning and 
 we ll go and see him." 
 
 Marsh slept badly that night. He was at 
 Rambo s house promptly at nine and they went 
 together to a bank, where Rambo introduced him 
 to a man who sat in an inner office, a clean-cut, 
 rather hard-faced man, smooth-shaven, and quick, 
 decided and very businesslike in his actions and 
 conversation. 
 
 " I am pleased to meet you," said the banker. 
 " We shall be glad to do anything in our power 
 for you." 
 
 Then he paused, waiting composedly to hear 
 what the proposition was. 
 
 " Mr. Marsh wants to borrow a little money," 
 said Rambo. 
 
 " We are always glad to accommodate any
 
 THE OBLIGING BANKER 91 
 
 friend of yours, Mr. Rambo. How much will 
 you need, Mr. Marsh?" 
 
 " Three thousand dollars." 
 
 "Any collateral?" 
 
 " I ll indorse for him," said Rambo. 
 
 The banker sat down at his desk and filled in a 
 printed note form. As Marsh signed it he no 
 ticed it was payable " On demand." 
 
 " It isn t for any stipulated term, I see," he 
 said to the banker. 
 
 " Oh, no," he replied suavely. " We generally 
 make these notes on demand, so they can be paid 
 at any time. The interest will be five per cent. 
 Will you kindly indorse, Mr. Rambo? Thank 
 you. The money will be here immediately." 
 He pushed a button, wrote his initials on the note, 
 handed it to a clerk who came in, talked about the 
 fine weather for a moment, and when the clerk 
 returned handed Marsh six five-hundred-dollar 
 bills. 
 
 " Glad to have met you, Mr. Marsh," said the 
 banker. " I shall hope to see you often. Do not 
 hesitate to call on us at any time. Good-morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " That was easy enough," commented Rambo. 
 " Excuse me now, I ve got to run over to the Land 
 Office." 
 
 Marsh paid twenty-five hundred .dollars in at 
 the broker s office, received a statement of his ac 
 count and went slowly up to the Capitol. He was 
 uneasy, but he consoled himself with the thought 
 that it was purely a business transaction.
 
 IX 
 
 SQUEEZED 
 
 UNION Consolidated sagged off a point 
 more, then a point and a half, recov 
 ered, dropped back, and finally hung 
 round seventy-two for two or three 
 weeks. Marsh saw Rambo occasionally and 
 Rambo said to keep the stock, as it was good and 
 would surely go up as he had said it would. 
 
 Work in the District of Columbia Committee 
 was getting toward completion. The committee 
 was threshing out the various municipal projects, 
 favoured by the commissioners, and some put for 
 ward by private individuals who owned land here 
 and there on the outskirts. One project was in 
 sistently favoured by a certain clique of Washing- 
 tonians; although the principals did not appear, 
 but were represented by suave and persistent 
 agents, who were on easy terms of familiarity 
 with most of the older members of the committee. 
 It provided for the location of a park in a section 
 of the city where there were no parks, and the 
 buying of a large block of acreage that the princi 
 pals of these agents owned. It seemed a fair 
 proposition. The land was all it was claimed to 
 
 92
 
 SQUEEZED 93 
 
 be; the location was excellent; but there had been 
 much opposition to the project. 
 
 Marsh noticed that certain members of the 
 committee, who were on terms of friendship with 
 another group of equally suave and persistent 
 agents which although it apparently had no real 
 estate to offer did not favour this project, insisted 
 that the project should be passed over each time 
 it came up. They said there was no hurry. 
 Marsh grew interested and made a sort of a poll 
 of the committee. The committee divided about 
 equally. There were twenty members all told, 
 and two were away because of sickness. This left 
 an even number and there was an apparent tie > 
 nine to nine. He had almost decided not to vote 
 for the project when the question of putting it into 
 the bill came up, regardless of what the sub-com 
 mittee that had the matter in charge might recom 
 mend, for he had been warned about real-estate 
 deals in the District. 
 
 Union Consolidated sagged down another 
 point. He now had a loss of more than twenty- 
 five hundred dollars, counting interest half his 
 money and he was nervous. He had not seen 
 or heard from the banker since he signed the note, 
 and Rambo was cheerfully confident the stock 
 would go up in time. He advised Marsh 
 to hang on. Then one panicky day Union 
 went down two more points, and Marsh had a 
 loss of nearly five thousand dollars, counting 
 charges in the total. He was getting weekly 
 statements from his brokers, and he observed
 
 94 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 that the interest was mounting rapidly. Union 
 recovered two points next day and Marsh felt 
 easier. 
 
 One morning, just before a vote on the park 
 project, he received a form letter from the bank. 
 It told him that the loans of the bank were being 
 adjusted and that his loan was called. Would he 
 kindly step in and pay his demand note for three 
 thousand dollars? Marsh was shocked. He 
 had written out to Morganville for money and had 
 thought of mortgaging his house. His partner 
 replied that collections were slow and that he 
 wouldn t be able to send him much for a month or 
 so. 
 
 He went down to the bank and was admitted 
 to the inner office. 
 
 " Good-morning, Mr. Marsh," said the banker. 
 " I am glad to see you again. How can I serve 
 you?" 
 
 " I received this notice this morning," and 
 Marsh handed the banker the form letter. 
 
 The banker read it slowly. "Oh!" he ex 
 claimed, " I am sorry this occurred. Please pay 
 no attention to it. It was sent out by a clerk in 
 the general course of our regular loan adjustment. 
 Please disregard it. We are only too happy to 
 have your loan continue on our books. I shall 
 see to it that nothing like this happens again. In 
 a big institution like this, you know," he continued 
 apologetically, " one is constantly harassed by 
 subordinates inattention to details of this kind. 
 However, do not concern yourself, Mr. Marsh.
 
 SQUEEZED 95 
 
 The money is yours as long as you desire it. 
 Good-morning." 
 
 That afternoon there was a telephone message 
 from the bank asking if it would be convenient for 
 Marsh to drop in on his way down from the 
 Capitol. He went back, rather panicky, fearful 
 there was some mistake and that it had been de 
 cided to call his loan, and highly resolving not to 
 be caught this way again. The banker greeted 
 him cordially. 
 
 " I hope this hasn t inconvenienced you, Mr. 
 Marsh," he said, " but it would hardly .do for me 
 to go up to the Capitol, you know. I meant to 
 speak to you about an unimportant matter this 
 morning, but it escaped my mind. It s a matter 
 of little consequence, but one in which we are in 
 terested in a way. About that park project, you 
 know. The fact is, Mr. Marsh, I and some of 
 my associates own that land. We are anxious to 
 dispose of it. It is a bargain as we offer it, and 
 the city will be a great gainer, for a park is needed 
 in that section. I trust you can see your way 
 clear to vote for it." 
 
 Marsh flushed and clenched his fists. So this 
 was it they were buying him for three thousand 
 dollars! "Of course," continued the banker 
 quietly, " I merely ask this on the grounds of pub 
 lic benefit. If you do not think the project meri 
 torious do not hesitate to condemn it. We shall 
 take no offence. Only think it over. Gcrod- 
 afternoon." 
 
 Marsh walked out. When he reached the
 
 96 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 street he remembered he had said nothing. He 
 was angry, humiliated, bursting with desire to tell 
 somebody. 
 
 As he turned the corner he saw Senator Pax- 
 ton, jauntily parading along, immaculate from the 
 shiny top of his hat to the shiny tips of his shoes, 
 swinging a cane and looking calmly contented with 
 life. 
 
 " Oh, senator ! " shouted Marsh, " I want to 
 talk to you." 
 
 " Walk along with me," he said. " What s on 
 your mind? " 
 
 Marsh rushed into the story, telling it in ex 
 clamatory fashion, and Paxton listened, smiled, 
 puffed at his cigar and stabbed at the treetrunks 
 with his cane as they proceeded. 
 
 After Marsh had finished Paxton said: "Oh, 
 don t take that too seriously, Marsh. You tell 
 me yourself that, although you are against this 
 project, you are against it only because you want 
 to investigate it some more. There s nothing 
 crooked about it. Of course they want to sell 
 the land. Selling land is the principal business 
 in this city, and the Government is the great mar 
 ket. The city needs a park out there. Why not 
 take this? The price isn t exorbitant. What s 
 the matter with it? " 
 
 " It s the method I object to," said Marsh. 
 
 " Method ! My eye ! " continued the senator. 
 "What s wrong with the method? That man 
 accommodated you. Why shouldn t you accom 
 modate him, especially when the project is all
 
 SQUEEZED 97 
 
 right? Let me tell you again that the only way 
 to get along in this city is to be helpful yourself. 
 He s done you a good turn. Do one for him. 
 It commits you to nothing. If you want others 
 to do things for you and you will you must 
 do things for others. That s the only way. You 
 can t bull your way through this game, Marsh; 
 you ve got to edge your way along the lines of 
 least resistance. The big, bloviating, forceful 
 person is interesting to watch; but the man who 
 is complaisant when it s his turn is the chap who 
 gets what he goes after. Vote to put that project 
 in the bill. It won t hurt you and it may help 
 you." 
 
 Next morning Union Consolidated was weak 
 and sagged off almost a point. Marsh saw his 
 five thousand dollars slipping from him. He at 
 tended the committee meeting and voted for the 
 park project. His vote gave the required ma 
 jority in committee. 
 
 The appropriation for the park project was in 
 cluded in the Sundry Civil Bill on the recommen 
 dation of the District of Columbia Committee. 
 There was some discussion over this in the sub 
 committee of the Appropriations Committee that 
 had the matter in charge, but the recommendation 
 of the committee prevailed. Marsh wasn t com 
 fortable. He felt he had been bribed, but 
 he didn t know just how, and he was not en 
 tirely quiet in his mind until Union Con 
 solidated began to go up, rose steadily to seventy- 
 nine, when he closed out, made a small profit and
 
 98 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 paid his note. Rambo told him he was wise. 
 Something had gone wrong in New York, Rambo 
 said, and it was well enough to get out, for there 
 would be other chances. Rambo was pleased 
 when he heard Marsh had voted for the park 
 project. A week or two later he found that 
 Rambo and Senator Paxton were close friends. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh s social activities took most of her 
 time. She was assiduous in her calls, joined the 
 various organisations of the women of the con 
 gressional set, was charming in the receiving line 
 at the reception given by Mrs. Paxton, and when 
 the ladies at the Bruxton gave their second recep 
 tion she found many more cards in her basket 
 than she had on the first occasion. She played 
 bridge mornings for very small stakes in the 
 hotel parlours, and she was a very busy woman. 
 Her dresses were all successes. In addition to 
 her new gowns she had bought new hats and new 
 shoes, and Marsh was astonished at the size of 
 her bills. However she impressed on him that 
 she was doing it all for his advancement, and he 
 paid as promptly as possible. 
 
 Along toward the close of the session, in July, 
 he made a set speech on some legal and consti 
 tutional phases of a pending question. He talked 
 for an hour and a half and held many of the mem 
 bers, although the afternoon was hot. He had 
 given much time to the preparation of the speech, 
 and was gratified to observe he had respectful 
 attention from those who listened to him. The 
 galleries were well filled, too, and he was con-
 
 SQUEEZED 99 
 
 tented. When the speech came to him for re 
 vision before it was published in the Congressional 
 Record the secretary sprinkled " applause " and 
 " prolonged applause " throughout it. Marsh 
 had him mail a great many copies of it under 
 Marsh s frank, to constituents in all parts of his 
 district. 
 
 The Washington newspapers carried a little of 
 it, the Associated Press said he had been listened 
 to " with marked attention," and the local news 
 paper boys from his state gave him a paragraph 
 in their papers. Rambo said it was a fine speech, 
 and Billy Byron, a man from Nebraska who was 
 in his first term in the House, told him what might 
 be a great help in overturning the iniquitous House 
 Rules if he would join with the little band of in 
 surgents operating even then. 
 
 One afternoon, not long afterward, he went 
 over to the Senate to hear an important debate 
 and sat down at a desk riext to that of Senator 
 Paxton. " I see you ve been making a speech," 
 said Paxton. 
 
 " I took a fling at it the other day," Marsh re 
 plied. 
 
 " I read it in the Record" continued the sena 
 tor. " I observe you picked out the safe and sane 
 specialty." 
 
 " What do you mean? " 
 
 " I mean the Constitution. That s the good 
 old standby for the orators, perfectly innocuous, 
 perfectly respectable and no chance for a come 
 back. If in doubt speak on the Constitution. It
 
 ioo THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 is always there, you know, and while it has been 
 interpreted by eloquent orators and justices and 
 lawyers and editors and statesmen of all classes, 
 down to the last comma, it is always susceptible 
 of further interpretation and it is always safe. 
 You ll never get in any trouble back home or any 
 where else if you make the Constitution your 
 specialty. Besides you ll get a reputation, for if 
 you can comprehend any of it you will stand out 
 above these other dubs who can comprehend none 
 of it. Many a mediocre person not saying you 
 are that has arrived at a reputation as a great 
 statesman by getting up and defending the dear 
 old Constitution, simply because the people who 
 heard him and the people who wrote about 
 him didn t know what he was talking about any 
 more than he did, but it sounded profound and 
 learned. 
 
 " I can point out to you half-a-dozen four-flush 
 ers in this Senate and in the House who are always 
 referred to as great constitutional lawyers because 
 they have hammered away at that immortal but 
 resilient document, in speeches, interpreted it, de 
 fended it, upheld it, praised it, chanted hymns of 
 joy over it, and all the time they were appearing 
 in public with no comeback, you understand. 
 There is no local politics in the Constitution, no 
 state politics nor any factional dispute. It is there, 
 grand, gloomy and peculiar, and you can go as 
 far as you like with it, and get a lot of applause 
 from people who don t know whether you are
 
 SQUEEZED lot 
 
 talking sense or rubbish. Stick to the Constitu 
 tion, Marsh, and you will soon be one of our lead 
 ing constitutional lawyers, which is a good posi 
 tion to have and always makes a hit with the 
 populace." 
 
 Marsh had been proud of his constitutional re 
 search and judgment, and he felt inclined to be 
 angry. 
 
 " Don t get ruffled," continued Senator Paxton. 
 " I m only telling you facts. I m older than you 
 are and I ve seen a great many men get along 
 under the protecting egis of the Constitution who 
 wouldn t have arrived anywhere if they hadn t 
 been smart enough to pick out that harmless 
 institution as a specialty. And another thing: 
 Every once in a while, when there s no harm to 
 be done to the organisation, bolt your party on a 
 vote in the House, run off the reservation but," 
 he added impressively, " be sure to assign a con 
 stitutional reason for it. Never neglect that, and 
 never do it when there is anything important on a 
 close vote at stake. Pick out a question where 
 there is a chance for difference, jump off, make a 
 loud noise about it, say it pains you, but you must 
 do it because your party is blind, insensible and 
 otherwise callous to the constitutional aspects of 
 the case. Say you are bolting more in sadness 
 than in anger and on purely constitutional grounds 
 and you ll be surprised to see what results you ll 
 get. Besides, there is no feasible or hurtful 
 criticism when a man is actuated in a bolt like this
 
 102 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 on the high and holy motive of defence, and re 
 gard and love, not to say reverence, for the grand 
 old Constitution. Come on down to my com 
 mittee room and smoke a cigar."
 
 X 
 
 SOCIAL ADVANCES 
 
 1 
 
 HERE was no trouble about the re- 
 nomination of Marsh that fall. The 
 independents hadn t made up their 
 minds about him, and thought they 
 saw promise in him, and McManus apparently 
 was satisfied. The convention was merely a rati 
 fication meeting. Marsh, who was waiting at 
 an .adjoining hotel, was escorted into the hall af 
 ter he had been named, a.nd made a spread-eagle 
 speech of acceptance, which was duly cheered by 
 the delegates who had gathered to register the 
 will of McManus. 
 
 The campaign was more or less perfunctory, 
 as the opposition had a factional split and two 
 men were named. Marsh got the normal Re 
 publican vote, and a few hundred disgusted Demo 
 crats voted for him also, so his plurality was 
 greater than it had been when he was first elected, 
 and this was taken by everybody as a sign that 
 he was making good. There was a hot state 
 campaign, and Marsh was called upon to stump 
 several adjoining districts for his party s nominee. 
 He was a favourite with the people and drew 
 excellent crowds. 
 
 103
 
 io 4 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 Before the campaign was over he began to look 
 on himself as a power in the state, and had many 
 hours with himself in which he resented the of- 
 course-I-control-you attitude of McManus. So 
 far as he knew, McManus conducted his political 
 affairs honestly and shrewdly, although he al 
 ways demanded his reward, and Marsh, after 
 thinking much about it, came to the conclusion 
 that McManus was bound to him by no ties that 
 could not be broken if Marsh so desired. That 
 is, he decided McManus needed him as 
 much as he needed McManus. He was merely 
 getting into a frame of mind that illustrated the 
 truth that politics is the most selfish business on 
 earth. 
 
 Marsh did as much as he could at the law but 
 that wasn t much, for politics kept him busy. He 
 collected some money due him, took a retainer or 
 two and sold a few lots he had in a subdivision of 
 Morganville. McManus had been successful in 
 getting a fair amount from the National Congres 
 sional Campaign Committee, and he assessed 
 Marsh only five hundred dollars, warning him 
 that he would have to put up twenty-five hundred 
 dollars next time he ran. Marsh found his one 
 session in Congress had given him a standing in 
 his district he had not hitherto enjoyed, and he 
 was well pleased with himself when he returned 
 to Washington, immediately after Thanksgiving 
 Day, for the short concluding session of his first 
 term. 
 
 Money was uppermost in his mind, money and
 
 SOCIAL ADVANCES 105 
 
 how to get it. He had resorted to every device, 
 and had been able only to come out even at the 
 end of his first session. He had even gone to the 
 lengths of naming Mrs. Marsh for his personal 
 clerk, hiring a stenographer for fifty dollars a 
 month to do the work, and pocketing the balance, 
 a little scheme he found was in general practice 
 among the members who had no incomes outside 
 their salaries. He also learned that sons and 
 daughters of influential men in the House were 
 carried as clerks and secretaries and messengers, 
 and he was one of the first to draw his mileage 
 and to commute his stationery account. He had 
 cultivated the disbursing officer, and could get an 
 advance of a hundred dollars or so on his salary 
 from time to time. It was nauseating business, 
 though, this constant scheming and contriving 
 to make his income meet his expenses, and he 
 was eager to find ways to make money and re 
 lieve himself of the horrors of being constantly 
 hard-up. 
 
 One thing that bothered him was Mrs. Marsh s 
 insistence they should move from the Bruxton to 
 a more fashionable hotel. Marsh was well sat 
 isfied with the Bruxton, although he intended to 
 get better quarters as soon as he could manage 
 it. Mrs. Marsh said the Bruxton was impossible, 
 and had selected a place on an avenue where she 
 knew the society was more select. She argued 
 unceasingly with Marsh that she was deterred in 
 her earnest efforts to help him to advancement 
 in his career by her Bruxton environment;
 
 106 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 but he, figuring on the expense, decided to wait 
 for a time. Besides, Dorothy was finishing her 
 school that year and would come to Washington 
 with them next December, when Marsh would be 
 gin his second term, and that would mean an in 
 crease in expenses; for Dorothy s upkeep, aside 
 from her simple frocks, was nothing in Morgan- 
 ville, as she lived with her grandmother. 
 
 The short session passed quickly. Mrs. 
 Marsh was devoted to her calls and receptions. 
 She had developed into a stylish, correctly attired, 
 distinguished-looking woman, had learned much 
 in the way of the amenities as Washington official 
 society practises them, and was known, among 
 those who knew her at all, as " the clever Mrs. 
 Marsh." She had a gift of light conversation, 
 was quick-witted, good-humoured, extremely self- 
 confident and had developed poise. Her gowns 
 caused Marsh some financial stress, but he was 
 proud of her, and he managed to get her what 
 she wanted, although he hadn t much left when 
 all her demands were met. He worked hard 
 in his committee and was popular with the 
 men he met there in the House, where he knew 
 about a hundred of the members and had a bow 
 ing acquaintance with a hundred more. Rambo 
 continued on friendly terms, but volunteered no 
 further stock-market information. Once or twice 
 Marsh asked him if there was anything in sight, 
 and Rambo each time shook his head and said the 
 times were not propitious. 
 
 " If anything turns up that looks good I ll let
 
 SOCIAL ADVANCES 107 
 
 you in on it, Marsh," he said. " No use of our 
 bucking it ourselves. Wait until we get the in 
 side stuff." 
 
 Marsh had no pressing political worries when 
 he reached Morganville a few days after the Con 
 gress adjourned on March fourth, and he went 
 vigorously at his law business and had good luck. 
 He lived quietly, asserted his authority when Mrs. 
 Marsh decided to go to a fashionable summer 
 hotel for July and August, and sent her and Doro 
 thy to a small place in the mountains. He brought 
 three thousand dollars in cash with him when he 
 returned to Washington in November, and owed 
 nothing in his home town save current bills. He 
 took the three thousand dollars to the banker who 
 had loaned him the same amount a year or so be 
 fore. The banker was smilingly glad to see him. 
 He said he had wondered what had become of 
 him, offered him every accommodation his insti 
 tution afforded and assured Marsh it was a pleas 
 ure to serve him. Marsh noticed that the bank 
 er s smile was confined to his lips. His eyes were 
 cold and steely-grey. 
 
 Senator Paxton sent a note to Marsh and asked 
 him to drop round when it was convenient. 
 Marsh went immediately. He had heard, out in 
 the district, that Paxton thought well of him and 
 predicted a future for him, and Paxton was a 
 greater state power than McManus. 
 
 " Marsh," said the senator, " there s a vacancy 
 on the Public Lands Committee you can have if 
 you want it."
 
 io8 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " I though I would like to stay on District of 
 Columbia." 
 
 " Oh, that s all right, only there is no end of 
 work to it. You can stay there, too, and you ll 
 get up on the list, for three of the men above 
 you are not coming back." Marsh knew this and 
 had figured on it. He had learned length of 
 service is what counts in attaining high com 
 mittee places, that seniority is more potent than 
 ability. The dropping out of these three men 
 put him fourth from the bottom instead of at the 
 bottom of the committee on the majority side. 
 
 " You see," continued the senator, " I sort of 
 own a place on that Lands Committee you 
 know we are interested in land questions out our 
 way and I thought you might like it." 
 
 " Is the speaker willing? " asked Marsh. 
 
 Senator Paxton smiled a little, whimsical smile. 
 * { I guess he will be," he said In a matter-of-fact 
 way. 
 
 Marsh felt he was being shoved on that Lands 
 Committee. It didn t interest him particularly, 
 but he felt also that his being on the committee 
 did interest Senator Paxton greatly. As the sen 
 ator had predicted, the speaker was willing to 
 name him. Indeed, the speaker suggested it. 
 Marsh s colleagues said he was lucky in getting 
 two such important assignments. Marsh didn t 
 know whether he was lucky or not. He had 
 doubts. 
 
 The hotel question was a permanent topic of 
 discussion between Marsh and Mrs. Marsh.
 
 SOCIAL ADVANCES 109; 
 
 They had returned to their old rooms in the Brux- 
 ton, but they had been obliged to take an addi 
 tional room for Dorothy. Mrs. Marsh had am 
 bitious plans for Dorothy. She intended to put 
 her in the most fashionable school for young 
 ladies in the city, where, she said, " she can meet 
 and associate with the daughters of exclusive 
 people/ Marsh knew all along there would be 
 but one compromise on the hotel question, and 
 that that would be to do as Mrs. Marsh was in 
 sisting, so he gave in. They moved to a hotel 
 on an avenue where they rented two rooms and 
 a bath, not so comfortable as those they had at 
 the Bruxton, for $300 a month instead of $200, 
 with an additional charge for Dorothy. 
 
 Then came the school problem. Mrs. Marsh 
 had made a study of that. Washington had many 
 schools for girls ranging from one so high-priced 
 that it was patronised only by daughters of very 
 rich men down to less pretentious ones, where the 
 tuition was but $500 a year. 
 
 " But five hundred?" said Marsh, when Mrs. 
 Marsh mentioned this sum to him deprecatingly. 
 " For Heaven s sake, isn t that enough to pay a 
 year for any girl s education?" 
 
 Dorothy thought it was too much. She was 
 not keen about finishing at a " finishing " school. 
 She was a girl of good spirit and good sense, and 
 she said she d just as soon stay in Morganville as 
 be cooped up in a seminary and taught to play 
 the piano and to talk French. She said she hated 
 the piano and loathed French, and she liked to be
 
 no THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 with her grandmother if she couldn t be with her 
 father, whom she adored. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh was shocked. " But my dear 
 Dorothy," she protested, " think of the opportuni 
 ties this will give you to meet the daughters of the 
 best families, and to fit yourself for the position 
 you are to assume?" 
 
 Dorothy pouted. " I don t see how it will help 
 papa any to stick me away in one of those horrid 
 schools and fill me full of things I don t want to 
 know." 
 
 u Anyhow," declared Mrs. Marsh, " you are 
 going. That s settled." 
 
 However, Dorothy didn t go to the school 
 Mrs. Marsh had selected. Marsh had a talk 
 with Cragston, a rich member from the East who 
 had two daughters in school in Washington. 
 
 " Don t be fooled by that thousand-dollar-a 
 year stuff, Marsh," cautioned Cragston. " The 
 thousand is only the beginning. It pays for tui 
 tion and board and room. About everything else 
 is extra. It costs me about five thousand a year 
 for my two girls up there. And, believe me, they 
 are being finished in a way that will cost me a 
 good many thousands more than that after the 
 final touches have been applied." 
 
 Marsh said he couldn t afford it. Dor 
 othy stood boldly by and said she didn t want 
 him to afford it. A compromise was reached, 
 and Dorothy went to a school, not so fashionable 
 as the other, but still fashionable enough to cost 
 six hundred dollars a year, with extras that would
 
 SOCIAL ADVANCES in 
 
 make the total reach about a thousand. She 
 started late. Next year, Mrs. Marsh declared, 
 she would have to be in Washington for the 
 school opening. 
 
 After the organisation of the House had been 
 perfected and the Christmas holidays were over 
 the Marshes stayed in Washington instead of 
 going to Morganville the first call was issued 
 for a meeting of the Public Lands Committee 
 and Marsh attended to get acquainted with his 
 associates. They were mostly Western men, 
 men who were concerned with the questions af 
 fecting the public domain, and the bulk of them 
 had been several terms in Congress and knew all 
 the ropes. They all greeted Marsh kindly, 
 especially Rambo, who was the second man on the 
 list, ranking next to the chairman, and, as Marsh 
 soon learned, a power in the affairs of the 
 committee. Rambo spent several afternoons 
 with Marsh, outlining possible land legisla 
 tion, and was deeply concerned over the revision 
 of several of the existing land laws, which, he said, 
 were unfair both to the settlers and to the Gov 
 ernment. He argued there was entirely too 
 much red tape about land matters, and especially 
 about patenting land claims, and was in favour of 
 a less restricted system, whereby the public do 
 main might be easier of access and settlers would 
 not be so hampered by a multiplicity of detail. 
 Rambo said the land laws had been changed and 
 amended and confused until the practice under 
 them, in the Interior Department, gave too much
 
 ii2 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 power to the Commissioner of the Public Landi 
 Office. Marsh was not particularly interested, 
 but he listened politely to all Rambo said and 
 decided to look into the subject when he had 
 time. 
 
 One day Marsh was talking with Senator Pax- 
 ton, and the name of a former senator, who was 
 practising law in Washington, and who repre 
 sented certain diversified interests that had mat 
 ters of concern before Congress, was mentioned. 
 
 " I suppose," remarked Marsh casually, " he 
 is a crook." 
 
 " Hold on, Marsh ! " said the senator. " Don t 
 fall into that loose manner of speaking about 
 others here in Washington. A man may prac 
 tise law as legitimately here as in Morganville, 
 and as illegitimately, too, if it comes to that. 
 The mere fact that a man does practise law in 
 Washington, that he has been in Congress and 
 that he does represent clients who are interested 
 in what Congress is doing, does not make him 
 crooked any more than it makes him a Moham 
 medan. It is so common a custom to call a man 
 who does not agree with you a crook that it is 
 almost universal. You see, we all predicate the 
 total honesty of the world on the honesty we per 
 sonally assign to ourselves. We all think we are 
 honest think we are except in rare cases 
 when we have reached the sublimity of philo 
 sophical maturity and cease trying to fool our 
 selves. Therefore, inasmuch as we are honest, 
 according to our own estimation, we also think any
 
 SOCIAL ADVANCES 113 
 
 man who does not agree with us is dishonest, a 
 crook, and we say so in many instances without any 
 knowledge of the facts, or any other kind of basis 
 except our own egotistical self-appraisement. 
 
 " It is one of the cheapest tricks of the dema 
 gogue and the hypocrite and we have scores of 
 them here as there are scores of them everywhere 
 to try to discredit opposition by saying op 
 ponents are crooks and liars. We assume all the 
 virtues ourselves. We refuse to allow any who 
 disagree with us credit for any honesty of opinion 
 or honesty of practice. This vaunted civilisation 
 of ours, Marsh, is carried on by two sets of peo 
 ple. The first consists of a large section of the 
 populace who are insistent you shall do what they 
 want you to do; and the second is you yourself, 
 equally insistent that all others shall do what 
 you want them to do. In the struggle it al 
 ways falls out that each side all others and 
 yourself do not get others to do what you want 
 them to do, nor do you do what you want to 
 do yourself. No man gets any other to do what 
 he wants that other to do, but every man unceas 
 ingly, from the cradle to the grave, does what 
 others want him to do, never what he wants to do 
 himself. 
 
 " Failing to recognise this great truth, we per 
 sist in our opinions, and when we find a man who 
 persists against those opinions we seek to demol 
 ish him by calling him a crook not because he 
 is a crook, mind you, but because he opposes 
 what we want, we being, in our opinions, immacu-
 
 ii 4 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 lately honest. Now it is the same here. It is 
 the common custom to speak of men as crooked 
 because they have an opportunity to be crooked 
 or because we think they have that opportunity. 
 You said that man was crooked, and you didn t 
 stop to reflect that the only reason on this earth 
 that gives him a chance to be crooked is his oppor 
 tunity. And that opportunity, if it does exist, ex 
 ists because we are crooked ourselves, for what 
 business can a crook do with honest men? If he 
 is a successful crook, the men he deals with must be 
 crooks also, and we are the men he deals with 
 you and I and the other members of this Congress. 
 He doesn t steal anything, for example he has 
 no power to steal anything; but if anything is 
 stolen we steal it for him, at his request or for a 
 share of the swag." 
 
 " Well," said Marsh doggedly, " I heard he 
 is a lobbyist." 
 
 "Lobbyist! Faugh!" snorted the senator. 
 That word always makes me tired. There may 
 have been times in this city when there were lob 
 byists who could lobby, but those times are gone. 
 If you could gather all the so-called lobbyists in 
 this city into statuary hall you would find the 
 whole bunch of them haven t as much influence on 
 Congress as one of the marble effigies there. 
 They are legislative hangers-on, cheaper than 
 messengers, who seek to sell their supposed 
 acquaintance and influence with legislators to un 
 sophisticated come-ons who want favours from 
 Congress. Most of them could not get into the
 
 SOCIAL ADVANCES 115; 
 
 office of a senator or a representative, certainly 
 not into the office of a senator or representative 
 who knows the game, and they have about as 
 much real effect on American legislation as on the 
 Russian Duma. They slither in and slither out, 
 and hang about hotels and cadge money and it is 
 all a confidence game both ways. It is cheap and 
 nasty and predicated on the widespread belief 
 that legislation can be bought." 
 
 "Do you mean to say legislation cannot be 
 bought?" asked Marsh, who felt he was being 
 politely rebuked. 
 
 " Certainly legislation can be bought, and legis 
 lation can be obtained by influence, but legislation 
 cannot be bought by the raw passing of money. 
 There are some men in this Congress who would 
 take a bribe take the money but not many. 
 Intrinsically, the majority of these men here are 
 straight that way. Most of them would kick you 
 out of their rooms if you tried to hand them 
 money most of them, not all. That isn t the 
 way legislation is bought, nor is it the way indi 
 viduals are bought. The real lobbyists, the men 
 who buy legislation or get it without buying it 
 sometimes work another way. They are not 
 former members or former senators or former 
 anythings. They are the real, live big-heads of the 
 big interests who want legislation. And they 
 don t work with the individual members. They 
 work through the organisation. They apply their 
 political knowledge. They get the bosses. The 
 bosses get the rest of the crowd.
 
 ii6 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " When anything important is going on here 
 you don t find these former congressmen in any 
 capacity other than errand boys, these lobbyists 
 you speak about. You do find on the spot the 
 biggest men in the interest affected. They 
 come here. They deal with the men who control 
 the Senate and the House. They help maintain 
 the organisation, and they pick out here and there 
 a man who is important and influential and get 
 him. He gets the others. The rank and file are 
 not dishonest, for one great reason if for no other 
 they haven t the chance. The big fellows deal 
 with the big fellows arid the rank and file take 
 their orders, and there you are." 
 
 " Then it s largely political," said Marsh. 
 
 " It s entirely political. Everything in Wash 
 ington is political. Politics is first in all legisla 
 tion, and all others considerations the people, 
 the country, everything else are trailing along 
 way behind. We legislate for one purpose only, 
 and that one purpose is to maintain ourselves and 
 our party in power. Every bit of legislation has 
 a political end to it, even the getting of an eight- 
 dollar pension. The men in Congress have one 
 great, imperative interest to stay in Congress 
 themselves and keep their party in power in 
 Congress and in the White House. All legisla 
 tion is directed to that end. Thus when a big 
 interest is affected by any proposed legislation 
 that big interest has learned not to try to deal with 
 individuals, but to deal with the heads of the or 
 ganisation that controls the individuals, the
 
 SOCIAL ADVANCES 117 
 
 organisation that must be maintained because it 
 in turn maintains the individuals and helps them 
 maintain themselves." 
 
 "Where do the people come in?" asked 
 Marsh. 
 
 " They do not come in. When you get down 
 to bed-rock, despite all the yawp and yammer 
 about the people and despite the public parading 
 of love for the same by the men in Congress, you 
 discover that the people, the real people for 
 whom legislation is passed, consist of two senators 
 from each state and whatever number of repre 
 sentatives there may be. They are the people. 
 The rest of the population of their state is a means 
 to their ends. These others are necessary for 
 voting purposes, but the primest necessity in the 
 case consists in directing their purposes so they 
 will vote for the persons who are legislating, in 
 order that those persons may continue legislating 
 and those persons, meaning the members of 
 Congress, legislate first with eyes single to how the 
 legislation will affect their individual political for 
 tunes, how it will delude the people into continu 
 ing their support, and their legislation is framed 
 for no other purpose. If the people derive any 
 incidental or accidental benefit all well and good. 
 But if the legislator wants to remain in power 
 he is actuated by no higher motive than that. 
 Popularity means power. Hence he does what 
 seems the politic, the popular thing in order to 
 help himself. Occasionally there comes a man 
 who fights out in the open for what he thinks
 
 n8 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 the people should have, regardless of his own 
 fortunes; but there are not many of them and they 
 do not last long. I hope I m not boring you." 
 
 " Go on," said Marsh. 
 
 " The chief evil of every political system, not 
 only in this country but in all the world, is not 
 dishonesty, but hypocrisy this eternal pretence 
 of legislating for the people, when we are legis 
 lating for ourselves first, and the people get only 
 the crumbs of it. Occasionally the people take 
 matters in their own hands and do some legislat 
 ing with axes and the torch, but not often. They 
 are too much concerned with getting enough to eat 
 and to wear and with keeping warm to look into 
 politics, except emotionally and spasmodically; 
 and when they overturn an organisation they for 
 get what the system produced, and look hope 
 fully for new results from the organisation they 
 have put in power. They do not remember the 
 men who are in power are exactly the same, in 
 every human attribute, as those they put out 
 of power, and after the preliminary splutter will 
 strive to continue in power and place just as their 
 predecessors did. The people get an advantage 
 by the overturn of a party, and then fail to press 
 it. They quit in the middle of their work. The 
 politicians understand this, and it is not a matter 
 of such terrifying moment for a party to be beaten, 
 for the leaders know the pendulum swings back and 
 forth, because the swinging machinery, the people, 
 forget how they regulated things and substitute 
 hope for continued watchfulness."
 
 XI 
 
 THE BOLT 
 
 MARSH thought much about what 
 Senator Paxton had said, and his 
 own views coincided with the ob 
 servations of that experienced per 
 son. He had already discovered that with the 
 other members of Congress the most potent argu 
 ment for legislation, for appropriations, for the 
 passage of private claims and for voting on gen 
 eral bills was : " It will help me in my district." 
 Man after man came to him and asked him to vote 
 for or against various propositions on that ground 
 personal aid for the asker in his home dis 
 trict. Back of that was the party obligation. 
 " Rally, boys ! " the leader said. " The organisa 
 tion wants it. It is for the party." 
 
 Moreover he found that men frequently op 
 posed bills publicly, and even went to the length 
 of speaking against them, when they privately 
 urged the passage of those measures because of 
 some influence that was powerful but not popular 
 back home or at large. He was often urged to 
 vote for a bill on the ground that it wouldn t 
 hurt him any to support it, by men who loudly and 
 impressively voted against it. He had noticed 
 
 119
 
 120 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 also that members dodged votes, staying out of 
 committees on various pretences when a matter 
 dangerous politically was under consideration, 
 and resorting to all sorts of petty subterfuges to 
 keep their records clear and in accord with popu 
 lar temper as they understood it, or at least neutral 
 or inoffensive, so there might not be criticism at 
 home, or if there were criticism that it might be 
 answered successfully or plausibly and witH no 
 loss of prestige. 
 
 He had voted uniformly with the organisation 
 on party measures, but he resolved to take an in 
 dependent stand on some bill, trusting in his 
 rather inflated estimate of his own power as an 
 orator to pull him through. He decided to 
 prove to the country he was no hypocrite and 
 a true friend of the people, and to rush to heights 
 of respect and confidence by that process. His 
 opportunity came sooner than he expected. A 
 bill that gave him a chance was dropped in the 
 basket by a Western member and referred to the 
 Lands Committee. It was a bill that involved 
 the illegality of a land grab in the West. 
 
 A certain corporation composed of powerful 
 men had fenced in a large tract of public domain 
 and used it for grazing purposes. The cor 
 poration had been unmolested for years and 
 had come to look on the land as its own property. 
 A zealous young man in the Interior Depart 
 ment had exposed the swindle and had made 
 a report on it. This was published, and there 
 was a demand that the land be returned to the
 
 THE BOLT 121 
 
 Government. The officials were not particularly 
 eager to stir up the men who had seized the 
 land, but the/ had to proceed. The result was, 
 after a long delay and a lot of backing and fill 
 ing, a bill was introduced that practically gave the 
 land to the corporation and removed the illegality 
 of their seizure. It was cunningly worded and 
 seemed to have much precedent behind it. There 
 were many committeemen who favoured it, includ 
 ing Rambo, who was ardently for it. 
 
 Marsh had had experience in land cases and he 
 studied the bill carefully. He talked about it 
 with other members of his committee, and discov 
 ered the general feeling was that it would be 
 advisable to rush the bill through before there 
 was much chance for critical publicity, and get it 
 over to the Senate, where the fencers had strong 
 support, or to smother the matter, pigeonhole the 
 bill and trust to time and the leaders to bring the 
 Interior Department round to a reasonable frame 
 of mind. Byron, the member from Nebraska 
 who had insurgent tendencies, was on the Lands 
 Committee also, and he had been looking into 
 this bill. Marsh talked with him. 
 
 " It s a steal," said Byron, " a rank steal. 
 These men have no right to that land, never did 
 have any right to it, and now they are trying to 
 establish a claim that is a swindle on the face of 
 it. I m against it." 
 
 " How far will you go ? " asked Marsh. 
 * To the limit," Byron replied emphatically. 
 " I intend to oppose the bill in committee and do
 
 122 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 what I can to beat it. Unfortunately my attitude 
 toward the oligarchy that rules this House is so 
 well known that my opposition will probably have 
 the tendency of bringing an early and favourable 
 report on the bill. They re hazing me, you 
 know." 
 
 " Hazing you? " 
 
 " Sure ! They can t get me with any of the old 
 lures, and they are trying to break my back and 
 my spirit by opposing everything I am interested 
 in, and otherwise making it uncomfortable for 
 me. And let me tell you, Marsh, they are past- 
 masters at that art." 
 
 " Will you join with me in trying to beat the 
 bill? " asked Marsh. 
 
 " I ll not only join you, but I ll follow you," 
 promised Byron. " If we can get another mem 
 ber or two we can make a showing and perhaps 
 stop it by making such a yell that the newspapers 
 will take it up." 
 
 " We ll talk about it again to-morrow," said 
 Marsh. " I feel the same way you do about it 
 and I think we should fight it." 
 
 Next day Marsh and Byron had another con 
 versation. They found that Rochester, also a 
 Western member of the committee, had grave 
 misgivings about this bill, and they filled him with 
 their ideas and secured his tentative assent to help 
 them. Byron and Marsh talked long about the 
 matter. It was decided Marsh should take the 
 initiative against the bill in the committee, and that 
 Byron and Rochester would back him up.
 
 THE BOLT 123 
 
 One morning, in a committee meeting, the chair 
 man of the committee said casually: "Gentle 
 men of the committee, here is a little bill that we 
 might as well dispose of. It has reference to 
 some fencing operations out West by some men, 
 who, as I understand it, thought they were fully 
 within their rights. There has been a fuss about 
 it and this bill is designed to set these men straight 
 in the matter. It is of little moment. Shall we 
 report it favourably and recommend its passage? " 
 
 " I move that this committee present a favoura 
 ble report on this bill and recommend it for pass 
 age," said Rambo. 
 
 " I second that," put in another. 
 
 " All in favour of the motion signify by saying 
 aye, contrary-minded no," rattled the chairman. 
 "The ayes " 
 
 Marsh arose from his seat at the end of the 
 table. 
 
 "Mr. Chairman!" 
 
 The chairman looked at Marsh with an expres 
 sion of pained surprise. He recognised Marsh 
 in a manner that indicated the chairman was 
 firmly of the opinion this new member was pro 
 jecting himself in an unwarranted manner into the 
 proceedings of the committee. 
 
 " Mr. Chairman," said Marsh, " I ask that 
 that bill go over." 
 
 There was a chorus of protest from the older 
 members of the committee. 
 
 " I insist," continued Marsh, " that this bill 
 shall go over. It has had no consideration in this
 
 i2 4 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 committee that I know about, and I am well within 
 my rights when I say I desire to examine into it 
 and request that action shall not be precipitate. 
 This is an important bill. In my opinion it is a 
 wicked bill." 
 
 The older members of the committee looked 
 virtuous as possible. The chairman of the com 
 mittee was still shocked and pained. 
 
 " I insist, Mr. Chairman, that bill shall go 
 over, and I make that motion. * 
 
 " I second it," said Byron. 
 
 " Vote ! " shouted one or two members. 
 
 " Of course," declaimed the chairman in his 
 most impressive manner, " there is no desire on 
 the part of this committee or any of its members 
 to rush through a bill without giving every mem 
 ber ample opportunity to state his objections. 
 Will twenty-four hours be sufficient time for study 
 for the gentleman? " 
 
 "Ample," said Marsh. 
 
