HE DISTRICT ATTORNEY WILLIAM SAGE THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT OF ?-trs. Ben B. Lir.osey 7, J* ? and if you will only give us your confidence I am sure we can help you." As he looked down at her she did seem appealingly in need of protection. She looked up at him steadily, answering " I will tell you, Mr. Haverland, it is perhaps better to tell you than anyone, for you will understand." There was a slight pause. " I am threatened with a horrid law suit," and she twisted the summons nervously. " Is that all ? " he replied, " and is this the paper MRS. DELAFIELD'S DEBTS 15 which has made you cry ? " He took the document from her half-resisting fingers. She looked over his shoulder as he spread out the paper, and read : " In the Matter of Proceedings, Sup plemental to Execution, etc., etc." "Is it not frightful?" she whispered. "Think of me standing before a Judge in ' Proceedings Supple mental to Execution.' It sounds as if one's head were in danger. Indeed it's just as bad." " Let us see what is the amount of the debt," Richard continued in a business-like way : " Eight hundred and ninety-two dollars and seventy-nine cents Suit of Madame Fra^ois, Artiste Couturiere," he read. " My dressmaker," she murmured, smoothing her gown, " she might have waited. Oh ! Mr. Haverland," she went on quickly, " you have no idea how much I have gone through I mean how much trouble since Frank Delafield left me. I must tell some one. I want to tell you." " By taking your case I become your legal advisor a sort of father confessor, you know, so tell me every thing." " When Mr. Delafield left me two years ago he also left debts for me to struggle with, we had both been extravagant I fear. He sent me a little money during the first year of his absence, but for nearly twelve months I have heard nothing from him. My own in come is very small, much too small for my needs. I was forced to add to these debts, and now I do not know which way to turn. If I could pay this woman it would do no good, for the others would swoop down upon me. The thought of the publicity fairly makes me ill." She stopped, to get control of her feelings. 16 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " How much do you owe? " asked Richard quietly. " At least three thousand dollars," she replied, much distressed. " This is what has been wearing me to a shadow. I cannot tell Mildred. She is so punctilious about money matters. She, who always has everything, cannot understand how difficult to get on, it is, for those who have next to nothing. I suppose I did wrong not to be more economical, but I had to get on, some way." Mrs. Delafield looked very contrite. " Make out a list of your pressing debts and let me have it. I will send round to the parties in interest and see what arrangement can be made," said Richard. " Do you think that you can make them lenient ? " she asked anxiously. " You see I have rather exhausted that element." Richard Haverland smiled quietly. " I can tell bet ter after I have seen the bills and know who are the creditors." She flashed him a look of gratitude. " I hate to have you see them," she hesitated. " Consider me your legal advisor. I can understand your hesitancy, but this is an emergency; now you go home and send me all the bills." He spoke with such decision there was no disobeying him. She arose with a faint sigh. " I will do as you tell me," she said softly, " but I fear greatly that they will not grant any further extension of time." " Then we will pay them and be done with them," he said shortly. " Oh you must not do that. I cannot let you." " We cannot let you go to Court for the lack of three thousand dollars. You don't want to face an inquiry in Supplemental Proceedings " MRS. DELAFIELD'S DEBTS 17 " No ! No ! " she exclaimed shrinking, " I hate to face horrid things. I can't." " Then don't worry any more about this. I'll lend you the money. You can pay me any time." She looked at him fixedly. " How wonderful to be a man such as you, who can dispose so carelessly of a mat ter which has fairly crushed me to earth." He turned the subject quickly. " By the way, where is Mildred? You know I came home at her particular request to take you both up the river to Mrs. Quintin- Tailer's entertainment. Are you all ready ? " " Why no, I thought it was an evening affair." " So it is, but the plan is to start early and dine en route, did not Mildred tell you ? " " If she did, other things drove the matter from my poor head, but I am enchanted with the idea. The methodical Mildred is doubtless ready, and if you will call and pick me up, I promise not to keep you waiting long. Au revoir, Mr. Richard. Au revoir, * Cceur de Lion,' and oh! I do thank you!" For a young creature who had so recently been crushed to earth, she flitted from the house with remark able vitality. I CHAPTER III MRS. QUINTIN-TAILER'S FETE When the two glaring eyes of Richard Haverland's automobile came flaming up the winding driveway of the Quintin-Tailer's, the sounds which issued from its brazen throat were like the shrieks of delight from a red monster upon entering fairy land. The entertainment was a moonlight fete upon the lawn, with all the guests in fancy dress, and the musicians hidden among the trees. As the almanac coldly neglected to provide a moon, Mrs. Quintin-Tailer had summoned an electrical engineer, who hung the trees with myriads of colored lights and caused the fountains to play in brilliant white ness. Mrs. Quintin-Tailer had luxuriant auburn hair, and some of her friends declared that she looked just like Queen Elizabeth. She was not at all unwilling to re semble so august a personage, and conscious of an af finity with royalty she built a palace upon her estate. When her palace was finished, she conceived the bril liant idea of giving as a house-warming, a fete, where all the guests should appear in costumes of Elizabeth's court, the report being allowed to circulate under the rose, that she was to be the queen. The Haverland party was received by a butler, who escorted them to the rooms where they were to remove the dust of the road, and put on the costumes which they had brought with them. When they came out, Mildred 18 MRS. QUINTIN-TAILER'S F^TE 19 had been transformed into Mary Queen of Scots, and Cherida into Lady Jane Grey, while Richard, as a young blade of the period, cut a stunning figure in a richly em broidered velvet cloak. " I was bound to be a queen anyway," laughed Mil dred, as the two young women came rustling through the hall, their stiff skirts nearly touching the wain- scotting on each side. " Take care you do not lose your heads to-night," cautioned their escort. " And you must be careful not to lose your heart to night," smiled the fair Cherida, her feet beginning to mark time to the music as they came out upon the lawn. Their hostess, attired in a brocaded satin, her red hair and her white neck glittering with diamonds, would have excited the jealousy of the Virgin Queen. She was standing on a rug spread under a silken canopy, and received her guests with an air that was regal in its graciousness. Hovering near her, were two gen tlemen, supposed to be Sir Philip Sidney and Sir Walter Raleigh, while on her right stood Mr. Quintin-Tailer looking rather uncomfortable as Lord Burleigh. He brightened at the sight of Haverland, whom he knew slightly, and revealed the cause of his unhappiness in a whisper : " Did you ever have the rheumatism like the very old Nick ? " " No," replied Richard with surprise. " I never did. Have you got it ? " "Have I ? " and Mr. Tailer screwed up his face pain fully. " And yet my wife insists that I wear these black silk tights. I object, at my age, to joining the corps de ballet. Ar'n't you cold? " 20 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " Not in the least. It is a warm night," replied Rich ard. " I think it chilly here. Come up to the house ; we have the billiard room fitted up to represent the Mer maid Tavern." And Lord Burleigh locked his arm in Richard Haverland's, and walked him off. The front doors of the new mansion were swung hos pitably open, but nearly all the guests being on the lawn the house was deserted except in the billiard-room, which, as Tailer had explained, had been cleverly turned into a tavern. Here they found the lords of Essex and Leicester, who appeared to have forgotten past differences over a bottle of champagne. A popular author of the hour, who had been told by admiring friends that he had a Shakespearean brow, had come as the immortal bard, and was not at all put out of countenance by being presented to Lord Bacon. " It's rather fine, isn't it? " said Mr. Quintin-Tailer naively, doing the honors with a liberal hand. " Who are you ? " " Merely a gentleman of the sixteenth century. I told the costumer to do the proper thing," replied Rich ard. " Now I want to show you the house," said his host, who had taken a sudden affection for him. " This will be a good opportunity while everybody is dancing on the lawn. You'd like to see it, wouldn't you ? " he asked quickly as Richard glanced through the window. " I shall be very much pleased," replied his guest. " I knew you would, it is really worth seeing. Mrs. Quintin-Tailer has me take all our friends over it the first time they come here. I feel just like one of those MRS QUINTIN-TAILER'S FETE 21 guides. A man did hand me a quarter once, but he was an absent-minded chap thought he was in Europe." " It is wonderfully fine, and no mistake," remarked Richard, as they came into the main hall. " I want to say right here," said his host, laying his hand on Richard Haverland's arm, " that the whole scheme of construction and decoration originated in the brain of Mrs. Quintin-Tailer. Of course she called to her aid the most famous architect, who in turn had re course to the masters of the past, but Mrs. Q.