 * Very well, the bill will go over for a day, but 
 to-morrow I shall demand a vote on it." 
 
 Most of the older members looked curiously at 
 Marsh and wondered what he had in mind. 
 After the committee meeting adjourned Rambo- 
 came to him. 
 
 " What s up, Marsh? " he asked. 
 
 " That s a rotten bill, that s what s up; and I m 
 not going to stand for rushing it through this com 
 mittee and out on the floor of the House. I ve 
 got some things to say about it and I m going to 
 say them."
 
 THE BOLT 125 
 
 " But," said Rambo, " the boys want it. It 
 doesn t hurt you any and it helps some of our very 
 good friends. Better forget it. What differ 
 ence does it make to you? " 
 
 " It makes this difference, Rambo," Marsh re 
 torted hotly. " I know that bill condones an of 
 fence against our laws. It practically gives that 
 land to the men who stole it years ago. They 
 have no right to it now, never have had a right 
 to it, and I intend to fight for the restoration of 
 the land to the public domain where it belongs." 
 
 Rambo whistled. 
 
 " Marsh," he said, " you ve had a good start 
 in this House. Don t run out on a little thing 
 like this and gum yourself all up before you get 
 into the game. Forget this, I tell you, and I m 
 telling you for your own good. If you don t like 
 the bill stay away from the meeting when it is 
 considered, or come in, make your spiel, and take 
 your medicine without exposing yourself to the 
 whole outside world as a kicker. I tell you the 
 powers are for this bill. Do you get that? The 
 organisation wants it. Keep off now and play the 
 game. It doesn t hurt you not a bit. You 
 can t prevent its report with a favourable recom 
 mendation, and you can t stop it from going 
 through the House. All you ll do will be to ex 
 cite suspicion about your dependableness in the 
 minds of the men who at present think well of 
 you. Don t ruin yourself this way. I m talking 
 to you now for your own good. Forget it." 
 
 " I ve decided to fight it," said Marsh.
 
 126 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " Oh, well," said Rambo, walking away, " that 
 part of it is up to you. You will only hurt your 
 self and not harm the bill, you know. It will be 
 reported and passed. That s all arranged, and 
 you will get a devil of a licking, and a humiliating 
 one, and hurt yourself for years to come." 
 
 " I ll take my chances with the people," said 
 Marsh vehemently. 
 
 Rambo laughed. " The people won t have 
 much to say about it," he called back over his 
 shoulder. 
 
 The chairman called up the bill promptly next 
 day, after the committee met, and looked inquir 
 ingly at Marsh. Marsh saw there was a full 
 committee present. Every member was on hand. 
 He wondered about that, for most committee 
 meetings were slimly attended. He did not 
 know the chairman and Rambo had notified every 
 body to be there that morning to help squelch 
 this bumptious young person who had the temer 
 ity to protest against a committee action that was 
 favoured by nearly all the members. 
 
 Marsh rose. The question was on the favour 
 able report of the bill and the recommendation for 
 passage. 
 
 He spoke for half an hour, carefully going into 
 the history of the land operations referred to in 
 the bill, showing how the land had been fenced 
 illegally, and how after many years the matter 
 had been made public officially. He deprecated 
 any connivance on the part of the committee with 
 this larceny of public domain, referred feelingly
 
 THE BOLT 127 
 
 to the rights of the people in the matter and was 
 eloquent and forceful. It was a good speech. 
 Byron backed him up in a fifteen-minute talk. 
 
 The members of the committee sat smoking, 
 looking rather bored, and when Marsh had 
 finished with the threat that he would present a 
 minority report on the bill, disclose its iniquity to 
 the country and make a fight on the floor of the 
 House, they grinned. After Byron had finished 
 the chairman asked if any other member of the 
 committee had anything to say. He was rather 
 contemptuous about it. No other member said 
 anything, except Rambo, who cried: " Vote! " 
 
 The vote was taken and a favourable report on 
 the bill was ordered, with every member in the 
 affirmative except Marsh, Byron and Rochester, 
 who wavered a bit, but finally joined Marsh and 
 Byron. The remaining business was quickly 
 transacted and the committee adjourned. 
 
 " Take your medicine, Marsh," admonished 
 Rambo, as they walked out of the room. 
 
 That afternoon Senator Paxton strolled over 
 to the House, went in and sat down beside Marsh, 
 who was listening to a debate on an appropriation 
 bill. Marsh saw him coming and braced himself 
 for the encounter. 
 
 Paxton was genial and affable. He apparently 
 didn t have a care in the world. He teetered back 
 and forth in the chair he had taken and nodded 
 to Marsh. 
 
 " I just happened by and thought I d revisit 
 the scenes of my former triumphs," he said.
 
 128 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " Haven t seen much of you lately. How are 
 you?" 
 
 " Fine," Marsh replied; " but pretty busy." 
 
 Paxton smiled again. " It seems," he said 
 pleasantly, " that I didn t do such a stroke of 
 business after all when I got you a place on the 
 Lands Committee." 
 
 " What do you mean? " Marsh asked, his face 
 hardening. 
 
 " Oh," the senator replied, as if it were a mat 
 ter of slight consequence, " I imagined you were 
 regular and would play the game. They tell me 
 you re kicking against a bill that is calculated to 
 help some very good friends of ours out of a 
 hole." 
 
 " It s a dishonest bill." 
 
 " Tush, tush, Marsh ! " said Paxton gently. 
 * Remember what I told you about branding 
 things dishonest simply because you don t agree 
 with them. That s too cheap for you. Now, as 
 I understand it, the Government hasn t had this 
 land for years and these fellows intend to 
 straighten it all out. They are friends of ours, 
 you know, and it is up to us to help them. What 
 do you intend to do? " 
 
 " I shall make a minority report on the bill and 
 carry my fight to the floor of the House." 
 
 " Marsh," said the senator, " did you ever by 
 any chance watch one of those big steamrollers at 
 work fixing the asphalt in this town? Well, my 
 son, you ll look and feel as if one of those rollers 
 the biggest one had run over you and
 
 THE BOLT 129 
 
 squashed you into tar by the time they get through 
 with you." 
 
 " That makes no difference to me," protested 
 Marsh. " I feel it my duty to oppose this bill." 
 
 " Far be it from me to interfere with your 
 sense of duty in this trifling matter further than to 
 suggest that there is a higher duty concerned than 
 you seem to have discovered. I refer to your 
 duty to yourself, to your career, to your stay in 
 public life. This bill is an unimportant matter 
 and the organisation is for it " 
 
 " I fail to see why it is so unimportant when all 
 the machinery of this Congress seems to be 
 moving to get it through," said Marsh. 
 
 " Oh, well," smiled Paxton, " it s all in the 
 viewpoint, of course. If you think you cannot 
 possibly exist without getting a little notoriety out 
 of your opposition to this bill I don t know that 
 anything I can say will prevent you from taking the 
 jump. I merely wanted to warn you that it will 
 be held up against you. The organisation doesn t 
 forget." 
 
 " I ll take my chances," said Marsh. 
 
 " Well and good, only why not leave the reser 
 vation on something that s worth while? Why 
 piddle around on this little bill instead of grabbing 
 a big issue? " 
 
 " This is big enough. It has the whole machine 
 back of it." 
 
 " Good luck to you," said Paxton cheerily, as he 
 rose to go. " I ll come over to hear your speech. 
 I suppose you are going to make a speech? "
 
 1 30 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " I surely am," replied Marsh, and Paxton 
 walked jauntily away. 
 
 Byron and Rochester joined Marsh in a vigor 
 ous minority report on the bill, a report that con 
 demned it unsparingly. The majority report was 
 brief. It recommended the passage of the bill, 
 but gave no special reason except that the com 
 mittee thought the measure just and equitable. 
 The bill went on the calendar, and one afternoon 
 was called up by the chairman of the committee. 
 Marsh had been preparing himself. He had 
 worked hard over a speech and he was ready. 
 He moved the substitution of the minority for the 
 majority report, and the question came on the sub 
 stitution. Three hours were allotted for debate, 
 an hour and a half to each side, and Marsh 
 rose. 
 
 He was in fine form. He had determined to 
 make a great effort. Word had gone out that the 
 majority was squabbling over a bill, and there was 
 a good attendance of members, while the press 
 gallery held a large number of correspondents 
 who had come in to see if there was an interesting 
 paragraph in this fight of a young member against 
 the organisation. He spoke for his full hour and 
 a half. He explained the bill, showed its illegal 
 ity, went into the history of landgrabbing in the 
 West, scored the landgrabbers, was cautious in his 
 references to the committee, but made it plain 
 enough that the organisation was for the bill for 
 political reasons, because the landgrabbers were 
 strong politically, and his peroration was the best
 
 THE BOLT 131 
 
 thing he had ever done. It was eloquent, but not 
 flowery. It was delivered with much dramatic 
 force and with all the elocutionary graces at his 
 command. 
 
 The House was filled and the press gallery 
 crowded. Marsh s references to the dangers he 
 was braving, dangers of opposition from the or 
 ganisation of his own party, were loudly cheered, 
 by the minority especially when he exclaimed fer 
 vently that he knew he was right, and that he was 
 content to leave his case in the hands of the high 
 est court the people. 
 
 The chairman of the committee used only fifteen 
 minutes of his time, explaining the bill and laying 
 stress on the fact that all but three members of 
 the committee were for it, as the report showed. 
 Then he asked for the question. 
 
 There was a demand for a division and tellers 
 were appointed. Although a good many of the 
 Democrats voted with Marsh on the broad, gen 
 eral theory that it is always good politics to help 
 along discord in the opposition, Marsh rallied 
 only a dozen members of his own party and was 
 overwhelmingly defeated. The majority report 
 was adopted and the House went into considera 
 tion of the bill. Debate was perfunctory and the 
 bill was passed without a division. Marsh left 
 soon after his defeat. Rambo caught up with him 
 in the corridor. 
 
 ; Well," said Rambo, " you see what happened. 
 That sets you back into the nine hole all right." 
 
 " I don t give a damn! " exclaimed Marsh.
 
 132 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " But you will in a week or so," insisted Rambo; 
 " after you wake up." 
 
 Marsh was well pleased with himself next morn 
 ing. The Washington correspondents of the big 
 papers in his state had been to see him and had 
 sent out stories praising him for his fight, and the 
 Washington papers gave a column each to it. 
 Marsh s particular newspaper friend told him the 
 correspondents had handled the story quite gener 
 ously, and when the New York papers came 
 Marsh saw they each had dispatches on it, ranging 
 in length from a quarter of a column in the papers 
 that supported the Administration to a full column 
 in the opposition papers. 
 
 Nevertheless, many of his friends in the organ 
 isation told him he had ruined himself by his pro 
 test, and as the newspaper mention of his fight 
 ceased in the news columns on the second day, he 
 was rather downcast and wondered if he had made 
 a mistake. A few days later the press-clipping 
 bureaus began to send him clippings of the edito 
 rial comments on the fight throughout the country, 
 and he took heart again. He was almost univer 
 sally supported and commended for his stand.
 
 XII 
 
 A LITTLE DINNER PARTY 
 
 MRS. MARSH had been in the mem- 
 bers gallery in the House on the day 
 her husband made his speech, and 
 was much elated over his success as 
 an orator, although downcast because of the 
 trifling results he obtained. She regained her 
 confidence when she read the newspaper clippings, 
 and quoted to her friends several of the editorial 
 paragraphs that referred to Marsh as a " sturdy 
 and independent young member who will make his 
 mark " as if she had inspired the whole proceed 
 ing. The fact was she had advised against it on 
 the one occasion when Marsh took her into his con 
 fidence. Mrs. Marsh was already experienced 
 enough in Washington affairs to know the value 
 of regularity, and she was slavish in her observance 
 of the social conventions. 
 
 The Marshes had found the new hotel to be 
 stiffer and more formal than the Bruxton, which 
 simply denoted, to the mind of Mrs. Marsh, that 
 it was advanced socially over the Bruxton, and she 
 cultivated assiduously the women who lived in 
 the hotel. There were several wives of senators 
 there, and the wives of representatives she met in 
 
 133
 
 134 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 the hotel were distinctly more fashionable than 
 those at the other place. They had given a re 
 ception or two, and Mrs. Marsh was planning one 
 for herself. She had assisted at another of Mrs. 
 Paxton s affairs, this time not a state function, and 
 she felt she was gradually coming into her own. 
 
 She was firm in her conviction that the future of 
 Marsh lay largely in her hands, and she was de 
 termined to push him forward by pushing herself 
 forward. She had heard stories of extremely 
 clever wives who had advanced the positions of 
 their husbands by their genius at entertaining, 
 their knowledge of politics and their skill at 
 getting influential persons at work, and she re 
 solved to emulate these shining examples. Peo 
 ple told her of the wife of one of the army 
 officers, who had not only kept her husband sta 
 tioned in Washington on departmental duty for 
 ten years, but had secured several promotions for 
 him, because she was smart enough to cultivate the 
 wives of his superiors socially and to pay assidu 
 ous court to those who could help her in her cam 
 paign and could recommend her husband for pro 
 motion and detached duty. They related in 
 stances of social influence that had reached the 
 White House even, and told tales of dinners where 
 great men gathered at charming boards and dis 
 cussed affairs of state, while the hostess advanced 
 her husband because of what she came to know 
 and the information she could give him of forth 
 coming events. 
 
 All this was sweet music to the ears of Mrs.
 
 A LITTLE DINNER PARTY 13$ 
 
 Marsh, who felt she was capable of just as much 
 as any woman who lived in Washington. She 
 had faith in her husband. She was thoroughly 
 selfish about it, however, for she had no idea of 
 remaining in the background. She resolved to 
 triumph with her husband. She would be the 
 great Mrs. Marsh, the wife of the great Mr. 
 Marsh. She was talking on this strain one after 
 noon to Mrs. Lyster, a sweet and motherly 
 woman, the wife of a senator, who had lived in 
 Washington for twenty years, and who preferred 
 books to society, and the companionship of a few 
 other women of her own age to the general rout, 
 although she was punctilious in her observance of 
 those social duties that devolved upon her. 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Lyster, " I have heard those 
 stories ever since I have been in Washington, and 
 I have no doubt that some of them are true. But 
 I have found it to be the general rule that a wife, 
 in this atmosphere, can best help her husband by 
 taking care of him rather than by trying to advance 
 him. If a woman keeps her husband in a cheer 
 ful frame of mind, looks after his comfort, sees 
 that he is well fed and mothers him, she will do 
 more toward advancing him than she will by in 
 triguing through social efforts or otherwise." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh looked shocked. 
 
 " I am quite well aware," continued Mrs. Lyster 
 comfortably, " that this isn t the present-day view 
 or the Washington view, but it has been my ex 
 perience that in most cases these strivings on the 
 part of wives to advance their husbands are not
 
 i 3 6 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 so much for the sake of the husband as for the 
 sake of the wife. I mean by that that the wife 
 is ambitious to shine socially, and that her oppor 
 tunity for shining increases in exact ratio to the 
 luminous qualities of her husband. I guess, when 
 you figure it out, that the woman who is advancing 
 her husband thinks twice about her own consequent 
 advancement to once of what she is doing for her 
 husband. She works for herself through him." 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Lyster ! " exclaimed Mrs. Marsh; 
 " I don t think that is true. I know, for example, 
 I am thoroughly unselfish in the case of James. I 
 shall be content to remain in the background if he 
 can succeed, and I shall do all I can to help him. 
 That is my sole idea." 
 
 Mrs. Lyster smiled comfortably again. " Of 
 course, my dear," she said, " I know you are the 
 exception. But what I want to say is this: A 
 woman can t help a man do anything that is a 
 man s to do. She can keep him comfortable, air 
 his bed, see to his linen and his meals, preserve 
 his cheerfuln-ess, but his work is his own work and 
 she can t help him. She may push him forward 
 a little, but unless he has it in him to keep ahead 
 she cannot hold him there for any length of time. 
 
 " No, a woman can t help a man do anything 
 he has to do as a man; but there is one thing she 
 can do she can make him feel his dependence 
 on her. It makes no difference how much a man 
 may be praised, how many may flatter him for 
 some accomplishment or some speech or some 
 action, if the one woman says : Oh, piffle ! when
 
 A LITTLE DINNER PARTY 137 
 
 he comes to her, all the rest of the adulation 
 counts for nothing. Conversely, if everybody 
 condemns and the one woman tells him it is well, 
 that he has succeeded, despite the almost universal 
 verdict he walks down the street with his chest 
 thrown out and his head high in the air, for 
 nothing else matters. That, I assume," she con 
 cluded, " is heresy in the present day, and espe 
 cially in the present Washington day, but it is my 
 opinion. Shall we have some tea? " 
 
 Mrs. Marsh did not tell her husband of the 
 old-fashioned views of Mrs. Lyster, although she 
 did remark that she considered Mrs. Lyster archaic 
 in her ideas. 
 
 "Why?" asked Marsh. "I thought her an 
 extremely cultured woman." 
 
 " Oh," said Mrs. Marsh, dismissing the sub 
 ject, " she has a curious, old-fashioned viewpoint." 
 
 Marsh was living from hand to mouth. He 
 had just about enough money to pay his current 
 expenses, which included some rather heavy dress 
 bills of Mrs. Marsh s. He thought one or twice 
 of taking a flyer in the stock market, but he was 
 deterred by his lack of knowledge of inside con 
 ditions. Rambo was polite, but made no ad 
 vances. Marsh felt he had alienated Rambo as 
 well as Senator Paxton by his action on the land 
 bill, and was greatly surprised one morning to find 
 in his mail an invitation from the leader of the 
 Senate asking Marsh to dine with him. Marsh 
 couldn t understand that. He went over to the 
 Senate and asked Senator Paxton what it meant.
 
 138 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " It means he wants you to have dinner with 
 him, I should gather from the general tenor of 
 the invitation," said Paxton. 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 " Lordy! Lordy ! " laughed Paxton, " have you 
 got into that condition of mind where you suspect 
 an ulterior motive in everything that happens in 
 Washington? Surely your well-known independ 
 ent principles " there was a gentle sarcasm 
 about this that made Marsh wince " do not 
 preclude your breaking bread with the leader of 
 the Senate, who is not only a fine fellow but a 
 wonderful host." 
 
 " Of course not," stammered Marsh; " only " 
 
 " Oh, my son," broke in the senator, " do not 
 take yourself so seriously. If he didn t want to 
 meet you and have you there he wouldn t ask you. 
 He isn t trying to put anything over on you. You 
 are one of a company. Do you know," he con 
 tinued, after a pause wherein he laughed frankly 
 at Marsh, " I have never been able to understand 
 why it is when a man in public life begins to think 
 he is out crusading to get or restore some rights 
 for the people, when he thinks he has a brief for 
 the great toiling masses, that he immediately loses 
 all sense of perspective, all sense of humour, and 
 becomes as serious as the multiplication table is to 
 a small boy, and that is the most serious thing we 
 know. 
 
 ;< What is there about this uplift propaganda 
 that sets the eyes of the uplifters, changes them 
 from reasonable human beings to fanatics who
 
 139 
 
 continually cry out against everybody who does 
 not agree with them, and urges them to arrogate 
 all the honesty and all the pureness of motive to 
 themselves? Why does the man who takes up 
 the cause of the people become so intense an 
 egoist that he cannot see any good in anybody but 
 himself? What s the matter with them that life 
 so suddenly assumes so sombre a hue, that the 
 blue goes out of the sky, the colour out of the 
 flowers, the warmth out of the sun, and all is lost 
 save for them, by them and in them? Is it a 
 disease or is it a pose that goes with that par 
 ticular game? " 
 
 " I hadn t thought of it that way," said Marsh 
 stiffly. 
 
 " Of course not, for you are beginning to think 
 you are an uplifter yourself. For Heaven s sake 
 get down to earth ! It may be that we organisa 
 tion fellows are villains it may be, I say cer 
 tainly the uplifters claim we are, but I ll let you 
 in on one thing, and that is that we re cheerful, 
 human, interesting villains and a darned sight 
 better lot of fellows than the crowd you are pre 
 paring to train with, and that goes for every hu 
 man attribute, too, even if some of us can t see 
 that the country is going to wreck and ruin because 
 we are in power. It isn t necessary to be a grouch 
 or a recluse, just because you think you are a fine, 
 young inspired crusader, although most of you 
 are both. And it isn t necessary to associate ex 
 clusively with your own kind, which seems to be 
 the rule, although I must confess that it is only
 
 140 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 among your own kind you ll find persons who will 
 take you as seriously as you take yourselves, which 
 may be the reason. Of course you ll accept the 
 invitation. You ll find a lot of good fellows 
 there, men worth knowing, whether you agree 
 with them or not. I m going myself." 
 
 Marsh accepted. When he told Mrs. Marsh 
 she was much cast down because it was to be a 
 man s dinner and she couldn t go, but, she asserted, 
 she was quite certain the reason Marsh was in 
 vited was because she had called twice on the 
 host s wife, and had received cards from her, via 
 her footman, on a reception day at their hotel. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh was feeling her responsibilities. 
 She had early learned the value of publicity, and 
 kept in constant communication with the society 
 editors of the various papers in Washington, send 
 ing them minute accounts of her various activities, 
 which they generally printed along with columns 
 of other details sent in by other equally ambitious 
 women. Once, through the friendly intervention 
 of a woman who knew the society editor of a Sun 
 day paper, she had had her picture printed, with 
 the pictures of several other ladies, on Sunday 
 morning in the society page, as " one of the charm 
 ing hostesses at the Dewilton Hotel." She bought 
 fifty copies of the paper and sent them to people 
 in Morganville, which might have had something 
 to do with the printing of the picture, although 
 she never thought of that. 
 
 The dinner was rather important. There were 
 about thirty guests senators, House leaders, a
 
 A LITTLE DINNER PARTY 141 
 
 cabinet-member or two and half a dozen big busi 
 ness men from New York, mostly connected with 
 financial interests, who seemed to know everybody 
 there but Marsh and one or two others of as recent 
 date as he was. The host lived in a great house 
 on a fashionable street, the service was perfect, 
 the food all that could be desired and the wines 
 beyond criticism. To the great astonishment of 
 Marsh no politics was talked at the dinner. 
 There was only a general conversation. Two or 
 three of the guests were good story tellers, and 
 were eagerly besought to retail their stock of anec 
 dotes. The laughter became a little heartier along 
 toward the close of the dinner, but that was the 
 only evidence of the effect of the wine. Marsh 
 sought a chance, and during a lull told a funny 
 story himself. He was instantly hailed as an ad 
 vantageous adjunct to the party, urged to tell more 
 stories, which he did, having a stock of them and 
 knowing how to bring out the points, and when 
 the dinner was over and they had gone to the 
 library to smoke their second cigars before leav 
 ing, the host brought up the New York business 
 men and introduced them to Marsh, mentioning 
 him as " a brilliant young Republican from the 
 West." He also met several senators he had not 
 met before. 
 
 There was an air of good fellowship over it all. 
 One of the New York business men had a voice 
 and sang lively songs. A senator, of whom 
 Marsh had been reading for years as one of the 
 party leaders and a great power, recited a long
 
 142 
 
 humorous poem with great declamatory effect, and 
 Marsh found to his astonishment that these men 
 joked and joshed one another on affairs and pro 
 jects and policies he considered of the gravest im 
 port, and larked about as if there were no such 
 place as the Capitol. The man who could get the 
 stiffest joke on another man was the momentary 
 hero, and there was no regard for feelings, no def 
 erence to dignity. 
 
 Marsh had expected there would be speeches 
 and had prepared himself for a five-minutes 
 talk, thinking he might be called upon rather 
 expecting it, in fact, in view of his recent big 
 speech; and he was disappointed when the sen 
 ator who afterward recited the humorous poem, 
 as soon as they were seated at dinner called to 
 the host: "Look here, Charley, how about it? 
 No speeches, I take it?" 
 
 " Not a speech," the host replied. 
 
 The senator who asked the question rose at his 
 place and said: " Gentlemen, you have heard the 
 decision. No speeches. A vote of thanks is in 
 order." 
 
 " Let s drink to his health, and may fye never 
 break this rule at his dinners," said another. 
 
 So they drank to that proposition with cheers, 
 but Marsh felt that he had been deprived of an 
 opportunity. 
 
 The New York business men chatted with him 
 for a few minutes. They talked on general topics. 
 They said they hoped they might be better ac 
 quainted, and were pleasant and affable and did
 
 A LITTLE DINNER PARTY 143 
 
 not look like custodians of the fearsome Money 
 Demon at all. In fact they appeared to be clean- 
 cut, affable, modest men, not ogres or predaceous 
 plutocrats. Not one of them looked like Marsh s 
 preconceived ideas of a Captain of High Finance. 
 Marsh told his wife, when he reached the hotel, 
 he had had a very pleasant evening. 
 
 A week or so later Senator Paxton gave a dinner 
 and asked Marsh. There were fourteen guests, 
 four of the same business men from New York 
 who had dined with the Senate leader and the re 
 mainder senators and representatives. Several 
 members besides Marsh who had been at the pre 
 vious dinner were there. The amusement after 
 dinner was poker. Two games, seven at a table, 
 were organised. Marsh felt nervous over this, 
 for he had little money to lose and he imagined 
 the game would be a big one. He soon discovered 
 that the mere fact that a man is a millionaire 
 doesn t necessarily mean he is either a prodigal or 
 a producer at poker. The richest men played 
 most cautiously, and were derided by the poorer 
 ones for holding the cards so close. The game 
 was five-dollar limit, all jack-pots, with the dealer 
 anteing each time. When four of a kind were 
 held there was a round of " roodles," which meant 
 the limit was increased to ten dollars on that 
 round. 
 
 Marsh knew poker fairly well, and he decided 
 to take no long chances, but to play his cards for 
 no more than they were worth and to watch things 
 carefully. He had heard stones of poker games
 
 i 4 4 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 in Washington where innocent members were in 
 veigled in and bribed by crafty villains who lost 
 large sums to them by betting on small hands. 
 He wondered if that was the plot for him, but he 
 soon found nobody in that gathering had any in 
 tention of giving any money to him unless he had 
 the cards to take it with, and mostly when he 
 called what he thought was a bluff he found his 
 opponent had the cards to justify his faith and 
 his money. It was a noisy, lively game, with the 
 players joking one another and telling stories, and 
 it closed promptly at midnight. Each man had 
 been handed a hundred dollars worth of chips, 
 and when the settlements were made Marsh 
 found he had won a hundred and fifteen dollars. 
 Only two others were larger winners than he. 
 
 " The same old story," chaffed Senator Paxton, 
 who had lost three hundred dollars. " The new 
 man always wins. But," he said, turning to 
 Marsh, " beware, my son, for we ll hook you yet." 
 
 Most of the party had carriages and automo 
 biles waiting outside, but Marsh announced he 
 would walk to his hotel. 
 
 " I ll walk down with you," said one of the 
 New Yorkers, George F. Quicksall by name, who 
 was connected with one of the big banking com 
 binations of New York. 
 
 Quicksall talked of finance as they walked along 
 and Marsh was greatly interested. He questioned 
 Quicksall on some points in relation to the market. 
 
 "Do you ever do anything in the Street?" 
 asked Quicksall,
 
 A LITTLE DINNER PARTY 145 
 
 " Not much. Occasionally I buy a few shares 
 of stock. Is there anything interesting over 
 there?" 
 
 Marsh had been bursting to ask this ques 
 tion of the New York men ever since he met 
 them. He wanted money and he wanted it 
 badly. 
 
 " Well," said Quicksall, " I know of a pool that 
 is being organised to carry a few thousand shares 
 of a certain stock for a ten-point rise. I might 
 get you some of that." 
 
 "How much would it take?" asked Marsh 
 eagerly. 
 
 " How much what? " 
 
 " How much money? " 
 
 " Oh," said Quicksall carelessly, " not much, as 
 money goes. I don t know exactly yet where they 
 will take the stuff over, but I ll put you down for 
 a thousand shares and we can settle afterward 
 when the books are made up." 
 
 "A thousand shares? " gasped Marsh. 
 
 " Yes, that ll be about a tenth of it. I am quite 
 sure my associates will be glad to have you in with 
 
 us." 
 
 " But," stammered Marsh, " but I don t 
 know as That s a big order " 
 
 Quicksall looked at Marsh curiously as they 
 passed a street lamp. He saw Marsh was much 
 excited, but palpably afraid. 
 
 " I am quite sure it will be all right, Mr. 
 Marsh," said Quicksall. " However there s no 
 hurry. Think it over and let me know. If you
 
 i 4 6 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 don t want it it will be all right " ; and he gave 
 Marsh his card. 
 
 Marsh slept very little that night. He was try 
 ing to figure out a way to get money to cover his 
 interest in case the speculation failed. In his 
 heart he knew it wouldn t fail, but he kept that in 
 formation away from his head.
 
 XIII 
 
 EASY MONEY 
 
 ""1^^ "T" ICE party we had last night," said 
 
 ^^L Senator Paxton to Marsh next day 
 
 ^^ when they met at the Capitol. 
 
 -^- ^ " Pretty lucky to get away with 
 that money, too, with those wolves trying to eat 
 you up." 
 
 " I noticed they played them pretty close to 
 their bosoms," Marsh replied. 
 
 " Greatest tightwads in the world," said Pax- 
 ton, " with the exception of the few liberal ones. 
 Most of them would rather lose their right legs 
 than overplay a hand or lose a pot." 
 
 " By the way, senator," asked Marsh, trying to 
 appear as if the question was merely for purpose 
 of gratifying his curiosity, " who s Mr. Quick 
 sall?" 
 
 "Quicksall? Oh, Quicksall is one of the 
 junior partners in the big house of Stunz & Stur- 
 gess. He s a likely young fellow who looks out 
 a good deal for legislative matters they are inter 
 ested in and is a comer. Why? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing! I walked down with him last 
 night and he seems to be a nice fellow." 
 
 " Wise, too," commented the senator, 
 J47
 
 i 4 8 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 "Knows his way about. He made a lot of money 
 for me not long ago." 
 
 " How? " asked Marsh eagerly. 
 
 " Put me in on an underwriting scheme that 
 split $200,000, and I got a tenth of it." 
 
 " How much did you have to put up? " 
 
 "How much did I have to put up?" re 
 peated Paxton in surprise. " Why, I didn t put 
 up anything. I merely took a tenth of the under 
 writing and stood to lose that tenth if anything 
 broke or went wrong; but nothing did and I got 
 my share of the profit on the deal. There s one 
 good thing about Quicksall he doesn t want it 
 all himself. He s willing to split now and then 
 and he s mighty popular round here." 
 
 Marsh was reassured. He turned the conversa 
 tion to another channel, but when he walked down 
 Pennsylvania Avenue from the House, after ad 
 journment, he dropped into Quicksall s hotel and 
 told him he would take a chance in the pool. 
 
 " All right," said Quicksall. " I don t think 
 you can lose. I ll write you in a few days and tell 
 you what your share is." 
 
 Quicksall left for New York on the midnight 
 train. Five days later Marsh received a letter 
 in an envelope bearing the Stunz & Sturgess im 
 print. He opened it nervously. There was a 
 cheque for $6500 in it and this letter: 
 
 "Dear Mr. Marsh: I found when I returned 
 " to New York that matter we spoke about was 
 " much nearer action than I had supposed. I
 
 EASY MONEY 149 
 
 " put you in for a thousand shares, assumed the 
 " responsibility on what you had told me, and to- 
 " day we closed out at a seven-point rise. Your 
 " share of the expense is $500, and I beg to hand 
 " you herewith our cheque for $6500. Trusting 
 " this will be satisfactory to you, I am, 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 " GEORGE F. QUICKSALL." 
 
 " Trusting this will be satisfactory to you ! " re 
 peated Marsh to himself in a dazed sort of a way. 
 " I wonder if there ever was anything quite so 
 satisfactory to anybody on this earth before?" 
 
 Marsh couldn t keep his eyes off the cheque. 
 Those figures, $6500, seemed to hypnotise him. 
 Three times he put it in his pocketbook, and each 
 time he took it out, looked at it again, turned it 
 over, held it up to the light, patted it, caressed it. 
 It was a lifesaver for him. He was short of 
 funds. He needed money, and here six thousand 
 five hundred dollars dropped into his lap. He 
 recalled the Biblical story of manna dropping from 
 Heaven. He was a lucky man. 
 
 But was he? That question constantly ob 
 truded; and another: Why had Quicksall, a man 
 whom he had met but twice, done this thing for 
 him? He recalled Senator Paxton s description 
 of him: " One of the junior partners in the big 
 house of Stunz & Sturgess. He s a likely young 
 fellow, who looks out a good deal for legislative 
 matters they are interested in and is a comer." 
 
 Marsh pondered that : " Looks out for legis-
 
 150 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 lative matters they are interested in." That no 
 doubt was the explanation. Quicksall wanted to 
 put Marsh under obligations to him. And if he 
 had but known it he had put Marsh under tre 
 mendous obligations to him, for Marsh needed 
 cash, needed it desperately. Still there was the 
 other side of it. Could Marsh afford to take the 
 money ? It was certain that sooner or later Quick 
 sall would ask for his pound of flesh. He would 
 demand a return. These men, thought Marsh, 
 are not philanthropists. They are not handing 
 out money in six-thousand-dollar chunks to mem 
 bers of Congress who are temporarily embar 
 rassed for the mere pleasure of relieving the ne 
 cessities of those statesmen. There was no char 
 ity about it. It wasn t a gift. It was a deliber 
 ate opening of negotiations with Marsh, a retainer 
 for services to be rendered in the future, services 
 that, in all probability, would not only be difficult 
 to perform but dangerous politically. Marsh was 
 no child, no fool. He was under no delusions as 
 to the nature of this gift, for it was a gift with a 
 string attached, and Marsh saw the string. He 
 didn t argue that side of it much with himself. 
 His question was whether in the circumstances he 
 could afford to take the money. How much would 
 it embarrass him in the future ? Would it be safe ? 
 The honesty or dishonesty of the transac 
 tion didn t figure conspicuously in Marsh s delib 
 erations. With him it was mainly a question of 
 expediency. He set his need for the money on
 
 EASY MONEY 151 
 
 the one side, and itemised all the places where 
 parts of it could be applied with advantage to him 
 self and his affairs. On the other side he placed 
 the danger of being found out, the strength of the 
 hold on him the transaction would give Quicksall, 
 the effect it might have on him politically if word 
 that he was taking money from Wall Street got 
 back to his district, where Wall Street was a 
 synonym for Gehenna. He balanced these items, 
 weighed one against the other, felt inclined to 
 send the cheque back, but was restrained when he 
 saw that magic " $6500 " and thought what he 
 could do with the cash. 
 
 Another thing that puzzled him was why they 
 had chosen him for their schemes. His only ap 
 pearance, except in a set speech or two on a na 
 tional policy and his committee work, had been in 
 opposition to the organisation when he fought the 
 landgrab bill. He had flattered himself he had 
 shown a real independence of thought and action 
 in that matter. He had hoped to impress on the 
 minds of the leaders of the organisation that he 
 was a man to be reckoned with, a man who would 
 not blindly follow where they led, but who would 
 carve out a way for himself if the path of the regu 
 lars was not to his liking. He even had visions 
 of becoming a great opposition leader, of voic 
 ing the protest of the people against this con 
 gressional oligarchy, and here he was, within a 
 month of his first real exhibition of the thought 
 that was in him, in receipt of a cheque for $6500
 
 152 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 from one of the most interested of the interests, 
 and reluctant to send back the cheque and declare 
 his independence, his refusal to be bribed. 
 
 Twice Marsh began a letter to Quicksall, re 
 turning the money, not angrily but pleasantly in 
 forming Quicksall he was mistaken in his man and 
 that he never took money for which he had not 
 made an adequate return. Twice the alluring 
 figures on the cheque held him back, and he tore up 
 the letters and returned the cheque to his pocket- 
 book. He was thoroughly uncomfortable, and he 
 resolved to talk with Senator Paxton in order to 
 get the viewpoint of a man who undoubtedly had 
 taken just such money many times and made no 
 secret of it. 
 
 He went over to the Senate side of the Capitol 
 and found Paxton, who was in his committee room 
 dictating letters. 
 
 " Sit down, Marsh, and have a cigar," said Pax- 
 ton. " I ll be through here in a minute or two." 
 Paxton turned to his stenographer and said: 
 " Take this : George F. Quicksall, care Stunz 
 & Sturgess. My dear Quicksall 
 
 Paxton was dictating in an ordinary conversa 
 tional tone and was paying no attention to Marsh s 
 presence in the room. Marsh listened. He 
 didn t mean to, but he couldn t help it. He won 
 dered what the senator had to say to Quicksall, 
 and although he tried to read a newspaper he felt 
 himself straining his ears to hear what the letter 
 contained.
 
 EASY MONEY 153 
 
 " My dear Quicksall, " continued the senator. 
 "Got that? I am in receipt of your letter of 
 " yesterday with inclosure. I am glad to note 
 " that our venture turned out so satisfactorily. I 
 " hear you were generous with this informa- 
 " tion and that several of our mutual friends were 
 " included in the deal. While we all understand 
 " perfectly that this action on your part was predi- 
 " cated on no motive other than that of good-fel- 
 " low-ship, I can assure you that I for one am not 
 " indifferent to this further evidence of your long- 
 " enjoyed friendship, and shall hope to see you 
 " soon in person in order that I may have an op- 
 " portunity to express my thanks by word of 
 " mouth. With sincere regards, I am, yours faith- 
 " fully. " 
 
 " I ll sign that myself," said the senator to his 
 stenographer. " For Heaven s sake see that it 
 gets in my personal letters. Last week you sent 
 out a letter with a rubber-stamp signature that was 
 going to a very touchy person, and I had the 
 dickens of a time squaring myself." 
 
 " It s strange," Paxton continued, turning to 
 Marsh, " how a little thing like that will raise 
 trouble. Of course you know how many letters 
 come into a place like this, and you yourself un 
 doubtedly have a series of form replies that can 
 be typewritten by your stenographer and sent back 
 with a rubber-stamp signature or signed by the 
 stenographer. Well, if by any accident a rubber-
 
 154 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 stamped letter gets to a man who thinks he is en 
 titled to a real, pen-and-ink signature from me, 
 he is much more insulted than he would be if I 
 had written him a letter in my own copperplate 
 handwriting and refused his request. 
 
 " The ancient but crafty philosopher who said: 
 All is vanity, had an adequate understanding of 
 the situation. It is my experience, Marsh, that 
 the human machine, as it is typed in this country, 
 has two predominating attributes. One is vanity 
 and the other is incompetency. Most of the hu 
 man rabbits with whom men in our position have 
 to deal are obsessed of two ideas. The first is 
 that they are much more important than they really 
 are and capable of doing a great many things they 
 cannot by any possibility do, and the second is that 
 somebody, usually me, is under obligations to get 
 them the chance to do these great things. The 
 simple expedient of going out and getting the 
 chance for themselves never occurs to them. 
 
 " The greatest curse that ever fell on this world 
 was the curse of using influence to get position and 
 to hold it. It is as old as history, and it has 
 reached its highest development in these United 
 States of America. Men and women too 
 who might do something of their own initiative 
 waste years in trying to get somebody to use his 
 influence to help them. The thought that some 
 merit of their own might assist never gets to them. 
 They must have influence. So we have built a 
 government wherein the man who can bring the 
 greatest pull to bear is the man who gets the of-
 
 EASY MONEY 155; 
 
 fice, not the man who deserves it. And it is an. 
 organised affair. A political organisation is noth 
 ing but a systematised, crystallised application of 
 influence. The scrubwoman goes to the organisa 
 tion for influence to help her get her job, or to some 
 member of the organisation who can use his in 
 fluence on some other member, and so on up until 
 the whole machine is interested; and so does a man 
 who wants to be an ambassador. And the blight 
 of it all is that most of those who can get influence 
 lack in the ability they should have to be worthy 
 of the places they get. 
 
 " A man gets a place through some pull or 
 other. His interest isn t in doing his work so 
 that he may hold his job, but in holding his influ 
 ence so he may hold his job. We ve tried to 
 remedy it with civil-service reform, and we haven t 
 succeeded, for there is no way to make over or 
 change human nature by statute, however much 
 various brands of reformers may think there is. 
 And the incompetency of these half-educated, half- 
 baked, wholly irresponsible people appals one. 
 Their only idea is to do as little work as they can 
 for their money, and their usual attitude is that of 
 sullen contempt for their bosses for making it pos 
 sible for them to get their pay by putting them to 
 work. It s just like a man to whom you lend 
 money. He becomes your enemy because you have 
 done something for him. 
 
 " But, pshaw, it s as old as the race, and it will 
 be there when the end comes. Only beware of 
 the pest with a grievance. He is the most terri-
 
 156 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 ble outcome of the whole scheme of things. 
 There is where the vanity of it comes in. He 
 thinks his petty trouble is the most important thing 
 in the world, and maybe it is to him; but once he 
 gets a chance to exhibit his sores and find a little 
 sympathy, the craving to have those sores on per 
 petual exhibition grows on him until he is the most 
 frightful bore I know about. I ve got a couple 
 of them on my hands now. Don t be surprised if 
 you read in the papers some morning that Senator 
 Paxton ran amuck last night and killed a few per 
 sons who had been in consultation with him every 
 day for weeks. 
 
 " However, how are you? I ve just been writ 
 ing a letter to Quicksall. Did he let you in on that 
 pool? Good thing that. Neat little cheque came 
 in in the mail this morning. Nice boy, Quicksall, 
 and he never asks for a thing." 
 
 " Yes," said Marsh, " he put me in, and I don t 
 know what to do about- it." 
 
 "Don t know what to do about what? " 
 
 " Why, I had a conversation with him one 
 night, and he told me of a pool that was forming 
 to buy ten thousand shares of a stock he didn t 
 tell me what stock and said I could have a 
 tenth of it. I told him I didn t think I could 
 swing that much, and he said he d carry it for me 
 for a time until I made up my mind. Then if I 
 didn t take it no harm would be done. This 
 morning I got a letter from him and a cheque for 
 $6500 as my share of a pool I didn t know I was
 
 EASY MONEY 157, 
 
 in on even, to say nothing of having put up no 
 money." 
 
 Paxton laughed. " So that s it, is it?" he 
 asked. " You feel that this money is more or 
 less of a gift? " 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 Well, perhaps it is, if you look at it in that 
 light, but you want to remember that a gift that 
 entails obligation is a gift that costs the giver 
 something. This deal didn t cost Quicksall any 
 thing, except the mere lending of his name to the 
 pool. He had a ten-thousand-share part of it. 
 If he chose to split that ten-thousand-share part 
 and give you a tenth of it, say, and then turn over 
 the profits, why should you kick? He didn t ask 
 you to do anything, did he? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " You wouldn t do anything you shouldn t do 
 if he did, would you? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You don t hold yourself so cheaply that a lit 
 tle transaction like this would influence you in any 
 way in legislative matters, do you? " 
 
 " I do not," exclaimed Marsh emphatically. 
 
 "Well then, where s the harm? A man you 
 meet apparently takes a liking to you. It comes 
 his way to do you a little favour, and he does it; 
 and you sit round, mooching and grouching, and 
 thinking he is trying to buy you, while he probably 
 had no idea in his head other than to be a good 
 fellow."
 
 158 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " But," said Marsh, " you told me yourself that 
 he looks out for legislative matters for his firm." 
 
 " Certainly he does, and it s up to him to be on 
 good terms with the men who legislate. If he 
 can do a turn for any of them that s business, 
 just as it is business when a New York merchant 
 invites a buyer from Morganville out, feeds him 
 well and takes him to a show. It s all one 
 business. He wants you to know who he is and 
 to be his friend when anything comes along he is 
 interested in. He isn t trying to get you to do 
 anything immoral or dishonest or against your 
 principles, but he wants you to be his friend, and 
 thinks, perhaps, he may have a shade the better of 
 it when it comes to a showdown. If he doesn t 
 get that shade he makes no protest. He ll never 
 suggest even that you shall do anything out of the 
 way for him. He s merely taking a sporting 
 chance on making you his friend, and, I take it, 
 you are sport enough to play the game, epecially 
 when it is understood on both sides that there is 
 no obligation." 
 
 " But there will be an obligation," protested 
 Marsh. 
 
 " Nonsense ! Let me tell you, Marsh, if 
 George Quicksall or any other man of his stamp 
 had even the remotest idea they could buy you for 
 sixty-five hundred dollars they wouldn t buy you 
 if they could get you for ten cents. It s proof 
 they think they can t buy you when they let you in 
 on a perfectly legitimate deal like this." 
 
 " That side of it hadn t occurred to me," said
 
 EASY MONEY 159 
 
 Marsh, who could see the figures on the cheque 
 " $6500." 
 
 Well, it s so. And I take it the money will 
 come in handy? " 
 
 " It certainly will." 
 
 " Then stick the cheque in the bank and think 
 no more about it. I m going down now to de 
 posit mine. Want to ride with me? " 
 
 " No," said Marsh, " I ve got a committee 
 meeting." 
 
 Notwithstanding the arguments of Senator Pax- 
 ton, Marsh was uneasy in his mind. He felt 
 qualms of conscience. He felt knew Quick- 
 sail didn t let him in because he had taken a 
 violent fancy to him after meeting him twice. He 
 couldn t understand why he had been invited to 
 those dinners. It puzzled him; but that after 
 noon he had a chance to get into a hot debate, and 
 acquitted himself so well that many of his col 
 leagues came over and congratulated him, and he 
 had forgotten all about the cheque when he went 
 to his hotel elated over his success. 
 
 " Jim," said Mrs. Marsh after dinner, " Doro 
 thy came in to see me this afternoon." 
 
 "How is she?" 
 
 " Oh, very well, and she is full of the amateur 
 theatricals the girls of the school are going to 
 give next month. She has a leading part." 
 
 " Are they teaching her to be an actress along 
 with other useful accomplishments?" inquired 
 Marsh. 
 
 " Of course not, but it is a great thing for a girl
 
 160 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 in her first year to have this distinction. She is 
 crazy about it. She came in to talk to me about 
 her costume." 
 
 " Her costume? " Marsh sat up straight. He 
 knew what was coming. 
 
 " Certainly. You didn t think she could ap 
 pear in her street dress, did you?" 
 
 "No," answered Marsh; "my experience is 
 that neither of you can appear twice in any dress 
 you may happen to have." 
 
 " Don t be nasty, Jim," said Mrs. Marsh 
 calmly. The point is that Dorothy, who is to 
 take the part of a lady of the Eighteenth Century, 
 is obliged to buy a very expensive costume." 
 
 " How much will it cost? " 
 
 " Oh, I don t know yet, for there are special 
 shoes and wigs and all that to go with it. I m 
 afraid it will be quite expensive, though, for Doro 
 thy has one of the leading parts, and her cos 
 tume will have to be rather elaborate." 
 
 " Huh! " commented Marsh. 
 
 " And while we re on the subject of clothes, 
 dear," she added sweetly, " I find I ve simply got 
 to have three new gowns myself." 
 
 Three new gowns! " Marsh jumped from his 
 chair. " Good Lord, Molly, you must think I m 
 a millionaire. Well, I m not, and it s costing me 
 all I can get and more to keep up this social fool 
 ishness of yours. Where s it going to stop? " 
 
 Mrs. Marsh didn t reply. Instead, she wept a 
 little. Marsh walked about the room, fidgeted 
 with some books on the table, lighted a cigar,
 
 EASY MONEY i6i 
 
 looked out the window, took a glass of water, 
 fidgeted with some more books, tried to read a 
 newspaper. Finally he went over to her chair. 
 
 " All right, Molly," he said. " I guess I can 
 make it." 
 
 He knew he could, for before his eyes was dan 
 cing that pink slip of paper with " $6500 " written 
 on it and stamped across it in perforated letters: 
 " Not over six thousand five hundred," and the 
 signature of Stunz & Sturgess at the bottom. It 
 would have been good if it had been for six mil 
 lion five hundred thousand. 
 
 Next day he put the cheque in the bank. His 
 banker friend saw him at the window, greeted him 
 with one of those restricted smiles of his and with 
 elaborate politeness. As soon as Marsh left the 
 bank the banker went into the cage of the receiv 
 ing teller and looked at the cheque. He smiled 
 again when he saw it, smiled another of those 
 smiles that only included his lips; and there was 
 no smile in his eyes.
 
 XIV 
 
 " BE BOSS YOURSELF 
 
 I 
 
 session ended. Marsh made sev 
 eral speeches that added to his repu 
 tation in his district, at least, for he 
 sent them out under his frank as 
 11 part of the Congressional Record " to most of 
 his constituents. He developed a facility in de 
 bate, and several times was put up by the majority 
 leader to help in the fight for a bill. He was 
 hailed as a comer and the leaders watched him 
 narrowly. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh was getting invitations to more 
 exclusive functions. She had her picture in the 
 papers again, and she never failed to supply the 
 society editors with the minutest chronicle of her 
 social activities. Marsh went to three dinners 
 given by men of prominence, and he and Mrs. 
 IMarsh dined with the Paxtons in a large company 
 and at several other good houses. Marsh was 
 proud of his wife, who was a most attractive 
 woman and very popular because of her vivacity 
 and skill at small talk. Her gowns were the envy 
 of many of the women. She wore them well and 
 had excellent taste. The sixty-five hundred dol 
 lars helped out amazingly, and there was a good 
 
 162
 
 "BE BOSS YOURSELF " 163 
 
 bit of it left when the family returned to Morgan- 
 ville for the summer. Marsh had met Quicksall 
 several times, but, after the first interchange of 
 thanks and protestations that it was nothing, the 
 subject of the cheque did not come up between 
 them nor did Quicksall offer to do anything more 
 for him. 
 
 The Congressional Convention was called early 
 that year and Marsh was renominated by acclama 
 tion. His speech of acceptance roused much en 
 thusiasm. McManus sat on the platform when 
 he made it. The Democrats put up a weak man 
 and Marsh thought he had a walk-away for elec 
 tion. 
 
 One morning, in the first week in September, 
 McManus sent for Marsh. 
 
 " Jim," said the boss, " the county nominating 
 convention comes next week." 
 
 " I know it." 
 
 ; Well, we ve got to pick out a man for district- 
 attorney. That s going to be our most important 
 office, because this Civic Betterment League is 
 mixing in so hard some of the boys are bound to 
 get into trouble." 
 
 ; Who ve you got in mind? " asked Marsh in 
 differently. 
 
 McManus squared round, looked Marsh 
 straight in the eye and said: "Billy Hoover." 
 
 ; What? " shouted Marsh, jumping to his feet. 
 "Not that crook?" 
 
 " Yes," replied McManus quietly. " I am go 
 ing to nominate Billy Hoover."
 
 1 64 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " But, Bob," protested Marsh, " you can t do 
 that ! Billy Hoover is known all over this dis 
 trict as a blackmailer, a thief, a shyster, briber, a 
 jury-fixer. Why, I ve even heard he s a white 
 slaver." 
 
 " Nevertheless," answered McManus, " I m 
 going to nominate Billy Hoover for district-at 
 torney and you ve got to stand for it." 
 
 "By God, I won t stand for it!" shouted 
 Marsh. " I won t stand for it for a single 
 damned minute ! You might as well know that 
 here and now ! You can t tie me up with any such 
 crook as Hoover! It s preposterous! You must 
 be crazy, Bob, to think of imperilling the whole lot 
 of us by sticking that scoundrel on the ticket. It s 
 indecent. You can t do it." 
 
 " I can do it," said McManus, " and what s 
 more I m going to do it. And you might just as 
 well cut out the heroics and take your medicine. 
 Billy Hoover is going on the ticket and you re go 
 ing to support him." 
 
 "I won t 1" yelled Marsh, wild with rage. 
 You can t handicap me that way with this thief, 
 merely because some of your ballot-stealing, brib 
 ing, repeating saloonkeepers and divekeepers and 
 handy men may get what is coming to them. You 
 can t do it, McManus. I won t stand for it, I 
 tell you." 
 
 McManus lighted a fresh cigar with elaborate 
 care. " Jim," he said, " I d like to know, just to 
 gratify my own curiosity, what you can do about 
 it?"
 
 " BE BOSS YOURSELF v 165 
 
 " I ll go out and fight him. I ll go out and fight 
 you. I ll make a campaign against him. I ll 
 brand him as a thief on every stump in the county. 
 I ll _ I ll _ 
 
 " Hold on, Jim. Don t make any rash threats. 
 Sit down for a minute and think what will happen 
 to you if you get gay in this way." 
 
 Marsh sank into a chair. He was pale. Cold 
 sweat stood out on his forehead. His hands 
 were clammy. His heart beat wildly. He knew 
 what would happen to him. He would be beaten, 
 and McManus would beat him. 
 
 " For God s sake, McManus," he pleaded, 
 " don t do this. It s an outrage and you know it. 
 It will offend every decent man in the county and 
 every decent woman. The people will rise up 
 against it. Have some sense. Think it over. 
 You and I have been good friends and you have 
 done a lot for me, and I m willing to go the limit 
 for you; but this is beyond the limit. It s so far 
 beyond I couldn t hold up my head in this com 
 munity if you put it over and force me to support 
 Hoover. Don t do it, Mac." 
 
 " Jim," said McManus, " there are reasons why 
 I ve got to do it. I ve got to protect the boys be 
 cause I thereby protect myself. We can get away 
 with it. There will be a howl at first, but my or 
 ganisation is strong enough to put it over. If we 
 haven t the votes we can get them. Come on now 
 and play the game." 
 
 "Play the game?" exclaimed Marsh. "You 
 know I m willing enough to play the game, but not
 
 1 66 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 this kind of a game. What sort of a game is it, 
 Bob, when you deliberately insult the whole com 
 munity by putting up a crook and a scoundrel for 
 district-attorney, your prosecuting officer, on a 
 ticket as a candidate of a party to which more than 
 half of our people belong? " 
 
 " It s the game of politics," answered McManus 
 slowly. " It s the rotten game of politics, but it s 
 the game that I am playing and that you are play 
 ing, and we ve got to play it together or we ll 
 both lose out." 
 
 Marsh sat and stared at the floor. After five 
 minutes, during which neither man spoke, Mc 
 Manus said: " Think it over, Jim, and come and 
 see me in a day or two. I m going to do it. 
 Don t forget that." 
 
 Marsh walked unsteadily up the street. He 
 saw his whole future imperilled. He knew there 
 would be a revolt against the candidacy of Hoover, 
 especially as the Civic Betterment League was so 
 active in the politics of Morganville. He knew 
 there would be an independent candidate. He 
 knew he would be called upon to state his position 
 as to Hoover. He knew he would be beaten if he 
 stood by McManus. He wondered what had 
 happened to McManus. Was he sane? Had 
 he suddenly been bereft of his political judgment? 
 The thing was unexplainable to him. His mind 
 refused to grasp it. He would go back to Mc 
 Manus and argue with him, plead with him not 
 to do this thing. It was suicide. It was criminal. 
 And most of all it would defeat him.
 
 "BE BOSS YOURSELF" 167 
 
 Marsh took a long walk out in the country, turn 
 ing the thing over in his mind. He knew Mc- 
 Manus was set in his ways, was an absolute boss, 
 and that he could nominate Hoover or any other 
 man, so complete was his control of the nominat 
 ing machinery. He knew also that McManus 
 could and would defeat him. To be sure he had 
 the regular nomination, but there was still time 
 for McManus to put up an independent candidate 
 against him, which he could do easily, or else he 
 could throw the support of his organisation to the 
 Democrat named against Marsh. The turn of 
 six hundred votes would elect his opponent. Mc 
 Manus controlled more than six hundred votes 
 in Morganville alone, to say nothing of the rest 
 of the district. 
 
 When he got back to his office, still undeter 
 mined as to his course, he found a telegram there 
 from Paxton, who was at his home in the city 
 fifty miles away. " Come over and see me. Im 
 portant," it read. Marsh took the evening train 
 and reached the senator s house at ten o clock. 
 
 " Hello, Jim," said the senator, as Marsh came 
 into the library where Paxton was seated. " Glad 
 to see you. I note you were nominated again 
 without any trouble." 
 
 " Yes and no," answered Marsh. " There 
 wasn t any trouble about the nomination, but 
 there s a hell of a lot of it now." 
 
 Paxton handed him a cigar. " That s what I 
 want to talk with you about," he said. 
 
 There was a pause. Then the senator began:
 
 i68 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " I understand Bob McManus is going to nomi 
 nate Billy Hoover for district-attorney." 
 
 " That s what he says, but I can t think he means 
 it." 
 
 " Oh, he means it all right. He s in a hole 
 with the things that Civic Betterment League has 
 dug up. You know, Marsh, McManus hasn t 
 been exactly what you might call an exponent of 
 purity in elections over there in your county or in 
 the district either." 
 
 " I suppose not." 
 
 " You know not. Well, he s got a lot of the 
 judges on his staff, but he s got to have the dis 
 trict-attorney too, for sure as a gun there will be 
 some attempts to indict him and some of his fol 
 lowers. He s got to have the right representa 
 tion before the grand jury. So he s picked 
 Hoover, and Hoover will do anything he tells 
 him to do." 
 
 " And in the meantime," said Marsh bitterly, 
 " I get the worst of it and so do all the rest of the 
 men on the ticket, just because McManus is trying 
 to save his own skin." 
 
 " Well, Jim," and the senator was very gentle 
 about it, " McManus is human and politics is the 
 most selfish game on this earth. You know that. 
 We can t blame him for trying to look out for 
 himself." 
 
 " And I ve got to stand for it merely because 
 McManus happens to be the boss of the county," 
 Marsh exclaimed passionately. 
 
 Paxton puffed reflectively at his cigar. After
 
 " BE BOSS YOURSELF : 169 
 
 a minute or two he turned to Marsh and put his 
 hand on Marsh s shoulder. " Not necessarily, 
 Jim," he said quietly; " not necessarily." 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Marsh, jump 
 ing to his feet excitedly. " Do you mean I can 
 beat him in the convention? " 
 
 " No, I don t mean that. That wouldn t 
 amount to anything. It would merely save him 
 from error. Sit down." 
 
 "What do you mean then?" Marsh was 
 eager; his eyes blazed. 
 
 " I mean," said Senator Paxton slowly, " that 
 you can jump in and take the organisation away 
 from McManus and be the boss yourself." 
 
 Marsh started from his chair again. He 
 walked nervously to the end of the room, stood 
 for a minute looking out of a window, then turned 
 and asked: "Could I? Do you think I could? " 
 
 Why not? The stage seems to be set for 
 you. All it needs is for you to come on and play 
 the part." 
 
 " But," said Marsh hesitatingly, " that would 
 be damned ingratitude on my part." 
 
 " Gratitude, my dear Jim," remarked the sen 
 ator, smiling a little, " is one of the most valuable 
 of the human attributes valuable because, like 
 radium, it is so rare, and far beyond the value of 
 radium in politics, where it is so scarce as to be 
 practically unknown. Sit down. There s noth 
 ing to get excited about. Let me outline the sit 
 uation to you: McManus, to save his own skin, 
 has decided to name a crook for district-attorney
 
 170 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 to complete his protective chain, which begins with 
 his control of the courts. He is personally in 
 different whether you or any one else is ruined 
 in the process. That shows, I should say, a de 
 cided lack of gratitude on his part for what you 
 have done for him and you have done things, as 
 I know. Now, then, Jim, Bob McManus has 
 ceased to be useful to us. He has overplayed his 
 hand. Sooner or later he is bound to be the cen 
 tre of a big political scandal, and we are not look 
 ing for any political scandals at this particular 
 time. Almost providentially he has given us the 
 instruments for his own destruction. In his wild 
 desire to keep himself out of jail he has handed 
 us the very instrument with which we can put him 
 in jail, take his organisation away from him, and 
 become exemplars of purity and reform in poli 
 tics, thus perpetuating ourselves in a manner quite 
 necessary to our ends and aims." 
 
 " But," asked Marsh, who was beginning to 
 feel himself the successor of McManus, " won t 
 his gang stick by him? " 
 
 " There, my son, is where you dispute the truth 
 of the immortal axiom I just enunciated. His 
 gang will not stick by him. No gang, 
 except in the cases of a few sentimental in 
 dividuals, ever stuck by a deposed boss. You do 
 not realise the utter selfishness of this game. Why 
 should a gang stick by McManus? He can t do 
 anything for them after he has lost out. As for 
 gratitude for what he has done for them, that is 
 not to be considered. There ain t no such ani-
 
 "BE BOSS YOURSELF" 171 
 
 mile. They ll quit him the moment he shows 
 signs of losing; don t worry about that." 
 " Why do you put this up to me? " 
 " There you go again, Jim, howling for motives. 
 But if it will satisfy that curiosity of yours and if 
 the reason hasn t occurred to you, or if this is 
 merely an acute attack of mock modesty, of elab 
 orate self-depreciation, I ll tell you why I put it 
 up to you. The reason I asked you to come over 
 here is because I have been watching you in Con 
 gress and I need you in my business. You are a 
 big, strong, clever man. You have the makings 
 of a person I need in this state, a person with the 
 gift of talk, with a good mind and a good sense 
 of proportion to stand out and direct things, or 
 assume to. Of course, you understand, I shall di 
 rect your directing, but that will come later. I 
 want to form the political firm of Paxton and 
 Marsh, and I can do a lot of things for you, and 
 I will, if you will be on the square. Also I can 
 do a few necessary things for myself. You see, 
 Jim," he ended whimsically, " as I pointed out a 
 few minutes ago, the element of selfishness is not 
 entirely separated from the practice of politics 
 as a profession." 
 
 They talked a long time. Paxton had his plans 
 made. Marsh assented to them. He was to re 
 turn to Morganville, tell McManus he would op 
 pose the nomination of Hoover and break defin 
 itely with the boss. Both knew McManus was 
 stubborn enough and confident enough of his 
 power, as he had reason to be, to compel the nom-
 
 1 72 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 ination of Hoover, and Marsh was to make his 
 protest public the moment the nomination was 
 made, organise a revolt, lead it against Mc- 
 Manus, name a good, clean, independent candidate 
 and fight to the finish. They were both sure public 
 sentiment would be with them and that McManus 
 would be beaten. Then Marsh could assume the 
 leadership, reorganise the machine and take his 
 position as the boss. Paxton promised Marsh all 
 the aid he needed from national party sources to 
 make his own campaign, for McManus would con 
 tribute nothing. Everything was arranged. 
 
 " Remember, Jim," said the senator as they 
 parted, " all I ask of you is that you play the 
 game."
 
 XV 
 
 THE SPLIT WITH MC MANUS 
 
 MARSH went to see McManus the 
 second day after he had his confer 
 ence with Senator Paxton. " Bob," 
 he said, " how about that Hoover 
 business? " 
 
 " That s all settled. It s water over the dam," 
 McManus replied. 
 
 " You re going to nominate him? " 
 
 "Sure!" 
 
 11 Well, Bob, I won t stand for it." 
 
 " You won t stand for it? " sneered McManus. 
 " Who in hell cares whether you stand for it or 
 not? What difference does that make to me? 
 You ll stand for it all right, or you ll get the worst 
 trimming any man ever got who ran for Congress 
 out this way." 
 
 " That may be," said Marsh, keeping his tem 
 per, " but I tell you now once for all that I m go 
 ing to fight you on it." 
 
 " Fight and be damned 1 " screamed McManus. 
 " I ll break every bone in your body. I ll throw 
 you so far in the political discard you won t know 
 who s been elected president for four years after 
 it s happened. I ll put you on the dump with a 
 
 173
 
 i 7 4 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 lot of other smart Alecks who decided to fight 
 Bob McManus. Get the hell out of here and 
 make your fight, and see where you come out! 
 Gwan!" 
 
 Marsh walked out. He was angry, but he had 
 sense enough to do nothing until McManus had 
 shown his hand. He didn t want to spoil things 
 by announcing his opposition to something that 
 was yet undone. So he sat steady and waited for 
 the convention. 
 
 He had been elected a delegate to the conven 
 tion at his ward caucus. He had his credentials. 
 He was to have been permanent chairman, and he 
 had planned to make a speech about party unity, 
 harmony, the grand old organisation and such 
 necessary flubdub, and to see to it that the slate 
 was rushed through. 
 
 The convention was held in the opera house. 
 There were one hundred and ten delegates. A 
 contest had been framed against Marsh s delega 
 tion by the orders of McManus, but Marsh made 
 such a fight in the credentials committee and had 
 so much right on his side that the members of that 
 committee, which was an unusual one, inasmuch as 
 there never was any protest over delegations in 
 county conventions, forgot their orders and seated 
 Marsh and his colleagues and the contesting dele 
 gates also, with half a vote apiece. McManus 
 was frantic with rage, for this allowed Marsh a 
 seat in the convention. However, neither one had 
 said anything about the break, and McManus
 
 THE SPLIT WITH McMANUS 175 
 
 secretly felt that Marsh would back water at the 
 last moment. 
 
 Paxton encouraged Marsh with a wire telling 
 him to go ahead, and Marsh awaited develop 
 ments. The permanent organisation was per 
 fected with that smoothness of detail and 
 accuracy of movement that characterised all 
 of the conventions handled by McManus, who 
 sat glowering across the aisle at Marsh at 
 the head of his own ward delegation. The 
 delegates from the towns knew nothing of what 
 was imminent, and the Morganville delegates 
 barely sensed something wrong, but did not know 
 what it was. A county judge was named and 
 nominated by acclamation. 
 
 " Nominations for district-attorney are in or 
 der," piped the chairman, a creature of Mc 
 Manus. 
 
 Instantly, a big, red-faced lawyer, who was the 
 personal attorney of McManus, rushed to the 
 platform. The chairman rapped for order. 
 The red-faced man in a ten-minutes speech dwelt 
 upon the virtues of the person he had in mind, told 
 of his eminent qualifications for the great office of 
 district-attorney, his tremendous legal abilities, his 
 sterling honesty, his active citizenship, and wound 
 up with the words " and for this highly important 
 office, important to every citizen and taxpayer of 
 this county, I have the honour to propose the 
 name of the Honourable William B. Hoover, of 
 Morganville."
 
 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 Marsh had moved up toward the stage. After 
 the cheering had ceased McManus had ar 
 ranged a vociferous applause he walked to the 
 stairs. 
 
 As he was climbing the short flight of stairs the 
 chairman shouted: "Are there any other nom 
 inations? The chair hears none. Nominations 
 are closed. What is the pleasure of the conven 
 tion?" 
 
 " Mr. Chairman," yelled another McManus 
 follower, " I move that the Honourable William 
 B. Hoover be declared the nominee of this con 
 vention for the office of district-attorney." 
 
 " Second that," roared a dozen delegates. 
 
 "Mr. Chairman!" shouted Marsh, who was 
 then in the centre of the stage. " Mr. Chair 
 man ! " 
 
 The chairman ignored him. " It is moved and 
 seconded," he recited glibly, " that the Honour 
 able William B. Hoover be declared the nominee 
 of this convention for the office of district-attorney 
 of Greenfield County. All in favour say Aye. 
 
 There was a great volume of " Ayes." 
 
 " Opposed, No, " said the chairman. 
 
 "No!" yelled Marsh. 
 
 The ayes have it," declared the chairman, 
 " and the Honourable William B. Hoover is the 
 nominee. The next office to be filled is that of 
 county treasurer. Nominations are in order." 
 
 " Mr. Chairman! " shouted Marsh again. 
 
 " For what purpose does the gentleman rise? " 
 asked the chairman, regarding Marsh in a sur-
 
 THE SPLIT WITH McMANUS 177 
 
 prised manner, as if he were just at that moment 
 aware of his presence on the stage. 
 
 " I desire to protest against the nomination of 
 this thief, this crook " 
 
 " He s out of order! " screamed a delegate. 
 
 There came a great chorus of " Throw him 
 out!" "Regular order!" and Marsh, vainly 
 trying to make himself heard, subsided as he saw 
 nothing could be done. The chairman knew his 
 business. The ticket was quickly completed, ac 
 cording to the slate, and the convention adjourned, 
 with Marsh standing on the stage, angry, but feel 
 ing rather foolish for all that. 
 
 McManus grinned sardonically. " Go to it! " 
 he rasped, as Marsh walked out. "Go to it! 
 You ll never get back to Washington. I ll fix 
 you all right, and I m the man who can do it! " 
 
 The reporters for the two little afternoon 
 papers in Morganville came to Marsh s office, 
 and he gave them an interview protesting against 
 the nomination of Hoover. He declared Hoover 
 to be unworthy of the support of any honest man, 
 and demanded a public expression on the nomi 
 nation and another candidate, " in order," as he 
 said, " that the politics of our county shall no 
 longer be prostituted to the base desires of this 
 man McManus, who styles himself boss." The 
 papers printed the interview as news, but as they 
 were controlled by McManus editorially they in 
 dorsed Hoover. 
 
 There was great excitement. The question of 
 the fitness of Hoover for the district-attorneyship
 
 i 7 8 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 took precedence over all other topics in the county. 
 There was a mass meeting in the opera house, ar 
 ranged by the Civic Betterment League, at which 
 Marsh was the principal speaker. He was in 
 great form and made the best speech he had ever 
 made. He went into details as to the unfitness of 
 Hoover, scored McManus and his corrupt ma 
 chine, and demanded that the citizens of Morgan- 
 ville and Greenfield County should cleanse them 
 selves of this festering sore that fed on the body 
 politic. There was much enthusiasm. An inde 
 pendent candidate was selected, a bright, clean 
 young lawyer named Carver from one of the 
 country towns, who had no possible connection 
 with McManus, and the fight was bitter from the 
 start. 
 
 McManus sat until late every night in the back 
 room at his headquarters directing the campaign 
 for Hoover. He perfected his organisation, 
 looked carefully after the election machinery, 
 which he controlled, brought in as many repeaters 
 as he dared and lodged them in shacks by the 
 river, and spent money lavishly. He forced sev 
 eral men of good repute, who were under obliga 
 tions to him or about whom he had disconcerting 
 if not criminal knowledge, to go on the stump for 
 Hoover, but he kept that person discreetly in the 
 background. He used both afternoon papers. 
 The one morning paper in the town was anti- 
 McManus, and Marsh secured his publicity 
 through that. Marsh organised the campaign 
 for Carver, the independent candidate, worked
 
 THE SPLIT WITH McMANUS 179 
 
 night and day, made many speeches, and did not 
 go near his law office for weeks. 
 
 The good citizens of the county had rallied to 
 Marsh and he was praised on every hand for his 
 patriotic stand for pure politics. The city papers 
 sent down reporters, who wrote picturesque stories 
 about the fight of Marsh against boss rule, and a 
 week or so before the end of the campaign a 
 couple of political correspondents for Chicago 
 papers, whose editors had been attracted by the 
 clamour, dropped in and sent back a column or 
 two about the muss. They took Marsh s side, as 
 is the way with virtuous political correspondents, 
 they being always against boss rule, for opposition 
 creates copy, while support of the organisation 
 consists mostly in keeping things out of the papers 
 or putting things in that are not necessarily in line 
 with the facts. 
 
 The wisest political observers coincided in their 
 views that it was a case of nip-and-tuck. Tre 
 mendous efforts were made in the last week to 
 bring about a movement that should aid the inde 
 pendent candidate, but McManus held his forces 
 well in hand and claimed to be confident. Elec 
 tion day came with each side frightened. Nobody 
 knew what would happen, although Marsh felt 
 there was a strong underneath movement toward 
 his man. His own campaign had been practically 
 neglected. He made a few speeches, but things 
 looked well out in the district, where Senator Pax- 
 ton was on guard and was holding the regulars 
 in line, on the theory that this affair in Greenfield
 
 180 THE PRICE OE PLACE 
 
 County was merely a local muss and must not com 
 plicate the national situation or lose the party a 
 representative in Congress. McManus had or 
 dered his followers, not only in Greenfield County 
 but through the district, to vote for Marsh s Dem 
 ocratic opponent. 
 
 Word came from all parts of the county on 
 election day that the voting was heavy, and the 
 early returns that night showed the two candidates 
 for district-attorney to be running evenly. The 
 returns were delayed, owing to a new and com 
 plicated ballot law that had been in effect only a 
 short time, and at midnight it was seen that a hun 
 dred or two votes either way would decide the 
 contest. The two river wards of Morganville 
 were slow in sending in their returns. Marsh sus 
 pected trickery there and hurried men down to the 
 polling places. They found policemen on guard 
 at the doors, but Marsh s watchers were all inside 
 and attending to their duties. It was explained 
 that the reason the count was so slow in these 
 wards was because the election officials were 
 mostly foreigners it was the mill district and 
 lacked the requisite expertness to make a quick 
 count. 
 
 This didn t satisfy Marsh. The count from 
 these wards had been expert enough at former 
 elections, and the same election officials had been 
 put there by McManus, who held the election 
 machinery and dictated to every man who had to 
 do with the balloting except the Marsh watchers. 
 Marsh waited impatiently at his headquarters.
 
 THE SPLIT WITH McMANUS 
 
 Word trickled out of these polling places that the 
 two men were running about even. As the re 
 turns stood then, without these wards Marsh s 
 man had won by about eighty votes. The morn 
 ing paper went to press at two o clock claiming 
 the election of Marsh s candidate by a hundred, 
 and the unofficial returns from the slow wards 
 seemed to justify this report, from all Marsh 
 could hear. He waited, though impatient, sus 
 pecting fraud, but not knowing where it would 
 come,
 
 XVI 
 
 TREVELYAN s TROUSERS 
 
 EVERYBODY had gone home, except: 
 McManus and a few of his men at their 
 headquarters and Marsh and half a 
 dozen supporters at Marsh s headquar 
 ters. Although the returns from the river wards 
 were not yet officially known, it was conceded that 
 Marsh s candidate had won by approximately a 
 hundred votes. It seemed certain that the river 
 wards could not change this, for apparently accu 
 rate reports had been furnished by Marsh s watch 
 ers as to the count there and by the police. 
 
 Ernest Williams, the political reporter for the 
 Gazette, the morning paper, had been sent out for 
 a final round-up of the two headquarters to see if 
 he could get something late for an extra. As he 
 hurried up Main Street, which was deserted, he 
 saw a cab come pelting by, and he thought he rec 
 ognised Johnnie Trevelyan, city clerk and a strong 
 McManus man, in the cab. Williams ran after 
 it, and dodged discreetly into a doorway when the 
 cab stopped in front of the stairway that led up to 
 the McManus headquarters. Trevelyan got out. 
 Two men were with him. Williams recognised 
 the two men as McManus followers who held 
 
 182
 
 TREVELYAN S TROUSERS 183 
 
 small political jobs, one at the courthouse and one 
 in the city hall. They hurried up the stairway. 
 
 Williams waited in the doorway. Presently 
 the three men came down and Trevelyan got into 
 the carriage. The city hall was only two blocks 
 away. Williams stood and watched the cab drive 
 there, then saw Trevelyan get out and run into 
 the doorway. The street was well lighted, and 
 he recognised Trevelyan, not only because he had 
 seen him get into the cab, but because McManus 
 wore a light suit, he being an advanced dresser 
 according to Morganville standards. The other 
 men walked away. 
 
 Williams went upstairs. McManus was sit 
 ting at his desk. " Well, Bob," said Williams, 
 with the easy familiarity of the political reporter 
 in the small town who knows all the personages 
 intimately, " we licked you, didn t we? " 
 
 " Don t be so sure about that," said McManus. 
 " It s close, but I wouldn t make any bet if I were 
 you until we get the official count." 
 
 "What s that?" asked Williams sharply. 
 
 u I say it s close and it will take the official 
 count to tell." 
 
 " Can I use the phone? " asked Williams. 
 
 " Sure, go ahead." 
 
 Williams called up his city editor. " Say, 
 Charley," he said, " Bob McManus claims it will 
 take an official count to tell who s won for district- 
 attorney." 
 
 " Not on what we get from the city hall," 
 snapped back the city editor. " The returns are
 
 1 84 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 in from the river wards and they give it to Hoover 
 by a hundred and sixty-four." 
 
 Williams whistled. " Yes, that s what I said," 
 he repeated loudly. " Mr. McManus says it will 
 take an official count. I ll be down and write 
 something about it in a few minutes. And, oh, 
 Charley, is Dan Leary over at the hall yet? " 
 
 " He was a few minutes ago. He phoned 
 these returns in. Hustle if you re going to write 
 anything, for we ve got to make over and put this 
 thing in doubt in the extra on the face of these late 
 returns." 
 
 " Bye-bye, Bob," said Williams, lighting a cig 
 arette with much nonchalance. " It s been a 
 tough fight, but there s no hard feelings? " 
 
 " Not a bit in the world," McManus answered. 
 " Good-night, Ernie." 
 
 Williams walked slowly out of the door and 
 then took two jumps down the stairs. He rushed 
 over to the city hall. Dan Leary was just leaving. 
 
 " Dan," panted Williams, " how did those re 
 turns come in from the river wards? " 
 
 " Johnny Trevelyan brought them in. Said he 
 drove down and got them. Tired of waiting. 
 He s filed them with the rest of the bunch, and 
 Carrigan put them in the safe for the canvassing 
 board in the morning." 
 
 " Did you see them? " 
 
 " Sure; I copied my figures from them." 
 
 " How did they look?" 
 
 " Like any other returns, you mutfc. What s 
 biting you ? "
 
 TREVELYAN S TROUSERS 185 
 
 " Dan," said Williams excitedly, " you beat it 
 over to the office and tell Charley to hold 
 that extra until he hears from me. Beat it 
 now!" 
 
 Leary started away on a gallop. Williams ran 
 up the street and burst into Marsh s headquarters. 
 Marsh was discussing the victory with three or 
 four men who had been most active in the cam 
 paign. 
 
 "Mr. Marsh!" exclaimed Williams, " Mc- 
 Manus has flimmed you." 
 
 " Flimmed me? " said Marsh. " How? " 
 
 " I don t know how, but the official returns from 
 the river wards give the election to Hoover by a 
 hundred and sixty-four." 
 
 "What s that?" shouted Marsh. "Say that 
 again." 
 
 " I tell you the official returns, just In, give the 
 election to Hoover by a hundred and sixty-four, 
 and McManus claims that the official count will 
 show that Hoover is elected." 
 
 Williams then told his story, how he had seen 
 the cab drive up, how Trevelyan got out with two 
 McManus heelers, how they went up to Mc 
 Manus room, stayed a short time, and how 
 Trevelyan went to the city hall, bringing in the re 
 turns himself and filing them. 
 
 " Jake," said Marsh to a man who had been 
 watcher in one of the slow polling places, " are 
 you sure your ward gave Carver forty-seven? " 
 
 " Sure s I m alive. I saw it on the return sheet 
 myself, put down in black and white."
 
 1 86 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 "Where s Riordan? " shouted Marsh. "He 
 was in the other ward." 
 
 " He s over at the Dutchman s getting a sand 
 wich," Jake answered. 
 
 Marsh grabbed the telephone and called the 
 Dutchman s, which was a saloon with a lunch- 
 counter attachment. Riordan was summoned to 
 the telephone. 
 
 " Riordan, come over Here quick," shouted 
 Marsh. 
 
 Three minutes later Riordan puffed into the 
 room, his half-eaten cheese sandwich in his hand. 
 
 " Dan," questioned Marsh, " what did Carver 
 get in your ward? " 
 
 " Sixty-two majority." 
 
 " Are you sure? " 
 
 " I saw it myself on the return sheet just before 
 Johnnie Trevelyan came round to collect it and 
 save the boys the bother of a trip uptown." 
 
 " Now, then, Williams," commanded Marsh, 
 " tell me that story of yours again." 
 
 Williams related the incidents of the visit of 
 Trevelyan to McManus and the rest of it. 
 
 " Simple enough," said Marsh quietly, as Wil 
 liams finished his recital. " They shifted the 
 sheets on us up there in McManus office. Had 
 duplicates all prepared, forged a signature or two 
 probably, but put in new sheets with changed re 
 sults on them so Hoover would win, and filed the 
 bogus sheets. Plain as the nose on your face. 
 Ernie," he said, " call up the Gazette and tell 
 them to hold any extra they are getting out until
 
 TREVELYAN S TROUSERS 187 
 
 I can get down there. Come on, boys, this fight 
 isn t over yet." 
 
 Marsh went to the Gazette office and wrote a 
 statement, which was printed in big black type on 
 the first page of the extra, claiming gross frauds 
 on the part of McManus, charging specifically 
 that the returns had been altered in the office of 
 McManus, and calling on all good citizens of 
 Morganville and Greenfield County to join with 
 him to resist this outrage and put the perpetrators 
 of it in the penitentiary. He used the telephone 
 for an hour, summoned a number of his coworkers 
 out for consultation with him at his office, drank 
 a cup of coffee, bought himself some clean linen 
 in a haberdasher s store, was shaved; and at nine 
 o clock waited on Justice Limbert of the Supreme 
 Court of the state, who was holding court there. 
 He told his story to the judge and applied for a 
 temporary injunction restraining the canvassing 
 board from canvassing the returns, alleging gross 
 fraud, pending other proceedings. 
 
 Morganville was wildly excited over the news 
 in the Gazette extra. There was a meeting of 
 indignant protest at noon. Judge Limbert had 
 granted the temporary injunction for which Marsh 
 applied and set the hearing for Friday morning. 
 The afternoon papers, both McManus organs, 
 claimed Hoover s election carried statements from 
 McManus denying absolutely the story in the 
 Gazette, and calling Marsh a squealer, a traitor, 
 an ingrate and reading him out of public life. 
 
 That night there was another mass meeting.
 
 i88 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 The people were angry. McManus and his fol 
 lowers stolidly held there was no fraud, and 
 Johnnie Trevelyan asserted he did not bring up 
 the returns at all, that they came in by regular 
 messengers, and that he went over to the city hall 
 at three o clock in the morning to change his 
 trousers.
 
 XVII 
 
 THE STUPIDITY OF STROWLSKI 
 
 1 
 
 law provided that the ballots should 
 be destroyed after they had been 
 counted, the tally sheets filled out, the 
 returns certified regularly by the proper 
 polling-place officials. Therefore the question at 
 issue was whether the returns filed in the office of 
 the city clerk were the correct returns or fraudu 
 lent returns, and all there was to prove that was 
 the testimony of those who had been present dur 
 ing the process of counting. 
 
 The morning paper contended vigorously that 
 the returns had been fixed in the office of Mc- 
 Manus, that the real sheets containing the real 
 results in the polling for district-attorney had been 
 taken out and other sheets prepared beforehand 
 substituted, the complete return, under the law 
 of the time, consisting of a number of return 
 sheets, one for each office voted for, and all fas 
 tened together at the top by staples or pins. The 
 McManus followers, in the two afternoon papers, 
 scoffed at this idea as fantastic and the invention 
 of beaten and squealing soreheads. They said 
 the returns were regular, legal and accurate, and 
 that Hoover had won by one hundred and sixty- 
 
 189
 
 i 9 o THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 four. Marsh issued broadsides each morning, 
 and the Gazette printed extras during the day to 
 counteract the publications in the afternoon 
 papers. Marsh worked unceasingly until Friday 
 morning preparing his affidavits. His watchers 
 were certain the returns in the river wards, as com 
 pleted in the polling places, showed a majority 
 for Carver, Marsh s candidate, in each ward, 
 forty-seven in the fifth and sixty-two in the sixth. 
 McManus had his election officials in constant 
 consultation with him. He had engaged several 
 of the best lawyers in Morganville. Marsh was 
 to handle the case for his faction. 
 
 Morganville boiled. Meetings of protest were 
 held each day. The street corners were occupied 
 by arguing, gesticulating men, some upholding 
 Marsh s fraud contentions and some standing by 
 McManus. There were frequent fights. The 
 few policemen in Morganville knew everybody, of 
 course, and made no arrests when the McManus 
 men were getting the better of these encounters, 
 but as they owed their positions to McManus they 
 promptly arrested every Marsh man who had a 
 McManus man down and yelling for mercy, and 
 the police judge, also a McManus appointee, fined 
 the Marsh disturbers of the peace ten dollars for 
 the first offence and threatened jail for the second. 
 
 It was noticed that a good many men who 
 had been counted for McManus took no part 
 in the controversy. They had supported Hoover 
 under protest, under duress, indeed, for even the 
 most ardent of the McManus partisans admitted
 
 [THE STUPIDITY OF STROWLSKI 191 
 
 privately they thought the boss had gone too 
 far when he nominated Hoover. McManus had 
 put on every screw he could. He forced various 
 so-called leading citizens to uphold his contention, 
 because of financial or other obligations to him, 
 and he was in constant conference with his election 
 officials. 
 
 It is doubtful if McManus had more than two 
 hours sleep a night between the election and the 
 court hearing. He appeared before Judge Lim- 
 bert pale, his eyes deep sunk, his lips thin and 
 bloodless, but his cigar stuck jauntily out of the 
 corner of his mouth and his spirit seemed indomit 
 able. Marsh was in little better case. He felt 
 that on the evidence at hand he would lose, and 
 that the Hoover returns would be accepted. He 
 had ransacked the fifth and sixth wards, the river 
 wards, and had found proof that floaters brought 
 in by McManus had voted and that there had been 
 some repeating. Still, even if all the votes of the 
 floaters he had discovered and all the repeaters 
 who had managed to vote twice once in each 
 ward were thrown out, Hoover remained win 
 ner on the face of the returns. 
 
 It was his intention to show as much fraud as 
 he could, make the bold claim that the returns had 
 been altered in McManus office, and trust to pub 
 lic sentiment, which unmistakably was with him . 
 He examined the suspected sheets carefully. 
 They seemed regular in every way. He looked 
 for traces of erasure in the figure columns, and 
 there appeared to be none. It was a clever job,
 
 192 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 if it was a job, and he was convinced it was, for 
 his watchers held to their stories of the figures 
 that were on the returns they saw filled out in the 
 polling places, and he believed them. Marsh was 
 sure McManus had changed the sheets, and he 
 was forced to admit that the plot was ingeniously 
 planned and perfectly executed. 
 
 The courtroom was jammed. McManus had 
 half a dozen lawyers. The court attendants had 
 allowed McManus adherents in the room almost 
 to the exclusion of the Marsh partisans. Mc 
 Manus smiled sneeringly at Marsh and jeered at 
 him, but Marsh was not particularly concerned at 
 that, for he had won his own election to Congress 
 by a small majority, and he felt he had two years 
 ahead of him in which to continue the work of de 
 posing McManus, even if Hoover was declared 
 elected. 
 