-T. was re sponsible for it all. Now here is the main hall and staircase. It is of the period of Francis I. The prin cipal features are reproductions from the Chateau de Blois. Here is a picture of Francis I. in hunting cos tume. It cost me thirty-six thousand dollars." " Very fine indeed," remarked Richard, again glanc ing out of the window. " On this side of the hall is the dining-room. It is Louis XIV.," proceeded Mr. Tailer. " It is a very large room," said young Haverland. " It is forty by twenty-six. The rug on the floor cost me eighteen thousand dollars. You see the idea in the ceiling decoration ? " " A horn of plenty ? " asked Richard, as the two men stood in the centre of the room with their heads thrown back on their shoulders. " That is * 'L'Abondance nourrisant les affames.' It is the work of the most famous mural artist in this coun try. He rejected fifteen models before he could find one to suit him. He made a happy selection, don't you think 80?" " Very," admitted Richard, abstractedly. " I can readily understand why he named her UAbondance." 22 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Mr. Quintin-Tailer opened a door. " Out here we have the butler's pantry, style Louis XV. Now let us walk across the hall to the parlor. It is Louis XVI. I want you to note those tapestry pan els. The library is upstairs. That is English, 16th century. We will go up, if you like," and Mr. Quintin- Tailer led the way. " I hope that you see the scheme down stairs ? " he went on as they walked slowly up the magnificent stair case. " It covers the entire period from Francis I. down to the Revolution." " That is what one might call easy steps in French History, is it not? " remarked Richard, absent-mindedly. " Excuse me a minute," said his host suddenly, as a servant came up to him. " Here is a message from Mrs. Q.-T. She wishes to see me. Now you go right along the hall to the library. Don't take that door to the left ; that leads to the picture gallery the entire south west wing I want to show you that myself. You make yourself perfecly at home in the library. I'll be back in a few moments. I have a first folio of Shakes peare I want to show you. Has your father got one? " " If he hasn't he soon will have," replied Richard. " What did you say it cost? " But Mr. Q.-T., hurrying down the Francis I. staircase, did not hear the question. Richard Haverland walked slowly along the corridor into the library, planning to escape by means of some back staircase. Although the rest of the house was brilliant, the light in the library was somewhat obscure and Richard stepped to the window to look at the scene below. They were still dancing, and among a bevy of pretty women he could see the willowy Mrs. Delafield gliding through the figures of a minuet. She was in MRS. QUINTIN-TAILER'S FETE 23 her element, radiantly enticing. Every effective color of her costume was carefully chosen, every movement of her graceful, alluring body was studied, yet so naturally was she the actress, that her art completely possessed her and became nature. He was on the point of going down and asking her to dance, and yet he hesitated, as if swayed by some latent, subliminal argument. Slowly he turned from the window toward the door, but he stopped suddenly, for in a corner of the room where he had failed to see her, was a woman. In his surprise he continued to look at her without speaking. She was dressed in a figured silk, with wide skirt and a V-shaped bodice which seemed to clasp her waist rather cruelly, but her antique gown could not conceal the charm of her face and figure. Through the stiff ruff her graceful head emerged like a delicate flower. In one hand she held the hem of her skirt, revealing a brilliant petticoat beneath, while her attitude was that of one who contemplated secret flight. " I beg your pardon," said he. " Until this moment I did not know there was anyone here." " You have made me tear my dress," she said in an accent of reproach, but with a slight smile. " I ! " exclaimed Richard, in a tone of denial. " Why I have only this instant set eyes on you." " I know that," she replied. " I came in here to escape a dance. When I heard your foot-step I was startled for an instant, and in my flurry I caught my gown, here, on the curved foot of this table, and tore it." " I am very sorry," said Richard, as if he had been guilty. " Oh, you were not to blame," she said magnani mously. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " I regret the accident just the same," he repeated. " Well, nothing can be done by standing still. Can't you give me some pins ? " " Pins ! " he replied helplessly. " Yes, pins. Wait a moment," as with nimble fingers she extracted several pins from other parts of her at tire, and set about repairing the damage, humming to herself, meanwhile. " Oh, for just one more pin ! " she exclaimed, her hand flying around in rapid but vain search. " Will this do? " asked Richard, unfastening a small, jewelled pin which held his cloak. " That will do nicely," she assented. " Now I'm all right again," she cried with a merry laugh, as the pin disappeared in the folds of her garment. " You take your misfortunes lightly," he said. " Why, of course I do, and am I not to-night a gay lady-in-waiting? " and she made him an airy cour tesy. " Since we have met thus, my fair lady, I claim the privilege of a dance with you," he said with a bow. For answer she slipped her hand through his arm and turned away her face to hide a smile. As they went out into the hall he looked down to assure himself that she was just as beautiful as she had at first appeared. She raised her eyes to his face. There was a flash of merriment in them. " Why it is Constance Hartley ! " he cried. " You did not know me," she exclaimed with an ac cent of reproach. " I knew you from the very first." " I felt conscious all the time that I knew you," he maintained. " Only you were a little girl when I last MRS. QUINTIN-TAILER'S FETE 25 saw you, and now you have grown to be a woman, a beautiful woman ! " She shook her head. " I knew you," she repeated. " I do not think that I have changed as much as you imagine. It is night, and everything here looks beau tiful to-night. No, everything is not beautiful," she added in a whisper. Richard followed the direction of her eyes, and saw a heavy-faced young man dressed in wine-colored vel vet. On his arm was Cherida Delafield. " Let us take this path," said Miss Hartley, with de cision. " It is he whom I wish to avoid." " Why that is Charles Cadwell ! " exclaimed Richard. " Do you know him ? " she inquired. " Only as the son of a man who has business relations with my father." " And who is that lady with the pretty, blond hair and the affected manner, who is hanging on his arm? " " That is Mrs. Delafield, a friend " " Of yours ? " she asked, looking up into his face quickly. " Of my sister-in-law. Were you afraid of him ? " " Not exactly afraid, but he has been my bete noir this evening. I can't bear to have him come near me. I am glad they are not particular friends of yours," she said, looking at him with a smile. Mrs. Delafield soon had young Cadwell capering to her liking. He was immensely tickled by her droll af fectations, and vowed within himself that after all she was worth a dozen. If Cherida felt any pang of neglect because of Richard Haverland's absence from her side, she did not allow herself to be neglected by others, and 26 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY certainly proved herself, if not worth, at least equal to, a dozen. Richard Haverland and Constance Hartley walked away together. Their feet, entering into a conspiracy which they did not notice, led them among the trees, a little distance from the dancers, where she forgot her bete noir, and where the fair Cherida faded from Rich ard's mind. CHAPTER IV EICHARD PAYS, AND CHEEIDA LOSES On the day following Mrs. Quintin-Tailer's fete, all Richard Haverland's mind devoted itself to thoughts of Constance Hartley. He recalled how beautiful she looked in the old court-costume; he recalled how be- witchingly the hair insisted on curling about her fore head ; he recalled the sound of her voice and laughter, and finally, towards the end of the afternoon, he ordered his automobile with the intention of calling upon her. He was in the act of throwing off his coat to dress, when his hand, slipping into a side pocket, touched a little package of papers. Knitting his brows he searched through other pockets until he drew out the crumpled summons which had been the cause of such grief to Mrs. Delafield. " I suppose I must not neglect the affairs of my client," he thought regretfully, reading the names of " Brower and Butterworth, Attorneys for Judgment Creditor." And so instead of going towards Miss Hart ley's, his red automobile rolled down to the office of Brower and Butterworth. The office of Brower and Butterworth was palatial, with rooms furnished in mahogany, soft rugs upon the floors, and oil-painting of the progenitors of the firm hanging on the walls. Richard Haverland sat down in an easy-chair in the reception room. Half a dozen other men were there be- 27 28 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY fore him, waiting like the clients of a dentist for their turn in the chair. He looked at his watch with a sigh. In spite of the declaration of a certain love-blinded maiden, there is something in a name. If Romeo had been called Jeremiah Simpleton, he could not have ex cited in us the sympathy and interest which he does. Had Richard Haverland been of more obscure pedigree he might have been left to cool his heels for an hour in the ante-room of the busy lawyers. As it was, a few moments after his card had gone inside, he was escorted into the private office of Mr. Brower. Mr. Brower was a large gentleman with a large, grey head and a great reputation for shrewdness. " Mr. Brower," began Richard quickly, anxious to have the matter over with, " your firm are attorneys for Madame Franois in a judgment against a Mrs. Cherida Delafield. You have served Mrs. Delafield with a Sum mons in Supplemental Proceedings." " We are the attorneys for all the creditors, Mr. Hav erland," replied Mr. Brower in a deep impressive voice, " since the service of that paper all the other creditors have confided their interests to us ; the lady will be served with further papers at once." " Mr. Brower I should be very glad if this could be stopped. On behalf of Mrs. Delafield I ask for a little time." " I should very much like to oblige you, personally, Mr. Haverland, very much indeed, but your client has had all the time we feel we ought to grant," replied the dignified lawyer. " You cannot be aware how often she has put our clients off with promises." " Can't you say another three months ? " asked Rich ard. RICHARD PAYS, CHERIDA LOSES 29 Mr. Brower leaned back in his chair and studied Mr. Richard Haverland, meanwhile asking " Will she then be prepared to pay in full? " " Perhaps not in full, but she will doubtless be able to make some arrangement for partial payments." Mr. Brower had by this time drawn his own con clusions. " I am very sorry that we cannot give her another day," he said inflexibly. Richard Haverland looked at the large, immovable countenance of Mr. Brower ; then he looked at his watch ; the afternoon hour was growing late. " What is the total amount of the indebtedness ? " he asked. " The total amount of the claims with costs is over three thousand dollars, I believe. Do you want the ex act figures? I can give them to you if you'll wait a few minutes." Money to Richard Haverland was little more than a general term. He got up from his chair, " Inform me by mail as to the full amount, and I will send you a check." " Very well, sir," replied Mr. Brower politely. Richard took the package from his pocket and tossed it on to Mr. Brower's desk. " When everything is set tled up, send the receipted bills to me." " Certainly, Mr. Haverland," said Mr. Brower af fably, and the whole matter was disposed of then and there. Mrs. Cherida Delafield was relieved of the distressing necessity of showing her prettiest gowns and hats in court while she pleaded that poverty would prevent her paying her bills, and Richard Haverland, having kept 30 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY his promise, forgot the matter. For the most part he forgot Mrs. Delafield too; from one week's end to an other he saw little of the lady, his whole mind and attention being engrossed elsewhere. Cherida Delafield was piqued to find that although he had befriended her in the hour of her dire need, she was really nothing in his life. Having a husband, herself although in the Klondike it cannot be said that Cherida had fair ground for jealousy, but Cherida did not always stand upon fair ground, and it must be ad mitted that her heart was not in the Klondike. She felt sure that time would prove her a widow, or at least that Delafield had consoled himself with some fur-coated maiden, and that she was free to dispose of her own af fections ; or more accurately speaking, the mixture of sensations, emotions and self-interest, which in her psy chology took the place of affections. Although she was wrong in attributing Richard's neg lect of her to his devotion to another, for there is no evidence that he would have fallen in with her plans, she was right in her belief that his constant preoccupa tion was caused by another, and she was jealous, a little; but not enough to make pale her cheek, nor to cause her to lose her beauty sleep. It was then Charles Cadwell came into her life. He had danced attendance upon her ever since the night she had captivated him at the fancy dress ball, and partly as a pastime, partly to console herself for the neg lect of a more desirable suitor, she began by indulging in a flirtation with young Cadwell. He was not a bad looking fellow, when his tailor did his best; and he had that prodigality which passes as generosity, so Cherida, who had to have some squire, looked more and more kindly upon his attentions. RICHARD PAYS, CHERIDA LOSES 31 In her own mind she frankly considered him a fool, but here she was wrong. He was only dull, and where his own interests were concerned he was sharp enough. So while she had intended merely to amuse herself for a time with this humble quarry, and then let him go, she found herself suddenly entangled in something more serious than a summer-day flirtation. By this time Richard Haverland was hopelessly and forever out of her reach, and although she did not per mit herself any tears of regret, and was fain to make the best of a less desirable admirer with an outward show of lightness which was her gift, in the depth of her feline heart she was much chagrined, and nursed her jealousy all the more carefully, because impotently. CHAPTER V CONSTANCE HARTLEY On the evening of the day before that which had been marked in the calendar for Richard to become one of the numerous levers of the company of which his father was engineer-in-chief, his touring-car stood for so long a time before James Hartley's door that the chaffeur fell fast asleep, and Miss Veronica Hunnewell, who occu pied the top story front, across the way, was obliged to sit up several hours after her usual time for retiring, while she fulfilled her self-imposed duty of unofficial time-keeper. In the old-fashioned parlor Richard Haverland and Constance Hartley were alone together. As old Samuel had sapiently remarked, " Much can be accomplished in thirty days, if one is industrious," and Richard had been as industrious in his pursuits as the busy old father had been in his. Yet, at this moment, there was a look of suspense on the young man's face, as if the question still hung in doubt, and he was not certain that he could claim a victory. Constance's eyes were looking down, and there was an expression of deep seriousness upon her face. " I do not understand," said Richard, " it must be my vanity, but I thought I had only to speak. I do not think for a moment that you would deal unfairly with me, so the mistake must be all mine and yet I was so sure " CONSTANCE HARTLEY 33 She looked up. He caught an answering light in her eyes, and bending forward, whispered : " And I believe you do Constance ! " She put up her hand and checked him. " I never thought that you were a flirt ! " he said sternly. She looked at him quickly with an expression which revealed her heart. " I am not, Oh, I am not," she said. " I know you are not, but what is it, then? Won't you tell me ? " " It is the great difference in our social positions," she replied. " The difference in our social positions ! " he cried. " What an absurd whim ! What put that in your head ? We have known each other for years, and now all of a sudden you discover that there is a ' social gulf ' be tween us. I intend to bridge it." Again she checked him. " Richard, the gulf is a pe cuniary one, for we may be social equals." " No, not equals, Constance. You are far above me." For a moment the hand which he had taken remained in his. " But in point of wealth, Richard, you are so far above me I can never hope to have you for a husband." " Constance ! " he cried quickly, " you are laughing at me. It is unkind of you." " I am not laughing at you. Perhaps I spoke lightly, but my heart is heavy enough." " Are my father's millions to force me to be a celi bate?" exclaimed Richard. "I swear if you won't marry me I'll shave my head and turn monk But I am going to marry you, Constance. You love me. You 34 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY cannot look into my face, and say you do not. Then say ' Yes.' " " I dare not." " But why not? Why do you raise this obstacle now? My father is not in any marked degree richer today than he was a month ago. And why is my wealth, or his wealth, an obstacle anyway ? " " I will tell you," Constance replied slowly. " I have only recently learned of this obstacle myself, for I have aways considered myself the daughter of a very rich man Richard interrupted her, exclaiming: "Oh, money, always money ! Does everyone think that we Haver- lands care for nothing else? " " But rny father is not nearly as rich as is generally supposed " she continued. " Well, what of it? " You know perfectly well that I don't care if he hasn't a cent." " Wait until you hear all I have to say," she went on. " Father is greatly worried about his business. He says there is one man who is trying to force him to do some thing of which he does not approve, and which he will not do. He will fight against it to the last, but he may become ruined. We must be prepared for the worst." " Who is the man? " demanded Richard. " I don't know. Father will not tell us. He says he will not mention his name, even to us, until he actually begins his attack. My father is naturally very reticent. Mother and I understand how deeply he must feel to talk about it at all. Richard, my heart bleeds for him." " And so does mine, for he is your father, Constance. But this cannot prevent your marrying me. Far from it. Everything I have shall be yours, and his, if he can use it." CONSTANCE HARTLEY 35 " Suppose my father should fail entirely, suppose he should become a bankrupt ? " she asked earnestly. " All the more reason for your marrying me at once. No combination of men in this country can force your father out of business with the Haverlands back of him." "But Richard, if my father becomes a bankrupt, yours would never consent to our marriage." " Then I would not ask it," he said with determina tion. Again the expression on the girl's face revealed her heart, but she replied : " I cannot put you to such a test, I must not. You must not ask me, Richard." " I will ask you again and again, until you say ' yes.' ' " But wait, Richard, wait a year at least. Perhaps we may win the fight against this great man; who can tell? My father is a fighter!" She rose from her chair, her face flushed, and she clenched her hand. " I hate this man for he is cruel and unjust, and I hate in justice and cruelty!" " I hate him, too, Constance, if he wrongs any one dear to you." He took her hand and drew her toward him. " Don't ask me to wait. What will it avail ? If we love each other today, we shall a year from now and forever. Say ' yes ' now." The woman hesitated. " Say * yes ' now," he persisted. " I will not be the cause of dissension between you and your father," she answered firmly. " Your whole fu ture career may depend on my answer. If your father opposes, I cannot marry you." " But with his consent you will say ' yes? ' " demanded Richard eagerly. " Yes," she said in a low tone. " Then we need have little anxiety," laughed Richard 36 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY a moment later. " He has rarely refused me anything, and I am in particularly high favor at present, for to morrow I am going into business to plunge right into the pool, so to speak, with my father as swimming-mas ter. We are to have a very important meeting at which I am to be present. In a short time I am to be made one of the directors. What is the matter? Why do you look so troubled? " " Whenever you mention your father the feeling comes over me that he will never approve of our engagement." " He shall approve of it," cried Richard quickly. Constance put her hand on his arm. " You cannot force him, Richard." " I cannot force him, but it will not be necessary," he replied slowly. " You leave the matter to me." " You seem to have taken entire charge of it," replied Constance, a smile breaking through the serious expres sion on her face. CHAPTER VI RICHARD LOSES A POSITION Directors of the mystic number seven met in Samuel Haverland's private office, with old Samuel, chief wizard, in the chair. The faithful Walters acted as Secretary of the meet ing. He took notes carefully, writing the minutes up afterward in beautiful even characters, to the great de light of his own soul. Richard Haverland came in promptly. He took his seat opposite his father, and beside Silas Cotton. Cot ton was a stout, little man with a fringe of white hair around his head. He had been associated with Haver- land ever since Richard could remember. Opposite him sat William Craig. Craig had inherited a long purse from his father, and a long head as well. At thirty he was one of the shrewdest financiers in the country. He had a high, shining, smooth frontal which was rapidly receding toward the back of his head. In speech and manner he was also smooth. If there was any man In the country who could get the best of Samuel Haverland it was William Craig, but as yet he had not done so. Thomas Cadwell came in late, with his hat on the back of his head, and a big black cigar between his teeth. He put his hat down on the table with a slap in front of Silas Cotton, whom he overlooked, and kept his cigar going vigorously, much to that gentleman's annoyance. The other members of the board were striplings, con- 37 38 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY veniently supplied from Haverland's office force. They sat upon the edge of their chairs, endeavoring to appear wise, and looking very uncomfortable. " We are a little late, gentlemen," began Haverland, before Cadwell was fairly in his place, " so I will pro ceed at once to take up the important matter of this meeting." He leaned back in his chair, and, toying with his gold-rimmed eye-glasses, spoke in his most beneficent tone. " In all its branches of industry the Haverland Company has met, and in the main successfully over come, an important obstacle, namely, the business of competitors. Within the past few years it has, in the exercise of its parental authority, brought together all the plants which could in any possible way be useful to it, with the exception of a few insignificant concerns and one very old and still influential firm. This large firm has been given every opportunity to come into the fold, but strangely enough has refused to entertain our ad vances, returning the inconsequent answer that it pre fers to manage its affairs in its own way, according to old standards, rather than avail itself of the advantages of modern business methods, and be guided by the intel ligence of one head, working in the interest of, and re sponsible to, all the other members of the body-corpo rate." Haverland cleared his throat, put on his glasses, and looked around the table at the other directors. A chuckle sounded in Cotton's throat. " That's like Hart ley," he piped. " I knew we should have trouble with him. He never did like to play second fiddle." Richard started and seemed about to speak when his father resumed. *' Therefore there is only one thing to be done, to give this concern an object lesson in mod ern business methods, and show them the folly of their RICHARD