 The proceedings were quiet and nonsensational. 
 Both sides submitted their affidavits and Judge 
 Limbert decided to hear oral testimony. Wit 
 nesses were called. They testified to the voting 
 of floaters, to the repeating done by these floaters 
 men not entitled to vote in Morganville who 
 had been brought in by McManus and colonised 
 in cheap shacks by the river for a sufficient time 
 to enable them to get on the polling lists. Marsh 
 put Riordan and Jake Spindler on the stand, and 
 both swore they had seen the original returns, 
 on which Carver had forty-seven majority in the 
 fifth ward and sixty-two in the sixth. These wit-
 
 THE STUPIDITY OF STROWLSKI 193 
 
 nesses were closely cross-questioned by the Mc- 
 Manus lawyers, but stuck to their stories. 
 
 Ernest Williams, the political reporter of the 
 Gazette, told what he had seen on the street, 
 how a carriage drove up and Trevelyan and two 
 others went upstairs to McManus headquarters, 
 and how Trevelyan left in about twenty minutes 
 and went to the city hall. Dan Leary, who was 
 copying returns that night for the Gazette at the 
 city hall, swore it was his impression that Trevel 
 yan brought in the returns at the time Williams 
 saw Trevelyan go to the city hall. Evidence was 
 introduced showing that the earlier police reports 
 
 unofficial, of course had given the two wards 
 to Carver, thus insuring his election. This com 
 pleted Marsh s case. 
 
 McManus men went on the stand one after the 
 other and swore glibly that the original figures 
 were as they appeared on the sheets filed at the 
 city hall. The police denied any voting by floaters 
 or repeating. Trevelyan admitted visiting the 
 two wards, but said he had gone merely to see if 
 it was possible to hurry up the returns, that the 
 messengers left a little before he arrived in the 
 fifth ward, and that his visit to McManus was to 
 tell the boss that the returns were all in. He said 
 
 swore rather that he went to the city hall to 
 change his trousers, as he had accidentally rubbed 
 against the hub of the carriage when getting out 
 of it in a hurry and had smeared his usually im 
 maculate pantaloons with axle grease, a condition
 
 I 9 4 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 which he, as a fastidious dresser, could not abide 
 even at three o clock in the morning on the de 
 serted streets of Morganville. 
 
 The McManus men were explicit and Marsh 
 could not budge one of them. He cross-examined 
 them, using all his skill, but with no results. They 
 doggedly hung to their stones that the original 
 returns showed substantial majorities for Hoover 
 in the two disputed wards. The last of the Mc 
 Manus election officials was a man named Strowl- 
 ski, a Pole, who was the McManus leader in the 
 sixth ward, where there was a considerable settle 
 ment of Strowlski s countrymen. He was ques 
 tioned by the McManus lawyers and testified 
 smoothly to his share in the counting and to what 
 the count showed. He had the figures by heart and 
 recited them almost before he was asked what 
 they were. Marsh took him in hand when the 
 McManus lawyer had finished, but questioned him 
 rather perfunctorily. Marsh was quite certain 
 he was beaten, and was already planning to take 
 the matter to another court in some other way. 
 Judge Limbert was much interested, and from 
 time to time questioned the witnesses himself on 
 some point he wanted cleared. 
 
 Marsh went over every detail of Strowlski s 
 evidence with that witness. He was just about to 
 dismiss him, and was arranging some papers on 
 his table, when he asked, almost without knowl 
 edge himself of what the question was, so great 
 was his preoccupation: " I suppose, Mr. Strowlski, 
 that you destroyed the ballots according to law."
 
 THE STUPIDITY OF STROWLSKI 195 
 
 " No ! " replied Strowlski. 
 
 " What! " shouted Marsh, jumping to his feet 
 with such haste that he overturned his. chair. 
 "You didn t destroy the ballots? " 
 
 "No!" 
 
 Instantly every McManus lawyer was on his 
 feet, protesting this was irrelevant and incon 
 sequential and had no bearing on the case, and 
 asking that the answers of the witness be stricken 
 from the record. 
 
 McManus started up, gesticulated wildly at 
 Strowlski, and that amiable person sat gazing in 
 amazement at the disturbance his innocent answer 
 had created. 
 
 Judge Limbert rapped for order. " The wit 
 ness may proceed," he said. " It seems to the 
 Court that his testimony is particularly relevant 
 at this point." 
 
 " What did you do with them? " asked Marsh, 
 trembling with excitement and walking close to the 
 witness-stand. 
 
 " Put them back in the box," Strowlski replied, 
 dazed at the attitude of McManus, who glared 
 at him malignantly. 
 
 There was a commotion near the door. John 
 nie Trevelyan was running down the aisle. Sev 
 eral McManus men were rushing to get out. 
 
 " Officers ! " ordered Judge Limbert sharply, 
 " you will close the doors and allow no one to go 
 out or enter until I give permission." 
 
 McManus sank back into his seat with a groan. 
 Marsh continued his questioning, speaking kindly
 
 196 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 to the witness, who was almost in collapse by this 
 time. He knew he had told something he should 
 not have told, but his slow brain hadn t yet com 
 prehended what it was. He looked pitifully at 
 McManus. The McManus lawyers were in ex 
 cited consultation. Marsh continued: 
 
 " You put the ballots back in the box? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "What box, Mr. Strowlski?" 
 
 The box we used the ballot box, you 
 know." 
 
 " Oh, yes, the ballot box. And what became 
 of the ballot box? " 
 
 " Next day, I suppose, they took it back to the 
 city hall where they store them. I don t know. 
 They always do come round after the boxes and 
 keep them in the city hall cellar." 
 
 " So far as you know, then, the sixth-ward 
 ballots are in the box and the box is in the cellar 
 of the city hall? " 
 
 11 Yes, sir." 
 
 Marsh turned in triumph to the judge : " If 
 the Court please," he said, " I think there has 
 come a providential admission into this case. If 
 these ballots were not destroyed and are still in 
 that ballot box in the cellar of the city hall, the 
 merits of this contention can easily be decided. I 
 suggest, Your Honour, that two men, one from 
 each side, be dispatched by the court to bring those 
 fifth and sixth ward ballots here, and that the 
 ballots be examined in this court." 
 
 " I shall so order," said the judge.
 
 THE STUPIDITY OF STROWLSKI 197 
 
 The McManus lawyers began passionate pro 
 tests. They contended the court had no jurisdic 
 tion in the matter, that the court was not an 
 election canvassing board, that the returns were 
 the only subject under consideration, that this was 
 entirely extraneous and irrelevant to the conten 
 tion, and that it couldn t be done legally or in any 
 other way. 
 
 Judge Limbert smiled grimly. " The proceed 
 ings will be suspended," he said, " until the ballot 
 boxes from the fifth and sixth wards are produced 
 in court. Is the city clerk here? " 
 
 Johnnie Trevelyan, who had been battling 
 vainly with the court attendants at the door, 
 turned sulkily and said: "Here, sir." 
 
 Then," said the judge, " I shall ask you, Mr. 
 City Clerk, to go with Mr. Whiteside for Mr. 
 Marsh, and Mr. Langley for Mr. McManus, to 
 the room where the ballot boxes are stored, ac 
 companied by two officers whom I shall detail, 
 allow them access to the room, and see to it that 
 the identical boxes, untampered with and locked, 
 are produced forthwith in this court." 
 
 Trevelyan looked despairingly at McManus, 
 who sat with his head bowed, chewing savagely 
 at an unlighted cigar. 
 
 " Go at once," ordered the judge emphatically. 
 Whiteside and Langley went out. Two court at 
 tendants and Johnnie Trevelyan trailed along be 
 hind. 
 
 The hearing will suspend, pending the arrival 
 of the ballot boxes," ordered the judge.
 
 i 9 8 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 Marsh s supporters crowded round him eagerly. 
 "What does it mean?" they asked. "What 
 does it mean? " 
 
 " It means," said Marsh reverently, " that God 
 moves in a mysterious way his wonders to per 
 form. It means that Bob McManus over there 
 is going to prison, and that this disreputable con 
 spiracy that has so long existed to control the 
 politics of this city and county is ended, smashed. 
 It means " 
 
 Marsh was intensely in earnest If the ballots 
 were in the box they would, he firmly believed, 
 show that Carver had carried the sixth ward and 
 that the presumption would be that he carried the 
 fifth ward also. He was jubiliant, and he walked 
 over to McManus and said : " I ve got you, Mc 
 Manus, and you know it! " 
 
 McManus made no reply. He was very pale. 
 His fingers twitched. His deep-sunk eyes burned. 
 His lawyers surrounded him and planned delay, 
 anything to save him. McManus paid no heed. 
 He sat with his head bowed and chewed at his 
 cigar. 
 
 Ten minutes later the court attendants carry 
 ing two ballot boxes, came in with Whiteside 
 and Langley. Johnny Trevelyan was not with 
 them. 
 
 The boxes were placed on the bench in front of 
 Judge Limbert. The McManus lawyers pro 
 tested the proceeding was extraordinary and ir 
 regular. 
 
 " That may be," said the judge, " but this is an
 
 THE STUPIDITY OF STROWLSKI 199 
 
 extraordinary situation. You may note an ex 
 ception, if you wish, but I shall proceed." 
 
 A long table was moved up in front to the 
 judge s bench. Whiteside was appointed a teller 
 for the Marsh side and Langley for the McManus 
 side. The fifth-ward box was opened first. It 
 was empty. 
 
 " You see, Your Honour," said a McManus 
 lawyer. " The whole thing is absurd." 
 
 " There s something in the other," Whiteside 
 whispered to Marsh. 
 
 " Open the other box ! " ordered the judge. 
 
 Every person in the courtroom, including the 
 judge, leaned forward eagerly, except Strowlski, 
 who had been forgotten. He sat dejectedly on 
 the witness-stand, looking pathetically now and 
 then at McManus. 
 
 The court attendant fumbled with the fasten 
 ings, lifted the lid, and Marsh, who was standing 
 just behind him, raised his hand high above his 
 head and shouted: "They re there! They re 
 there!" 
 
 " Order in the court," boomed the crier. 
 
 Every person in the room had been holding his 
 breath, and at Marsh s shout there came a 
 long-drawn "Ah-h-h!" Strowlski crouched and 
 shivered in his chair. He didn t know what he 
 had done, but he knew he had done something that 
 had injured the boss. 
 
 " Are the ballots in the box? " asked the judge. 
 
 Yes, Your Honour," answered the attendant. 
 
 " Turn them out on the table and let the count
 
 200 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 proceed. Officers, clear the space round the table 
 and allow no one to approach until the count is 
 finished." 
 
 The ballots made a little rumpled pile of paper. 
 They were creased and marked and dirty, but to 
 Marsh they looked like etchings done by a master. 
 
 The court stenographer was made clerk for the 
 tellers and took a long sheet of paper. He wrote 
 the names " Hoover " and " Carver " on the 
 paper, and sharpened a pencil preparatory to his 
 work. Whiteside and Langley examined each 
 ballot. As they finished the examination they an 
 nounced " One for Hoover " or " One for Car 
 ver," and the clerk made a mark in the proper 
 column. When he had four perpendicular marks 
 he drew the fifth mark slantingly across the four, 
 thus dividing the count into blocks of five. 
 
 There were seven hundred and ninety-two bal 
 lots in the box, and the count took a long time. 
 Few persons left the courtroom. Most of those 
 present kept tally themselves on backs of envelopes 
 and on scraps of paper. The count continued 
 evenly for two hours. It was very close. Then 
 Carver began to run ahead. 
 
 Finally Whiteside said: " The count is finished, 
 Your Honour." 
 
 "What do you find?" 
 
 " We find that William B. Hoover received 
 365 votes and Robert R. Carver received 427." 
 
 " Sixty-two majority! " shouted Marsh. 
 
 There was a wild yell from the Marsh adher-
 
 THE STUPIDITY OF STROWLSKI 201 
 
 ents, a yell of triumph and a yell of derision. Mc- 
 Manus sat motionless in his chair. 
 
 "Order in the court!" boomed the crier. 
 "Order in the court! " 
 
 Judge Limbert looked at Marsh. " Mr. 
 Marsh," he said, " the court has no doubt that 
 your contention has been upheld and will continue 
 the injunction until such time as you desire it 
 vacated. In the meantime, other remedial meas 
 ures will doubtless suggest themselves." 
 
 All Morganville knew of the result in half an 
 hour. There was a great impromptu meeting at 
 the opera house, at which Marsh made a speech, 
 earnest, but good-tempered, counselling immediate 
 action against the men who had tried to debauch 
 the election. In it he tentatively announced he 
 would assume the leadership of the Republican 
 party for the city and county and district. Wil 
 liam B. Hoover came out with a card in the after 
 noon newspapers saying he had no desire to con 
 tinue a contest for an office he had not fairly won 
 and disclaiming any participation in the frauds. 
 McManus had retired to his headquarters. Not 
 more than six of his former supporters followed 
 him there. Most of them were at the opera- 
 house meeting cheering for Marsh.
 
 XVIII 
 
 MRS. MARSH S DINNER 
 
 f~ "^HERE were enough men on the county 
 committee who were willing to depose 
 McManus as chairman to sign a call 
 
 -A- for a meeting, and the call was issued 
 and the meeting held. McManus was deposed 
 and Marsh elected in his stead. Marsh devoted 
 the next two weeks to perfecting his organisation. 
 A special grand jury was impanelled to consider 
 the election frauds, and at the suggestion of 
 Marsh enough delays were secured to postpone 
 action until after January first, when Carver came 
 into office as district attorney. 
 
 McManus was seen but little about the streets. 
 He remained at home. A few of his friends 
 were loyal to him, but not many. He was nervous, 
 irritable and depressed. His power was gone. 
 He had plenty of money, however, and his case 
 dragged through the courts for two years, when 
 he was fined, and left Morganville to live in 
 Southern California. Johnnie Trevelyan was not 
 heard of for several years. Then a Morganville 
 tourist discovered him working as a clerk in a hotel 
 in Portland, Oregon. He was still an advanced 
 dresser, but had changed his name to William P. 
 Jones. 
 
 203
 
 MRS. MARSH S DINNER 203 
 
 Mrs. Marsh had taken Dorothy to Washing 
 ton in September and had insisted on placing her 
 in a most fashionable institution for young ladies. 
 Marsh was so busy with his politics he did not 
 say much, and was not fully aware of the change 
 until he was notified that his daughter s expenses 
 would be more than double what they were the 
 year before. He was inclined to take the girl 
 out of school, but Mrs. Marsh protested so vig 
 orously, and proved so conclusively, to her think 
 ing at any rate, the change meant a great social 
 advance for all the Marshes, that he finally con 
 sented. Dorothy s desires were not considered 
 by Mrs. Marsh. 
 
 Marsh had little money ahead when he got back 
 to Washington. He had borrowed five thousand 
 dollars from Senator Paxton for his campaign ex 
 penses, and it had cost him all of that and a good 
 deal more to elect Carver and himself. There 
 had been some contributions, but not many, for 
 Morganville held Marsh to be well-to-do, so that 
 though they were anxious and eager to help him 
 with advice and counsel, and criticised freely, they 
 were not liberal with cash. Paxton said Marsh 
 need be in no hurry about returning the money he 
 owed, and apparently meant what he said, so 
 Marsh did not let his indebtedness to the senator 
 worry him. He did worry, though, about the in 
 creased expenses for his daughter s accomplish 
 ment and finishing, and about Mrs. Marsh s de 
 termination to have several new gowns, which,
 
 204 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 she said, she thought she might manage for eight 
 or nine hundred dollars or at most a thousand. 
 
 " Well, Jim," said Senator Paxton a few days 
 after Marsh returned to Washington, " the firm 
 of Paxton and Marsh starts out like a winner." 
 
 " Yes," Marsh replied, " it s all right politic 
 ally, but I want to tell you the junior partner in 
 the combination is no John D. Rockefeller finan 
 cially." 
 
 "Are you broke?" 
 
 " Broke is no name to it. I m smashed. I m 
 flatter than a flounder. My salary is in hock now 
 for as much as the disbursing officer will let me 
 have, and I ve got to find some cash pretty soon 
 or go into genteel bankruptcy." 
 
 "Is that so?" The senator seemed deeply 
 concerned. 
 
 " It s so-er than anything you know." 
 
 Senator Paxton pursed his lips, tapped with his 
 fingers on the edge of his desk. " Well," he said, 
 after a moment s thought, " maybe something will 
 turn up. Meantime I can let you have a thousand 
 or so if it will help you out." 
 
 Marsh took a check for a thousand dollars. 
 He hated himself when he took it, but he had to 
 have the money. He felt humiliated; but Paxton 
 made light of the affair, and told Marsh he was 
 sure there would be a financial opportunity before 
 the session was over, and not to bother about re 
 payment until it was easy. 
 
 The Marshes were at the same hotel where they 
 had stayed the previous year, the Dewilton. Mrs.
 
 MRS. MARSH S DINNER 205 
 
 Marsh had announced her arrival to the society 
 editors and was planning to resume her social 
 activities immediately. Inklings of the fight 
 Marsh had made and its dramatic ending had 
 trickled into Washington, and a correspondent 
 who knew Marsh had made a Sunday story of it 
 for his paper, with Marsh s picture two columns 
 wide. Marsh found he was somewhat of a per 
 sonage when Congress met, and was pleased to 
 note that the organisation leaders were affable and 
 agreeable and apparently knew he was a member. 
 He attended his committee meetings regularly, 
 and had a chance to make a speech that attracted 
 some attention. 
 
 " I see you are getting your name into the 
 papers," observed Senator Paxton one day when 
 he and Marsh were talking together. 
 
 "Oh, yes," yawned Marsh; "the reporters 
 pester me a good deal." 
 
 " Aha ! " said Paxton. " So that s your atti 
 tude, is it bothered by the reporters ! Well ! 
 Well ! That, I should say, is a crying shame. 
 There is only one other thing I can think of that 
 equals it for downright discomfort, and that is 
 not to be pestered by the reporters. Jim, you go 
 and take a long look at yourself in the glass. 
 You will observe a rather sturdy, good-looking 
 person, who owes about all he has got to the re 
 porters who are pestering him, as he says. If the 
 reporters hadn t mentioned you you would be back: 
 there in Morganville practising law. Don t for 
 Heaven s sake assume with me that pose of in-
 
 2o"6 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 difference to publicity. It may go with some of 
 the weak-minded ones, but never with me. 
 
 " Let me tell you something. The pose of in 
 difference to what the newspapers say about you 
 is the first and one of the greatest signs of that 
 political hypocrisy that is crystallised here in this 
 Washington outfit. There isn t a man in this 
 Congress or in this Government who is indiffer 
 ent to publicity, who doesn t yearn for pleasant 
 references to himself in the papers, who doesn t 
 read and reread everything complimentary that is 
 said about himself. It is the public boast of one 
 of the biggest men in the Senate that he cares 
 nothing for what the papers say about him, and 
 never reads them; but I know absolutely that each 
 clipping bureau in this country has standing or 
 ders from him to send him every item they can 
 find that has his name in it. 
 
 We affect to think we are hardened to criti 
 cism, and all the time we hate it, loathe it. We 
 smile in a superior way and say: Oh, well, the 
 boys have to have something to fill up with, when 
 ever they print a pleasant story about us, and pri 
 vately we gloat over the mention of our names. 
 Get off that pose, Jim ! Get all the publicity you 
 can. We need it. It is our staff of life. It 
 works two ways we love it and we fear it. In 
 the old days it was possible to do a good many 
 things we can t do now, because the reporters were 
 not so numerous and the news-distributing facili 
 ties not in the present perfected state. Now those 
 chaps are looking into everything, and you don t
 
 MRS. MARSH S DINNER 207 
 
 want to be pestered by them. You want to pester 
 them instead, or cultivate them rather, for they 
 can make you or they can mar you, and it s all in 
 the day s work with that crowd of enterprising 
 persons. 
 
 " Most public men take a wrong view of the 
 business of the reporter. They think the reporter 
 comes to them because he needs them. That isn t 
 it. The reporter comes to see a public man be 
 cause that is the way he makes his living. He 
 would much prefer to be having his own fun than 
 to be chasing after a statesman, who nine times 
 out of ten he has sized up to a gnat s heel as to 
 his intrinsic bogusness and his defects and desires. 
 The man who gets along with the highly essential 
 newspaper crowd isn t the man who patronises 
 them, which they resent, or the man who affects 
 to consider them of no consequence in his career, 
 but the man who meets them face to face, treats 
 them squarely, tells them the truth and doesn t 
 try to weigh them down with confidences. Re 
 porters don t want confidential information. 
 They want stuff they can print. They are wise. 
 Most of them were here when we came, and many 
 who are here now will be here when we go. They 
 know the game, and it is hard to deceive them. 
 All you ve got to do to be squarely treated is to 
 treat them squarely. They want no favours. 
 They don t hanker for your companionship. 
 Quit trying to fool yourself on this newspaper 
 business, Jim, and go out and play it straight. You 
 need all the publicity you can get, if you are square,
 
 208 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 and you don t need any if you are not square. 
 You can help the first and you can t stop the sec 
 ond kind. That s all there is to that." 
 
 Paxton walked over to Marsh and patted him 
 on the shoulder. " I ll bet you a box of cigars," 
 he said, " that although you are pestered by re 
 porters, you ve got a clipping of that Sunday story 
 with your picture at the top of it in your inside 
 pocket this minute." 
 
 Marsh blushed. He had. "Oh, well," he 
 said, u I didn t mean exactly what I said." 
 
 " Of course not, and be careful you never do 
 mean it. A public man without publicity becomes 
 a private man so quickly it makes his head swim." 
 
 Marsh thought a good deal about what the 
 senator had said, and was impressed when Mrs. 
 Marsh told him incidentally that she considered 
 the society columns in the newspapers to be the 
 greatest levers for social success in Washington. 
 
 " Certainly ! " commented Mrs. Lyster, who 
 was sitting with them in the hotel parlour when 
 Mrs. Marsh made this remark. " If there is to 
 be no mention of a function in the newspapers a 
 function might as well not be given. What ad 
 vantage is it to a hostess to w r ork and worry and 
 plan and scheme and intrigue to get distinguished 
 people to come to her dinners or to attend her 
 parties, unless the world knows she is able to 
 snare those distinguished personages? How can 
 she be repaid for all the expense and trouble and 
 the jealousy and the criticism and the social am-
 
 MRS. MARSH S DINNER 209 
 
 bitions that run counter to hers, except by having 
 the world know, through the kindly ministrations 
 of the society editors, that this hostess has at 
 tained sufficient position to drag these honoured 
 guests to her house? If the newspapers were to 
 abolish the society columns the number of social 
 affairs in this town would dwindle to nothing. 
 And that means every kind of social affair, from 
 the biggest down to the most modest, except, of 
 course, family dinner parties where real friends 
 are asked in. 
 
 " It is amusing to watch their efforts," con 
 tinued Mrs. Lyster. " One month I kept track 
 of the various paragraphs sent in by herself of 
 course about a young woman who is in what I 
 call the near-cabinet set, the wife of an assistant 
 secretary, you know. Well, in the thirty-one days 
 of that month there were exactly forty-two items 
 about that ambitious social leader, detailing her 
 every movement. If she expected a guest the ex 
 pectation was announced, then the arrival, then 
 the fact that the guest was there, then the pro 
 jected departure of the guest, then the actual de 
 parture, and then on the following Sunday a re 
 sume of the entire matter. And there are dozens 
 just like her. The society columns in the news 
 papers may be predicated on society, but more 
 than that, far more, is society predicated on the 
 society columns. We simply couldn t exist with 
 out those aids to our advancement." 
 
 Marsh looked at his wife and grinned. Mrs.
 
 210 THE PRICE OK PLACE 
 
 Marsh said nothing, but when they went upstairs 
 she remarked: "Curiously old-fashioned ideas 
 Mrs. Lyster has, don t you think? " 
 
 " Oh, I guess her views are open to argument," 
 Marsh replied. 
 
 " Well, James " she had decided she would 
 call her husband James, as better fitting the dig 
 nity of their advanced positions than the Jim of 
 former days " Well, James, I do not intend 
 to argue with you, and I think it is best for you 
 to know that we are giving a dinner in a fort 
 night." 
 
 " What kind of a dinner? " asked Marsh. 
 
 " Oh, a big dinner thirty or forty guests. I 
 have the invitation list ready." 
 
 " And where are we to hold this function, at 
 a dairy-lunch place?" 
 
 " We are not. It is to be given at Bangle s." 
 
 "Bangle s! Why, Bangle is the most expen 
 sive caterer in this town, and that means he s the 
 most expensive on earth." 
 
 " And the most fashionable," said Mrs. Marsh, 
 " which is precisely why our dinner is to be given 
 there." 
 
 " But, Molly, it will cost a heap of money." 
 
 " I don t care if it costs ten thousand dollars. 
 We re going to give the dinner and you ve got to 
 pay for it. I am going to take my proper place 
 in the society of this city. Heretofore all my 
 functions have been shoddy and second-rate. 
 Now I m going to splurge. I have prepared the 
 notices for the papers and sent them in, and the
 
 MRS. MARSH S DINNER 211 
 
 cards are being engraved, so you can t back 
 out." 
 
 Marsh made no reply, but he wondered where 
 the money was coming from. Mrs. Marsh spent 
 the next two days over her invitation lists. She 
 had carefully saved the cards of those who had 
 called on her and who were above the ordinary 
 congressional rank, and she sorted those cards 
 over and over. She planned for a dinner for 
 thirty persons and sent out invitations to the forty 
 most desirable persons, knowing some of them 
 would decline, and she had a second and even a 
 third list ready for emergencies. 
 
 Marsh couldn t stop the dinner, so he did what 
 he could to help it. He consulted with Mrs. 
 Marsh about her lists, and suggested some names, 
 including those of Quicksall and Rambo. The 
 invitations went out. In a day or two the re 
 sponses began to come in. Marsh returned to the 
 hotel on the third night and found Mrs. Marsh 
 crying. 
 
 " What s the matter, Molly?" he asked. 
 
 " Only six of the people we invited have ac 
 cepted," she announced tragically, " including 
 Mrs. Paxton for herself and the senator and your 
 friend Quicksall. The rest all politely regretted." 
 
 "The devil they did!" exclaimed Marsh, 
 "Well, what s to be done? Shall we give the 
 dinner to the Paxtons and Quicksall and the rest? 
 That would suit my financial condition." 
 
 " Oh," flared Mrs. Marsh, " you are always 
 talking about expense ! I should think you d find
 
 212 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 a way to get some money so your wife could take 
 her proper place here, considering all the friends 
 you have and all your influence." 
 
 "Well," Marsh spoke slowly, "what would 
 you have me do rob the treasury? " 
 
 "Don t be absurd!" she retorted. "Others 
 can make money here; why not you? " 
 
 Marsh said nothing more. Mrs. Marsh sent 
 out her second flight of invitations, had a dozen 
 acceptances and managed to get together a party 
 of twenty-four. To be sure she carefully included 
 the names of those " invited " in the announce 
 ment she sent to the newspapers, and in the notice 
 she sent in on the night of the dinner contented 
 herself with the line, " among those present were," 
 which included only the biggest ones instead of 
 the whole list. 
 
 It was a mixed company. Senator Paxton and 
 his wife were there, and an assistant secretary or 
 two, two Latin-American diplomats, a bureau 
 chief from the Treasury Department, an army 
 couple and the rest were representatives. The 
 dinner was a good one, correctly served, and the 
 party was jolly, for Mrs. Marsh had much tact, 
 and knew what to do to make people comfortable 
 at a function of this kind, even if some of the 
 materials were not up to the original standard 
 she had set. 
 
 Quicksall had walked up to Bangle s from his 
 hotel, and Marsh took him back in the carriage 
 he had hired, after leaving Mrs. Marsh at the 
 Dewilton,
 
 MRS. MARSH S DINNER 213 
 
 " Nice party," said Quicksall. 
 " Pretty good," Marsh replied; " but I m afraid 
 Mrs. Marsh is a bit disappointed." 
 "Why?" 
 " Some of the people she figured on couldn t 
 
 come. 
 
 <t 
 
 Oh, well," said Quicksall, " she ll get them 
 yet. She s going to win at this game, don t worry 
 about that." 
 
 Marsh made no comment. They rode in si 
 lence for a minute or two and then Quicksall 
 asked, quite irrelevantly, Marsh thought: 
 " Made any money lately? " 
 
 " Not much." 
 
 Want to go in on a little pool in copper? " 
 
 " Copper? " 
 
 Yes, there s going to be a movement pretty 
 soon, within the next ten days, in a copper stock 
 I know about. I can put you in for a few shares 
 if you like." 
 
 " The truth is, Quicksall," said Marsh, " I m 
 practically broke. That fight of mine out home 
 took about all my money." 
 
 " Oh," Quicksall replied, as if that were a mat 
 ter of no consequence, " I ll carry you for a chunk 
 of it, and if it loses we can settle afterward."
 
 XIX 
 
 HOOKED 
 
 DOROTHY MARSH was not a beau* 
 tiful girl, in the sense of having regu 
 lar features and perfect proportions, 
 but by the time she was nearing her 
 eighteenth birthday she had developed into a most 
 attractive one. She had the black hair and black 
 eyes of her father and her colouring was exquisite. 
 She was slender, graceful, animated and vivacious, 
 was fond of out-of-door things and clever at her 
 books. Good-humoured and sensible, like her 
 father, she was inclined to look on her mother s 
 social aspirations as rather a joke. Although she 
 had inherited Mrs. Marsh s taste for dress and 
 her tact in conversation, Dorothy did not share 
 her mother s social ambitions, and had little pa 
 tience with the endless and, as she thought, stupid 
 routine of Washington society. 
 
 Her incarceration for such she considered it 
 in the fashionable boarding school had been 
 quite against her wishes, but she tried to make the 
 best of it. So she entered into all the amusements 
 at the school, and studied only enough to main 
 tain herself in the fairly good graces of her 
 teachers. She solemnly went about her lessons 
 
 214
 
 HOOKED 215 
 
 in deportment, wherein the rigidly correct ladies 
 who had the girls in charge taught them how to 
 enter a room, how to leave a room, how to 
 sit, how to stand, how to behave at table, at 
 reception, in a receiving line, at a ball, how to 
 eat, how to sip their beverages from their glasses, 
 how to conduct themselves before their maids 
 in short, made perfect ladies out of them, fash 
 ioning them, as well as they were able, after the 
 accepted ladylike models of the day. Most of the 
 other girls in the school were daughters of 
 rich parents, and Mrs. Marsh had been obliged 
 to use much diplomacy and some influence to get 
 Dorothy enrolled, not that her position was not 
 as good as that of the daughter of the manufactur 
 ing millionaire, or the cotton-mill owner, but be 
 cause the Marsh family was not rated very high 
 financially. 
 
 One afternoon Marsh was called to the tele 
 phone at the Capitol. 
 
 " It s Dorothy," said a voice. 
 
 " Hello, daughter," Marsh replied. " What is 
 it?" 
 
 " Popsie, I want to have a talk with you." 
 
 " Come over to the hotel then." 
 
 " That wouldn t do. I want to have a talk 
 with just you." 
 
 " You mean you don t want mamma to be 
 round? " 
 
 " Yes, that s exactly what I mean. Will you 
 take me to dinner somewhere?" 
 
 " I can t very well without taking your mother.
 
 2 1 6 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 Let s see but how can you get away at 
 night?" 
 
 Marsh heard a little laugh at the end of the 
 wire. " Don t let that fuss you, popsie. Just 
 tell me where I can have a chat with you." 
 
 Marsh thought a minute. " What time can 
 you get out?" he asked. 
 
 " Half-past seven." 
 
 " Well, I ll try to arrange it and I ll call you 
 on the phone later." 
 
 Marsh called up the Dewilton and asked for 
 Mrs. Marsh. " What are you doing to-night, 
 my dear? " he inquired. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh said she had a club meeting to at 
 tend. 
 
 "And how long shall you be busy?" 
 
 Mrs. Marsh thought she would be home by ten 
 o clock, and asked why he wanted to know. 
 
 " Oh," Marsh lied glibly, " I have a conference 
 to-night and I wondered what your plans were. 
 That s all." 
 
 He rang off and sent a note to Dorothy, telling 
 her to be at the hotel at eight o clock. Mrs. 
 Marsh had gone to her club meeting by the time 
 Dorothy danced into the Marsh rooms, her face 
 aglow with excitement. "Isn t it a lark?" she 
 laughed. " Arranging a secret meeting with 
 one s own father. It s really quite romantic!" 
 
 Marsh kissed her. He was devoted to his vi 
 vacious daughter. 
 
 ;< What is it, Dodie? " he asked, using her baby 
 name. " But first tell me how you got out of that
 
 HOOKED 217 
 
 prison of yours? " He looked at her sternly and 
 then kissed her again. 
 
 " Promise never to tell?" 
 
 11 Never." 
 
 ;< Well, then, I came out by the back door." 
 
 " Came out by the back door? But how did 
 you get out of the back door? " 
 
 " I unlocked it, stupid, and walked out, walked 
 right out in the exact manner Miss Angeline Prim, 
 our deportment teacher, informs us is the proper 
 way for a perfect lady to leave a room. Like 
 this " and she gave her father an exaggerated 
 imitation of Miss Prim s correctest method of po 
 lite departure after a call is over. 
 
 Marsh laughed. "Still," he said, "that 
 doesn t explain how you got a key. I thought all 
 you young ladies were immured in that school ex 
 cept on state occasions, when your teachers or 
 chaperones take you out for the air." 
 
 " That s the secret that s the fatal secret. 
 Promise again you ll never tell, not even mamma." 
 
 " I promise! " 
 
 " Well," said Dorothy, reaching into her bag, 
 " here s the key." She produced a brass key, 
 which Marsh examined curiously. 
 
 " Where did you get it? " 
 
 " A girl let me take it. " 
 
 " Where did the girl get it? " 
 
 " That," laughed Dorothy, " is the real secret. 
 Popsie, you are now gazing on the greatest, the 
 most sacred, the most profound of the hidden 
 mysteries of Miss Capulet s Fashionable Semin-
 
 218 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 ary for the Training of Young Ladies of the 
 Better Classes. For twenty long and stylish and 
 exclusive years this key has been handed down 
 from one class to another. It is guarded 
 religiously. Only the elect know it exists. When 
 one set of girls graduates, is finished, those girls 
 give the key to the girls who are to be completed 
 the next year, and here it is, and here am I, being 
 one of the elect. But remember, you mustn t 
 tell." 
 
 Marsh promised again. Dorothy sat down. 
 " Seriously, papa, I just had to talk to you or 
 burst!" 
 
 "What s the matter?" 
 
 " Oh, I hate all this formality and social fool 
 ishness that they teach me as if I intended to 
 spend my life gliding gracefully into a drawing 
 room and gliding out again, after I have stood 
 gracefully about or sat gracefully down and risen 
 gracefully, and chatted with graceful animation 
 with the automatons who are gracefully disposed 
 round the room. I hate it. I want to go back 
 to Morganville and forget there is such a thing 
 as exclusive society, and that it is bad form to do 
 this perfectly natural thing, and worse form to be 
 oneself and not a parrot, parroting Miss Prim s 
 correct conversation for correct young ladies." 
 
 " But you know that s impossible." 
 
 " Why is it? I can go back and live with 
 grandma, where I can get out-of-doors and not be 
 worried about the width of my skirt or the proper 
 way to eat ice cream."
 
 HOOKED 219 
 
 " Pshaw, Dorothy, your mother wouldn t hear 
 of it for a moment." 
 
 " Can t you coax her, popsie? Can t you? " 
 
 "Coax her?" Marsh laughed. "No daugh 
 ter, I can t coax her, nor can I do anything ex 
 cept meekly bear my burdens along with you. 
 She wants to succeed socially, and I want her to, 
 of course. She intends you shall be a social suc 
 cess. This training is necessary, she says. It is 
 essential, she thinks. Mamma has great am 
 bitions, not only for herself but for you and for 
 me. We must help her, not hinder her." 
 
 " But, popsie, I hate it." 
 
 " Possibly you will feel differently about it when 
 you have been finished " Marsh laughed " by 
 Miss Capulet and her able assistants and are 
 out having your fling at it here in Washington." 
 
 " I never shall. It isn t real. It all seems like 
 a game." 
 
 That is exactly what it is, dear a game," he 
 said gravely. " And you and I are playing that 
 game, my girl; and we must play according to the 
 rules. You re dead right!" he exclaimed; "it s 
 all a game my part of it, your mother s part 
 of it, your part of it and the stakes are what? 
 Place; the right or the assumed right to consider 
 oneself a little better than one s neighbour, to have 
 a little more trumpery importance, to get a little 
 useless distinction according to standards that are 
 as artificial as the things measured by them. You 
 are right, Dorothy, it is a game; but unless we play 
 it we are played upon by it. Once we take a hand
 
 220 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 we must stay until somebody stronger defeats us, 
 and the whole of it depends on knowing how to 
 use those cards so we shall not be defeated but 
 shall defeat others, no matter what the conse 
 quences to the others may be. It s useless to pro 
 test, Dorothy. You are in this atmosphere and 
 so am I, and we must breathe this air, for there 
 is no other that will sustain us in the life of the 
 kind we have set out to lead. Come, I ll take you 
 back to school." 
 
 Marsh thought much about Dorothy s pro 
 test, and he was sorry for her, as indeed he was 
 at times sorry for himself, but he could see no 
 way out. He was in the game and he must stay 
 in, or confess failure and come to defeat. There 
 seemed to be some force behind him, invisible but 
 potent, pushing him into intimate relations with 
 men whom he had come to know as selfish, self- 
 seeking politicians, using the party and the country 
 and the people for their own ends, for their own 
 aggrandisement and their own perpetuation in 
 power, and he knew there was only one thing he 
 could do besides continue on as he was being di 
 rected he could revolt. He could declare his 
 independence. That would mean his political 
 ruin, and his career was very dear to him. 
 
 A day or two later he had a letter from Quick- 
 sail giving him the details of the copper pool. 
 There was a rich prospect in Arizona where the 
 workings had been kept secret. A big vein had 
 been struck, and the syndicate had bought twenty- 
 five thousand shares of the stock of the original
 
 HOOKED 221 
 
 company at two dollars a share. Marsh had been 
 put in for three thousand shares. The plan was 
 to make the announcement of the strike, fully veri 
 fied, for it was a real strike, and at the proper time 
 put the stock on the market. Options at two dol 
 lars a share had been taken on a block of fifty 
 thousand shares to be held in reserve. If the 
 mine was as good as it promised to be the stock 
 would be proportioned among the syndicate mem 
 bers to hold, but in any event Quicksall was sure 
 the announcement of the strike would send the 
 stock up some dollars a share and anticipated a 
 good turn, with the optioned stock In reserve, to 
 be sold, kept or turned back by a refusal to take 
 up the option when it expired in case circumstances 
 were not propitious. 
 
 Marsh watched the curb-market news carefully 
 for several days. Then one morning the New 
 York papers all had stories of the big strike in 
 the Marine Mine, and Quicksall telephoned to 
 Marsh that afternoon from New York the de 
 mand had been very active and the twenty- 
 five thousand shares had been sold at an average 
 profit of nine dollars a share. Next morning 
 Marsh received a letter from Quicksall inclosing 
 a cheque for $10,500, and notifying him that the 
 remainder of his profit, after deducting the $6,000 
 for the original payment of two dollars a share 
 for his three thousand shares, had been withheld 
 to take up the five thousand shares of the optioned 
 stock allotted to him, for which he would receive 
 certificates in due time. That meant Marsh had
 
 222 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 $10,500 in cash, that he owned five thousand 
 shares, bought for him at two dollars a share, 
 and worth on the market nine dollars a share, or 
 $45,000. The cheque for $10,500 instead of for 
 $11,000, Quicksall explained, meant that $500 
 had been deducted for Marsh s share of the ex 
 pense of the operation, and the commissions. 
 
 Marsh was dumfounded. He had no idea he 
 would make so much money or that Quicksall 
 would make so much money for him. Again he 
 was tortured by the why of it. Why had Quick 
 sall done this for him? What was back of it? 
 Why had they singled him out? He knew the 
 net was being thrown over him, and he couldn t 
 understand why they were taking such pains to 
 capture him. How could he be of benefit to 
 them? What was the reason? He sat for hours 
 trying to get a solution, and all the time the cheque 
 for $10,500 lay on the table before him, smiling 
 up at him, laughing joyously in his face and 
 he needed the money. 
 
 As he walked home that night, after a listless 
 day in the House, he met Rambo. 
 
 " Hello, Marsh," said Rambo cheerily, " did 
 you get a slice of that copper melon? " 
 
 " Yes," Marsh replied, " Quicksall let me have 
 some of the stock. Say, Rambo, why has Quick- 
 sail taken such a shine to me? " 
 
 " Oh," said Rambo lightly, " you re a good fel 
 low. Come on in and have a drink?" 
 
 Marsh lay awake for hours that night turning 
 the matter over in his mind. He considered all
 
 HOOKED 223 
 
 his relations with Quicksall. That friendly per 
 son had never asked him to do anything save dine 
 with him. He was far from a reasonable ex 
 planation when he fell asleep. At breakfast next 
 morning Mrs. Marsh gave him Dorothy s bill for 
 extras at Miss Capulet s seminary. It was for 
 $600 and covered only half the term. Marsh put 
 the cheque for $10,500 in the bank on his way up 
 to the Capitol. 
 
 Marsh found a note from the Speaker s secre 
 tary in his box in the House post-office, asking 
 him to drop in to the speaker s room that morning. 
 He went round about eleven o clock and was soon 
 admitted to the inner office. 
 
 " Hello, Marsh," greeted the speaker. " Glad 
 to see you. Sit down." 
 
 Marsh said he was equally glad to see the 
 speaker, and waited to hear why he had been sum 
 moned. 
 
 " Marsh," the speaker continued, " the boys 
 think you are just the man to defend the 
 Administration s reciprocity programme on the 
 floor." 
 
 " What s that? " asked Marsh. 
 
 " I say the boys have been talking the matter 
 over and have decided you are just the man to 
 make the big speech defending the Administra 
 tion s reciprocity policy on the floor. We must 
 have a smashing statement of our side of the 
 case for public consumption. We ve got the 
 votes, you know," and the speaker chuckled, " but 
 we need the excuse for them, and we think you
 
 224 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 can do it better than anybody. What do you 
 say?" 
 
 " But, Mr. Speaker," stammered Marsh, " I 
 j " 
 
 " Oh, hell," said the speaker, " I know what 
 you are thinking. You aren t quite in line with 
 it. Well, forget that, my son. It s a party pol 
 icy and it s an Administration measure. It s go 
 ing through whooping, but we want the country 
 to understand it. You are a Republican, and you 
 can take your stand as a loyal member of the 
 Grand Old Party." 
 
 " I ll think it over." 
 
 You don t have to think it over; decide now. 
 It s a big chance for you. It shows we have con 
 fidence in you, despite that youthful indiscretion 
 of yours when you jumped away from us on that 
 land bill a year or so ago. There are half a dozen 
 men who are aching to make this speech, which 
 will attract attention not only in every state in the 
 Union but abroad, and this is your opportunity. 
 How about it? " 
 
 " All right," consented Marsh, feeling tre 
 mendously flattered. " I ll do my best at it." 
 
 " Good boy," said the speaker, reaching over 
 and patting him on the arm. " Go to it. This 
 is Tuesday. Can you be ready on Friday after 
 noon? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Fine. It will come up about two o clock. 
 I ll see to it that all the boys are on hand to hear
 
 HOOKED 225] 
 
 you. By the way, seen our friend Quicksall 
 lately?" 
 
 " A few days ago," answered Marsh, looking 
 keenly at the speaker. 
 
 " Good boy, Quicksall; nice a fellow as I know. 
 His people are interested in this proposition." 
 
 Marsh felt tempted to refuse, but he walked 
 out. He was beginning to see things. Later in 
 the day Byron, with an afternoon paper in his 
 hand, came over and sat down beside Marsh, who 
 was listening to a Democratic attack on Repub 
 lican extravagance by a perfervid orator from 
 the South. 
 
 " Marsh," said Peyton, handing him the paper, 
 " I see they have hooked you." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " Why, it is announced in this paper you are 
 going to make the speech defending this rotten 
 reciprocity programme of the organisation." 
 
 "What of it?" Marsh asked, secretly feeling 
 that he had indeed been hooked, for he realised 
 the news had been given to the reporters as soon 
 as he had consented to speak. 
 
 " Oh, nothing, if you can t see it yourself," 
 Byron said, moving off. " Nothing at all, my 
 dear boy; only you started out right, and they ve 
 thrown a switch on you and run you in on their 
 particular sidetrack. More power to you, only 
 when the big bust-up comes don t say I didn t warn 
 you."
 
 XX 
 
 THE ATLAS LAND COMPANY 
 
 MARSH spent Wednesday and Thurs 
 day in retirement preparing his 
 speech. He knew he must make a 
 great speech, not only because his 
 own reputation was in the balance, but because 
 it seemed to him, after considering the situation 
 from every angle, his future lay with the or 
 ganisation, and he knew from what he had seen 
 and heard the organisation took good care of 
 its inner members. He argued that his selec 
 tion for this important action proved he was being 
 considered at any rate for membership, and he 
 knew the ordinary member, who was used merely 
 as a voting unit when the time came, had about 
 as many legislative functions as a sheep and re 
 sembled that docile animal in many particulars. 
 He decided he wouldn t be a sheep, and concluded 
 he might just as well forget his qualms of consci 
 ence and do as he was constantly advised to by 
 men who were eminently successful both in obtain 
 ing and keeping position and perquisites for them 
 selves, play the game. 
 
 Word had gone out that the majority members 
 should all be in their seats on the afternoon for 
 
 226
 
 THE ATLAS LAND COMPANY 227 
 
 the speech, and they were all there. The news 
 papers had printed paragraphs about the forth 
 coming defence of the Administration and had 
 given brief resumes of Marsh s career in Congress. 
 He was spoken of as an eloquent and forceful 
 orator, and that was enough to jam the galleries, 
 for Washington people love a show, especially 
 when it is free. Mrs. Marsh who was most be 
 comingly dressed, and a party of ladies from the 
 Dewilton had front seats in the reserved gallery. 
 Marsh looked up at her and smiled and waved 
 his hand, and a little description of this loving act 
 was included in the running stories of the event 
 the boys up in the press galleries were sending to 
 the wires, sheet by sheet. 
 
 Two o clock came. The regular order was de 
 manded by the majority leader. There was a 
 hush for a moment and everybody turned toward 
 Marsh, who had taken a seat on the center aisle. 
 His stenographer sat beside him with a great pile 
 of notes and reference books. Marsh was a man 
 of prodigious memory. It was his custom to 
 write a speech, read it once, and then talk with 
 out referring to the manuscript. He rarely 
 strayed away from his original text, but when he 
 did, it was merely to elaborate some point, and he 
 always came back to the words as he had written 
 and memorised them. He was fluent, graceful, 
 logical, and his voice was musical and had excel 
 lent carrying properties. He had put on his frock- 
 coat, wore a red carnation in his buttonhole and 
 was smiling and self-possessed.
 
 228 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 He rose and the chairman of the Committee of 
 the Whole recognised him. He spoke for two 
 hours, marshalling a great array of facts to show 
 the virtue of the Administration contention, mak 
 ing his plea logical and consecutive and demolish 
 ing the claims of the opposition with a volley of 
 eloquent denunciation. He ridiculed the Demo 
 crats, scoffed at those members of his own party 
 who were opposed to the measure, showed how 
 this was a great and historic party policy, quoted 
 figures to prove that it would benefit the people 
 to whom he referred frequently and with great 
 affection and concluded with a burst of elo 
 quence that brought cheers from the galleries. 
 Applause had been liberal. His colleagues lis 
 tened intently, and encouraged him by loud hand- 
 clapping. He was not interrupted many times by 
 questions, for his speech was so strong all wanted 
 to hear it and when he had finished, had passed 
 his hand for the last time over his hair and then 
 flung his arm out as if he were desirous of throw 
 ing away his fingers his favourite gesture 
 they surrounded him, congratulated him, patted 
 him on the back, and Marsh felt he had arrived. 
 The newspapers carried long stories about the 
 speech. Marsh was a figure in the House. 
 
 He read the reports of his speech eagerly and 
 was gratified to find the reporters had used a con 
 siderable amount of the advance copy he had 
 carefully sent to them and to the news agencies. 
 As he was deep in the New York papers next day 
 Senator Paxton walked into Marsh s room.
 
 THE ATLAS LAND COMPANY 229 
 
 " Ha, Jim," he said, " I observe that that little 
 subject of publicity seems to interest you. The 
 reporters didn t pester you any yesterday, I take 
 it." 
 
 Before Marsh could reply half a dozen mem 
 bers, whom he did not know save by sight, came 
 in and shook hands with him effusively, compli 
 menting him on the speech and talking as if they 
 were life-long friends of his. 
 
 Paxton laughed as they filed out. " There they 
 go," he said, " the reflected-glory boys, the chaps 
 who cannot do anything themselves, but seek to 
 get importance by attaching their colourless per 
 sonalities to the man who can do things. Wash 
 ington is full of them. They strut and sputter 
 and declaim roundly how My friend Marsh 
 said this or that to them, and how I said to my 
 friend Marsh, and thus and so, with the I in 
 every sentence. Poor chaps, they are only 
 twelfth-carbon-copies of the real thing and know 
 it, and they strive to elevate themselves by tacking 
 on to others. Vanity, Jim, all vanity the piti 
 ful, pitiable, but innumerable galaxy of reflected- 
 glory boys ! " 
 
 The senator laughed again. " I used to know 
 a very pompous newspaper correspondent here, 
 who made up with fake dignity and loud-voiced 
 opinions what he lacked in ability. He was a per 
 fect type of the reflected-glory boy. About twice 
 a week he would go over to the White House and 
 stand round for an hour or so until he got a 
 glimpse of the president. Then he would go back
 
 230 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 to his office and write a long slug of his own windy 
 ideas on political affairs, which always began: I 
 saw President Cleveland to-day, giving the im 
 pression that all the piffle he spun out came from 
 the president. And even his astute editors fell 
 for it, until old Grover put out a brief statement 
 one day saying he hadn t spoken to this chap for 
 six months, and that ended his little exaltation of 
 his negligible self." 
 
 " How d you like the speech?" asked Marsh. 
 
 " Bully ! It was a corker I I m glad you 
 made it, for you are in the swim now, which not 
 only adds to your personal and political increment, 
 but also does a heap for the flourishing firm of 
 Paxton and Marsh." 
 
 They discussed some political affairs out in the 
 home state, including several pressing matters, 
 talked over various candidates for postmaster- 
 ships, and decided to recommend one or two to 
 replace McManus men. As the senator was leav 
 ing, he said: 
 
 " By the way, Marsh, I ve put you down for a 
 few snares in the Atlas Land Company that s in 
 process of organisation." 
 
 " What s the Atlas Land Company? " 
 
 " Oh, some of us are going to do some opera 
 ting in real estate just outside the city. It might 
 be a good thing. I can fix it if you want in. Bet 
 ter take some." 
 
 " How much will it cost? " asked Marsh. 
 
 " Not much. The capital is $200,000, but 
 only a tenth of it is paid in. I ve put you down
 
 THE ATLAS LAND COMPANY 231 
 
 for a hundred shares, par a hundred dollars, and 
 you ll have to pay in only a thousand dollars at 
 the start." 
 
 " All right," said Marsh. 
 
 A few days later there came a request to the 
 District of Columbia Committee to allow one of 
 the street-car companies to extend its lines for a 
 few miles out one of the main streets. Nobody 
 objected, and the permission was whipped into 
 legislative shape and recommended. 
 
 Rambo met Marsh about a week later. 
 
 " What do you think of those hogs anyhow? " 
 he asked. " They bottle up a good thing, and 
 when it is ready to spill they grab it all themselves. 
 ,You and I should have had some of that." 
 
 "Some of what?" 
 
 " Why, some of that street-car extension 
 melon." 
 
 " How was there any melon-cutting in that? " 
 
 Rambo laughed. " Marsh," he said, " for a 
 gent who is playing in this game you have less con 
 ception of the value of your cards or of how to 
 play them than any man I know. Why, when that 
 extension is made of course the land out there will 
 be available for subdivision and can be unloaded 
 profitably. Nothing doing though. As soon as 
 I heard about it I hustled round to the real-estate 
 fellows to try to get a few acres of it at acre 
 prices, and I found a company has bought every 
 good acre there is." 
 
 "What company?" asked Marsh, with a sud 
 den sinking of the heart.
 
 2 3 2 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " Oh, a bunk organisation called the Atlas Land 
 Company. I don t know who is in it, but they 
 are wise all right." 
 
 Marsh went to see Senator Paxton. " Pax- 
 ton," he said, " I can t take that Atlas Company 
 stock." 
 
 Why not?" 
 
 " Because that company is directly interested 
 in the extension of that street-car line, and when 
 I voted on it I was voting contrary to law, because 
 I had a direct interest, too, as a stockholder." 
 
 " Pshaw! " the senator replied, laughing. " If 
 you will examine the records you will discover that 
 the Atlas Land Company didn t take over that 
 land until the extension was authorised by law." 
 
 " But," protested Marsh, " who sold the land 
 to the Atlas Company? " 
 
 " That," said Senator Paxton, " is another 
 story and not of concern in this discussion. I 
 figure we ll make a little money out of that, not 
 much, but enough to buy a few cigars." 
 
 Marsh went away. He argued with himself 
 it was all right. He knew in his heart that it 
 wasn t, but he was playing the game. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh talked with her husband that night 
 about money. She had heard many stories of 
 how representatives and senators make large fees 
 and she thought Marsh should have some of these. 
 
 " Besides," she said, " you have opportunities 
 for information that should be valuable to you 
 with all your influential friends." 
 
 "What kind of information?" asked Marsh.
 
 THE ATLAS LAND COMPANY 233 
 
 " Any kind," she replied vaguely. " I know 
 there are chances here to make money, and 
 that it is necessary for us to have more money 
 than you are making, as necessary for my social 
 success as well as for your political success. In 
 order to achieve what I am aiming for I must be 
 able to compete with other women who are en 
 gaged in aiding their husbands socially. I am as 
 economical as I can be, but I need money. My 
 plans are maturing. I can see my way clear to 
 success. But you must help me, not hinder me 
 by refusing to make the most of your opportuni 
 ties." 
 
 " Molly," said Marsh, " I am afraid you don t 
 understand." 
 
 " There is one thing I understand," she replied, 
 " and that is that if you have had informa 
 tion that helped you, and if you know at all 
 what is going on, you must have information and 
 influence that will help others. Besides, you are 
 a lawyer. Why can t you get retainers here? 
 There must be men who could use your services 
 if you would look round and find them instead of 
 devoting yourself all the time to that stupid con 
 gressional work." 
 
 " I have obligations I must respect," said 
 Marsh. 
 
 1 You have obligations to me that are fully as 
 great as any you owe to politics or party," she re 
 plied. And Marsh ma.de no reply.
 
 XXI 
 
 THE CLIMBER CLIMBS 
 
 MRS. MARSH had achieved a rather 
 notable success in her social cam 
 paign. She had devoted nearly 
 every waking hour to it, had assidu 
 ously cultivated those higher in position and with 
 greater wealth, had wept privately over rebuffs, 
 but had met them publicly with smiling face and 
 apparent indifference, had pruned and pruned 
 again her calling list, dropping an undesirable 
 from one end of it as soon as she was able to add 
 a desirable at the other. She made her calls regu 
 larly and studied the social fabric of Washington, 
 that is, the official social fabric, for residential 
 society in the Capital, except so far as it compre 
 hends a certain residential set that flocks with it 
 self, is but an adjunct to official society. 
 
 She had learned about rank early, and had 
 predicated her campaigns on the somewhat elastic 
 system of precedence, which, she found, could be 
 rigid enough on occasion. She knew the head 
 and centre of official society was the White 
 House, of course, and she had regularly left her 
 cards there, and had received not only the invita 
 tions to the big receptions, which were common 
 
 234
 
 THE CLIMBER CLIMBS 235 
 
 and came as a matter of course to her as wife of 
 a representative, but had been asked twice to 
 smaller functions given by the wife of the presi 
 dent, and had high hopes of being one of the select 
 party in the Blue Room at some notable event. 
 
 She had found the classification of the various 
 branches of the Government, in a social sense, to 
 be as old as the Government. After the White 
 House there came the ladies of the Supreme Court 
 of the United States, then the ladies of the 
 Cabinet, then the senatorial ladies and then the 
 congressional ladies, who had various degrees of 
 importance. Interlocked in a way was the near- 
 cabinet set, and also the wives of certain subordin 
 ate officials, such as commissioners and bureau 
 chiefs. Then, too, there was the army and navy 
 society and the diplomatic set. She discovered 
 many subdivisions in this, or cliques, rather, and 
 had not been long in ascertaining there was a 
 sharp demarcation in importance and prestige 
 between the European diplomatists and the diplo 
 matists from the Far East and the Latin-American 
 countries. The ambassadors of the great powers 
 were the leaders naturally, but second and even 
 third and fourth secretaries of the chancelleries 
 of Great Britain, France, Germany, Austria, 
 Russia and Italy considered themselves far supe 
 rior in a social way to ambassadors and ministers 
 from Latin-American countries, and, having made 
 the distinction themselves, were so considered by 
 aspiring hostesses. 
 
 Her four seasons in Washington had taught
 
 236 THE PRICE OF PUACE 
 
 her many things, the most important of which was 
 that there were scores of other women who were 
 engaged in the same warfare as herself, battling 
 to push themselves into the exclusive circles. She 
 early realised the advantage the socially ambitious 
 woman has when she comes to Washington, 
 through the rule that permits her to call first on 
 the older residents, either official or local, of the 
 city, instead of waiting for these experienced and 
 advanced persons to come to call on her. She 
 found she could call on anybody, and if she wanted 
 recognition she must go out and seek it herself and 
 not wait for recognition to come to her. By the 
 simple expedient of leaving her cards regularly 
 she was included in many invitation lists for gen 
 eral affairs, even at the embassies, and when her 
 husband began to get recognition in the House the 
 Marshes were asked to smaller and more exclusive 
 functions, especially after his reciprocity speech. 
 Word had gone out that Marsh had been taken 
 up by the organisation, and there were plenty of 
 people in official life who were quite willing, in 
 deed anxious, to cultivate the wife of a man who 
 was in the good graces of the organisation, and 
 most likely would come to be a part of it. 
 
 Her experience had taught her that the society 
 of Washington is not based on any desire for 
 human intercourse, but on a desire for influence. 
 Every person in Washington wants something and 
 almost every person in Washington wants every 
 thing. Hence the people to get on good terms 
 with are the people who may be useful in advanc-
 
 THE CLIMBER CLIMBS 237 
 
 ing social, political or other ambitions. She early 
 had a lesson as to this phase of it. She grew to 
 know the wife of an important man in the State 
 Department, the head of a bureau. This wife 
 had made her diplomatic calls for two years, leav 
 ing her cards and the cards of her husband, her 
 husband s cards having nothing on them but his 
 name. 
 
 One day in the third year the wife discovered, 
 when she was about to set out on her round of 
 diplomatic calls, she had none of her husband s 
 plain cards left, and she took a handful of his 
 official cards, bearing his name and the line: 
 " Department of State." She called as usual and 
 was received everywhere in the usual indifferent 
 fashion. No one remembered her. The hos 
 tesses didn t seem to care whether she stayed a 
 minute or an hour. But within a few days invita 
 tions began to shower in on them, invitations to 
 all the general functions and to some of the more 
 exclusive ones. That line " Department of 
 State," on the husband s card had worked the 
 change. The astute diplomatic hostesses had ob 
 served it, and they hurried to compliment a woman 
 whose husband, as they had found after her visit, 
 held an important place in the State Department. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh also had learned the value of titles. 
 She knew the distinction it gave a paragraph in 
 the social columns to have an under secretary or 
 two, who was a count or some other kind of a sprig 
 of nobility, included in the names of " Among 
 those invited." She had discovered that a repu-
 
 238 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 tation for good food and plenty of wine helps as 
 much as anything else. She had resolved to take 
 a house when she returned to Washington the fol 
 lowing season, for she considered herself on secure 
 enough footing to do some real climbing. So she 
 made her plans to that end, having in mind, of 
 course, the great ambition of her life, next to her 
 own success, which was to introduce Dorothy to 
 society as one of the buds of the forthcoming sea 
 son, and to marry her to some man whose money 
 and position would give her own and Dorothy s 
 careers added impetus. She had watched the 
 little, titled under secretaries, but decided neither 
 Dorothy nor her father would consent to a mar 
 riage merely for a decadent title, even if such 
 a marriage could be arranged, so she had rather 
 regretfully dismissed that idea from her mind, 
 and had planned to look about among the young 
 men of good family and of wealth. She had sev 
 eral desirable chaps in mind, and she assayed 
 them carefully, inquired into their social stand 
 ing and their fortunes, and finally selected four, 
 any one of whom she considered a suitable person 
 for an alliance with the house of Marsh. 
 
 Meantime her own evolution had been remark 
 able. She had made herself over practically and 
 was a charming and an attractive woman. She 
 was artificial, without much of heart or senti 
 ment, but she concealed that rather cleverly, and 
 was so vivacious, so clever, so up-to-the-minute 
 both in her gowns and in her information, that the 
 men liked to talk to her. She was a genius at
 
 THE CLIMBER CLIMBS 239 
 
 economies in luxury. She had discovered a stable, 
 kept by a man named Maxwell, where she could 
 obtain stylish carriages with an " M " on the door, 
 and she made an arrangement to have one of these 
 and a particular coachman, the best-looking one, 
 every time she went out, thus giving the impression 
 that it was her private carriage. 
 
 She had found how to get a hairdresser by the 
 month to come to her each morning, saving her 
 the bother of going to the hairdressing shops, and 
 she engaged this girl also at a monthly rate. Un 
 der her direction the hairdresser fashioned coif 
 fures for Mrs. Marsh that were the envy of her 
 friends as they were the admiration of her ac 
 quaintances. She engaged a maid who had a rudi 
 mentary knowledge of facial massage and the ap 
 plication of creams and lotions, and she taught her 
 how to manicure, for in the long years when she 
 had manicured her own nails Mrs. Marsh had be 
 come proficient at it. A skilled and competent 
 negro woman, who went out to private houses, 
 was engaged as her masseuse at a dollar a treat 
 ment; and her dressmaker was terrorised at her 
 definite knowledge of how she wanted her gowns 
 made, and driven to desperation by her exactions, 
 but careful to keep her patronage, for Mrs. 
 Marsh had become one of the most stylishly 
 gowned women in the city. 
 
 As soon as she heard of her husband s copper 
 windfall she went to New York and bought a set of 
 expensive furs, and she demanded a jewel or two to 
 supplement the rather mediocre rings and brooches
 
 2 4 o THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 that she had obtained in years past as birthday 
 and anniversary presents. She had other jewels 
 in mind, but she was content to wait, only she in 
 sisted on turning in a number of her smaller jewels 
 and supplementing the proceeds with as much 
 money as she could get in order to get one striking 
 diamond ornament, preferring one good jewel to 
 a number of inferior ones. She sent abroad for 
 a certain kind of imitation pearl she heard about, 
 and wore them at a function of importance, men 
 tioning in the note she sent to the society editors 
 that " Mrs. Marsh wore a magnificent pearl neck 
 lace." Everybody congratulated her on this beau 
 tiful ornament, although they said behind her back 
 it positively must be imitation. However, so were 
 all the pearls the carpers wore. 
 
 About this time automobiles began to be the 
 thing. Mrs. Marsh spent hours in finding an au 
 tomobile that would suit her purposes. She 
 finally ran down a young man who had a machine 
 with a crest on its door, and who was not averse 
 to renting both machine and crest, with a 
 chauffeur, for a reasonable price by the hour. 
 She paid half the cost of a new uniform for the 
 chauffeur, adopted the crest for her own, and peo 
 ple soon thought the automobile was hers and not 
 hired. She went through all the florists shops 
 until she found a little one on a side street where 
 the florist was glad enough to make rates for her 
 on promise of steady business. She insisted that 
 Marsh should cultivate the keeper of the botan 
 ical gardens and get what could be obtained there,
 
 THE CLIMBER CLIMBS 241; 
 
 for she came to know that one of the perquisites 
 of an influential member of Congress is the loan 
 of potted plants, ferns and other of the rare speci 
 mens grown in the old greenhouses near the Capi 
 tol. She discovered this one morning after a 
 coming-out party for the daughter of a Western 
 senator. She was a guest at the function, and 
 had observed the fine palms in the drawing-room 
 and envied them. Next morning she was driving 
 past this house and she saw men carrying out these 
 palms and placing them in a wagon, and on the 
 side of the wagon was painted: " U. S. Botani 
 cal Gardens." A few inquiries were made and 
 then Marsh, under her direction, demanded his 
 share of the ferns, palms and plants whenever 
 Mrs. Marsh needed any for her social affairs. 
 
 They gave a couple more dinners at Bangle s, 
 and these were much better, as to the class of 
 guests, than the first one they had given. The 
 old Bruxton Hotel set had been thrown in the dis 
 card, and there had been a process of elimination 
 at the Dewilton. Mrs. Marsh was cold-blooded 
 in her work of selection. She had no close 
 friends. Every woman she added to her list was 
 an improvement socially over the one she replaced. 
 She was much gratified to observe that the society 
 notes in the newspapers concerning her doings 
 came nearer the top of the column than they did 
 formerly, and her picture had been printed several 
 times. She was assiduous in her club duties, and 
 contrived to be named as a patroness for a fash 
 ionable benefit for a fashionable charity, which
 
 242 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 was a great thing, for her name was printed with 
 the names of many of the most exclusive women 
 of the city, albeit it cost Marsh a hundred dollars 
 for a box at the theatre where the benefit was held 
 and another hundred for various embellishments 
 Mrs. Marsh required. 
 
 Dorothy saw her father now and then, and was 
 progressing rapidly toward her completion as a 
 perfected specimen of Miss Capulet s idea of a 
 society young lady. Her commencement came in 
 May, when she was given a diploma that recited 
 that she had graduated with honours from Miss 
 Capulet s institution, was overwhelmed with 
 flowers, cried over by Mrs. Marsh and congratu 
 lated on her escape by her father. Congress was 
 still in session, so Dorothy came to the Dewilton 
 to stay a few weeks before going to Morganville 
 and to enjoy Washington, which at that season 
 of the year is the most beautiful city in the world. 
 She was glad the " finishing " process was over, 
 and she had maintained her point of view, not 
 withstanding the efforts of Miss Capulet and her 
 able assistants to make a fashionable automaton 
 out of her. 
 
 A few nights after Dorothy returned to the De 
 wilton Mrs. Marsh introduced the subject nearest 
 to her heart. They were sitting on a balcony that 
 was outside their room. The air was balmy and 
 the night perfect. Marsh was smoking, Dorothy 
 was looking down toward the Monument, which 
 towered, a shaft of silver in the moonlight, when 
 Mrs. Marsh began:
 
 THE CLIMBER CLIMBS 243 
 
 " Dorothy," she said, " I trust you have made 
 no plans for the summer." 
 
 ; Why, no, mother," the girl replied; " except 
 to go back to Morganville." 
 
 " We shall spend a very quiet summer," Mrs. 
 Marsh continued. 
 
 " Thank Heaven ! " said Marsh beneath his 
 breath. 
 
 Yes, we shall spend a very quiet summer rest 
 ing and preparing for social duties in the fall." 
 
 " Oh, mother," protested Dorothy; " you don t 
 intend to shove me into your society, do you? " 
 
 "Shove you?" replied Mrs. Marsh, annoyed. 
 " No, I do not intend to shove you; but I intend 
 that you shall be introduced in a manner that befits 
 your position." 
 
 " What s that? " asked Marsh. 
 
 " I said," repeated Mrs. Marsh, " it is my in 
 tention to bring Dorothy out in the fall." 
 
 "Bring her out of what?" Marsh frowned 
 as he asked the question. 
 
 " Bring her out into society. Introduce her 
 formally. She is eighteen now, her education is 
 completed and she must be introduced." 
 
 "Oh, mother!" protested Dorothy again, 
 reaching over and taking her father s hand. 
 "Must I?" 
 
 " I fail to see where the hardship exists. I 
 consider you very fortunate. This fall several 
 daughters of very well-known families are to be 
 brought out, and I hear that one of the daughters 
 of the president is to make her debut. Think of
 
 244 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 the advantage that will bring you ! Think of the 
 social eclat in coming out the same year as a presi 
 dent s daughter ! Why, you will be invited every 
 where. You will have the entree to the very best 
 houses. It is a wonderful opportunity." 
 
 " She can trail along with the big ones, eh?" 
 commented Marsh. " I can t see much in that." 
 
 " It doesn t make any difference whether you 
 can see much or little in it, James Marsh," Mrs. 
 Marsh replied, " for all my plans are made. 
 Why, I know two women in this city who have 
 held back their daughters one for a year and an 
 other for two years, so they might bring them 
 out next fall with the daughters of some of the 
 exclusive families. One poor girl is over twenty, 
 and she has been kept in school and in schoolgirl 
 frocks for two years waiting for this year. How 
 ever," she added complacently, " Dorothy is very 
 fortunate and so are we, James, for she need not 
 wait. The debutantes who come out next fall 
 will be very advantageous to us. It is an excep 
 tional opportunity." 
 
 " I still fail to see what difference it makes," 
 insisted Marsh. " Why must Dorothy be thrown 
 into this bogus game just because the daughter of 
 a president is coming out and the daughters of a 
 few of the important people? Doesn t she get 
 anywhere off her own? " 
 
 Mrs. Marsh shrugged her shoulders. " I am 
 not much interested in what you think of the mat 
 ter," she said. " The advantages are apparent 
 to me. In the first place I shall set Dorothy s
 
 THE CLIMBER CLIMBS 245 
 
 coming-out party early, and the invitation list will 
 include all the recognised smart girls who are com 
 ing out this year. Dorothy will be pictured in 
 the papers in company with the daughter of 
 the president and the daughters of the other 
 prominent families. She will be invited to 
 the houses of these people. She will have the 
 tremendous benefit of their social prestige. She 
 will be a bud in the same year with very fashion 
 able girls and for that reason come to be one of 
 thir set. These girls will come to our house " 
 
 To our house? " exclaimed Marsh. 
 
 " Yes," Mrs. Marsh repeated calmly, " to our 
 house. Of course now that Dorothy is of an age 
 to be introduced to society we shall take a house 
 and live as befits our position and the position she 
 will assume, instead of poked up in a common 
 hotel with a lot of common people. It is all de 
 cided. I have inspected several suitable places, 
 and we shall rent one, the lease to date from the 
 first of next October." 
 
 " How much will it cost? " asked Marsh. 
 
 " It is too early to talk of that. The great 
 question is to get the right house. I found one 
 place that I think will suit, where the rent is three 
 thousand dollars a season, furnished." 
 
 "Three thousand dollars a season!" Marsh 
 jumped from his chair. 
 
 " Sit down, James," said Mrs. Marsh. 
 " We ve got to have a house even if it costs four 
 thousand, so you might as well make up your mind 
 to it. Ever since I have been in this city I have
 
 246 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 slaved and toiled to advance you. I have now 
 arrived at a place where my efforts are beginning 
 to bear fruit. We are in a position to grasp a 
 wonderful opportunity. Think of our daughter 
 being introduced in society in the same year as a 
 president s daughter and the daughter of several 
 senators and two of the richest women in this city. 
 It will establish us. It will make us. It is all 
 settled. I shall rent a house before I leave Wash 
 ington." 
 
 Dorothy looked at the Monument, still silvery 
 in the moonlight. Her lip quivered and she 
 pressed her father s hand. Mrs. Marsh left the 
 balcony and went into the apartment. 
 
 " Poor Dodie," soothed her father. " But we 
 can t help it. It s a part of the game." 
 
 " Oh, father," pleaded Dorothy, " I want to go 
 back to Morganville and live there. I hate it all, 
 the sham, the mean plotting and scheming, the 
 falseness and the fraud of it. I want to live a 
 real life, among real people, not in this miserable, 
 artificial, intriguing place. I hate it! " 
 
 " Cheer up, dear," comforted her father. 
 " Maybe it will all come out right." 
 
 Later in the evening, after woebegone Dorothy 
 had gone to bed, Mrs. Marsh said to her husband : 
 
 " I cannot understand Dorothy s attitude. 
 She does not appreciate her advantages. She is 
 really a most fortunate girl. Not only will she 
 be introduced into society at a most propitious 
 time, but she is certain to meet some very desir 
 able young men."
 
 THE CLIMBER CLIMBS 247 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me," gasped Marsh, 
 " that you intend to carry this social bunk of yours 
 so far that you are deliberately planning to marry 
 that girl off for the sake of position? " 
 
 " I am thinking of you and Dorothy," replied 
 Mrs. Marsh.
 
 XXII 
 
 TOM DARLINGTON ENTERS 
 
 1 
 
 session was scheduled to end early 
 in July. Marsh s copper shares had 
 remained steady round nine dollars a 
 share for a time, and then had begun 
 to sag off from a quarter to half a point a day. 
 There were recoveries, but at the end of a few 
 weeks the shares were quoted at six dollars instead 
 of nine. Marsh talked to Quicksall about pros 
 pects. 
 
 " I m thinking of selling," said Quicksall. 
 " There s something wrong with that deal. I 
 haven t been able to find out just what, but I think 
 the big interests are jockeying to get the mine. 
 We haven t got enough of the stock to fight them 
 and there s a good profit in it. I think we d bet 
 ter take it." 
 
 Marsh had held his five thousand shares at 
 $45,000, and had considered himself worth that 
 much money; but the stock kept getting lower and 
 lower in price and a few days later he received a 
 wire from Quicksall, reading: " Advise you to un 
 load. I m selling mine." 
 
 Marsh told a local broker to sell, and he re 
 ceived an average of a little more than five dollars 
 
 248
 
 TOM DARLINGTON ENTERS 249 
 
 for his shares, getting in cash, when the transac 
 tion was completed, almost $25,000. 
 
 He took the broker s check and put it in his 
 bank. The banker greeted him cordially. 
 " Glad to see you, Mr. Marsh," he said, " I want 
 to have a talk with you presently on a business 
 matter." 
 
 After Marsh left, the banker went round to the 
 cage of the receiving teller and looked at the 
 cheque. " Doing a little something in the mar 
 ket," he commented. " He s almost ripe enough 
 to pick." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh and Dorothy went out to Morgan- 
 ville early in June, and Marsh followed soon after 
 the session closed. He found himself with $20,- 
 ooo in cash and facing a fight for re-election, for 
 the remnants of the McManus machine were 
 determined to defeat him if they could. Mc 
 Manus himself was broken and discredited, but 
 Marsh feared there might be enough of the old 
 organisation outside the new Marsh organisation 
 to give him trouble, and he had to look around 
 and see where he stood. Marsh had been careful 
 in his selection of such Federal offices as he could 
 get, had worked assiduously for pensions and the 
 establishment of rural-free-delivery routes, and 
 had secured a good many, had plastered the dis 
 trict with documents and buried it under seeds, 
 and was in excellent shape, so far as the bulk of 
 his party was concerned. 
 
 He paid no attention to the law; indeed his law 
 practice had dwindled until there was not much
 
 250 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 of it left. He still continued with a corpora 
 tion or two, and had a small retainer from 
 the general counsel of the railroad that ran 
 through Morganville, but that was about all. 
 Politics engrossed him completely. He began 
 work vigorously, strengthening his organisation 
 and making his plans for his campaign. Carver, 
 the new district attorney, was doing well, and the 
 election fraud cases were progressing slowly, but 
 helpful results were expected. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh was taking a rest cure. She 
 denied herself to everybody, remained in her room 
 most of the day, rarely appearing before dinner 
 time she had long before changed the dinner 
 hour in the Marsh household from noon to seven 
 o clock at night, much to the disgust of her serv 
 ants and had a masseuse and a nerve specialist 
 come down from the city twice a week. Her 
 former dressmaker solicited some of her custom, 
 but she languidly refused to consider any Mor 
 ganville artistes. Her old friends called, but 
 were informed that she was recuperating from her 
 arduous social duties in Washington. The local 
 papers had a paragraph each, contributed by Mrs. 
 Marsh, reciting her many triumphs, hinting at stil) 
 greater achievements, and stating that much as 
 Mrs. Marsh regretted it, she was compelled to 
 remain in strict seclusion to recover her strength 
 and fit herself for the coming season, when Miss 
 Dorothy Marsh, who had graduated at Miss 
 Capulet s Fashionable Seminary, was to be intro 
 duced to the most exclusive social set at the Cap-
 
 TOM DARLINGTON ENTERS 251 
 
 ital. The paragraph concluded with the state 
 ment that Miss Marsh was already hailed in 
 Washington as one of the most charming and at 
 tractive of the forthcoming buds. 
 
 Marsh had several talks with Mrs. Marsh on 
 the subject of Dorothy. He found his wife firm 
 in her determination to marry Dorothy to the 
 best possible social advantage. Marsh observed 
 with considerable satisfaction the rather fre 
 quent calls of a certain Thomas Darlington, a 
 young civil engineer of Morganville, who had 
 graduated at the University of Wisconsin and had 
 a good place with the railroad. Darlington was 
 a bright, well-bred, good-looking young chap, with 
 stuff in him, his superiors said, and he was devoted 
 to Dorothy. The seclusion of Mrs. Marsh 
 worked to the advantage of Darlington, and he 
 was careful not to be conspicuous when Mrs. 
 Marsh was about. He contrived to get a good 
 many afternoons off for picnics and boating ex 
 cursions with the young people who lived on the 
 hill, and on these occasions he was always Doro 
 thy s devoted attendant. 
 
 Although Dorothy did not care for society, she 
 quite naturally felt interested in coming out, and 
 thought often with a good deal of pleasure of the 
 receptions and teas and dances and other gaieties 
 that were ahead of her. She knew she would get 
 nowhere by protesting against her mother s plans, 
 and so decided to have what fun she could in 
 the coming season. At other times, when in one 
 of her more serious moods, she would rebel at
 
 252 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 the thought of wasting a whole winter on enjoy 
 ment, and plan vaguely to turn her life into useful 
 channels. Then Tom would come along and 
 take her out in his motor boat and she d forget 
 everything but him. 
 
 One afternoon late in August they were chug 
 ging down the river. Tom was running the 
 engine himself. He had his coat off and his 
 shirt-sleeves rolled up, showing a pair of muscular 
 tanned forearms. His hat was discarded, his 
 hair rumpled, and there was a smudge of black 
 on one cheek. Dorothy sat comfortably in the 
 rear of the boat, half reclining on the cushions. 
 She wore a white dress and looked fresh and 
 pretty. 
 
 Tom had been tinkering with his engine and 
 had said nothing for fifteen minutes. Dorothy 
 sat watching the sheen of the sun on the water, 
 the green of the banks that glided smoothly by, 
 the little waves that silvered off to ripples in the 
 wake of the boat, the swallows that dipped into 
 the water and shot up again, the widening circles 
 where a fish jumped for a fly, and the lazy clouds 
 that floated high above. 
 
 " Dorothy," said Tom, wiping his hands with 
 a bunch of cotton waste, and trying to make his 
 remark seem casual, " I suppose you will meet a 
 lot of fellows down there in Washington? " 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 " A lot of society dudes, I reckon, that will be 
 taking you out to dances and to shows, and send 
 ing you flowers and all that."
 
 TOM DARLINGTON ENTERS 253 
 
 " I suppose so," said Dorothy again, as if the 
 matter were one of supreme indifference to her. 
 
 "Damn them!" 
 
 "Why, Tom Darlington!" exclaimed Doro 
 thy, sitting bolt upright and looking at her 
 smudge-faced companion in amazement. " You 
 mustn t talk like that! " 
 
 Tom s face grew so red that even the smudge 
 was obscured. " I m sorry! " he said contritely. 
 " I didn t think. But," he added defiantly, 
 " that s what I mean just the same." 
 
 " What have the young men in Washington 
 done to you?" asked Dorothy, accepting the 
 apology and setting back in the cushions. 
 
 " Nothing yet." 
 
 "Well, then, what s the matter?" 
 
 " It isn t what they have done to me," Tom 
 burst out passionately, " it s what I m afraid they 
 will do to you." 
 
 Dorothy looked serenely unconscious of the 
 real meaning of this remark, and evinced a sudden 
 deep interest in a white house half hidden in 
 trees along the shore. 
 
 Tom was silent for a moment, then blurted out: 
 " You don t care for this social game, do you, 
 Dorothy?" 
 
 " I hate it." 
 
 " Then what are you going back to it for? " 
 
 Dorothy laughed. Will you please inform 
 me," she asked, " what else there is for me to do, 
 with my father in Congress and my mother trying 
 to be a social leader? "
 
 254 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " Chuck it," advised Tom, " and stay here." 
 
 " Don t be foolish, Tom. How can I? " 
 
 Tom Darlington was a young man of action. 
 He took a quick look at his engine, which was 
 purring along smoothly, shot a glance over the 
 bow of the boat to see there was nothing ahead, 
 made a wild dab at his trousers to wipe off any 
 remaining grease that might be on his hands, and 
 made one leap to the rear of the boat, landing 
 skilfully beside Dorothy, who had observed his 
 movements with wide-opened eyes. 
 
 " How can you? " he asked. " Easy enough! 
 Stay here and marry me. I love you," he stam 
 mered. " Oh, Dorothy, I m just crazy about 
 you ! You know I love you. You know it s real, 
 and not like any of that bogus stuff down there in 
 Washington. I I well, I just love you, 
 that s all," he concluded lamely. 
 
 For a young woman who was receiving her first 
 proposal Dorothy was most self-possessed. Her 
 heart fluttered a little, but she was outwardly 
 calm. 
 
 " Don t be foolish, Tom," she protested. 
 
 "Foolish!" he exclaimed. "What s foolish 
 about telling the sweetest girl in all the world that 
 I love her. Oh, Dorothy, please please 
 can t you love me a little? Won t you try? " 
 
 She gave no answer. " I think you d better 
 look after your engine," she suggested after a 
 pause. " It s skipping." 
 
 What Tom said about his engine need not be 
 recorded here. But by the time he had regulated
 
 TOM DARLINGTON ENTERS 255 
 
 it again he had two more smudges on his face, 
 his arms were blackened, his shirt showed signs 
 of the encounter, and he sulkily sat down beside 
 the engine and steered the boat home. 
 
 " Why don t you talk? " asked Dorothy. 
 
 " I ve said all I have to say," he replied, looking 
 straight ahead. 
 
 Dorothy made no comment, but her heart beat 
 rapidly and her eyes shone. As they came to the 
 dock she waited until he had the boat at its moor 
 ings, and then jumping out, she said: "I must 
 run along now, for it s about time for mother to 
 appear." She let one small hand rest for a mo 
 ment on the only clean spot on Tom s arm. 
 " Don t you worry about those Washington men," 
 she smiled up at him; "they re not worth it." 
 Then she ran gracefully up the street. Two hours 
 later Tom Darlington was still sitting where she 
 had left him, his legs dangling over the side of 
 the dock, dreaming the dreams of youth and love, 
 while the motorboat rocked gently with the little 
 waves.
 
 XXIII 
 
 IN SIGHT OF A TOGA 
 
 f ^HE opposition to Marsh was not effec 
 tive. It was unorganised, for Mc- 
 Manus could do nothing but hate and 
 
 JL. could not convert that hate into votes, 
 and Senator Paxton went into the district and 
 used his influence. Marsh had enhanced his 
 reputation greatly by his Reciprocity speech and 
 by his fight on McManus. He controlled the 
 congressional convention easily, was nominated 
 on the first ballot, and in his acceptance conse 
 crated himself anew to the great cause of the 
 common people. 
 
 His convention was held early in September. 
 Even then Mrs. Marsh was preparing to go back 
 to Washington, for she desired to take her house 
 on October first, and it was essential that she 
 should get everything moving smoothly before 
 she introduced Dorothy to society. She had in 
 formed herself, and learned the proper time 
 for that important function was the latter part 
 of November, in order that the girl s season might 
 be as long as possible and because the best families 
 always brought their daughters out at that time. 
 She did not definitely decide upon a date. That 
 
 256
 
 IN SIGHT OF A TOGA 257 
 
 must be held open and be subject to the dates 
 selected for the other girls. It was true that the 
 daughter of the president was to come out that 
 fall, and Mrs. Marsh had another reason for get 
 ting back to Washington as soon as possible. 
 She knew the absolute necessity of seeing the 
 society editors and photographers and of making 
 arrangements to have Dorothy s picture appear 
 together with those of the most prominent de 
 butantes. It took tact and much work and an 
 expert knowledge of conditions to bring this about, 
 and she would consider her campaign a failure if 
 Dorothy were not presented as one of the most 
 exclusive of all the exclusive buds to be brought 
 out that fall. 
 
 Dorothy was a passive participant in these prep 
 arations. She had tried to manage things so 
 she should not be left alone with Tom Darlington, 
 but that young man had on several occasions 
 found an opportunity to tell her again of his love 
 for her. Although he had no satisfactory answer 
 from Dorothy he drew considera-ble comfort from 
 the memory of that time on the dock when she 
 had touched his arm. He could close his eyes 
 and still feel the pressure of her cool, slim fingers. 
 He walked about as though in a dream, and was 
 sharply reprimanded several times by the engineer 
 under whom he was working for writing the word 
 " Dorothy " into his specifications for culverts and 
 small bridges. At one moment he was assuming 
 little airs of proprietorship toward Dorothy, and 
 the next he was torn with jealousy because she
 
 258 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 had chanced to speak to or even look at some 
 other young man. 
 
 Finally the day for the departure came. Mrs. 
 Marsh had suddenly recovered her energy. She 
 had everybody in a turmoil of arrangement and 
 directed affairs with a masterly composure. Tom 
 Darlington hung round. When her mother 
 asked about him Dorothy explained he was only 
 one of the boys of the town who wanted to say 
 good-bye. Mrs. Marsh eyed Tom sharply and 
 had her suspicions, but that young man main 
 tained a most discreet demeanour when in her 
 presence. He had planned to have another talk 
 with Dorothy before she left and to lay his heart 
 at her feet, and he had spent several nights 
 thinking out what he should say to her. In the 
 end it was Dorothy who gave him his opportun 
 ity. Half an hour before the Marshes were to 
 start for the train, Dorothy, with an air of uncon 
 cern, made some pretext for going out into the 
 garden, beckoning him with an almost impercepti 
 ble motion of her head, to follow her. 
 