LOSES A POSITION 89 position. This will have a salutary effect upon other concerns." " In other words, spank them well and then renew the offer," said Silas Cotton cheerfully. " No, Silas. In that way the whole moral effect would be lost. Hartley & Co. have had their chance. If they are ever permitted to come into the fold it will have to be upon the basis of the value of their plant at that time. The longer they fight the greater will be the decrease in its value." Richard Haverland was becoming more and more agitated. Cotton rubbed his hands together. " Squeeze 'em, Haverland, squeeze 'em." " Like a lemon, Cotton," said Cadwell with a wink, puffing steadily at his cigar. Cotton's shrill voice was heard offering a resolution. " I move that the president be given full power to act in the Hartley matter as he deems for the best interests of this company, and that he report results at the next meeting of the board." " That will cover the point," said Craig, " I second it." " You have heard the motion, gentlemen," began the chairman. " Although not a director, I should like to ask a few questions," said Richard Haverland. Everyone looked at him, for as yet he had not spoken. " Certainly, Richard," said his father, secretly much pleased. " How do we know that we can teach Hartley a les son? How de we know beforehand that we can win the fight? " 40 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Walters, rubbing some gold pieces together in his palm, smiled almost broadly. Old Samuel put the tips of his fingers together and spoke with deliberation. " The only light which we have comes to us from the lamp of experience. As a new director your apprehension, or I should say your caution, is natural, but I think I can assure you as to the final outcome." " Will a prolonged warfare be costly ? " " It will be to somebody." " Could we hold our own against Hartley under pres ent conditions ? " " Conditions are sure to vary." " But have we as good a chance as he? " " Better." " Then why not let him live? " demanded Richard earnestly. " Why not be satisfied with our large and profitable share, and let him enjoy his small percentage of the business? " " What ! " exclaimed Walters under his breath, in his horror dropping a gold coin on the floor. " We must get everything that belongs to us, we can be satisfied only with the entire business," replied old Samuel. Richard was silent and thoughtful. William Craig rubbed his smooth forehead gently with the tips of liis slender fingers, and watched the two men with great in terest. " Gentlemen, you have heard the resolution. All those in favor of it signify their approval by saying ' Aye.' ' Haverland looked around at the members of the board as they expressed their approval. " I think we are unanimous," he said pleasantly. " No, we are not." Richard spoke with a suddenness RICHARD LOSES A POSITION 41 which made the boy directors jump. Cadwell shifted his cigar and took another look at the young man. " I beg your pardon, Richard," said his father po litely. " I thought the discussion ended. I was not aware that you had a vote." " Although I have no vote I must express myself in regard to that resolution if I sit here." For once in his life old Samuel showed surprise. " Do I understand that you are opposed to the line of policy outlined in this resolution? " " I am, very strongly." Old Samuel polished his glasses, adjusted them care fully, and looked closely at his son. " Don't you think it good business policy, Richard ? " " It may be good business policy. I don't know ; I am not familiar enough with the subject " " Well, well," said old Samuel with some impatience, drumming on the table, " I am afraid we are wasting time. The Secretary will " '* One moment ! " Richard Haverland rose to his feet, and looked earnestly across the table. Old Haverland looked intently at his son. Richard's mouth assumed an expression much like his father's; there was a flash in his eye which was like his father's. He had the beauty and strength of youth, but the resemblance between the two men suddenly became striking. The indomitable will of the old man was visible in every line of the young man. " I am opposed to this resolution," began Richard Haverland quietly, " because The Hartley Company is an old established, highly respected house. Its name is a synonym for honesty and fair dealing. I tliink we ought to be generous." Richard paused and looked 42 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY into the faces of the directors as if for some reply. They were unresponsive and expressionless. " Is that all? " asked old Samuel. " I oppose this resolution because James Hartley was once a friend of yours; he is still a friend of mine, a man whom I respect and honor. I have sat at his table and eaten his bread. I could no more vote for this reso lution than I could stab him in the back. I beg of you to reconsider it." There was a ring in his voice which gave even Thomas Cadwell a momentary stir in the region of the heart. " Those sentiments are very creditable, Richard," said old Samuel dryly. " You plead our friend's case very well. It pleases me to hear you in command of so much eloquence. It will be of great advantage to you if you should ever practice law ; but we must not forget that the Haverland Manufacturing Company was organized to do business. The Secretary will record a unanimous vote in favor of the resolution." Richard Haverland looked into his father's face. Samuel Haverland looked calmly back at him. The flint in the old man struck the steel in the son. It was Rich ard's eye that flashed angrily for an instant, then he re plied calmly : " I regret that I must withdraw from this meeting. Gentlemen, I wish you good morning," and he walked quickly from the room. As the door closed behind him, Samuel Haverland took up the word again with com posure, as if nothing had happened to distrub him. " Is there any further business to come before the board today ? " " Nothing," replied the Secretary. The meeting adjourned. The clerks went back to their desks in the outer office with the gold pieces grow- RICHARD LOSES A POSITION 43 ing warm in their pockets. Silas Cotton hurried away to attend another board-meeting. William Craig took his director's fee and his departure ; and Walters, gather ing up his papers, retired to his desk to write up the minutes, and to ponder over the astonishing conduct of Richard Haverland. Samuel Haverland and Thomas Cadwell were left alone. " Mr. Haverland," said Cadwell, tossing his half- smoked cigar into the cuspidor and leaning over the table, " I want to have a little talk with you." " I can give you," replied Samuel Haverland, looking at his watch, " fifteen minutes." " I want to ask you frankly, you know I never beat around the bush how do you stand in regard to the Senatorship ? " " It is a long way off," replied old Samuel. " Let me see, it is three years off." " One has to take time by the forelock in these mat ters, and I tell you frankly that I have had a grip on that forelock for some time past. How do you stand in regard to it ? " Samuel Haverland was thoughtful for a few mo ments. " You know I never go into politics myself, but I can think of no one who would fill the position with greater credit than you." " I am glad to hear you say that," replied Cadwell. "I wanted to be sure that you did not favor William Craig." The expression in Mr. Haverland's eyes was so grati fying to Cadwell that he smiled as he asked : " Then I can count upon your support ? " " Upon my moral support, yes, Mr. Cadwell. You know when we first entered into what has proved so 44 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY agreeable and so profitable an alliance, it was understood that in all matters relating to the Manufacturing Com pany my wishes were to be paramount, while in turn I was to leave the political end to you. Your ambition points toward the Senate. I think that you will be a great addition to that distinguished body. I am sure that our interests will not suffer if you attain the goal. You shall have my support my moral support and my sincere wishes for your success." Having delivered himself at this length, Samuel Hav- erland gave Mr. Cadwell one of his mirthless smiles, and looked at his watch. " That is all I want to know," replied Thomas Cad- well briskly, getting up and shaking his associate's dry hand. " We are in perfect accord," and he went off in a very pleasant frame of mind. CHAPTER VII KICB.AKD BELONGS TO HIMSELF If at dinner that evening Samuel Haverland talked more than was his custom his loquacity veiled an emotion deeper than he ever allowed himself to betray. But if old Samuel was unusually talkative, Richard was unusually reserved, and he sat without opening his mouth, except to eat his dinner, and that very sparingly. As soon as he had finished, he rose, and with the cloud still upon his brow, started to walk slowly out of the room. Haverland stopped him with a quick : " Richard, can you spare me a few minutes ? " Silently the son turned and followed his father into his private library. Old Samuel closed the door, and motioned his son to a seat. The room was more of an office than a library. A flat green-topped desk was in the centre; the chairs were leather-covered and stiff- backed ; while on the book-shelves were rows of black- bound, reportorial looking volumes, indicating a statis tical rather than a literary or aesthetic taste. " Richard, why did you oppose me at the board-meet ing this morning? " asked Haverland. " Because I could not agree with you ; I felt that I was in the right." Old Samuel's eye-brows lifted slightly, and the dry smile came to the corners of his mouth. " H'm," he said. " I am anxious to learn your real motive." 