 He found her in the little summer house. She 
 was dressed in a grey travelling suit, and appeared 
 perfectly composed, though her heart was beat 
 ing wildly. Tom started impetuously toward her, 
 his declaration on his lips, but when he saw her 
 standing there so cool, so calm, his brain refused 
 to work. He stammered, stuttered, forgot what 
 he had to say, his face scarlet, his hands clasping 
 and unclasping nervously. 
 
 " Dorothy," he finally managed to get out, " I
 
 IN SIGHT OF A TOGA 259 
 
 I Oh, Dorothy, don t forget what you said 
 on the dock that day." 
 
 Then he collapsed. Not another word would 
 come. Dorothy laughed, and started up the path 
 toward the house, and as she went she called back 
 over her shoulder: " Don t you forget it either." 
 
 Marsh was elected easily. Enough Democrats 
 voted for him to overcome the McManus oppo 
 sition. Mrs. Marsh wrote that she was in the 
 house, which was in a fashionable neighbourhood, 
 near Sheridan Circle, and surrounded by the 
 palaces of the millionaires who came to Wash 
 ington to get into society. It is easier to get 
 into Washington society if you have money than 
 into the society of any other place whatsoever. 
 The preparations for Dorothy s coming out were 
 progressing. Mrs. Marsh had engaged a butler. 
 She was ordering new gowns for herself and for 
 Dorothy. The city was beautiful and the fash 
 ionable people were coming back. 
 
 Dorothy also wrote to her father: 
 
 "Dear Popsie: I am able to report much 
 " progress in the great enterprise of introducing 
 " me into society. We have a house, with an 
 " English basement and a drawing room, and a 
 " dining room that has so much Sheffield plate in 
 " it it looks like an auction store, and an English 
 " butler to go with the English basement. 
 " Mamma has had the crest of that automobile 
 " she used to hire engraved on her notepaper,
 
 2 6o THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " and I spent most of my waking hours at dress- 
 " makers or milliners or shoemakers, until I feel 
 " that I am intimately acquainted with all the 
 " tradespeople in the city. Our butler is very cor- 
 " rect and dignified, and has side whiskers. I 
 " have an idea he doesn t quite approve of us. 
 
 " Mamma and I have joined the most fashiona- 
 " ble church in town. She said it took much in- 
 " fluence to get a pew in it, and she considers it 
 " a great triumph. Her pew costs two hundred 
 " dollars a year, and it is only a part of a pew at 
 " that. Of course we are not Episcopalians, and 
 " it s an Episcopalian church; but mamma says that 
 " makes no difference. It isn t the creed that 
 " counts, she says, but the spirit in which our de- 
 " votions are approached. I heard the butler 
 " tell the cook that he was glad we had decided 
 " to identify ourselves with a church that was 
 " patronised by the fashionable people. It 
 " helped him maintain his position, he said. 
 
 " My party will be the last week in November. 
 " The president s daughter s party is the same 
 " week. Mamma has invited her and all her 
 " friends, and she can hardly wait to know whether 
 " they will accept. She took me over to the pho- 
 " tographer s yesterday and I was photographed 
 " forty times. I had all my dresses there, and I 
 " dressed up and posed and then dressed up and 
 " posed again. It was very exciting. Won t you 
 " be proud of me when you see my picture in 
 " the paper along with the president s daughter
 
 IN SIGHT OF A TOGA 261 
 
 " and the daughter of the richest woman in Wash- 
 " ington. 
 
 " There was talk that the president s daughter 
 " was ill and wouldn t come out this fall, and 
 " mamma nearly had a fit. She even went so far 
 " as to open negotiations with Miss Capulet to 
 " have me go back to school for another term. 
 " However, the girl is well again and is coming 
 " out, so mamma has decided to let society claim 
 " me after all. It is our social duty, she says. 
 " Dutifully and lovingly, 
 
 " DOROTHY." 
 
 A few days after election Senator Paxton tele 
 graphed Marsh to come over to see him. Marsh 
 went that night, and drove from the station out 
 to the Paxton house. 
 
 " Jim," said the senator, after they had shaken 
 hands, "what are your plans?" 
 
 " Why," Marsh replied, " I m going to clean 
 up out here and go back to Washington in a 
 week or so. Mrs. Marsh has taken a house and 
 Dorothy is to be introduced to society in a few 
 weeks. I suppose I ll have to help pull that off." 
 
 " I suppose so, but that isn t important." 
 
 " Isn t important?" said Marsh. "Why, my 
 dear senator, it is the most important thing in 
 the world, according to Mrs. Marsh." 
 
 " Come to think it over, I suppose it is from 
 her viewpoint," commented Paxton. " Isn t it 
 amazing how hard society hits some people?
 
 262 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 We seem to have it harder in Washington than 
 anywhere else, but I suppose in reality it s the 
 same everywhere, only down in Washington the 
 game is easier and the rewards quicker than else 
 where. I ve known people to come into Wash 
 ington, Jim, with not a thing in the world to 
 recommend them save the possession of a few 
 million dollars, or maybe only one, and build a 
 big house, and after judicious training and coach 
 ing develop into the great social leaders of that 
 place. I ve seen them come in so raw the man 
 didn t know whether a red tie or a blue one went 
 with a dress-suit, and the woman unable to get 
 into a carriage without stepping on her dress, 
 and in three or four years become such swells it 
 made your head ache. 
 
 " Several clever women who know the game 
 have made good things down there coaching in 
 the proprieties our newly rich and newly landed in 
 Washington. I recall one man who made his 
 money in the West. He spoke with a brogue, 
 had hands as big as hams from working as a 
 labourer, and ate in his shirt-sleeves and with his 
 knife. They took him and polished him and re 
 fined him and manicured him and taught him the 
 language, and, by George, in four brief years 
 you d have thought he was born to it. Only he 
 had one great grief they couldn t find any way 
 to reduce the size of those hams of hands or those 
 big feet of his, and when he got interested he 
 lapsed back into the brogue. And they took his
 
 IN SIGHT OF A TOGA 263 
 
 wife and taught her to dance and to walk and to 
 eat and to sleep and to bathe and to stand up and 
 to sit down, and they enameled her, and pruned 
 her where she needed pruning, and padded her 
 where she needed padding, and painted her. To 
 day she s one of our social lights and the leader 
 of the exclusive set. And more power to her, for 
 she had the stuff in her or she wouldn t have been 
 able to get it over. 
 
 " It s funny," continued Paxton, puffing at his 
 cigar, " that we all strive constantly to prove we 
 are better than our fellows by associating with 
 fewer of them. What we desire is that exclu 
 sive position that enables us to look down on the 
 rest of the world as a trifle better than they are, 
 because we can do something they can t do, or go 
 somewhere they can t go, or speak to somebody 
 they can t speak to, or feed somebody they can t 
 feed. Imagine, for example, a group of men 
 getting together, organising themselves into a 
 club and hiring a house, or building one, and sit 
 ting in the windows of that house and looking 
 out at a man who passes by, and saying to them 
 selves : We are better than you are, sir, be 
 cause we can come in here and you can t. And 
 it is the same with this social game. It all is 
 predicated on the proposition that some people 
 can go where others can t and that s right enough, 
 I suppose, only why in God s name should we take 
 it so seriously, when there are big books to read, 
 and big pictures to see, and music to hear, and the
 
 264 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 great out-of-doors to enjoy, to say nothing of the 
 rather pressing needs of our fellowman to attend 
 to? But that isn t what I wanted to say." 
 
 Paxton looked keenly at Marsh, who was sit 
 ting in a big leather chair staring out of the win 
 dow into the dark. " Jim," he said, " how d you 
 like to be senator? " 
 
 " What? " shouted Marsh, jumping up. " Say 
 that again? " 
 
 " How d you like to be senator? " 
 
 Marsh looked incredulously at Paxton. " Quit 
 joking," he said. 
 
 " I m not joking. How would you like to be 
 senator? " 
 
 " I d like it better than anything else on this 
 earth, except to be president, and I don t know 
 but I d like it better than that. But what do you 
 mean? Isn t Rogers going to be a candidate for 
 re-election? " 
 
 " I understand he is. * 
 
 "Then where do I come in?" 
 
 " That s what I want to talk with you about. 
 Rogers has been in the Senate for twelve years 
 and he hasn t made a dent. He s been regular 
 but colourless. He voted right in the main, but 
 he has no force and he s getting old. He wants 
 to stay there. Every man who gets there wants 
 to stay there, so there s nothing remarkable in 
 that; but I have been talking it over with the boys, 
 and they all think we need a younger man there 
 and they all think you are that man." 
 
 Marsh grew pale and then red. He felt his
 
 IN SIGHT OF A TOGA 265 
 
 heart thumping. He was flushed, but a cold 
 sweat broke out on his forehead. He tried to 
 walk across the room, but his knees bent under 
 him. Senator! James Marsh senator! It was 
 the realisation of his fondest dream. 
 
 "But what about Rogers?" 
 
 " We ve got to beat him." 
 
 That s not so easy." 
 
 " I know it isn t. He is a good politician and 
 he has a lot of friends. However, some things 
 can be done as well as others. Do you want to 
 take a chance? " 
 
 Marsh s heart urged him to say yes. His brain 
 bade him be cautious. 
 
 "What do you mean by taking a chance?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " Exactly what I said. If you want to get into 
 it we will get behind you and we will beat Rogers 
 if we can. We ve got to start right now, for the 
 legislature meets early in January. Rogers has 
 been so sure of re-election that he hasn t made any 
 special canvass, so we ve got an even break there." 
 
 " Is it fair to Rogers? He s always been a 
 good old sport." 
 
 " Anything s fair in politics, Jim, specially any 
 thing you can do for yourself. Will you go in 
 or not?" 
 
 "How much will it cost?" 
 
 " Oh, I should say about twenty-five thousand 
 dollars." 
 
 " I haven t got the money." 
 
 Paxton laughed. " Jim," he said, " do you
 
 266 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 suppose I would ask you to go into this, knowing 
 your financial condition as I do, if I had not pro 
 vided for that end of it? " 
 
 " Where s it coming from? " asked Marsh sus 
 piciously. 
 
 " Don t worry about that. Will you get in the 
 game? " 
 
 Marsh walked over to the window and looked 
 out. He saw visions of himself in the Senate, 
 of himself making great speeches there, shaping 
 governmental policies, taking a big part in big 
 affairs. Senator James Marsh ! His heart beat 
 rapidly. His mind flew forward and pictured one 
 triumph after another to him, until he saw himself 
 in the reviewing stand in Washington, in front 
 of the White House, on March fourth, with the 
 bands playing Hail to the Chief, and the marchers 
 cheering him as the president of the United States. 
 
 " Yes," he said, turning to Paxton, " I ll get in 
 the game."
 
 XXIV] 
 
 SENATOR JAMES MARSH OR CHAINS OF GOLD 
 
 I 
 
 talked until two o clock in the 
 morning, making plans and discussing 
 ways and means. Marsh discov 
 ered this was no sudden decision on 
 Paxton s part. That experienced person had 
 been waiting to see if Marsh was successful at the 
 election, and had long ago decided to put some 
 body else in the place of Rogers. They sent tele 
 grams to leaders in various sections of the state, 
 asking them to come to Paxton s house, went over 
 the list of members of the legislature, which was 
 heavily Republican, name by name, marking down 
 beside each the man or the influence needed to 
 control his vote. They gave Rogers every 
 vote they thought he possibly might control 
 and when they had marked these all off and 
 had made their " doubtful " list, they found they 
 had forty-two votes in the lower house and six 
 teen in the upper house that seemed sure for 
 Marsh. This gave them fifty-six votes on joint 
 ballot, and ninety-seven were needed. Their 
 first need, however, was a majority vote in the 
 caucus, and a majority of the caucus was seventy- 
 six. Hence they needed twenty-one or two votes 
 to make sure. 
 
 267
 
 268 THE PRICE OE PLACE 
 
 Next day the leaders came in, assented to the 
 plan, and went over the lists, marking off some 
 and transferring others from the " doubtful " 
 list to the Marsh or Rogers column. Each leader 
 was assigned a certain set of legislators and or 
 dered to report to Senator Paxton in three days 
 after sounding these men out. It was arranged 
 that nothing should be printed until the following 
 Monday, for, as Paxton said, " Monday is the 
 day to get things over in the morning papers. 
 Mighty little happens on Sundays and news is 
 scarce, and we can get a bigger showing on that 
 morning than on any other." Wherein the 
 senator knew what he was talking about. 
 
 Marsh wrote to Mrs. Marsh he would be 
 detained, not telling her why, for fear the news 
 might leak out prematurely in Washington, as 
 news frequently does. He and Paxton inter 
 viewed men, held conferences, and Paxton dis 
 tributed money where it would work to an advan* 
 tage, and brought every political, personal, finan 
 cial and social influence he could command into 
 battle array, ready to charge on those needed 
 twenty or twenty-five votes as soon as the word 
 was given. The money end of it worried Marsh. 
 Paxton seemed to have all the funds he needed 
 and chequed them out liberally. 
 
 "Where did this money come from? n asked 
 Marsh one day, after he had seen Senator Pax- 
 ton hand a worker ten fifty-dollar bills. 
 
 " Oh," the Senator replied in a matter-of-fact
 
 SENATOR JAMES MARSH 269 
 
 way, " I tapped some of the boys back East for 
 it." 
 
 Tapped them?" 
 
 " The same. And the sap flowed freely too 
 the bright yellow sap." 
 
 "What boys?" insisted Marsh. 
 
 u Sonny," replied Paxton, " what you don t 
 know won t hurt you. Suffice it to say you desire 
 to be United States senator. Am I correct in 
 that assumption? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 4 Well, there are others who may share in that 
 desire. So let your mind rest only on that side 
 of the matter, and arrange your affairs so you 
 can go out and make a few speeches, and tell these 
 good people of ours what a fine thing for them" 
 it will be for you to be their junior representative 
 in the United States Senate." 
 
 Paxton was right. The Monday morning 
 papers carried long stories about the candidacy of 
 Marsh for the seat of Senator Rogers. That es 
 timable statesman was taking his ease in New 
 York when he heard the news, and he caught the 
 first train for the West. The Washington papers 
 printed dispatches telling of the plan to make 
 Marsh senator, and giving some of the politics 
 of it, with brief sketches of Marsh, mostly con 
 cerned with his ability as an orator. Marsh re 
 ceived a hysterically happy dispatch from Mrs. 
 Marsh, who apparently considered herself a 
 senator s wife already, and undoubtedly had
 
 270 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 pruned her social list again on the strength of the 
 information. A number of Marsh s colleagues 
 wired him good wishes, and Quicksall sent him a 
 dispatch that showed great gratification on Quick- 
 sail s part over the news. 
 
 The next few weeks were busy ones. Rogers 
 was not without friends, by any means, and they 
 rallied to him. Paxton and Marsh worked un 
 ceasingly, and Paxton paid out money with a 
 prodigality that made Marsh gasp. 
 
 " Senator," Marsh said one day, " are we buy 
 ing any of these votes? " 
 
 " Well," said Paxton, " I would hardly put it 
 in as crass a manner as that. What we are do 
 ing here and there, Jim, is to persuade certain 
 prejudiced legislators to listen to reason." 
 
 "But how?" 
 
 " By the judicious application of plasters guar 
 anteed to improve their listening faculties." 
 
 " What kind of plasters? " 
 
 " Shinplasters, you idiot! Let s go over that 
 list again." 
 
 A general interest was taken in the fight. 
 Senator Rogers was an experienced politician, 
 and there were many men in the state under po 
 litical obligations to him. He put every person 
 he could into his campaign. He and Marsh 
 made a few speeches, and immediately after 
 Christmas the campaign directors of both candi 
 dates moved to the state capital. The election 
 of a senator to succeed Rogers was set for Janu 
 ary fourth and the caucuses were to be held
 
 SENATOR JAMES MARSH 271 
 
 the night before. The opposition newspapers 
 charged Paxton was spending money like water, 
 which charge did not affect Paxton in the 
 slightest. He Issued a statement saying he was 
 spending nothing, save for legitimate publicity, 
 and made the countercharge that it was the Rogers 
 managers who were trying to buy votes. 
 
 He established headquarters in the political 
 hotel, and sat all day and far into the night talk 
 ing in whispers to men who came furtively in and 
 went furtively out. He sent many telegrams, 
 wrote reams of letters, furnished daily pabulum 
 for the newspapers and the special correspondents, 
 and always had his chequebook within reach. Oc 
 casionally he would hire an automobile and run 
 out into the country to meet persons who did not 
 want to be seen about headquarters. He was a 
 busy man. 
 
 On the afternoon before the caucus he claimed 
 the selection of Marsh as the candidate of his 
 party by a majority over Rogers in the caucus of 
 fourteen votes. The caucus selection was equiva 
 lent to the election by the legislature, for the 
 caucus would bind every Republican legislator 
 who went into it, and Paxton would see to it that 
 all of them were there. 
 
 " Jim," he said to Marsh, " weVe trimmed 
 them." 
 
 " I hope I haven t been trimmed in the pro 
 cess," said Marsh moodily. " How much has 
 this thing cost? " 
 
 " For Heaven s sake, cheer up ! " exhorted Pax-
 
 272 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 ton. " One would think you were being sen 
 tenced to hanging instead of being on the verge 
 of election to the Senate." 
 
 " Maybe there isn t so much difference," re 
 plied Marsh gloomily, for he had seen much 
 money paid out, money he knew was bribe money 
 used for the direct buying of votes. 
 
 " Look here, Marsh," said Paxton sharply; 
 " I m tired of this damned nonsense. If you don t 
 like the way this election has been brought about 
 it isn t too late for you to quit now. I don t have 
 to elect you, you know. I ve got a majority of 
 that caucus that would vote for a yellow dog, 
 and maybe I ll put one up, if you don t quit grouch 
 ing round here. Stop it now or I ll withdraw you 
 and throw all my men to Rogers." 
 
 " Oh," protested Marsh alarmed, " I didn t 
 _ n 
 
 "Well, then, see that you don t. Don t let 
 that ingrowing conscience of yours get to paining 
 you too much or I ll send you back to Morgan- 
 ville by slow freight. Cut it out now. Are you 
 going to play or not? " 
 
 Marsh hestitated. He knew it was rotten, 
 crooked, vile. Would he declare himself no party 
 to it? Would he allow his manhood to assert it 
 self? Or would he submit and take the office? 
 Those pictures of himself in the Senate, making 
 great speeches, having a big part in big affairs 
 flashed before him, and he could hear the bands 
 blaring on Pennsylvania Avenue on the fourth of 
 March.
 
 SENATOR JAMES MARSH 273 
 
 " Certainly I m going to play," he said. 
 
 " All right then, and forgetting this foolishness 
 I salute you as my next colleague in the Senate." 
 
 The caucus was held. Paxton was correct in 
 his estimate. Marsh had a majority of the four 
 teen and was declared the party candidate for 
 senator. The legislature ratified the choice of 
 the caucus, the Republicans voting for Marsh to 
 a man. He went in and made a speech, conse 
 crating himself to the great work of serving the 
 people, as he had similarly consecrated himself 
 before his congressional convention, and he 
 worked himself into a frame of mind where he 
 thought he meant it. 
 
 He received scores of congratulatory telegrams. 
 Among them was one from Byron. It said: 
 " You have opportunity and you have ability. 
 Cut loose before it is too late." 
 
 Marsh read that telegram several times. 
 " Cut loose! " he said to himself. " How can a 
 man cut loose who is bound by chains of gold? "
 
 XXV 
 
 THE DEBUT OF DOROTHY 
 
 1 
 
 Marshes were conducting their 
 campaigns simultaneously. While Mr. 
 Marsh was at home, seeking to be 
 elected to the Senate, his wife was in 
 Washington, planning just as shrewd and as care-- 
 ful a campaign to make her daughter s coming 
 out a success. The date for Dorothy s introduc 
 tion to society was the first strategic problem. 
 Mrs. Marsh, as soon as she arrived in Washing 
 ton in October, had set about finding out the num 
 ber of debutantes there were to be that season. 
 She had secured a list of about twenty, for there 
 were other ambitious mothers who were equally 
 well aware of the advantages that came to a bud 
 who is introduced in the same season with the 
 girls of the fashionable families, and all of them 
 were making the same sort of plans Mrs. Marsh 
 was making and scheming and contriving as cease 
 lessly as she. 
 
 Everything centred that season on the coming- 
 out of the daughter of the president. There 
 fore, it was Mrs. Marsh s first concern to learn 
 when that important event was to take place. 
 She had assiduously cultivated the social secretary 
 
 274
 
 THE DEBUT OF DOROTHY 275 
 
 at the White House, and she visited that arbitrary 
 and powerful person, and managed to wheedle 
 out of her the fact that the daughter of the White 
 House would be introduced on the last Thursday 
 in November. As soon as she obtained this in 
 formation Mrs. Marsh hurried out her invita 
 tions for the Tuesday preceding that Thursday, 
 pre-empting that date and making it doubly secure 
 by sending announcements to the newspapers. 
 She divided her list of debutantes into three parts, 
 for she knew, of course, as every society woman 
 knows, that even the buds are to be classified into 
 sets the really fashionable ones, those that are 
 a little less important and exclusive, and finally 
 those that are merely hangers-on, who seek to get 
 advantage by hovering on the outskirts and get 
 ting what glory they may by coming out in a sea 
 son that means much socially, both to the buds 
 themselves and to their mothers. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh refused to admit even to herself 
 that Dorothy came in this latter classification and 
 worked desperately to include Dorothy in the first 
 flight. There were seven of these, seven girls 
 including the president s daughter, who were 
 unquestionably of the highest social class. 
 Twelve were of a little lower grade socially and 
 the rest merely of the fringe. Mrs. Marsh made 
 her classifications skilfully. She not only invited 
 the first seven, but made sure by personal solicita 
 tion they would attend Dorothy s party. She 
 also included the next division and a few of the 
 fringe. She was very happy when all her accept-
 
 276 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 ances were in and the success of the affair was 
 assured. 
 
 Her next concern was to identify Dorothy still 
 more conspicuously with the seven girls who were 
 the leaders. To bring this about she manoeuvred 
 for days, visiting the women who write the society 
 columns for the newspapers and urging them to 
 include Dorothy s picture in the group that should 
 present to the public the pictures of these most 
 important girls. She had helped these women in 
 every way with news and gossip and knew them 
 well. She paid particular attention to the women 
 who do the society news for the fashionable illus 
 trated weeklies, and by a process of cajoling, flat 
 tering, combined with judicious influence properly 
 applied, she made sure that the picture of Miss 
 Dorothy Marsh, daughter of the Honourable John 
 Marsh, of the House of Representatives and po 
 tential senator, would be in that group. She 
 began this early, for the picture layouts which 
 is the technical term for the weeklies had to be 
 made up some time before the publication in order 
 to be printed about the time of the parties. Mrs. 
 Marsh devoted all her efforts to this essential 
 feature of her campaign and was successful. She 
 was assured that the picture of Dorothy would be 
 presented to the awed public in the same group 
 that showed the president s daughter in her pretty 
 frock, and spent hours and hours at the photo 
 graph gallery with Dorothy, aiming to get just 
 the right picture in just the most attractive pose
 
 THE DEBUT OF DOROTHY 277 
 
 for this purpose. Nor was her task ended then, 
 for she must keep constant watch lest some other 
 ambitious mother should depose Dorothy and 
 push her own daughter into this indispensable 
 company. 
 
 She was not an extravagant woman, in the sense 
 of wasting money, but she decided to stop at no 
 expense for this display and had laid the facts 
 fully before her husband. He had good-naturedly 
 told her to do what was necessary, and had pro 
 vided her with twenty-five hundred dollars for 
 house account and for her campaign, in addition 
 to paying the first monthly instalment of the rent. 
 Mrs. Marsh economised everywhere except in the 
 matter of the coming-out party. She and Doro 
 thy lived plainly. She scrimped the servants, 
 did without many things that would have added 
 to her comfort, and saved in every possible way, 
 but she was prodigal when it came to the intro 
 duction of Dorothy. She knew she could make 
 a showing with an afternoon function, a recep 
 tion from five to seven, say, with the other 
 buds there and plenty of flowers and food and 
 music, but she decided she must rivet Dorothy s 
 position and her own. After much thought she 
 planned a reception, a small dinner arad a dance. 
 This would enable her to ask to the reception all 
 those whom she could by any possibility ask and 
 who might add some distinction to the affair,, 
 and to make up an extremely select party for the 
 dinner. About fifty of the most desirable ones
 
 278 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 were invited to the dance. She flooded society 
 with the invitations for the reception, sending out 
 fully five hundred cards. 
 
 As soon as the news came that Marsh- was a 
 candidate for the senatorship and had a fair 
 chance of election, the acceptances increased in 
 number and in importance. The mothers who 
 had hesitated about accepting for their daughters 
 suddenly decided it might be well to do so, and 
 by the second week in November Mrs. Marsh was 
 in ecstasies of delight, for all the really fashion 
 able debutantes were to be there, and Dorothy 
 had been invited to every one of their parties, in 
 cluding that of the president s daughter. 
 
 The buds began coming out early in November. 
 Dorothy went careering from one party to an 
 other, attending luncheons and dinners and dances. 
 She was full of life and spirits and enjoyed her 
 self thoroughly, although she was so well in 
 formed as to the plots and plans and intrigues 
 of the scheming mothers behind these girls that 
 she often wondered that she did. Mrs. Marsh 
 guarded her carefully and kept her in bed on days 
 when there were no parties, a regimen against 
 which Dorothy protested but which Mrs. Marsh 
 inexorably enforced. 
 
 Then came the great day, the Tuesday before 
 the last Thursday in November. The news 
 papers had been full of the arrangements for the 
 debut of the president s daughter, but Mrs. 
 Marsh had seen to it that there was adequate 
 mention of her own function. On the Sunday be-
 
 THE DEBUT OF DOROTHY 279 
 
 fore these parties the newspapers had printed the 
 group picture of the most important buds, and 
 the charming face of Miss Dorothy Marsh was in 
 each one. The illustrated weeklies came along, 
 and there was Dorothy s picture close to the pic 
 ture of the president s daughter and the daughters 
 of the other big families. Mrs. Marsh cried a 
 little when she saw these pictures and read the 
 flattering text that referred to Miss Dorothy as 
 " one of the most charming of the season s array 
 of buds from official and residential society in 
 Washington." Likewise she sent all the clip 
 pings, showing the pictures, to her husband, with 
 a letter telling in detail just what this meant to 
 them all, and pointing out that it meant more to 
 him than to any one, inasmuch as this establish 
 ment of their social position would undoubtedly 
 aid him in securing further honours at the Capital 
 and elsewhere. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh had been careful to include in her 
 invitation lists a number of the most available of 
 the under secretaries and attaches of the embas 
 sies, and as it was known that the president s 
 daughter was to be at Dorothy s party, most of 
 these gilded young gentlemen accepted, thus in 
 suring an imposing list of " among those present " 
 for the newspapers next day. She had set her 
 hours from five to seven instead of from four to 
 seven, as was the custom, thereby gaining in fash 
 ionable esteem, and she had filled the house 
 with flowers, had engaged the best caterer in the 
 city for the refreshments, and had secured an
 
 280 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 orchestra that was to play behind a bank of palms. 
 
 At five o clock Mrs. Marsh, regal in a new 
 gown of yellow satin, took her stand in the draw 
 ing room with Dorothy beside her. Dorothy s 
 gown looked simple, but it really was a most ex 
 pensive affair, and had been the cause of many 
 tears on the part of the dressmaker and much con 
 cern on the part of Mrs. Marsh. The butler, 
 dignified as a chief justice, was at the entrance. 
 Everything was in readiness for the great social 
 triumph of the Marsh family. 
 
 The other buds arrived early and made an at 
 tractive group in the drawing room. Then the 
 guests began dropping in in twos and threes, and 
 presently the street outside the Marsh house was 
 jammed with automobiles and carriages and the 
 drawing room was crowded. As the guests en 
 tered the butler announced them. They greeted 
 Mrs. Marsh and were presented in turn by Mrs. 
 Marsh to Dorothy. The crush was greatest at 
 six o clock. There were few of the older men 
 present, although some husbands came with their 
 fashionable wives, but the young men were in 
 force, under secretaries from the European em 
 bassies, a few of the most desirable of the young 
 Latin-Americans, young army and navy officers, 
 sons of senators, and some of the sons of the resi 
 dential families. Mrs. Marsh was radiant. She 
 knew exactly what to do, regretted the sad fact 
 that the political duties of her husband kept him 
 away, received her congratulations with becoming
 
 THE DEBUT OF DOROTHY 281 
 
 modesty, smiled complacently when they told her 
 about the superlative beauty and social graces of 
 her daughter, and was a most admirable as well 
 as a most fashionable hostess. The dinner that 
 night was a triumph, and the dance, which lasted 
 until midnight, was most enjoyable. After the 
 last guest had left, Mrs. Marsh, standing with 
 Dorothy in the drawing room, that looked dis 
 mally empty despite its abundance of decorations, 
 threw her arms about her daughter. 
 
 " We have arrived at last I " she cried. " After 
 all these years of struggle and work and planning 
 we have arrived. I am so happy! It has been 
 a hard fight, but it is worth it. Do you appre 
 ciate what this means to you and to me, Dorothy? 
 They were all there the best people in Wash 
 ington, the most exclusive families, the highest 
 officials." 
 
 " Not exactly all, mamma," protested Dorothy. 
 " A few were missing." 
 
 " I think, my dear," said Mrs. Marsh a little 
 coldly, " that if you scan the lists in the society 
 news in the morning, you will discover there will 
 be as many fashionable names in those mentioned 
 as present to-day as have occurred in any debu 
 tante list this season." 
 
 Dorothy laughed. " It seems to me," she said, 
 " the only reason I was introduced to society was 
 to have a list of those present printed in the pa 
 pers." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh shrugged her shoulders. " I have
 
 282 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 often wondered," she said, " if you fully realise 
 your position and your opportunities." 
 
 " Perhaps not," said Dorothy. " But I know 
 you ve worked very hard for me, mother dear, 
 and I really am grateful." Long after her 
 daughter had kissed her good-night Mrs. Marsh 
 was still sitting in the big drawing room, dream 
 ing happy dreams of social triumphs yet to come. 
 
 She had her plans made. In any event she 
 would give a dinner, a most exclusive dinner, and 
 have a singer or a musician from New York to 
 entertain her guests. Or perhaps she might have 
 a reception with a singer of note, and if her hus 
 band should be elected to the Senate she intended 
 to give a series of four morning musicales, to 
 which she would invite the most exclusive women 
 in Washington. She sorted out in her mind the 
 four gradations of guests, taking those of least 
 account for the first musicale, and having the least 
 expensive artist for that one, and so on until the 
 fourth, when she would have only the most exclu 
 sive women and a great musician. She could pic 
 ture already the notices that would appear in the 
 papers. 
 
 She also resolved to urge her husband to fur 
 ther efforts in money making. She had heard 
 stories of how this man had a retainer from such 
 a corporation for purely legal services, of 
 course and how that one was making worlds of 
 money in the stock market, and she decided her 
 husband must exert himself, for she knew the 
 social campaign she had planned would be expen-
 
 THE DEBUT OF DOROTHY 283 
 
 sive. It was Imperative, though, for she must 
 press the advantage she had already secured. 
 She fancied herself a senator s wife, and her mind 
 ran far ahead and she, too, had visions of the 
 White House, with herself as First Lady of the 
 Land. And it was all in her husband s interest. 
 James must see that and provide the money. She 
 was unselfishly giving up her life to advance him, 
 and he must do his part. 
 
 The butler tentatively turned off a light at this 
 point, and Mrs. Marsh roused herself and went 
 to her room, to lay awake for hours planning new 
 social triumphs for Dorothy and herself, looking 
 ahead to the day when Dorothy should marry a 
 man who would help them both with fortune and 
 with position toward the goal.
 
 XXVI 
 
 SANTA CLAUS ARRIVES 
 
 MARSH ran down to Washington for 
 a day or two at Christmas, and 
 found Dorothy and Mrs. Marsh en 
 gaged in a round of social pleasures. 
 Dorothy was invited to the numerous luncheons, 
 theatre parties, dances and teas given for the 
 buds, and Mrs. Marsh had a tea and a theatre party 
 for Dorothy. Marsh hurried back to the state 
 capital, and returned to Washington immediately 
 after his election to the Senate. Mrs. Marsh un 
 folded her social plans to him. She told him of 
 the dinners she intended to give and explained her 
 plan for a series of four musical mornings. 
 
 " Gee, Molly," he exclaimed, " that will take a 
 lot of money! " 
 
 Yes," she replied, "it will cost something; 
 not as much as you may think, but something." 
 
 " You know our living expenses are horribly in 
 creased with this house and all the rest of it," 
 ventured Marsh. 
 
 " I am fully aware of all that too," she said; 
 " but if you will stop to consider the advantages 
 we have obtained, the manner in which Dorothy 
 has been established why, James, she is invited 
 
 284
 
 SANTA, GLAUS ARRIVES 285 
 
 everywhere and so am I you will see that it is 
 worth whatever it may cost." 
 
 " Molly," asked Marsh, " just what do you 
 figure it is worth to us? " 
 
 " It goes far beyond mere money value," Mrs. 
 Marsh explained eagerly. " It has established 
 Dorothy and me in the most select society of this 
 city. It will give us the entree to the houses of 
 the ambassadors, to the cabinet homes, and will 
 get us recognition at the White House. Surely 
 you must see what that will mean to you." 
 
 " I know, I know," soothed Marsh; " but I am 
 not a rich man, Molly." 
 
 "Why are you not a rich man?" she flared. 
 " Other men with not half your ability or your 
 prominence get rich in Washington. You have 
 friends in New York. You made money in that 
 copper stock. Why can t you make more? 
 Surely you owe some consideration to Dorothy 
 and myself, who have worked so hard to help 
 you." 
 
 " You don t want me to be dishonest, do you? " 
 
 " Dishonest? No, but who says Senator Fer- 
 singer is dishonest, or Senator Pywell? Who 
 says Representative Danton is dishonest, or Rep 
 resentative Alton? They have made money here; 
 yet they are not called dishonest. They take 
 advantage of their opportunities. So might you 
 if you only would." 
 
 Marsh walked away. Fersinger, he knew, had 
 a big retainer from a great corporation; Pywell 
 represented certain railroads; Danton was re-
 
 286 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 ported to be close to Wall Street, and so on. He 
 felt there was some reason in his wife s viewpoint. 
 These men were held in high regard. Nobody 
 called them dishonest, nor did they consider them 
 selves so. They were simply playing the game 
 and utilising their opportunities. Why shouldn t 
 he? 
 
 He was warmly congratulated on his election 
 to the Senate. The organisation leaders in the 
 House made much of him, although they mourned 
 his loss, they said. He was invited twice to din 
 ners given by the Senate leader, and Senator 
 Paxton gave a great dinner in his honour at the 
 big hotel, where there were a hundred and fifty 
 guests, and where all the speakers referred to him 
 in the most complimentary terms and predicted a 
 great future for him. Before the end of the 
 short session of Congress Marsh felt himself to 
 be a great man. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh was drawing rather heavily on him 
 and he was nearly at the end of his resources, 
 when one night early in February Rambo tele 
 phoned to him at his house that he was coming up 
 to see him. 
 
 Rambo plunged at once into the subject that 
 concerned him. " Marsh," he said, " I have got 
 a chance to make a pot of money." 
 
 "Well?" said Marsh, displaying interest. 
 
 " A pot of money, I say, and I come to you be 
 cause you can do more with what I have than I 
 can. Do you want to go in? "
 
 SANTA CLAUS ARRIVES 287 
 
 " How can I tell until I hear more about it? " 
 asked Marsh. 
 
 " Jim," said Rambo, glancing around the room 
 and lowering his voice to a whisper, " I can get 
 an advance copy of the decision of the Supreme 
 Court in the Alta Continental Case." 
 
 ; What of it?" 
 
 "What of it?" sneered Rambo, looking at 
 Marsh in undisguised contempt. " Nothing of it, 
 except that the stockmarket will break, crumble 
 on that decision, and if we know it in advance 
 we can clean up a lot of coin." 
 
 " I haven t any money to buy stock with," said 
 Marsh. 
 
 " You haven t any money to buy stock with," 
 mimicked Rambo. " Well, neither have I got any 
 money I am going to buy stock with. For 
 Heaven s sake, wake up ! Don t you see what I 
 mean? You may not have money to buy stock 
 with, but you know men who have got money 
 to buy stocks with. Get them to buy the stock." 
 
 "Where do we come in?" 
 
 Rambo threw his arms in the air and stamped 
 about the room. " Great God," he shouted, 
 " are you such an infant that you don t know where 
 we come in? We come in because for the infor 
 mation we will have they will carry a certain num 
 ber of shares of stock for us and we ll get the 
 profit without risk." 
 
 "Will they do it?" 
 
 "Will they do it? Of course they will do it.
 
 288 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 If they don t, they won t get the information. It s 
 a big deal, and they will be glad enough to split 
 for the information." 
 
 "But why do you tell me about it?" asked 
 Marsh suspiciously. 
 
 Rambo sat down and lighted a cigar. " The 
 reason I tell you about it," he said slowly, " is be 
 cause you have connections over there that will 
 operate on a bigger scale than any of mine, 
 especially as you are now a senator-elect." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " Quicksall, you idiot ! Quicksall! You know 
 him and you know he represents a big combination 
 over there. He ll take a chance. That s his 
 business. And we ve got to work quickly too. 
 This is Tuesday, and the decision is coming down 
 next Monday." 
 
 Where did you get the decision?" asked 
 Marsh. 
 
 " Never mind where I got it. I ll prove that 
 it s genuine all right when the time comes. It 
 will cost five thousand dollars and a few shares of 
 stock carried. Will you go in? " 
 
 Marsh was intensely interested. He needed 
 the money. He had heard rumours of the profit 
 derived from a foreknowledge not only of court 
 decisions, but also of congressional action, 
 especially in tariff matters, and he pressed Rambo 
 for further details. 
 
 " Oh, it s all right," said Rambo. " If you 
 will give your word I ll tell you how we can get 
 it."
 
 SANTA CLAUS ARRIVES 289 
 
 Marsh promised. 
 
 " A stenographer will leak, " said Rambo, and 
 would go no further. "Are you in?" 
 
 Marsh hesitated. " Hurry up," urged Ram 
 bo. " We ve got to get action right away. If 
 you are in get Quicksall on the telephone at his 
 house or his club and tell him to take the mid 
 night train." 
 
 Marsh fiddled with his watchcharm and puffed 
 nervously at his cigar. 
 
 " Oh, hell! " said Rambo, " come on. There s 
 no danger. Nobody will know anything about 
 it. Here, where s your telephone?" 
 
 He went to the telephone and said to the op 
 erator: "Give me the toll board, please. 
 Hello, toll, this is Marsh, what s your number 
 this is North 16766. I want George F. 
 Quicksall, who lives not far from Fifth Avenue 
 on East Seventy-third Street, New York. ( You 
 can find his number in the book. If he isn t 
 there try the Metropolitan Club. Call me, and 
 please hurry the connection as much as you can." 
 
 Marsh several times started to protest, but each 
 time he refrained. It seemed safe. It was legit 
 imate enough, so far as he was concerned, for he 
 had no dealings with the stenographer. He 
 calmed his conscience with the thought that he was 
 no briber. He was merely utilising information 
 that came to him from a friend. It was a flimsy 
 pretext, but he saw visions of immediate cash. 
 
 " When we get Quicksall," said Rambo, " tell 
 him to come over on the midnight train; that it s
 
 290 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 very important; and he ll come all right. And 
 Marsh," Rambo continued, his face hardening, 
 " you ve got to make this deal a good one. Don t 
 let Quicksall put anything over on you. He s a 
 trader and is always looking for the best of it. 
 He ll want to let you down with five hundred 
 or a thousand shares. That won t do. Make 
 him carry us for two thousand shares apiece and 
 put up the five thousand dollars, or there s no 
 thing doing. If he won t come across we ll try 
 Tipton, of the other big bunch over there. Tell 
 him that. Don t let him con you." 
 
 The telephone bell jangled. " All ready with 
 New York," said the long-distance operator. 
 
 Quicksall was on the telephone. Marsh 
 talked. 
 
 " Hello, Quicksall. This is Marsh yes, 
 Senator Marsh or it will be pretty soon. 
 Thank you. I have a very important matter I 
 want to talk to you about. No, that won t do; 
 can t you take the midnight train to-night? It s 
 very important. All right. Come out to my 
 house for breakfast I ll expect you about eight 
 o clock. The train gets in at seven-thirty. 
 Thanks. Good-bye." 
 
 Marsh turned to Rambo. " You re sure it s 
 safe? " he asked a bit tremulously. 
 
 " Sure, it s safe. No one on earth will know 
 anything about it. You make the deal and tele 
 phone me and we ll both meet Quicksall at noon 
 and I ll give him the notes of the decision. It s a 
 corker! There will be something doing in Alta
 
 SANTA CLAUS ARRIVES 291 
 
 Continental all right when Wall Street gets it. 
 We ve got to work fast for this damned sten 
 ographer may peddle this decision to somebody 
 else. There s no honour among that kind of cat 
 tle. If it gets out before Monday the stuff will 
 begin to break before that." 
 
 Quicksall came up to Marsh s house for break 
 fast. Marsh told him what he had, or what he 
 could get rather. Quicksall was greatly inter 
 ested. 
 
 " Sure it s straight?" asked Quicksall. 
 
 " It s the stenographer s final notes of the 
 decision." 
 
 " What s the trend of it? " asked Quicksall in 
 nocently. 
 
 " Can t say, " fenced Marsh. " I haven t seen 
 it yet." 
 
 "Then how do you know it s genuine?" 
 
 " Oh, I know it s all right. Don t worry about 
 that." 
 
 " Well, " said Quicksall, " what do you want 
 me to do? " 
 
 " Carry some stock for myself and my associates 
 in the deal you make." 
 
 " All right," said Quicksall, as if it was all 
 settled; " I ll put you in for a thousand shares." 
 
 "A thousand?" 
 
 Yes, I ll carry you for a thousand shares, if 
 it looks as good after I get it as you say it is." 
 
 " Quicksall," said Marsh, his heart thumping 
 but his voice steady, " I m afraid we can t do any 
 business."
 
 292 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 "Why not?" asked Quicksall sharply. 
 
 " Because my associates won t give up this in 
 formation for so small a price." 
 
 " A thousand shares of stock is a lot of stock, " 
 commented Quicksall, eying Marsh narrowly; 
 " but I don t want to be a tight-wad in this affair. 
 Suppose we say fifteen hundred? " 
 
 " Not enough," Marsh tried to be very busi 
 nesslike, but he felt his voice trembling. 
 
 " Not enough? " exclaimed Quicksall. " How 
 much do you wolves want then? " 
 
 " Four thousand shares." 
 
 "Holy Moses!" shouted Quicksall. "Do 
 you think we ve got all the money in the 
 world?" 
 
 " Maybe not," said Marsh, " but this deal is 
 big enough to entitle us to four thousand shares 
 of stock in it." 
 