45 46 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " You do know it. Although Hartley may be no longer a friend of yours, he is a friend of mine." " I have no ill-will toward Hartley. I'm sure I wish him well," replied Haverland, putting the tips of his fingers together. " Have you any strong reason for wishing his friendship ? " " Yes." "May I ask what it is?" " I love his daughter." Haverland showed neither annoyance nor surprise. Richard maintained an outward calm which equalled that of his father. Old Samuel spoke meditatively. " Let me see, she is that little girl with curly hair and bright eyes. The last time I saw her was at one of the church sociables. She had on short skirts." Richard answered with the same exactness. " I do not think that you have noticed her for five years or more. She does not wear short skirts now." Samuel Haverland looked thoughtfully at his son. " And so you have fallen in love with Hartley's little girl and want to marry her." " Yes." " And no other girl will do? " Richard made no reply. " Well, I can see no objection to your marrying this one." " Do you mean that you give your consent? " cried Richard. " Yes, most certainly." Richard seized his father's cold hand. " You are most generous. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for yielding, and my happiness is increased ten RICHARD BELONGS TO HIMSELF 47 fold by the thought that Hartley will not be forced out of business by you." " That is a different matter," said his father. Richard dropped the hand as if it had been hot iron. " Aren't you going to have the resolution rescinded? " he cried. " It has not occurred to me to do so." " But I do not understand ! I thought you meant " " I said all that I meant. I have no objection to your marrying Miss Hartley." " But how can you do anything that will work injury to the father of the woman I love? " exclaimed Richard. " There is another way of looking at the matter. Hartley is responsible for his own injury by refusing to yield to the inevitable. He might have enjoyed a hand some income for the rest of his life if he had chosen. We do not ruin him." " Nevertheless he will be ruined by results springing from your action of today." Haverland nodded. " And he is her father," said Richard. He rose to his feet, and began to pace the floor. " When she learns of your attitude toward her father do you sup pose she will marry me ? " " I think she will jump at you." Old Samuel per mitted a light of admiration to creep into his eyes for a moment. " You can marry whom you choose. You can have all the money you want. As your father-in-law Hartley need never come to want. Only you must prom ise not to advance him any money to sink in his busi ness," he added with his dry smile. " No," replied Richard firmly. " If I accept the res olution you passed today I can not marry Miss Hartley." " You are mistaken. I wanted to show you that it 48 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY was not at all a question of money. Business principle is involved," replied the father. " It amounts to the same thing." " Not at all." Samuel Haverland waited patiently for a few moments, then he continued : " Those who do not know me call me mean and sordid; is that your opinion ? " " To me you have always been most generous," said Richard. " Look at the stub of my check-book, and it will tell you whether or not I am miserly." " I do not need to see it. I know how liberally you spend and give your money." " If I have wealth it is not because I have hoarded it avariciously, but because I have never wasted a cent of money, a moment of time, nor a single opportunity ; nor have I ever been turned aside in business by any foolish sentiment." Richard sat down in a chair opposite his father, and leaning across the desk, said earnestly : " There is al ways one exception ; make this yours. Have the resolu tion rescinded. Let Hartley & Company continue in business, at least as long as James Hartley lives. Let us be content with smaller profits in order that he may have some." " This is not a question of Hartley's profits. For your sake I would gladly pay him the sum annually, but again I tell you, there is a deeper principle involved, that of business interests " " Can't they be put aside for once ? " interrupted Richard eagerly " For once allow ' foolish sentiment ' to prevail." " What you ask is impracticable. You must remem ber that beside my own I have other interests to look RICHARD BELONGS TO HIMSELF 49 after, the interests of those who trust to my judgment." " You have never denied me anything until now," said Richard. " I only wish you had, for this is every thing." " I repeat that you can marry this girl if you will. When she refuses you it will be time to talk of being denied." " Do you think that I can ruin her father, perhaps break her heart and then marry her? But she would not marry me." " Ask her," suggested Haverland. Richard rose to his feet and slowly walked the floor. Stopping before his father he asked quietly : " Will nothing move you? Are you determined to crush Hart- ley?" " If he persists in standing in the way, he will be, as you say, crushed." A look of awe was in Richard's eyes as he asked : " Has everyone who has stood in your way been crushed ? " " Every obstacle has been removed. I deal with af fairs and with men as the times demand. Whatever I touch I must own." He spoke slowly, looking at his son calmly with his fathomless eyes. " And must I do this ? " asked Richard in a low tone. " If you would keep your fortune you must follow in my footsteps. You must never let your grasp relax. If you let power slip from your hands for a moment it will be wrested from you." " But I cannot do this ! " cried his son. " You can," replied his father. You have the strength of ten men such as I. Oh, how I envy you your energy ! What a capacity for work it will give you. 50 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY I have had you trained expressly for the fight. With your strength and brains none can equal you. You shall surpass them all ! " " And you have done so much for me just for this? " asked Richard sadly. " Did you not do it because you loved me ? " " I did it because you were worth it, is that not reason enough? Ever since you were three years old I have cared for you constantly. It was then I first really noticed you, but even at that age you were finer and braver than other children. It was no foolish parent's blind affection. I saw at a glance the possibilities of your development ; from that moment everything I could devise was done for you. Ungrudgingly I spent a for tune on your education. As you grew, I noted with joy your force of character. I saw you could not easily be spoiled by freedom, so I let you have it. You are the finest man in the world, and you belong to me." " No, I belong to myself," replied Richard. " I owe you very much. But you have done so much for me that you owe me still more. You owe it to me to spare Hartley. He is the flesh and blood of the woman I love." The two men looked at each other in silence for a few moments. " No, Richard," answered Haverland slowly, " I can not yield to you in this." " I will not stand quietly by and see you do this," said Richard. " What will you do ? " asked his father. " I shall have to leave you." For the second time in his life Samuel Haverland was startled by his son. " Why, you can't get on without me. Every morsel you have eaten has been provided by me. The clothes RICHARD BELONGS TO HIMSELF 51 on your back have been paid for by me. Your horses, your yacht, your