 " Look here, Marsh," said Quicksall, " I ve 
 always done the fair thing by you. What s the 
 use of laying down on me this way? We ve got 
 to take the risk and put up the money. Make 
 it three thousand." 
 
 Marsh had gained courage by this time. He 
 saw Quicksall was most anxious to get the in 
 formation, and he was sorry he had not set his 
 figure at five thousand shares. 
 
 " Four thousand shares or nothing," he in 
 sisted. 
 
 " All right," assented Quicksall, " where s your 
 dope?" They telephoned to Rambo, who met 
 them at one of the hotels. Quicksall smiled
 
 SANTA CLAUS ARRIVES 293 
 
 when he saw Rambo. : Pressing things a little, 
 ain t you, Rambo?" he asked. 
 
 " Oh," and Rambo grinned as he said it, 
 " everything is fair in high finance, Quicksall." 
 
 The deal was arranged. Quicksall gave his 
 word he would carry four thousand shares of 
 stock and received the notes of the decision. He 
 caught the Congressional Limited to New York 
 at four o clock and Marsh and Rambo awaited 
 events. In order to help along, Rambo gave out 
 a story to some friends of his, who had wire con 
 nections with Wall Street, that the long-expected 
 decision in the Alta Continental Case, which would 
 probably be handed down on Monday, was fa 
 vourable to the contention of the corporation. 
 This held the stock steady in New York for a day 
 or so, while Quicksall made his arrangements to 
 sell a great many thousand shares at the proper 
 time, for the stock was sure to break. 
 
 Monday came and the small courtroom of the 
 Supreme Court was crowded, for the vital deci 
 sion was expected. The alert reporters who 
 flashed the decisions to New York were standing 
 near the door. Their familiarity with the meth 
 ods and manners of the court was so great, and 
 their knowledge of the cases so intimate, they 
 could tell the general trend of a decision after 
 hearing a few hundred words of it. The best of 
 them kept a card index on every important case, 
 containing the main points of the various conten 
 tions, summarised, and as soon as the drift of the 
 opinion became apparent they were able to write
 
 294 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 a bulletin for the New York wires that would get 
 to Wall Street instantly, as wires were kept open 
 for that purpose on decision days. 
 
 A few important decisions were announced and 
 then one of the justices began to read the decision 
 in the Alta Continental Case. Before he had 
 read five minutes the expert reporters knew the 
 decision was adverse to the Alta Continental con 
 tention, and they flashed the first bulletin; 
 " Scotus " Scotus is the telegraphic code word 
 for Supreme Court of the United States " de 
 cides adversely Alta Continental," and supple 
 mented that information with other bulletins giv 
 ing the details of the decision. The stock broke 
 heavily, selling off ten dollars a share almost in 
 stantly, then coming back and then going down, 
 until the total loss of the day was a fraction over 
 eleven dollars before the financial powers could 
 get their support in. 
 
 Quicksall s brokers were prepared. They 
 executed their orders, covered at an average of 
 ten dollars profit, and Quicksall wired Marsh: 
 " Santa Claus arrived on schedule time." 
 
 A day or two later Marsh received a cheque for 
 $39,500, which was the $40,000 profit on the deal 
 less the broker s commissions. He put this 
 cheque in his bank and gave a cheque to Rambo 
 for half of it. Mrs. Marsh was delighted. 
 Marsh did not tell her the details of his trans 
 action, but he told her he had made fifteen or six 
 teen thousand dollars, and she planned another 
 reception with a grand-opera star from New York 
 as the added attraction.
 
 XXVII 
 
 A SUITABLE ALLIANCE 
 
 DOROTHY received many letters from 
 Tom Darlington; each protesting un 
 dying affection, and had written him 
 several non-committal replies devoted 
 mostly to her social adventures. After he had 
 received one of these, Tom was downcast and 
 gloomy for days. He still looked on the whole 
 of Washington society with suspicion and held 
 to his belief that Dorothy would be snatched from 
 him by some young man down there. 
 
 The fact was Dorothy met many young men 
 and, as she was an attractive girl, had her share of 
 attention, but she danced as gaily and flirted as 
 harmlessly with one as with another. Mrs. 
 Marsh still had her four desirables in mind, and 
 she saw to it they were included in all her lists, 
 while she urged Dorothy to attend every func 
 tion where any one or all of them might be. 
 She had not positively decided on which one she 
 would make her son-in-law, but her preferences 
 were centred on a young man, the son of the 
 very rich Senator Wheeldon, from an Eastern 
 state, who was devoting himself to society and the 
 usual diversions of rich young men in Washing- 
 
 295
 
 296 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 ton, and who had not a thought of marrying 
 Dorothy or any one else. 
 
 One afternoon Dorothy met Mrs. Lyster at a 
 reception. 
 
 " Sit down, my dear," said that sprightly lady, 
 " and have a chat with me. How are you com 
 ing along in society?" 
 
 " Ob," replied Dorothy, " famously, I should 
 suppose, if going everywhere means getting along 
 in society." 
 
 " Indeed it does," said Mrs. Lyster, " and that 
 is all it means. Society, as we indulge in it here, 
 consists of going to functions given by other 
 people, which bore you, in order that other people 
 will come to your functions, which bore them. 
 We work at it as hard as we should work at mak 
 ing dresses if we were seamstresses, and without 
 the reward of something accomplished the seam 
 stress has. We struggle to have people who 
 consider themselves more exclusive than we are 
 let down the bars for us, fight desperately to get 
 within the sacrosanct inclosure, and once we are in 
 we immediately put up the bars against all others 
 who may be making the same fight we are. We 
 increase our own importance by arrogating to our- 
 self the importance of others, as soon as we feel 
 the others and more important have acknowl 
 edged us at a portion of their own estimates of 
 themselves. Then we press on and on, and every 
 time we can attach ourselves to some one higher 
 up than we are we push down those who are be 
 low us and reach out for those above us. It s
 
 r A SUITABLE ALLIANCE 297 
 
 an endless struggle, a continual battle to get dis 
 tinction from association with those who seem to 
 be distinguished and to keep others from using us 
 for the very same purposes. 
 
 " I don t suppose you see the humour of it yet, 
 but you will in time. I go to dinner after dinner 
 and meet almost the same people. Once in a 
 while there is a new one, somebody who has 
 fought her way in and has brought her self-con 
 scious husband with her. They are all the same, 
 served by the same caterer with the same menus. 
 Why, do you know, I am so accustomed to seeing 
 the waiters at these dinners that I have to re 
 strain myself lest I should shake hands with 
 them as old friends and ask after the children. 
 We talk of the same things. I know perfectly 
 well that if I were to be transported to some other 
 clime for ten years, and then should be brought 
 back again, I would hear the women I would meet, 
 and the men too, talking about exactly the same 
 things they were talking about when I went away, 
 and sharing their infinitesimal ideas about society 
 without a change of expression even. 
 
 " Of course it isn t all so, for there are scores 
 of cultured women in this city who have a wide 
 and varied range of information, and who can 
 talk interestingly on interesting topics, women 
 who are not fashionable in the society sense of 
 that much misused word, but who have charming, 
 cultured homes, who are quick to seize the great 
 advantages that come to any woman who lives in 
 Washington, and who know and understand the
 
 298 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 affairs of the day that centre here. There are 
 women whom it is a delight to know, who give 
 dinners and receptions where you meet real men 
 and real women, but these are not the ones whose 
 doings are chronicled through efforts of their own 
 so constantly in the newspapers, and whose high 
 est ambition is to outshine a neighbour or a friend 
 save the mark by snaring for her house 
 some more distinguished person or some more ex 
 clusive woman than her friend can obtain. We 
 lift ourselves by hanging to the coattails and the 
 trains of those who are just above us. And when 
 we get to the top, when we are the ones for whose 
 favour all the underlings are striving, how quickly 
 we forget our own strivings and how vastly ex 
 clusive we become." 
 
 Mrs. Lyster stopped and sipped her tea. " I 
 hope you don t mind the maunderings of an old 
 lady who means well," she said. 
 
 " It s very interesting, provided it isn t per 
 sonal, and" she smiled at Mrs. Lyster "of 
 course it isn t personal." 
 
 " Oh, certainly not," that lady hastened to say. 
 " It s entirely general, I assure you. But in a 
 broad way, you know, every climber is like every 
 other climber. They all prefer a nod from a 
 higher-up to a gift from a lower-down, however 
 meritorious a lower-down may be; but when a 
 climber gets at or near the top she straightway 
 forgets her own woes and disappointments and 
 anguish and discouragements, and instead of being 
 sympathetic with those who are treading the
 
 A SUITABLE ALLIANCE 299 
 
 weary path she has trod, she becomes cold as ice 
 and puts every possible barrier in the way of those 
 poor souls. In other words, after working until 
 she is on the verge of nervous prostration and 
 plotting and scheming and intriguing to get into the 
 exclusive set, regardless of whether those already 
 in want her or not, which nine times out of ten 
 they do not, she instantly forgets her own trials 
 and stands shoulder to shoulder with her new 
 found social compatriots to keep everybody else 
 out. Oh, my dear, it is a heartbreaking system, 
 and so useless for the mere drudgery and de 
 tail and mustness of continual attention to it so 
 exhausts a woman she has nothing to give that 
 can benefit anybody, nor have those with whom she 
 mingles anything to give her, and neither could 
 receive even if the others had all the knowledge 
 of the ages at their control. 
 
 " But I m too serious ! How are you getting 
 on with the younger diplomatists? " 
 
 " Well enough," said Dorothy, thinking of 
 Tom Darlington s passionate protests against get 
 ting on with them at all. 
 
 u I don t see how we could manage without 
 them, the dear, useful chaps," continued Mrs. 
 Lyster. " If we did not have the younger dip 
 lomatists to fall back on we never should have any 
 men at our affairs. But those gallant lads are 
 always ready. They will come to teas and to 
 dinners, and if one is wise one always knows 
 where to find one of them to fill in when a guest 
 has failed one. Besides, even if they do not come
 
 300 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 they always get cards and are entirely too gentle 
 manly to say anything when they find themselves 
 reported in the newspapers as having been here 
 and there, giving tone by their titles or their posi 
 tions to functions they never attended at all, but 
 for which they had cards, of course. 
 
 " One of them told me all the clothes he needed 
 were an afternoon suit, an evening suit and a suit 
 of pyjamas, for he never went out until it was 
 time to go to a tea and he always had invitations 
 to dinner. In this way he had no expense be 
 yond his room rent; but he said he did wish it 
 would come to be the custom to serve bacon 
 and eggs instead of pale punch and small cakes 
 at afternoon affairs, for he was very tired of 
 breakfasting on that sort of stuff and he drank 
 so nuch tea it positively was making him nervous. 
 
 " And, by the way, my dear, I hope you have 
 selected your hairdresser and your manicure 
 and your masseuse with discretion. You cannot 
 imagine of what inestimable benefit these creatures 
 are if you get the right ones. Be sure and engage 
 only those who go to the houses of the social 
 leaders, for in this way you are able to keep 
 track of affairs nicely. After they once get to 
 know you these people are invaluable for purposes 
 of information. They see everything and hear 
 everything and they are delightful gossips. I 
 have learned of many a social stratagem while my 
 hair was being treated or my body massaged. Of 
 course they talk about your affairs to others, but 
 one must take that chance; and then, you know,
 
 A SUITABLE ALLIANCE 301 
 
 one always thinks herself impeccable, and that is 
 comforting." 
 
 A stately woman swept through the room, 
 elaborately dressed. She was about half as 
 youthful as her clothes. " Positively she gets 
 younger, as to toilettes at least, every day. And 
 she holds her own physically too." 
 
 Mrs. Lyster smiled at Dorothy. " Let me tell 
 you something," she said. " The secret of lon 
 gevity is to be well-to-do or a rich widow. Such 
 people never die. This city is filled with rich 
 widows who have discovered the life eternal. 
 Years and years ago father, after making his pile 
 and unmaking himself in the process, died and left 
 the results of all his struggles and his scheming 
 and contriving to mother, including a very wel 
 come portion of life insurance. Mother, well pro 
 vided for, has nothing on earth to do but live, 
 and she lives on and on and on. There are scores 
 of others like her, whom I have known for twenty 
 years, and they are just as lively and just as far 
 from dissolution as they were when I first en 
 countered them. They have nothing to do but 
 to take care of themselves, and they have that 
 down to a science. They eat sparingly, sleep 
 well and have no worries. That s the prescrip 
 tion, Miss Dorothy, for a long, long life. Get 
 married, get a husband who can and will be ap 
 preciative in his will, weep decorously when his 
 efforts to pile up money for you cut him off in the 
 flower of his youth, and then live happily forever 
 after. But I must be going. Don t mind my
 
 302 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 nonsense, my dear. I have to talk something be 
 sides the usual piffle at times or explode, and this 
 time I selected you for my victim. Good-bye. 
 Come in and see me when you get an opportunity." 
 
 She moved away, laughing, and Dorothy went 
 back home and there found another letter from 
 Tom Darlington. It was a long letter, and it 
 said explicitly and passionately, that unless a cer 
 tain divinity, by name Dorothy Marsh, took pity 
 on the frightful state of mind and heart of one 
 Thomas Darlington, said young man would not 
 hold himself responsible for what might ensue. 
 One of the consequences, it was darkly hinted, 
 might be a visit to Washington and the seizure 
 of the young lady in question, or it might be the 
 deprivation to the world of a rising young civil 
 engineer, who had no idea that life was worth 
 living without some sign from Miss Marsh that 
 she entertained for him somewhat more interest 
 and sentiment than were expressed in her com 
 munications. 
 
 " Dorothy," said Mrs. Marsh that evening, " I 
 observe a good many letters from Morganville, 
 apparently from the same person." 
 
 " Do you, mother? " asked Dorothy in great 
 surprise. 
 
 " I do, and I should like to inquire who is writ 
 ing to you so frequently." 
 
 " Oh," said Dorothy lightly, " Tom Darlington 
 sends me gossipy letters about the happenings out 
 there." 
 
 "Tom Darlington?"
 
 A SUITABLE ALLIANCE 303 
 
 " Yes, mother. You remember Tom Darling 
 ton, of course? " 
 
 " Some kind of a railroad employe, isn t he 
 a fireman or a brakeman or something like that." 
 
 " He s a civil engineer and he has a great fu 
 ture," retorted Dorothy indignantly. Instantly 
 she regretted what she had said, for Mrs. Marsh 
 raised her eyebrows, and smiled a little cold smile 
 that warned Dorothy that something unpleasant 
 was coming. 
 
 " Indeed! " she said, and there was a world 
 of meaning in the word. 
 
 Dorothy was silent. She felt herself blushing 
 and she was annoyed at her mother s tone. 
 
 " I trust you are not so foolish as to think 
 seriously of this young man," Mrs. Marsh con 
 tinued. 
 
 "Why, mother!" Dorothy protested warmly. 
 " What an idea ! Tom is no more to me than 
 than well, than any one else," she concluded 
 lamely. 
 
 " He must be nothing to you, Dorothy. Up to 
 the present I have not spoken to you of your 
 future; but the time has come when I must speak 
 plainly. It is your duty to yourself, to me and 
 to your father to ally yourself with one of the 
 best families in this city. Our future is here. 
 Your father is to be a senator, and he doubtless 
 will continue in the Senate until he is called to 
 greater responsibilities. In a year or two you 
 must marry. When you do, you must carefully 
 select your husband from your own rank in life,
 
 3 04 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 with a view to your own advancement and further 
 social progress." 
 
 " But, mother, that wasn t the reason you mar 
 ried father! " 
 
 " The cases are not parallel," Mrs. Marsh re 
 plied stiffly. " I was a country girl and had no 
 social knowledge. You are a recognised member 
 of good society here in Washington. You must 
 maintain your position or exalt it by marriage, and 
 not lower it by a foolish alliance." 
 
 Dorothy had expected and dreaded this inter 
 view. Her mother s efforts to place her in con 
 junction with the senator s son, young Wheeldon, 
 were so apparent that she knew he was the man 
 Mrs. Marsh had chosen for her. She didn t want 
 to marry yet, and she especially did not want to 
 marry young Wheeldon. 
 
 " What do you mean, mother? " she asked. 
 
 " I mean that there are several admirable and 
 available young men here, any one of whom would 
 be a suitable husband for you. I would look with 
 favour, for instance, on an alliance between you 
 and Mr. Wheeldon, whose family is one of the 
 most exclusive in official society and who is rich 
 and in every way fitted to be your husband." 
 
 " But I don t want to marry Mr. Wheeldon and 
 he doesn t want to marry me." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh smiled her cold smile again. 
 " That is a matter of no importance," she said. 
 " If you do your part I will do mine, and the mar 
 riage can be arranged." 
 
 Dorothy s face paled and then reddened. Her
 
 A SUITABLE ALLIANCE 305 
 
 heart beat wildly. " Oh, mother, how can you, 
 how can you! " she cried and bursting into tears 
 she ran from the room. 
 
 That night she talked to her father. 
 " Popsie," she said, " mother insists on marrying 
 me off to Wilbur Wheeldon." 
 
 "What does he say about it?" asked Marsh. 
 
 " I don t suppose he knows it yet." 
 
 "And what do you think about it?" 
 
 " I hate it." 
 
 " Well, it may be that if the two high contract 
 ing parties are in a state of complete ignorance on 
 the one hand, and indignant protest on the other, 
 the third high contracting party, your mother, can 
 be circumvented." 
 
 " Oh," cried Dorothy, throwing her arms 
 round his neck, " will you tell mother not to do 
 it?" 
 
 " No," replied Marsh, smiling, " I shall not 
 promise to do exactly that, but I ll try in other 
 ways to help prevent it. Only you mustn t tell. 
 Promise now." 
 
 " I promise," said Dorothy, and she kissed him 
 again. 
 
 Two days later Tom Darlington received a let 
 ter from Miss Marsh in which he discerned some 
 slight evidences of interest on the part of the 
 writer in himself and his career, and his world 
 became rosy with hope.
 
 XXVIII 
 
 A LEGAL RETAINER 
 
 I 
 
 was to be a special session of 
 the new Congress to convene on 
 March fifteenth to revise the tariff. 
 This meant that Marsh, after he fin 
 ished his congressional duties in the Congress that 
 ended on March fourth, would be sworn in as 
 senator for the special session and move over to 
 the other end of the Capitol. He was busy 
 on the District of Columbia Committee, on which 
 he had moved up to fourth place from the top 
 on the majority side, and was working hard. 
 
 About two weeks before the end of the session 
 he met his banker at a dinner. " Mr. Marsh," 
 said the banker, " I wish you would drop in to 
 see me in the morning, if you can conveniently." 
 
 Marsh went. The banker received him cor 
 dially and took him into the private office. They 
 chatted for a moment about the special session, 
 the tariff and other legislative matters, and then 
 the banker said: "You are still on the District 
 of Columbia Committee, are you not? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I wonder if you have had occasion to look 
 into the merits of those several street extensions 
 that are projected." 
 
 306
 
 A LEGAL RETAINER 307 
 
 " I have," replied Marsh. 
 
 " You favour them, I trust? " 
 
 " No," Marsh replied, " I do not. It seems 
 to me these particular extensions are unneces 
 sary and merely proposed to benefit real estate in 
 this vicinity a job, in short." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Marsh," protested the banker, " I 
 assure you the extensions are demanded by the 
 growth of the city. I had hoped you would 
 favour them." 
 
 " I shall require more proof of the necessity 
 for them before I vote for them," said Marsh. 
 
 " Indeed," and the banker s face hardened. 
 He reached into a drawer in his desk, took out a 
 paper and said, tapping with the paper on the 
 edge of the desk to emphasise his words: "It 
 is possible I can give you that proof." 
 
 " I shall be glad to consider it." 
 
 The banker handed him the paper. It was a 
 single sheet containing a list of names. It was 
 headed " Shareholders in the Atlas Land Com 
 pany." 
 
 Marsh felt the paper tremble a little as he read 
 it. His own name was fourth on the list, and he 
 was credited with owning one hundred shares. 
 He saw on the paper the names of Paxton and 
 various other influential men in the House and 
 Senate, saw those names through a sort of a 
 blur. 
 
 " What has this to do with those street exten 
 sions? " he asked. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Marsh," said the banker suavely,
 
 3 o8 THE PRICE OE PLACE 
 
 " it has everything to do with it. The lands 
 owned by the Atlas Company are to be benefited." 
 
 " Then " and Marsh gained control of him 
 self by a strong effort " of course I cannot vote 
 for it." 
 
 The banker smiled that smile that only em 
 braced his lips. His eyes were cold and hard. 
 
 " I am sorry to hear you say that," he said. 
 " I had hoped you would see your way clear to 
 vote for it. You befriended the street-car exten 
 sion into that section, you recall." 
 
 " But the Atlas Company wasn t interested 
 then, Paxton told me." 
 
 " Not directly, perhaps, but sufficiently, I 
 imagine, to make that vote of yours difficult of 
 explanation if the matter should become public." 
 
 " Are you trying to threaten me? " Marsh de 
 manded hotly. 
 
 " Not at all, my dear sir, not at all. Who am 
 I that I should try to threaten an influential mem 
 ber of the House of Representatives and a senator- 
 elect? Not at all. I merely desire to call these 
 facts to your attention. By the way, I took the 
 liberty of having our bookkeeper make up a state 
 ment of your account for you. You have not sent 
 in your book in some time. I observe some heavy 
 deposits now and then." 
 
 Marsh jumped from his chair. " What do you 
 mean?" he asked hoarsely. "What do you 
 mean? " 
 
 " Nothing." The banker was calm and cour 
 teous. " I thought you might like the informa-
 
 X LEGAL RETAINER 309 
 
 tion. We plan to have the books of our cus 
 tomers balanced every three months and yours has 
 not been in for a year. That is all, I assure you." 
 
 Marsh was red with rage, but said nothing. 
 There didn t seem to be anything for him to say. 
 
 " And," continued the banker, " while the 
 banker s relation to his client is most confidential 
 and sacred, at the same time that very relation 
 intrusts him necessarily with a full knowledge of 
 such transactions and cheques as may pass through 
 his bank. You appreciate that, of course?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Well, then, Mr. Marsh, I am informed as to 
 the resources of your revenue. I do not desire 
 to be harsh with you, but I am informed also, as 
 you know, of the great benefit that will accrue to 
 you by these street extensions. I am interested 
 in these. It is not necessary for you to vote for 
 them. Their passage has been arranged, both 
 through the committee and the Congress. The 
 matter comes up in committee to-morrow morning 
 for final action. I trust you may be delayed and 
 not be able to attend the committee meeting. 
 That is all. Isn t the weather remarkable for this 
 time of year? Not going, are you? Well, good- 
 morning." 
 
 Marsh walked out in a daze. He took a turn 
 round the White House ellipse to think it out. 
 The banker, of course, knew where his outside 
 money had been obtained and how. He knew 
 that miserable mistake of the Atlas Land Com 
 pany. Marsh did not for a moment think the
 
 3 io THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 banker would expose him, for that would mean 
 the banker s exposure and the exposure of others 
 high up in Congress; but he felt he was in a way 
 in the power of the banker. It would be fatal 
 if one of the opposition newspapers, for example, 
 should get wind of his transactions, small as they 
 were. It would ruin him as a senator. Anyhow 
 it was an affair of little importance. The street 
 extensions undoubtedly were needed. Washing 
 ton was growing rapidly and in that direction. 
 He had been amazed, last time he drove out that 
 way, to see the rows and rows of new houses that 
 were going up. Perhaps he had not taken a broad 
 view of the necessity for the extensions. He 
 would think it over carefully. 
 
 He thought it over with such decided results 
 that he didn t go to the committee meeting and the 
 extensions were recommended without protest. 
 Instead of going to the meeting he went to see 
 Senator Paxton. 
 
 " Howdy, senator," said Paxton, as he entered 
 the room. Marsh thrilled with pleasure at the 
 salutation. The title of senator was yet so new 
 to him that every time he heard it coupled with 
 his own name he straightened up and threw out 
 his chest. 
 
 Marsh jumped right into the matter he had in 
 mind. " Say," he said, " that banker of ours took 
 a fall out of me yesterday." 
 
 " What did he .do ? Call a loan ? " 
 
 " No, but he intimated pretty plainly if I
 
 A LEGAL RETAINER 311 
 
 didn t do certain things he might make trouble 
 for me." 
 
 " Oh, indeed," said Paxton, looking much sur 
 prised. " Not really?" 
 
 " Exactly that. He wanted me to stay away 
 from the District Committee and not oppose some 
 street extensions." 
 
 Well, where s the harm in that? He merely 
 asked a favour, didn t he?" 
 
 "No," Marsh replied. "He demanded it." 
 
 " Jim," said Paxton, whirling round in his chair, 
 " you ve been here long enough to know that we re 
 trying unselfishly to make Washington the most 
 beautiful city in the world. And we re going to 
 do it. Where s the harm if a few of us, while 
 conferring these great benefits, confer a few on 
 ourselves as a slight recompense for our labours, 
 especially when the improvements we advocate are 
 all in the line of a more liveable and a more beau 
 tiful city?" 
 
 " If it comes to that I don t suppose there is 
 any harm, but I didn t like the way he did it." 
 
 " Oh, forget it ! Forget it ! That conscience 
 of yours is set on a hair-trigger. There ll be a 
 dividend pretty soon from that Atlas investment. 
 By the way, did you do what he asked you to? " 
 
 " Yes," confessed Marsh. 
 
 Well, then, why all this fuss? It s over and 
 no harm s done. There s a man coming in here 
 who wants to meet you." 
 
 Marsh read a paper for half an hour and then
 
 312 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 a tall, pompous man came in. Senator Paxton 
 introduced him as Mr. William R. Elzey, of New 
 York, receiver for a system of railroads in the 
 Southwest. Mr. Elzey was glad to know Marsh. 
 He had heard about him and had admired his 
 speeches, not only for their oratorical effective 
 ness, but because of the profound grasp of the law 
 they showed. They discussed legal questions, 
 and Mr. Elzey proved to have much familiarity 
 with the law as well as with big business affairs. 
 
 After this general conversation had continued 
 for a time Senator Paxton said: " Elzey, I under 
 stand you desire to retain Senator Marsh s serv 
 ices in a purely legal way? " 
 
 " Yes," Elzey replied, and he began a long, 
 complicated explanation of how he could use 
 Marsh in a legal capacity as one of the law 
 yers for him in the affairs of his important 
 receivership. He discussed the matter with 
 Marsh for an hour. Marsh was eager. This 
 gave him an opportunity for making good fees 
 at the legitimate practice of his profession. He 
 went into the situation thoroughly, concluded 
 to take hold of it, and Elzey gave him a cheque for 
 $10,000 as a retainer. The arrangement was 
 that Marsh was to have this retainer and fifteen 
 hundred dollars a month and expenses. Elzey 
 thought there would not be much necessity for 
 travelling until after Congress adjourned, but he 
 wanted Marsh to represent him in various capac 
 ities, both in Washington and in New York, en 
 tirely as a lawyer. He made that very clear.
 
 A LEGAL RETAINER 313 
 
 Neither Marsh nor the senator could see any ob 
 jection, as there was nothing in the receivership 
 that would come before Congress, and Marsh was 
 much elated when he shook hands with Elzey and 
 left him to talk further with Paxton. 
 
 " Curious chap that man Marsh," said Paxton 
 to Elzey. " He s a wonder, mentally, so far as 
 big questions go, but the practical side of him is 
 largely undeveloped. He will be a tower of 
 strength to us over here when he gets into the 
 Senate, because he has the gifts to make him in 
 valuable as an advocate for us, to get out in front 
 and explain plausibly to the people what we have 
 in mind. He is one of the most convincing 
 orators I ever heard, and he has a reputation for 
 being upright that will be a great aid to us. He 
 could make a lot of trouble if he were inclined 
 to act on his real impulses, but we have been suc 
 cessful thus far in subduing those impulses. 
 [We ve got to have him. Dobson is getting old 
 and has all the money he needs, and he s talking 
 about retiring. There isn t a man in sight to be 
 the organisation mouthpiece on the Senate floor 
 except Marsh, and that s why we had you come 
 over here and offer him that retainer. You fel 
 lows need him as much as we do." 
 
 " I think he can be made extremely useful," 
 said Elzey pompously. 
 
 " Surest thing you know," Paxton replied. " If 
 that wife of his persists in her social flight, and 
 we can keep him full of the idea that both her 
 efforts and what we can do for him will land him
 
 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 far along In power and reputation and wealth, 
 it s easy as eating bread and butter. He is greedy 
 for power and influence and fame. His wife has 
 him buffaloed into thinking her social game helps 
 him. He needs money, and he has been filled to 
 the ears with the information that the only way 
 to get along is to be regular and play the game 
 with the big players. We ve pretty nearly landed 
 him, and he will be a most useful asset to our 
 crowd." 
 
 Marsh told Mrs. Marsh with great glee of his 
 big retainer and his engagement by Elzey. Mrs. 
 Marsh was delighted. She said she had been cer 
 tain Marsh could utilise his talents and his legal 
 knowledge if he was of that mind. 
 
 A few days later Marsh met Byron. Congress 
 was ending in the usual confusion and tumult. 
 There were early meetings and late sessions and 
 the jam of business was terrific. The newer mem 
 bers had gloomy forebodings that the session 
 would end with a lot of the big appropriation 
 bills not acted upon; but the old hands, who had 
 been through this same mess many times, pro 
 ceeded calmly, untangling things skilfully and 
 shoving through measures one after another, car 
 rying millions and millions of dollars, with but 
 limited debate but with exact knowledge of what 
 they were doing in each instance. It was merely 
 another exemplification of the expert working of 
 the machine. 
 
 " Marsh," said Bryon, " now that you are going
 
 A LEGAL RETAINER 315 
 
 over to the Senate there s one thing I d advise 
 you to do." 
 
 " What s that? " asked Marsh. 
 
 " Go into caucus with yourself and determine 
 on your course of action. Intrinsically you are 
 all right. At bottom you are sound, but this gang 
 will get you if they haven t got you already 
 if you don t take a brace and look at things 
 squarely." 
 
 What do you mean? " 
 
 " I mean that you are playing this game from 
 the angle of the organisation, that you are getting 
 into that frame of mind where you think it is 
 proper for the organisation to control the people 
 instead of having the people control the organisa 
 tion. You are coming to think as these robbers 
 think, to act with them, to let them use you instead 
 of standing up and fighting them. They re the 
 greatest bunch of grafters the world has ever 
 known grafters in a big sense, not door-mat 
 purloiners, you understand. They utilise the 
 organisation for their own political party and per 
 sonal ends, and they need you to stand up and tell 
 the people that it s all right and that all is quiet 
 and honest along the Potomac. 
 
 " I don t mean, Marsh, that most of the men in 
 Congress are not honest, for they are. It has 
 come to be the fashion to laugh at Congress, to 
 scoff at it, to jeer at it; but you know and I know, 
 from our service here, that the aggregate wisdom 
 of these men is great and that their real motives
 
 3 i6 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 are patriotic. They are swept along by the cry 
 of loyalty to party, and they have allowed a gang 
 of men to control an organisation that has been 
 falsely held up to be the party itself instead of 
 the creature of the party. They have been fed 
 with the idea that the highest attribute of a legis 
 lator, under our party system of government, is 
 to be regular, and instead of being voters they 
 are voted. 
 
 " What this gang you are training with is trying 
 to do is to individualise the party, instead of keep 
 ing it as the party of the people. It isn t so hard 
 as you think. The people are busy, and these men 
 are apparently working for the good of the party. 
 Having delegated their political authority, the 
 people are looking out for their own affairs. 
 Thus by buying those they have to buy and by 
 cajoling those they can cajole, and by appealing 
 to the fetish of party loyalty and regularity, these 
 few men in the Senate and the House and their 
 associates throughout the country have arrogated 
 to themselves all the powers of the party. They 
 are the party. Their organisation is supreme and 
 the people merely register their desires. They 
 have been a long time building up their machine, 
 but it is about perfected now and they have 
 grabbed you as a necessary feature of it. You 
 have great ability. You can do much, if you will, 
 but what you do, I am afraid, will be done at the 
 direction of these men instead of your own voli 
 tion. If they haven t landed you, Marsh, they 
 have hooked you, and I know what the bait was.
 
 A LEGAL RETAINER 317 
 
 Shake out the hook before it is too late, for as 
 sure as you are standing there, Marsh, this whole 
 affair will be blown up one of these days and you 
 will all go down in the ruins. The people will 
 revolt as soon as they know the facts, and you 
 can help the few of us who are trying to tell those 
 facts to them, and do good for all, if you will, 
 instead of working in with these robbers and 
 doing what you think is good, but what will really 
 be harmful to yourself." 
 
 Marsh laughed. " You ve got it pretty bad, 
 Billy," he said. 
 
 Byron put out his hand. " Pardon me for 
 being so serious," he said, " but I feel deeply on 
 these matters, and I hate to see a man of your 
 parts going to hell in a hanging basket."
 
 " ASK ME AGAIN " 
 
 ALTHOUGH Marsh laughed at Byron s 
 warning, he knew there was truth in 
 what he had said, and he resolved to 
 be independent of organisation influ 
 ences in the Senate, where he was secure for six 
 years, and where he felt he could become so im 
 portant that he could be re-elected even if the 
 organisation opposed him. He would rely on. 
 the people and he would be the people s friend. 
 
 The special session opened. There was noth 
 ing for the Senate to do, for under the Constitu 
 tion all revenue bills must originate in the House 
 of Representatives, and the tariff bill must be in 
 troduced and passed there before the Senate could 
 take up the matter, except in a preliminary way, in 
 the Finance Committee. Marsh, of course, was 
 not a member of the Finance Committee. He 
 was too new for that. He had been given sev 
 eral committee places, some good, and the chair 
 manship of a small committee, in order that he 
 might have his perquisites of clerk and messenger 
 and other bits of pap the dignified Senator values 
 so highly. Paxton was on the Finance Com 
 mittee. 
 
 3 S
 
 "ASK ME AGAIN" 319 
 
 The new session of Congress provided a sup 
 plemental social season and Mrs. Marsh con 
 tinued her activities. Her musical mornings had 
 been a success. She was continually in the social 
 columns of the newspapers, and Dorothy was re 
 fusing a few invitations here and there, for Mrs. 
 Marsh felt she had arrived at that distinction 
 where she need not go everywhere but could 
 choose what occasions her presence would honour. 
 Elzey had submitted one or two intricate legal 
 propositions to Marsh, and he spent most of his 
 time on those, while waiting for the actual work 
 to begin in the Senate. Also he familiarised him 
 self to some extent with tariff matters, especially 
 as they related to his own state, and had much 
 correspondence on the subject of wool, beet sugar 
 and other agricultural products. He was a pro 
 tectionist, of course, but felt that there might ad 
 vantageously be reductions in certain schedules. 
 
 One day he presented his view to Senator Pax- 
 ton. " Don t get that bug into your head, Jim," 
 Paxton advised. " The protective tariff is the 
 mainstay of our country. Also," and his eyes 
 twinkled, " it is the mainstay of yours truly and 
 many of my associates, and of the organisation 
 that controls our great and glorious party our 
 Grand Old Party, as we affectionately refer to it 
 for purposes of public consumption. I suppose 
 there will come a day when there will be a tariff 
 bill that is not political but is economic and scien 
 tific, but I hope not while I am in the Senate. 
 That would be a calamity, Jim. If we failed to
 
 320 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 nurture and protect and otherwise conserve our 
 infant industries, how in blazes could our infant 
 industries nurture and protect and otherwise con 
 serve us? It will be a sad day for us if they take 
 the tariff out of politics or take politics out of the 
 tariff. However, I doubt if there is any imme 
 diate danger; " and he laughed. 
 
 Mr. Elzey came to town. " Senator Marsh," 
 he asked in a most dignified manner, " do you ever 
 take any interest in financial matters? " 
 
 " In what way? " asked Marsh. 
 
 " I mean do you ever do anything in the 
 Street?" 
 
 " Occasionally," said Marsh, wondering what 
 he had in mind. 
 
 " Well, if I were you I would buy a few shares 
 of Q. R. & D. There is likely to be a movement 
 in that stock soon." 
 
 Marsh spoke to Rambo about it. " Who told 
 you?" asked Rambo. 
 
 " A chap named William R. Elzey." 
 
 " Let s go to it! " exclaimed Rambo. " He s 
 one of the big men in the Street, director in I don t 
 know how many corporations. How did you 
 come to know him? " 
 
 " I am doing some business for him," said 
 Marsh. 
 
 " You don t tell me," said Rambo in evident 
 admiration. " Well, you certainly are in soft if 
 you have that man on your staff." 
 
 They bought some Q. R. & D. on joint account, 
 and made enough out of it to enable Marsh to buy
 
 "ASK ME AGAIN" 321 
 
 Mrs. Marsh the electric automobile she had been 
 Wanting for some time. Also Marsh paid some 
 bills that had been hanging over. Two or three 
 times after that Elzey told Marsh when to buy 
 stocks, and Marsh found Elzey always knew 
 what he was talking about. Moreover, Elzey 
 told Marsh when to sell each time, so he lost noth 
 ing by holding on. Marsh came to have a good 
 standing in the offices of the principal brokers in 
 the city and carried an account there. He put in 
 his orders by telephone. 
 
 " Jim," said Senator Paxton to Marsh about 
 two weeks before the tariff bill reached the Sen 
 ate, " brush up on steel and lumber and wool and 
 the chemical schedule." 
 
 "Why?" asked Marsh. 
 
 " Oh, we re going to have some trouble with 
 these low-tariff people and we ll need some 
 speeches from you for public consumption. Great 
 opportunity for you, my boy! Great oppor 
 tunity! " 
 
 Marsh studied steel and lumber and wool and 
 the chemical schedule. He had a quick mind, 
 knew the rudiments of the tariff, and he felt he 
 would be able to cope with any opposition senator, 
 and show to the public that the wages of our work- 
 ingmen and the prosperity of our people, as well 
 as the very lives of these industries themselves, 
 depended on the retention of a proper measure of 
 protection on them. Paxton thought the old 
 rates or rates a shade higher would suffice. 
 
 When the bill reached the Senate there was long
 
 322 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 debate. Marsh was put to the front and acquitted 
 himself creditably. One day Elzey came to see 
 him. 
 
 " Senator Marsh," he said, " I trust you have 
 given consideration to the absolute necessity of a 
 higher tariff on steel products." 
 
 "Higher?" asked Marsh. 
 
 " Yes. The industry must perish unless we get 
 a higher measure of protection against foreign 
 competition." 
 
 " But," said Marsh, " the Steel Trust sells steel 
 rails in England, delivered, for several dollars less 
 a ton than it sells steel rails at home." 
 
 " Oh," said Elzey, waving his hand, " that is 
 an argument of our enemies. It has nothing to 
 do with the case. I am thinking of the American 
 workingman and the American consumer, not of 
 the foreign consumer. I shall hope to hear a 
 speech from you on the subject advocating a higher 
 duty, or rather sustaining the action in that direc 
 tion I understand the Finance Committee will pro 
 pose." 
 
 Marsh wondered why Elzey was so solicitous 
 about steel; and recalled that he was a consumer 
 of steel rails in his capacity as receiver operating 
 the bankrupt railroad for which Marsh was an 
 attorney. He looked in the Directory of Direc 
 tors, and discovered that William R. Elzey was a 
 director in twenty-seven corporations, fifteen of 
 them corporations that had direct tariff interests, 
 and were infant industries crying at the door of
 
 "ASK ME AGAIN" 323 
 
 the Congress for protection from the cruel attacks 
 of foreign competition and of foreign labour. 
 
 There was a long-drawn fight in the Senate in 
 which Marsh was used skilfully. The organisa 
 tion got what it wanted, except in such cases as it 
 compromised in the conference where the bill 
 went after it had passed the Senate in order that 
 the difference between the Senate and the House 
 might be composed. These compromises had 
 been decided upon before the bill w"as introduced 
 at all and the duties on the articles compromised 
 were fixed as they had been fixed merely for trad 
 ing purposes, and in order that the Senate con 
 ferees might give in to the House on points the 
 Senate leaders long ago decided to give in on, and 
 thus protect the points they deemed vital to their 
 scheme of profitable protection profitable to 
 themselves. Marsh s speech on steel was highly 
 complimented by Elzey, who expressed his great 
 gratification and told Marsh of another good thing 
 in Wall Street. 
 
 Congress adjourned early in August. Mrs. 
 Marsh and Dorothy had returned to Morganville 
 early in June. Tom Darlington renewed his at 
 tentions to Dorothy, and was one day smiled upon, 
 when he was preposterously happy, and the next 
 day treated with cool indifference, when he was 
 preposterously depressed. He was a mercurial 
 young man, was Mr. Darlington, but he was tre 
 mendously in love with Dorothy. Besides, he had 
 had a raise in salary, and was sure he was getting
 
 324 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 enough to marry on, for, as he had often heard, 
 two can live as cheaply as one. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh was too clever to oppose Darling 
 ton openly. She knew the usual result of paren 
 tal opposition in such cases, but she had invited 
 some young people, including Wheeldon, to an 
 elaborate camping party in the mountains, which 
 she was to chaperon, and she had hopes that she 
 might engineer a proposal. Tom Darlington was 
 not invited. 
 
 Marsh went to Morganville and opened his 
 law office. He was tired, for the weather in 
 Washington had been atrociously hot, but he had 
 a few important matters to whip into shape for 
 Elzey. He was in a comfortable frame of mind, 
 for he had considerable money ahead and all his 
 bills were paid. Mrs. Marsh was much pleased 
 at his improved financial standing. 
 
 The camping party was a social success. Most 
 of those invited from Washington came out, in 
 cluding Wheeldon, who needed a change of air. 
 Matrimonially, however, the party did not amount 
 to much. Mrs. Marsh did her best to pair Dor 
 othy off with Wheeldon on every excursion of 
 exploration, every shooting trip, every horseback 
 ride; and she manoeuvred to have her at his side 
 each night when the young people sat around the 
 romantic campfire. She watched the two care 
 fully, but much to her chagrin could discover no 
 signs of affection, or of anything more than 
 a good, live companionship. She resolved to 
 make sterner efforts next winter in Washington,
 
 11 ASK ME AGAIN " 325 
 
 and contrived to cut the party short by a week on 
 account of illness, which she regretted, but which 
 of course could not be helped. 
 
 ; I could see no sense of keeping up the ex 
 pense, inasmuch as neither Dorothy nor that stupid 
 young Wheeldon would fall in love," she said to 
 Marsh when she returned. 
 
 "Fall in love?" repeated Marsh. "Surely 
 you didn t think you could force a love match out 
 of it." 
 
 " You can never tell," she replied. " Some 
 times romance crops out in unexpected places. 
 But next winter it shall be brought about." 
 
 " P^or Heaven s sake, Molly," protested Marsh, 
 " give Dorothy a chance. She doesn t want to 
 marry that young squirt." 
 
 " She doesn t know what she does want, nor do 
 you," said Mrs. Marsh. " But I know what is 
 best for her and for us." 
 