automobiles, the watch in your pocket, the ring on your finger, all come from the same source from me." " That is all true," assented Richard quietly. " Why, how can you get along in the world without me, without my money ? " repeated his father. " With the brain which I have inherited from you ; with the education which you have paid for; with the strength which I possess." Half unconsciously Richard stretched out his muscular arms. " I feel so strong I fear no conflict," he said simply. " You could earn a living digging in a ditch," re marked his father dryly. " Yes," assented Richard, " I could." Again there was a short silence. " Richard, you spoke a few moments ago of a senti ment called love. Doubtless you recognize a sentiment known as filial love, or at least filial duty. Can you rec oncile that with cutting loose from me and leaving me as easily as though I were a stranger ? " " I am not ungrateful to you, sir. God knows I am not, but since I have had this talk with you I am the more determined to go out and make my own way in the world. I do not cut loose from you in anger. If you could read my heart you would see that I do not leave you easily." " So this is the result of my labor? At the first dif ference of opinion the son disowns the father," continued Haverland, grimly. " I do not disown my father," said Richard. " I can not forget that he is my father, nor what he has done for me ; but henceforth I must do for myself. You spoke the truth when you said that everything I have, to 52 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY the very clothes on my back, came from you, but in spite of this bounty you cannot control my actions for right or wrong. I am the keeper of my own conscience." " I do not seek to control your actions. You may keep your own conscience, only in business affairs you had better be guided by me until you have had more ex perience," said Haverland. " No," replied Richard, " I must not. I must judge for myself, and I must judge now. Later it will be too late. For all the money in the world I would not have had this difference arise between us, but it has arisen. If you cannot change, neither can I. Good bye, father." There was a tremor in Richard's voice, and Haverland felt the grasp of his son's hand long after he had gone. " This is your own doing, not mine," said Haverland. " Let us say that it is the doing of Business Interests," replied Richard ; " it is far better that it should come now, at the very beginning, and that we should part, friends." " When you find out what the world really is you will come back," said Haverland. Richard was silent, he still held his father's hand. " Remember that this is your home, and that you will always find the door open to you." Richard could not remember that his father had ever kissed him ; he could not recall that his father had ever taken him in his arms. With a sudden impulse of affec tion he raised the impassive hand to his lips. " Good bye, father," and old Samuel was left alone. CHAPTER VIII RICHARD WINS A BRIDE Miss Veronica Hunnewell, from the chamber window where she kept her vigil, gave a little cry of surprise when she saw him, whom she hailed spiritually as her Greek Hero, arrive at the Hartley mansion, not in his flaming red chariot, heralded by a whirl of dust and a trumpeting of exploding gasoline, but on foot, walking rapidly down the street and running up the steps to be quickly hidden from her sight by the relentless closing of the door. However this seemingly hard-hearted door spared the heart of Veronica a pang, for no sooner had it closed than Constance's hand was in Richard's. That which followed was seen only by the door; its polished oaken face shone responsively, but what it beheld on such occasions it never divulged even by the faintest squeak. " I have much to tell you, Constance," he said, sitting down near her in the old library. But instead of telling her at once, he sat looking into the expectant face. " Well," she began, " were you a success as a business man? Did you astonish them with your knowledge of affairs? " " Yes, I astonished them." From the tone of his voice or the look in his eye, she instantly divined a tragedy. Catching his hand she whispered : " He knows about it already. You have told him." " Yes, I have told him." 63 54 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY She threw up her head proudly. " And he says that I am not a suitable person for his son, that I am not rich enough, and you must give me up " she hesitated " must give me up or accept the alternative. I cannot be the cause of misfortune to you, I must not. I told you I would not. You will have to give me up." And for a moment she held his hand closer to her heart. " No, he does not ask me to give you up, he says that I may marry you." " He says that? " she cried out in surprise. " He really wishes it? And to think that I misjudged him!" Richard looked at her, his strong face showing his agitation. " Constance, you told me that some one was trying to force your father into a certain position against his will that if he resisted he might be ruined. The man who is doing this is my father my own father." She started back from him as if he had given her a blow, then as she looked at him the expression on her face changed to one of pity. She held out her hand suddenly, giving and asking sympathy. " Mr. Hartley is an obstacle in his way ; he will crush him unless he yields," said Richard. She had turned very pale, but now a flush came to her cheek, and her hand clenched. " He will not yield ! Not when he is in the right. He shall not yield to your father. I will not have him." " Before you knew who it was, you said you hated him. Now that you do know I suppose you hate him still more. And I am his son. I suppose you will hate me." The tone was tender in which she replied : " You do not really think that. You do not really think so poorly RICHARD WINS A BRIDE 55 of me as to believe I could hold you responsible for the wrongdoing of another." " Do not condemn my father too harshly," said Rich ard with sudden earnestness. " He is moved by what he considers the large interests confided to his care." " For your sake and for your sake only, I will not condemn him," she said gently. " He is controlled by a fixed purpose which nothing can shake. I did everything I could to change it. I argued and pleaded with him, but it was useless. We cannot see things in the same light. We could never agree." " Did you quarrel with your father? " she asked anxiously. " No, he never quarrels, he merely dominates. He insisted that I should agree with him in carrying out the business policy of the Haverland Company. I refused And then we separated, but we did not separate in anger. I shall go to his house to see him and my mother but I shall no longer accept my living from his hands. I must earn it myself." The girl looked at him appealingly. " I feared it would happen. I did not know exactly how, but I feared something like this would happen. And I am the cause of it, after all." " No, you are not," replied Richard quickly. " It would have been the same if you had never existed. Upon certain points my father and I could never agree." " Are you sure absolutely sure ? " she asked with intensity. " I am sure," he answered. " And now the thing is done. It cannot be undone. It must be. You are not the cause of it. You must believe that, for he did not even oppose my marrying you." 56 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Constance smiled sadly. " And now I am without a cent," Richard continued. " I am nobody. I have nothing. I love you more than ever, now that I must give you up." The girl started, then she looked at him yearningly. " Richard, I have given you my heart. I cannot take it back. Wherever you go my heart goes with you. Whatever happens I shall always love you." " I know that," he said gently, " but I must release you from any obligation to marry me. Your father will never consent to your marrying a man with nothing in the world but these." He stretched out his arms like a young giant who had as yet not tried his strength. Somehow, when he brought them down they encircled the girl. " It is not because we lack confidence in each other's love," he said tenderly, " but I must leave you free. I must not come between you and your parents." She looked up in his face, saying, " My father and mother would do anything in the world where my happi ness is concerned. And in this case where it means you Oh, you need me now ! You need me more than ever, now that you have given up everything else." He kissed her, saying: " But you do not understand how far beneath you in the social