 Tom Darlington had wandered about Morgan- 
 ville during the camping party like a lost soul. 
 Life had no joy for him, for he was sure Dorothy 
 would come back engaged to somebody. He 
 didn t know which one of the young men it would 
 be, and he had visions of all of them proposing 
 to her in relays, so obsessed was he of her charms. 
 One moment he was certain one of them would 
 win her, the next he assured himself that she 
 would repulse them all. He brooded over the 
 situation until his brain refused to work, and he 
 took long, lonely rides in his motorboat, relieving
 
 326 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 his feelings by driving that inoffensive structure 
 to the full limit of its speed. 
 
 As a return for the camping entertainment, 
 which had proved a very enjoyable outing, the 
 girls in the party invited Dorothy to come east in 
 the latter part of August and join a houseparty at 
 Watch Hill. Mrs. Marsh was delighted, because 
 young Wheeldon was to be one of the party. 
 When he learned of these plans Tom Darlington 
 contemplated suicide and other rash things, but 
 finally compromised on asking Dorothy to take a 
 ride with him in his motorboat. 
 
 Dorothy did not tell her mother of this invita 
 tion, which she had accepted with alacrity much to 
 Tom s surprise. Tom proved himself a moody 
 and distraught companion. He talked little and 
 tinkered much with his engine. 
 
 " You are not very amiable," pouted Dorothy. 
 
 " Who could be amiable with you running 
 round after that young fool of a Wheeldon?" 
 inquired Tom sulkily. 
 
 " Why, Tom Darlington, that s a story. I 
 haven t been running round after Mr. Wheeldon. 
 We re just good friends, that s all." 
 
 "Looks like it, doesn t it?" exclaimed Tom; 
 " with you going camping with him, and now go 
 ing off to some party in Rhode Island where he 
 will be constantly with you." 
 
 " I couldn t help going camping with him and 
 you know it," protested Dorothy. " Mamma 
 fixed that up. And why shouldn t I go down 
 East and have some fun, I should like to know? "
 
 " ASK ME AGAIN " 327 
 
 " Why not? " inquired Tom with elaborate sar 
 casm. " Of course I don t count. And why 
 should I when there s a millionaire s son round? " 
 
 " Don t talk that way, Tom," pleaded Dor 
 othy, " you know it isn t so." 
 
 " How do I know it isn t so? " he asked, seeing 
 his advantage and pressing it. " What encour 
 agement have you ever given me, I d like to 
 know?" 
 
 Dorothy did not give him any answer for some 
 moments, then looking up at him shyly, with eyes 
 that smiled into his, she put her little hand into his 
 big grimy one. " Do you want to marry me, 
 Tom? " she asked. 
 
 "Do I want to marry you?" shouted Tom. 
 " Do I want to marry you? Why, Dorothy, I ve 
 asked you a hundred times." 
 
 " Well," she laughed, blushing and moving off 
 a little, " why not ask me again? " 
 
 In one bound Tom was on his knees besides her, 
 both her hands crushed in his, his honest eyes 
 pleading up at her. "Will you?" he said. 
 "Will you, sweetheart? Oh, I love you, Dor 
 othy. I love you 1 I love you 1 " 
 
 And then, because he read her answer in her 
 eyes, he kissed her. 
 
 Fifteen minutes later the boat ran up against 
 the bank and grounded there. But the young 
 people in the stern sat on undisturbed.
 
 XXX 
 
 THE WEDDING 
 
 DOROTHY was the first to realise that 
 it was growing late. For the next 
 , half hour Tom struggled in mud and 
 ; , slime, his shoes and stockings off and 
 his trousers rolled up to his knees, to get the boat s 
 nose off the shore. She had bumped on firmly, 
 although the engine had been at low speed 
 and the boat going slowly when she ran ashore, 
 and for some time Tom shoved and pulled with 
 no result. Dorothy watched his struggles with 
 concern at times and laughing unconcern at other 
 times. Finally the boat was afloat again, and 
 Tom headed for home at top speed, for it was 
 getting late. 
 
 On the way they planned their future. Their 
 engagement, they decided, should be kept secret 
 until Dorothy came of age, and then they would 
 be married whether Mrs. Marsh consented or not. 
 Dorothy saw Tom twice more before she left for 
 Watch Hill and promised faithfully to write to 
 him every day. 
 
 "Write something," pleaded Tom; "even if 
 it s just I love you, it will help." 
 
 But Dorothy, who liked to write, did better 
 328
 
 THE WEDDING 329 
 
 than that. She sent Tom long letters, full of com 
 ment on the fashionable affairs she attended and 
 the fashionable folk she saw, but always there was 
 a last paragraph that Tom read first; in which she 
 told him sweetly and sincerely that she loved him. 
 And young Darlington spent all his spare time 
 writing to Dorothy. He threw aside the news 
 and gossip of Morganville as unworthy of his at 
 tention, and devoted himself to impressing on her 
 the depth and enduring qualities of his love. He 
 used up every simile for eternity and durability, 
 and every word of endearment that he could think 
 of, and ransacked love stories for new terms in 
 which to express his adoration. One day Dorothy 
 was astonished to receive a transcription of the 
 love letter in Marion Crawford s Dr. Claudius, 
 modified to suit Morganville and Darlington con 
 ditions, but breathing all the passion of that re 
 markable epistle. Tom was putting his whole 
 soul into his writing, as well as the souls of other 
 writers, and Dorothy thought his letters wonder 
 ful. She decided that when they were married 
 he must try to write a novel. 
 
 Young Wheeldon was at the Watch Hill house- 
 party, but quite unconscious of Mrs. Marsh s de 
 signs on him. He took Dorothy as his partner 
 when it was his turn, and was polite and affable, 
 but nothing more. Dorothy went with one young 
 man and another and had a good time. She 
 was in Morganville for a few weeks before she 
 and her mother went to Washington to open the 
 house, and spent most of her time devising ways
 
 330 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 and means to see Tom, which was becoming more 
 and more difficult. Mrs. Marsh had suspicions 
 concerning him and she voiced them once or twice, 
 but Dorothy fibbed prettily, and did her best to 
 put her mother s mind at rest. She did not quite 
 succeed, however, and Mrs. Marsh left for Wash 
 ington determined to do her utmost to push the 
 Wheeldon alliance. 
 
 The session passed quickly and rather quietly. 
 Mrs. Marsh gave several distinguished entertain 
 ments, and succeeded in pruning a few more unde 
 sirables from her list and adding a few more 
 desirables. Marsh made two great speeches up 
 holding organisation contentions, and was a most 
 conspicuous senator despite his short service. 
 Ordinarily a new senator is not active or consid 
 ered of much importance for a year or two after 
 his advent in that dignified upper house, and 
 usually the older senators resent it if he is; but it 
 was different in the case of Marsh and had been 
 from the start. The organisation had to have 
 Marsh, for they needed his talents as an advocate, 
 the old wheel-horse Dodson, who had been put 
 up for the work Marsh was doing for ten or fif 
 teen years, having retired. So Marsh, instead of 
 remaining in obscurity for his year or two, came to 
 the front at once, thereby gaining much newspaper 
 acclaim as a rising young statesman who had risen 
 through sheer ability as soon as he had an op 
 portunity. 
 
 Marsh realised perfectly well that he would 
 have been one of the rank and file for two or three
 
 THE WEDDING 331 
 
 sessions at least without organisation support, 
 albeit he might have forced himself to the front 
 on independent lines, for every senator can do 
 exactly what he pleases in that regard. How 
 ever, he liked the comment. It pleased him to 
 hear some one say: " There goes Senator Marsh, 
 the great orator," as he passed a group of tourists. 
 And he took his orders and played his part and 
 reaped his rewards. He was well in the con 
 fidence of the leaders. The Senate oligarchy, 
 headed by one great, powerful, masterful man, 
 had five other members. Next to these came the 
 men like Marsh, who were of but not exactly in 
 that governing board, and after these the senators 
 who voted as they were told and demanded their 
 share of whatever was going. 
 
 Marsh had supreme faith in his abilities, and in 
 the place he could command for himself, and 
 looked forward to being the real leader, or, if not 
 that, at least to having a place in the innermost 
 circle. Elzey was liberal with market informa 
 tion. The Atlas Land Company paid a good divi 
 dend. Paxton engineered one or two other 
 schemes and Marsh made money, and began the 
 recess with forty or fifty thousand dollars clear. 
 He wanted to be rich. He wanted to be inde 
 pendent. He tried to argue himself into the feel 
 ing that when he had enough money he could 
 be Independent, but he knew better, for every 
 dollar he made was an added link in the chain 
 that bound him to the leaders who were using him 
 for their own purposes.
 
 332 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 Mrs. Marsh pursued Wheeldon assiduously. 
 She set snares of all sorts for him, but that wary 
 young man was not to be caught, nor did Dorothy 
 help her mother in the slightest degree. She was 
 polite to Wheeldon, just as she was polite to all 
 other amiable young men, and every day she wrote 
 at least one letter to Tom Darlington. 
 
 Late that summer Mrs. Marsh had her suspi 
 cions concerning Tom Darlington confirmed. Be 
 ing a wise and clever woman, she said nothing, 
 for she knew that if she openly opposed the match 
 the probabilities were that Dorothy and Tom 
 would run away and get married, and that was the 
 last thing she wanted. She waited until she re 
 turned to Washington in the fall, when she 
 mapped out a new line of campaign. She would 
 drop Wheeldon, she decided, and centre her ef 
 forts on a young Englishman named Vickers, of 
 good family and with money, who was spending 
 the winter in Washington and had the advantage 
 of Embassy introductions. The Englishman was 
 slow of wit, and he was amazed at the attentions 
 showered upon him by Mrs. Marsh, who exerted 
 herself to be most attractive whenever he was in 
 her company. Dorothy for her part paid scant 
 attention to him or to her mother s change of 
 tactics. Her mind was full of many things those 
 days, things that had to do with an approaching 
 birthday and a piece of news that would soon be 
 made public. 
 
 One night, at a dinner for the young people 
 given by Mrs. Marsh in honour of two or three
 
 THE WEDDING 333 
 
 of the most fashionable buds of that season, the 
 young Englishman, who had been manoeuvred into 
 almost exclusive company with Dorothy by the ex 
 tremely capable Mrs. Marsh, revolted and went 
 home as soon as he could with propriety. Doro 
 thy had no part in this, but Mrs. Marsh thought 
 she had. 
 
 " Dorothy,," she said that night when the guests 
 had left, " I consider your conduct this evening 
 quite inexcusable." 
 
 "What do you mean, mother?" asked Doro 
 thy, amazed. 
 
 " I mean that you are defying my expressed 
 wishes by snubbing that poor Mr. Vickers to 
 night. He was so uncomfortable that he left be 
 fore any of the others." 
 
 " What a calamity! " murmured Dorothy. 
 
 11 Dorothy," said Mrs. Marsh coldly, " I can 
 not understand your attitude in this matter. You 
 know it is your duty to marry a man who can offer 
 you both position and wealth, not only for your 
 own sake, but for your father s and mine as well. 
 I have spent much time and effort in having you 
 meet desirable young men and giving you an op 
 portunity to see something of them, and you have 
 done absolutely nothing to help me." Then, 
 overcome apparently at the thought of her daugh 
 ter s ingratitude, Mrs. Marsh indulged in a few 
 tears. 
 
 Dorothy steeled herself for the encounter. 
 She realised that the time had come to have things 
 out with her mother.
 
 334 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " But, mother," she explained, " I do not want 
 to marry Mr. Vickers any more than I wanted to 
 marry Mr. Wheeldon, and neither Mr. Vickers 
 nor Mr. Wheeldon has the slightest desire to 
 marry me. And besides mother, dear, I am 
 engaged already." Her heart was beating furi 
 ously as she spoke, but she tried very hard to 
 appear calm. 
 
 For a moment Mrs. Marsh was too dumb 
 founded to speak. Then: 
 
 " You are engaged? " she repeated blankly, her 
 voice trailing off to a wail. " To whom? " 
 
 " Tom Darlington." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh once more resorted to tears, but 
 from behind the handkerchief that she pressed 
 to her face she eyed Dorothy narrowly to see how 
 much in earnest she was. That young woman sat 
 straight in her chair, looking proud, defiant and 
 very indignant. 
 
 There s no use making a scene, mother," she 
 announced. " I love him and I m going to marry 
 him, whether you like it or not." That ended the 
 interview. 
 
 When he got home that night Marsh found his 
 wife in her room, sobbing nervously, her maid 
 bathing her temples with cologne. He knew 
 something had happened, but couldn t imagine 
 what it was, and after some tender sympathy and 
 a few discreet and tactful assurances of his love 
 and support, went to his own room to await the 
 developments of the morning. 
 
 Next morning Mrs. Marsh was pale but calm.
 
 THE WEDDING 335 
 
 She had her breakfast in her room, as was her 
 custom, and sent her maid to ask Marsh if he 
 would come to her at ten o clock. She was re 
 clining in a big chair in most becoming negligee 
 when Marsh came in. 
 
 " What is it, dear? " he asked tenderly, for he 
 saw at once that something was really on her 
 mind. 
 
 " Oh, James," she said, on the verge of tears 
 again, " Dorothy is engaged! " 
 
 "Good!" exclaimed Marsh. "I m glad of 
 it! Who is the lucky chap? " 
 
 Mrs. Marsh changed immediately into the so 
 cially ambitious woman. 
 
 " I regret your attitude," she said icily. " I 
 had great plans for Dorothy, great ambitions. 
 I sought to make her one of the social leaders of 
 Washington. I desired her to take her proper 
 place in exclusive circles, and now she tells me she 
 intends to marry a common railroad employe of 
 no family and no wealth." 
 
 " Tom Darlington? " asked Marsh. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " But, Molly, Tom Darlington is from one of 
 the best families in New England, although he 
 was born in the West, and he will have plenty of 
 money some day. Besides, he s an honest, manly 
 young fellow and he is a comer in the railroad 
 world." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh listened intently. " You don t 
 mean to say he is of the Darlington family of 
 Massachusetts? " she asked.
 
 336 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " David Darlington is his grandfather." 
 
 " And that family has money? " 
 
 " No end of it." 
 
 Mrs. Marsh sighed. " Well," she said, " per. 
 haps it isn t so bad as I feared. Leave me now, 
 James, I must think things out." 
 
 Marsh kissed her and went out. He found 
 Dorothy downstairs, pale and anxious. 
 
 " Oh, popsie," she said, " have you seen " 
 
 " I have," he answered, " and cheer up, it will 
 all come out right ! " 
 
 What did you tell her?" 
 
 " I told her that young man of yours isn t a 
 half bad chap, and a lot of other things. You go 
 to her later in the day and cuddle her a little, and 
 you ll find she ll not only consent, but will give 
 you a wedding that will make the eyes of these 
 other girls pop right out on their cheeks." 
 
 It was three o clock that afternoon before Mrs. 
 Marsh and Dorothy had their meeting. In the 
 meantime Mrs. Marsh had had her hair dressed, 
 her manicure and her masseuse had been in, and 
 she was ready for her day. She sent for Doro 
 thy, who had been wandering about the house and 
 had written three letters to Tom, telling him in the 
 first one that possibly she would telegraph him to 
 come and get her; in the next begging him to dis 
 miss any such preposterous idea from his mind, 
 and in the third asking him on what train he would 
 arrive. 
 
 The interview went off much better than Doro 
 thy had dared to hope. Mrs. Marsh was gentle
 
 THE WEDDING 337 
 
 and considerate, and after half an hour s talk con 
 sented to the match. Whereupon Dorothy sent 
 the butler scurrying to the telegraph office with a 
 telegram to Tom, which read: 
 
 Why don t you hurry? Love. DOROTHY. 
 
 This message threw young Darlington into 
 ecstasies of delight and paroxysms of woe simul 
 taneously, for he fancied all manner of things, 
 from a demand on Dorothy s part for an elope 
 ment, to a plot by Mrs. Marsh to marry her 
 daughter by force to one of her social favourites. 
 He took the first train to Washington and Dorothy 
 met him at the station. Mrs. Marsh was cordial 
 in a reserved manner, and questioned him at 
 length about his family connections and financial 
 expectations, and in due course gave an elaborate 
 party for Dorothy at which her engagement was 
 announced. 
 
 Mrs. Marsh prepared the press notices of the 
 party that appeared in the society columns. She 
 gave a detailed list of those present, spoke of the 
 many flowers and engagement presents received, 
 and conferred on the world this information con 
 cerning Mr. Thomas Darlington, the prospective 
 groom: "Mr. Thomas Darlington, who is to 
 marry Miss Marsh, is a direct descendant of the 
 David Darlingtons of Massachusetts, an old and 
 wealthy family. Mr. Darlington is by profession 
 a civil engineer, and at present holds a responsible 
 position with the R. R. & T. Railroad. He has
 
 338 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 a wide reputation among railroad officials as one 
 of the leaders in his profession and undoubtedly 
 has a brilliant career before him." Tom Darling 
 ton whistled when he read that, but Dorothy put 
 her arms round his neck and whispered: " Why 
 not?" 
 
 The wedding was noteworthy even for Wash 
 ington weddings. The president and his wife 
 went to the church ceremony and sent a big 
 bouquet of flowers from the White House con 
 servatories to the bride. The president s daugh 
 ter was at the breakfast reception, as was nearly 
 all of Washington s best official, diplomatic, 
 army, navy and residential society. The papers 
 gave half a column to the affair, with pictures 
 of the bride and groom, and Mrs. Marsh, al 
 though she could not help regretting that the 
 groom was not Wheeldon or Vickers or perhaps 
 an officer in the army or navy, was reasonably 
 content. If there had remained any doubt in the 
 mind of any person as to her social status, the list 
 of guests at the church, the breakfast and the re 
 ception must have convinced the sceptical that she 
 had arrived. 
 
 When Marsh was looking over her lists of 
 guests he saw the name of the former Cabinet 
 woman who had snubbed Mrs. Marsh in her first 
 season. This woman had left Washington when 
 her husband retired from office, but was spending 
 the winter there. 
 
 " Goodness, Molly," said Marsh, " you are not 
 going to ask that woman, are you? She s the one
 
 THE WEDDING 339 
 
 who snubbed you back in the old Bruxton Hotel 
 days." 
 
 " Certainly I shall invite her," answered Mrs. 
 Marsh. " She is very important socially, and I 
 don t intend any one to remember I ever had any 
 Bruxton Hotel days."
 
 XXXI 
 
 A VISION OF POWER 
 
 w ~"^HE next three years passed unevent 
 fully. The political firm of Paxton and 
 Marsh maintained its supremacy in the 
 ^ state, Paxton was re-elected for his 
 third term, and Marsh grew in reputation through 
 out the country as a great orator. There had been 
 mention of him as his- party s candidate for presi 
 dent. Marsh was rapidly becoming invaluable to 
 the Senate oligarchy and he reaped a big reward. 
 At the suggestion of Elzey he accepted a large 
 retainer from special interests for the purpose 
 of defeating legislation. Elzey had been dis 
 charged as receiver of the railroad and Marsh s 
 fee terminated, but he had been given, at the sug 
 gestion of Paxton and some other friends in the 
 Senate, a considerable sum by a combination of 
 railroads for the purpose of holding up proposed 
 legislation to compel the railroad to put on steel 
 mail-cars instead of the flimsy wooden ones they 
 were running, and the public was behind this bill, 
 for the slaughter of mail clerks in wrecks is ap 
 palling. Marsh held up this legislation for sev 
 eral years. His activities extended in various 
 directions. At first Paxton made no suggestion 
 
 340
 
 A VISION OF POWER 341 
 
 of division, but one day he said he thought that 
 inasmuch as he was the business producer and 
 Marsh the practicing lawyer in the combination, he 
 deserved half the spoils. Marsh readily agreed 
 to this. He was making money fast and he knew 
 his obligations to Paxton. 
 
 Tom Darlington had been made division en 
 gineer, and he and Dorothy had moved to the 
 city fifty miles from Morganville, which was the 
 division headquarters. They had a baby boy, the 
 idol of Marsh, who, much to her husband s dis 
 gust, insisted that Dorothy spend much of her 
 time in Washington, so that he might be near the 
 baby. Mrs. Marsh continued on her social way. 
 She was one of the leaders and she was most ex 
 clusive. She had none but the most fashionable 
 people at her numerous entertainments, and her 
 dinners were celebrated throughout Washington, 
 not only for the extremely smart character of the 
 guests, but for the excellence of the food and 
 wines. Furthermore, she had arrived at that 
 stage of eminence wherein the society reporters 
 sought her favour for news. She was no longer 
 compelled to go after them. 
 
 At the beginning of Marsh s fourth year in the 
 Senate he was worth two hundred thousand 
 dollars. No suspicion had attached to his name. 
 He was hailed throughout the country as a sturdy 
 party man of extraordinary ability as a speaker, 
 and he was in demand in political campaigns and 
 at big dinners in New York and elsewhere. At 
 the same time there had spread throughout the
 
 342 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 country a feeling of discontent, expertly fostered 
 by men in Washington who knew the real condi 
 tions. The men in control of the Republican 
 party had used that party so long to their own 
 selfish ends they had become arrogant and flown 
 with power. They refused to listen to the 
 protest of the people. A revolt that threatened 
 to become a revolution was in progress, but they 
 would have none of the news of it, so secure did 
 they feel in their position entrenched behind the 
 interests they represented. They thought money 
 would be all potent, as it always had been, in main 
 taining their supremacy in the elections, and their 
 arrogance led them to newer and greater abuses 
 of their power and their disregard of the people. 
 
 One night early in April Marsh went out for a 
 walk. He passed by the White House and 
 stopped to look at the south portico of that beauti 
 ful building. There was a full moon. The mag 
 nolias and the other flowering trees shimmered in 
 its light. The big fountain sent up spurts of 
 gleaming water that fell back in glittering spray. 
 The grass was green and fresh and velvety, and 
 through this perspective he saw the great portico, 
 with its gleaming pillars, and the lanterns on 
 either side. Back of him the monument towered 
 into the soft air, its grey sides softly reflecting 
 subdued tints, and far behind the dome of the 
 Capitol swam indistinct in the silver haze. 
 
 Marsh gazed at this wonderful picture there 
 is not another in the world like it and his 
 thoughts ran back to the night when he first stood
 
 A VISION OF POWER 343 
 
 there and wondered if he might not one day live 
 in that house and direct affairs of the people of 
 his country. Why not? He was gaming fame. 
 He was getting to be a party leader. He had 
 every qualification and especially every political 
 qualification. He was entranced by the glory of 
 the scene, and again he seemed to hear the bands 
 playing Hail to the Chief as they passed him on 
 Pennsylvania Avenue on the fourth of March, 
 while he bowed his acknowledgments as the newly- 
 elected president, Mrs. Marsh beside him radiant 
 with happiness. 
 
 A man touched him on the shoulder. Marsh 
 started and turned around. 
 
 " Hello, senator." 
 
 " Why, how do you do, Byron. I haven t 
 seen you in a long time. 
 
 " No," Byron replied, " we are not travelling 
 the same roads just now. Isn t it a wonderful 
 picture? " 
 
 Wonderful!" 
 
 " But think of the troubles of the poor chap 
 who lives there, the rock if he is a rock 
 against which every selfish ambition, every polit 
 ical intrigue, every job is hurled, and against 
 whose peace of mind and future every political 
 jobster is plotting. Or if he isn t a rock, the poor, 
 helpless, hopeless man, snared by the system and 
 the creature of those who surround him and who 
 snared him. It is a tremendous responsibility, and 
 how few of them measure up to it." 
 
 " Byron," said Marsh, " what did you mean just
 
 344 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 now when you said you and I are not travelling 
 the same roads. Of course I am in the Senate 
 and you are still in the House, but that doesn t 
 explain it. What did you mean? " 
 
 Byron laughed. " You know what I mean, 
 senator, as well as I do, but I ll tell you if you 
 want to know." 
 
 " I do want to know." 
 
 Well, I mean just this: You and I be 
 gan in Congress in the same term. You have 
 gone ahead of me of course, and that is right 
 enough, for you are a man of greater ability than 
 I, but, believe me, Marsh, my time is coming. 
 You have seen fit to ally yourself with the interest- 
 controlled organisation and to disregard, except 
 for purposes of deceiving them, the people to 
 whom you are responsible. We are playing dif 
 ferent games, Marsh. You have taken one end 
 and I have taken the other. You have chosen 
 to be with the classes, as represented by their tools 
 in this Congress, and I have chosen to be with 
 the people. Your apparent advantage is great, 
 but the time isn t far away when the people you 
 have left will rise and throw you all out of power." 
 
 " Pshaw, Byron," interrupted Marsh, " that 
 sounds like one of your speeches in the House." 
 
 " It is one of my speeches in the House," 
 answered Byron, " and it is one of my speeches 
 to the people. As surely as there is a God in 
 Heaven, Marsh, this revolt, this demand for re 
 adjustment, will bring you all to your knees. 
 You can t escape it. It is bound to come. You
 
 A VISION OF POWER 345 
 
 Have grown arrogant, despotic, un-American even 
 in your studied and selfish crusade for power and 
 for money. I mean all of you, not you alone. 
 You have sought to make our party a party o 
 individuals instead of a party of the people. You 
 have delivered us over into the hands of the 
 trusts, the monopolies, the combinations that are 
 destroying or have destroyed competition and are 
 making the burdens of life unbearable. You have 
 refused to hear the warnings. You are deaf to 
 the entreaties of the people. You laugh at the 
 protests of men like myself, scoff at us, call us 
 socialists and anarchists and enemies of the ex 
 isting order. 
 
 " Great Heavens, man, why shouldn t we be 
 enemies of the existing order? What is the ex 
 isting order but the absolute control of this Gov 
 ernment by a few financial pirates who have used 
 you for their own ends; and have throttled the 
 people of this country with trusts, combinations 
 and with other financial and business iniquities? 
 What is it if it isn t that? Of course we are 
 enemies of the existing order, and mark me, sen 
 ator, the existing order will be toppled over one 
 of these days, your party will be wrecked and 
 ruined, and you will have nothing to mark your 
 past by but your money, and that will not be a 
 subject of grateful remembrance, if I am any 
 judge." 
 
 Marsh listened impatiently. " I don t want to 
 be rude, Byron," he said, " but it seems to me you 
 are going a bit beyond the limit in your tirade."
 
 346 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " Nor do I want to be rude," continued Byron, 
 " but facts are always rude. I am speaking to 
 you now because I still have faith in you, because 
 I know what you were thinking when I came along 
 here. I know you were gazing at the White 
 House, and fancying yourself the president chosen 
 by the people to live within its walls. I know 
 what your dreams are, but I ll tell you, Marsh, 
 those dreams will never come true. You will 
 never get to the White House unless you cut 
 loose from these wolves who are using you and 
 your fine ability for their own purposes. You ll 
 go down with the rest. Why not be a man in 
 stead of a tool? Why not be one of the people 
 and for the people, instead of flouting the people 
 and using them for your own selfish ends? 
 [There s a day of reckoning coming, Marsh. It 
 may not be this year or next year, but it is com 
 ing. And you will all go down. It isn t too 
 late for you, Marsh. You have power. The 
 people still believe in you. They do not know 
 your connections as we know them here. They 
 think you are a great man, partisan, perhaps, but 
 intrinsically honest, and you can still cut loose 
 and go out and make a fight for popular govern 
 ment, for the rule of the people instead of the 
 rule of the system. You can do it if you wish, 
 Marsh. It is up to you." 
 
 " Good-night," said Marsh abruptly, and 
 Iwalked away. 
 
 He did not go to bed until four o clock next 
 jnorning. He sat in his library and thought of
 
 A VISION OF POWER 347 
 
 what Byron had said. He considered Byron a 
 fanatic, a crusader who saw visions and dreamed 
 dreams, but in his heart he knew Byron was right. 
 He had felt many time the humiliation of his 
 position. He had taken orders like the veriest 
 attendant, orders to do thus and so issued arro 
 gantly by the Senate leaders. To be sure he had 
 profited by these orders, but that added to the 
 humiliation, for even his motives were dishonest. 
 Before morning he had resolved to cut loose. 
 He had planned his campaign. He had decided 
 to be a man, no matter what the consequences 
 might be; but as he reviewed his career and his 
 connections he was uneasy. Perhaps he could 
 not. That thought constantly obtruded. He 
 swept it away with a fine determination to cut loose 
 no matter what the cost to himself. He knew 
 his own ability. He saw himself in the Senate 
 making his declaration of emancipation, espousing 
 the cause of the people. He felt instinctively 
 there would be a wide popular acclaim, and the 
 vision of the bands playing Hail to the Chief 
 on Pennsylvania Avenue on March fourth, while 
 he bowed his acknowledgments from the review 
 ing stand in front of the White House, came back 
 to him. 
 
 He stayed at home that morning and planned 
 his campaign. The House had passed a corpo 
 ration-tax bill, taxing corporations on their gross 
 revenues, that had been fought bitterly in secret 
 by the organisation and the interests, but which 
 they had been obliged to send to a vote and obliged
 
 to vote for because of the popular demand they 
 could not resist. The interests were outraged by 
 the bill. They protested it was confiscatory, un 
 constitutional, un-American, and they rallied every 
 friend they had against it, but to no avail. The 
 people demanded it. The people were beginning 
 to have an inkling of what had happened to them 
 in years gone by. 
 
 So they let the bill go through the House and 
 plotted to kill it or emasculate it in the Senate. 
 One plan was to increase the tax in the Senate to 
 an absurdly high figure and refuse to compromise 
 in conference and then kill the bill; and the other 
 was for the Finance Committee of the Senate, 
 when it received the bill from the House, to strike 
 out all but the enacting clause, substitute an en 
 tirely new bill, pass that bill, and send the two 
 bills to conference, where the conferees would be 
 carefully picked men and where they could cook 
 up a new bill that would be harmless, while ap 
 pearing to carry out the will of the people. This 
 latter plan was most favoured, because the mere 
 change of the rate of taxation in the House Bill 
 by the Senate meant, under the laws of conference, 
 that the conferees could confer and decide only on 
 the items changed, and must not change any sec 
 tions that had passed both House and Senate in 
 exact form. That is, if the House fixed five per 
 cent, and the Senate amended to ten per cent, as 
 the rate of the tax, the conferees could deal only 
 with the rate and not with the wording of the bill,
 
 A VISION OF POWER 349 
 
 unless that had been changed from House ver 
 biage by Senate amendment also. 
 
 The decision was to have the Senate strike out 
 all but the enacting clause in the House bill, sub 
 stitute its own bill, and thresh it out in conference, 
 where the organisation would see to it that com 
 petent threshers were on guard. Elzey told 
 Marsh, and so did Paxton, that Marsh must lead 
 the fight for this procedure. The organisation 
 had picked trusty men for conferees and the pre 
 siding officers had their instructions to name these 
 men. The chairman of the Finance Committee 
 was an adroit floor leader, but the public feeling 
 was so intense that a great speech was needed and 
 Marsh was told off to make this speech. 
 
 Marsh knew the House bill was equitable. His 
 plan was to make his great speech, but not in 
 defence of the Senate procedure, and the conse 
 quent emasculation in conference he knew would 
 ensue. He had been party to conferences before. 
 He knew how adroitly new law was made by con 
 ferees, how provisions were changed and bills de 
 natured by these skilful legislators, and his idea, 
 which was firmly fixed in his mind, was to advo 
 cate the passage by the Senate of the House bill 
 instead of the substitution of the Senate bill. He 
 planned to offer the House bill as a substitute for 
 the Senate bill and make his fight on that. He 
 knew he would have some Senate support and wide 
 popular acclaim, for he intended to expose the 
 Senate scheme and to demand the House bill as
 
 350 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 a fair and righteous measure, giving the people 
 a tithe of their dues and mulcting the interests 
 and the system. 
 
 " Jim," said Paxton to him a few days before 
 the matter came up, " are you getting ready for 
 that corporation-tax speech?" 
 
 " Yes," Marsh replied. 
 
 " Going to be a hummer, I hope. It s a great 
 chance for you. We ve got it all fixed to submit 
 our own bill in place of the House bill, and throw 
 it into conference, and what those able seamen 
 who will be on that conference committee will 
 do to that corporation-tax business will be a plenty. 
 They ll mess it up so the Supreme Court won t get 
 it untangled in a dozen years." 
 
 " Will the people stand for it? " asked Marsh. 
 
 " They ve got to stand for it. We ve got the 
 votes roped and tied in the Senate to pass it, and 
 the conferees will hold out and make a false fight 
 until within a few hours of adjournment. Then 
 we ll report an agreement, and shove it gracefully 
 through in the crowded last moments before any 
 body knows what is in it. After that the people 
 can gnaw on it as long as they like. Of course as 
 soon as an attempt is made to collect a tax under 
 it a test case will be brought by some of our 
 friends, and by the time the Supreme Court passes 
 on it we can have some other scheme fixed up. 
 The people ? Say, Jim, you don t think the people 
 have a look in on this game, do you? " 
 
 " I suppose not," said Marsh gravely, " but I 
 think I shall try to enlighten them."
 
 A VISION OF POWER 351 
 
 " You ll do what? " shouted Paxton. 
 
 " I shall support the House bill." 
 
 Paxton looked at him in amazement. 
 
 " That s what I shall do," repeated Marsh. 
 
 " Yes you will," said Paxton. " Oh, yes, I 
 can see you doing it! Quit your joking now and 
 go and get ready for your speech." 
 
 " I am not joking. I intend to advocate the 
 House rate and the House bill." 
 
 Paxton smiled incredulously. " Say, Jim," he 
 said, "you haven t been drinking, have you?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then you must be crazy." 
 
 " I m neither crazy nor drunk. I tell you I 
 am convinced my duty is to prevent this juggling 
 with the rights of the people. It has got to stop. 
 Hereafter I am going to fight for the men who 
 send me here, not for the men I met after I got 
 here. It s all settled. I am against you and 
 your gang from this time out. I have declared 
 my independence. I am a free man, and I ll fight 
 you to the finish, in this and in every other rotten 
 scheme you try to sneak through." 
 
 "Do you mean it?" asked Paxton, still in 
 credulous. 
 
 " I mean it More than that, I swear it." 
 
 Paxton whistled, walked round the room, 
 lighted a cigar with elaborate care. " The 
 trouble with you is that you ve lost your sense of 
 perspective," he remarked. 
 
 " On the contrary," asserted Marsh, " I ve 
 just found it."
 
 352 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " Oh, hell," exclaimed Paxton, " there s no use 
 arguing with a crazy man! I ll attend to you in 
 a day or so if you don t get back to normal. 
 Good-morning."
 
 SHACKLED OR THE END OF THE DREAM 
 
 PAXTON went up to Marsh s house that 
 night and came away convinced Marsh 
 was in earnest. He found it useless to 
 talk to Marsh, that he obstinately refused 
 to listen to reason, nor would he heed threats. He 
 said he had decided to cast his lot with the people 
 and he had faith the people would welcome him. 
 He would expose the whole scheme in the Senate 
 and he knew he could arouse the country. So did 
 Paxton know, he could arouse the country. Pax- 
 ton had an acute realisation of that fact, and he 
 had an inkling of the temper of the people, for 
 he was an able politician and kept somewhat in 
 touch with the West and the Middle-West, where 
 the revolt was assuming proportions. He con 
 sulted with the other Senate leaders. They can 
 vassed the situation carefully. 
 
 " Paxton," said the real leader; u we can t af 
 ford to have this happen. (Put the screws on 
 him." 
 
 Two days later, while Marsh sat at work on his 
 speech in his committee room, the card of William 
 R. Elzey was brought in by his messenger. 
 " Ask him to come in," Marsh directed, 
 
 353.
 
 354 THE PRICE OE PLACE 
 
 Elzey appeared. " Ah, good-morning, sena 
 tor," he said. " I am delighted to see you again. 
 Charming weather, isn t it? I hope you are 
 well and I must say you are looking very fit." 
 
 Marsh smiled a little at this, for he was pale 
 and worn, with great hollows under his eyes. 
 He had slept little, and he was working hard on 
 what was to be the greatest speech of his life. 
 
 " Good-morning, Mr. Elzey. Won t you sit 
 down?" 
 
 They chatted a moment on inconsequential 
 things. Then Elzey cleared his throat portent 
 ously. " Senator," he said, " what is this amaz 
 ing thing I hear about you? " 
 
 "I can t imagine. What is it?" 
 
 " Why of course it is absurd but I hear, 
 from what is usually good authority although 
 my informants must be mistaken, as I told 
 them I hear you intend to oppose the Senate 
 plan as regards the iniquitous corporation tax and 
 support the criminally oppressive House measure." 
 
 " That is correct." 
 
 " But, senator, you cannot be serious. All of 
 your friends and associates in New York s and 
 I think you will admit we are entitled, for sub 
 stantial reasons, to claim friendship are op 
 posed to this measure as it stands. All of your 
 associates in the Senate are opposed to it. It is 
 a mere anarchistic vagary of the uninformed 
 people. It is confiscatory. It deprives the men 
 who have built up this country of the fruits of 
 their honest endeavour, of their knowledge, their
 
 SHACKLED 355 
 
 capital, their enterprise. I can show you, if you 
 will allow me, the dozen iniquities that exist in 
 it." 
 
 * That would be useless," said Marsh firmly. 
 
 " Useless? Surely you will listen to reason? " 
 
 " I have determined on my course." 
 
 " But my dear senator, you cannot do this thing. 
 It is impossible and preposterous." 
 
 " I fail to see why it is impossible. I have 
 the right of speech in the Senate. I am a free 
 man. I can say what I choose and I have my con 
 victions in the matter. Why is it impossible?" 
 
 " Because " Elzey dropped his affability 
 and became imperative, his eyes, grey and hard, 
 drilled into Marsh, his voice was harsh and com 
 manding. " Because I forbid it." 
 
 " You forbid it! " shouted Marsh. " You 
 forbid it ! Get out of this office before I 
 throw you out! You forbid it! And who 
 are you who are you to forbid my doing my 
 duty?" 
 
 " You know who I am. If you do not I shall 
 be at pains to refresh your memory. I forbid it, 
 I say, and I have the power to do so." 
 
 Marsh dropped back in his chair. " I don t 
 understand," he said weakly. 
 
 " You will in a minute. Do you suppose I 
 we my associates and myself intend to allow 
 you to cut our throats in this manner? " 
 
 " You " 
 
 Marsh paused. His mind flashed back over all 
 his congressional career. He saw it all. These
 
 356 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 men intended to coerce him because he had taken 
 money from them. Hot blood rushed to his 
 face. His heart thumped. He saw dimly. The 
 big, impressive figure of Elzey swayed in a 
 mist before him. His temples throbbed. His 
 hands clasped and unclasped. He started for 
 ward as if to strike Elzey, who sat watching him 
 with a cruel smile on his lips. 
 
 " I defy you ! " shouted Marsh. " I defy you! 
 You can prove nothing. I have given services for 
 all the money you have paid me, you or any 
 other person. I defy you ! I shall oppose the 
 bill, and I ll beat it, too, and show up your sneak 
 ing, scheming pirates to the whole world ! " 
 
 " You will do no such thing," said Elzey quietly. 
 
 " Why won t I, damn you ? Why won t I ? 
 You can t stop me with any of your cheap, black 
 mailing threats. I defy you!" 
 
 " You d best be calm, Marsh. You cannot 
 frighten me. Don t call me a blackmailer and a 
 thief. Think about yourself. Keep your ep 
 ithets for yourself. What you say about me con 
 cerns me little. I am used to dealing with men of 
 your class." 
 
 " Of my class? " gasped Marsh. 
 
 " Exactly. I have been buying such men as 
 you for many years. I bought you, Marsh, and 
 you will not oppose that bill." 
 
 " By God I will ! " shouted Marsh. " I ll beat 
 it if I go to hell for it." 
 
 " No," replied Elzey, still calm, " you will not 
 beat it. You will continue in the Senate, do as I
 
 SHACKLED 357 
 
 wish, an d be a respectable and respected member 
 of that great body." 
 
 Marsh was trembling. His nerves, already 
 wrought to high tension, were breaking a little. 
 "How can you stop me?" he asked. "I tell 
 you I have made up my mind." 
 
 Elzey took a bundle of papers from his pocket. 
 They were canceled bank cheques. 
 
 " Marsh," he said, " here is every cheque you 
 have received from us from me and my asso 
 ciates. Cheques with your indorsement on them, 
 cheques issued by various firms and corporations in 
 New York. I have them all. You are more of 
 a simpleton than most men of your class, Marsh. 
 You don t even know, enough to demand currency. 
 You took cheques. And here they are, the proof 
 of all your crookedness." 
 
 Marsh s face was ghastly as Elzey spread the 
 cheques out before him. They were all there in 
 cluding the first ones from Stunz & Sturgess, and 
 the cheque for $25,000 used in beating him for 
 election as senator. Marsh put a shaking finger 
 on the first cheque he had received. 
 
 " Where did you get that? " he asked hoarsely. 
 
 " Why, Quicksall gave it to me. We all 
 operate together in cases of this kind, my dear 
 senator. Are you not aware of that? " 
 
 Elzey spread the cheques out again. " Look 
 them over," he said. " You admit your sig 
 natures? " 
 
 What are you going to do with them? " 
 
 "Nothing," said Elzey, gathering them up;
 
 358 THE PRICE OF PLACE 
 
 " nothing if you recant on this foolish and inex 
 pedient idea of yours and fall in line for our plan 
 as to this tax* If you persist in your foolishness 
 I shall arrange to have these cheques placed in 
 the hands of various New York newspapers. The 
 exposure won t hurt us, Marsh, for the people 
 could not hate us any more than they do, but it 
 will ruin you, Marsh, and it will ruin your wife 
 and your daughter." 
 
 " Is it possible," Marsh cried, " that you would 
 do that?" 
 
 Elzey smiled. " My dear senator," he said, 
 " stop and consider what you are preparing 
 to do to us. We must fight fire with fire." 
 
 Marsh paced back and forth across the room. 
 " It is quite true," he cried. " I am not a free 
 man, not a real man. I am merely the tool of 
 you and your associates, a violator of my oath 
 of office, an ingrate to the people who have 
 honoured me." 
 
 " Oh, senator," protested Elzey, " I think you 
 are a little too hard on yourself." 
 
 Marsh did not appear to hear what the other 
 man was saying: " I am bound," he repeated as 
 though speaking to himself, " shackled, fettered, 
 and all for what? For petty place, for fleeting 
 fame, for gratification of my vanity, for cursed, 
 rotten money. Oh, my God ! my God I " He 
 threw himself forward on his desk, his head buried 
 in his arms, his body shaken with great sobs. 
 
 Elzey sat watching him. After some moments 
 Marsh looked up.
 
 SHACKLED 359. 
 
 " Of course, senator," said Elzey, " the Incident 
 is closed, I take it, and you are with us." 
 
 Marsh looked vacantly at him. 
 
 " I am to understand then," repeated Elzey, 
 " that you will consider the incident closed and 
 that you will support our contention. Am I 
 correct? " 
 
 Marsh slowly nodded his head. " Yes," he 
 whispered, " you are entirely correct." 
 
 " Good-morning," said Elzey. " I shall have 
 the pleasure of seeing you again soon, I trust. 
 Good-morning." 
 
 Long after his visitor had left him, Marsh sat 
 there, staring at the wall. Again he had a vision 
 of the bands playing Hail to the Chief on Penn 
 sylvania Avenue, and the crowds cheering the man 
 who stood in the reviewing stand on the fourth of 
 March and bowed his happy acknowledgments. 
 But this time the man in the reviewing stand was 
 not James Marsh, 
 
 THE END
 
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