scale I now am. Why, I may have to be a day-laborer, just as my father suggested." " Then I shall be the woman who brings the pail." " You have been brought up in luxury " " And have not you ? " she replied quickly. " It is different with me. I am a man, and should know what the rough places in life are like. I must think of you." RICHARD WINS A BRIDE 57 " That was all settled when I told you that I loved you. The future must be alike for both of us." " I feel little anxiety as to the future," cried the young man. " It seems to me at this moment as if nothing could withstand me, as if I could dominate the world." " You are the strongest man in the world," said the girl admiringly. " I'm not as strong as Terry Dunbar," replied Rich ard sportively. " In character and strength of purpose you are the strongest man I have ever known, and I shall always trust you, through this world and through all eternity." At the moment when Richard Haverland leaned for ward and kissed her, Samuel Haverland, alone in his study a few city blocks away, rose from his well-worn leather chair, slowly sipped a glass of milk handed him by a servant, and looked placidly at the wall while he adjusted his mind for sleep. The Haverland Company was not the only iron which old Samuel had in the commercial fire. He had almost as many interests as there were industries. The sturdy antagonism of Hartley had aroused him, and he now concentrated all his thought and energy on the immedi ate annihilation of this business rival. This once ac complished he would be able to employ himself oleas- antly and profitably in many other directions. So he spent the evening quietly planning the destruc tion of the Hartley Company. He laid all his plans with the careful patience and the exact detail of a Na poleon preparing for a campaign, and like Napoleon he loaded the dice when the emergency demanded. As he looked over the rim of the glass of milk at the trim pat tern of the wall paper, he seemed to be looking into the 58 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY future, seeing every move of his adversary, and, like a skilful chess-player, quietly preparing the check. The final result was a foregone conclusion. Samuel Haverland wiped the last drops of milk from his lips, and took his body and his quiet mind off to their natural rest. In his own study, James Hartley still continued to sit at his desk. He had more at stake than Haverland ; and he was fighting against great odds. Meanwhile Richard and Constance were sitting in the library. " Where is your father? " asked Richard. " He is in his private room, working. He is working too hard," replied Constance, with a sigh. " I will go up and speak with him." " You are going to tell him " That we wish to be married, yes." " Had I not better tell him first? " she asked with some solicitude. " No, I want to ask his consent," replied Richard. " He may refuse you. My father is not difficult to get on with, if you understand him. Your father did not understand him " " Have no such fears about me," replied Richard. " Nothing shall disturb the friendly relations which have existed between Mr. Hartley and me." James Hartley was deeply absorbed in a host of fig ures when he heard a knock at the door, and bade his visitor enter. The vivid electricity from the drop-light blinded him as he looked up from his work, and he did not see at once who it was that entered. " Good evening, Mr. Hartley." Hartley pushed the lamp aside in order to see the RICHARD WINS A BRIDE 59 speaker, and then answered with marked coldness: " Good evening, Mr. Haverland." " I hope that you will excuse my coming in upon you so unceremoniously, but it was so late I could not find a servant to announce me." Hartley met this overture with silence. He looked at Richard Haverland searchingly, but there was no light of greeting in his usually pleasant blue eyes. " You may be surprised to see me here at this late hour," began Richard, seating himself and looking at his intended father-in-law earnestly. Hartley replied coldly : " I have been so much occu pied that I have had time to notice little, but in view of my present relations with your father it would seem more fitting for you not to be here at all." " On the contrary I want to come frequently. I want to be your friend, Mr. Hartley." " Do you come from your father? " asked Hartley, flushing. " Unfortunately, No." " Mr. Haverland, there can be no friendship between you and me." " My dear sir," cried Richard earnestly, coming up to him with extended hand, " you and I must not let any thing affect our friendship. Indeed we must not. I love your daughter." Hartley ignored his hand and looked at him in silence. " I love your daughter, sir," repeated Richard, " and I have come to ask your consent to our marriage, but that cannot be much of a surprise to you." " By God, sir, it is a surprise to me ! " cried Hartley, bringing his fist down upon the table. " After what has taken place between Samuel Haverland and me, I wonder at your being in my house. I am amazed that you 60 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY should wish to enter my family. Do you think that the son of a man who is ruining my business can ever be my son-in-law? " " We can not regulate the sentiments of our heart by the rules of business," replied Richard quietly, " and I love your daughter." " Mr. Haverland," said Hartley, " I cannot help lik ing you in spite of your name, but your father and I are engaged in the bitterest of conflicts. There can be no alliance between us. You know he would not consent to it, and I would not, even if he would." " I wish you would reconsider, sir," said Richard. " There is nothing to reconsider. Why, suppose I should let my daughter marry you, people would think I did it hoping to make my peace with your father." " And would you care what people thought as long as you knew that you did it because you loved your daughter? " " I know this, if you insist on plain speaking, I would rather see Constance dead in her coffin than to see her with the name of Haverland. I hate that name, because I hate your father." " I still think, sir, that you and I can be friends," replied Richard with quiet persistence, " and I shall always love your daughter." " No one but your father and the devil within him knows how he has harassed me during the past year. He has slowly driven me into a corner and nows says : ' stand and deliver.' I am standing at bay, but I will not de liver. I will fight him to the end, and I will hate him to the end." Hartley did not see Constance standing in the door way; he did not know that his daughter was in the room until he felt her arms around his neck. RICHARD WINS A BRIDE 61 " Do you hate his name more than you love me, father?" " You have me at a disadvantage, Constance," he said, putting his large hand over both of hers, and trying to laugh. " No, but do you, father? " " I love you with all my heart, my dear little girl." " And I love that name," she whispered. " Constance, this is not fair, listen to reason." " Listen, you, to reason, father. There does not seem as though there could be any other name for me than Haverland." " I suppose that you will give us all up for this newer love," said Hartley bitterly. " I have promised to marry Richard," she replied, " and I cannot give him up now " Her father's brow darkened. " Neither can I give you up. It would break my heart, so I am trying to keep you both " She bent over him tenderly with her face close to his " for I love you, too." When he looked up he saw that they were alone. " Call him back," he said, deeply moved. When Richard came into the room, he held out his hand to Hartley. " We shall be friends, sir? " Hartley rose from his chair. " You can have her if you can meet the situation," he replied, " but I don't see how you can. It is war between your father and me, bitter, relentless war. You cannot be in both camps. In marrying my daughter you will be giving up all idea of ever getting your father's money. You will have to work to support your wife, for the chances are I can do nothing for you." " I expect to work to support my wife, and as for my fortune I have already given that up. My father 62 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY and I are agreed upon that point," replied Richard quietly. " What ! " cried Hartley. " He has disinherited you because you wanted to marry my daughter ! " " No, he has not the slightest objection to that. I left him because we could not agree as to the method of conducting business. For one thing I was opposed to a resolution passed by the board in relation to the Hart ley Company." " You have quarreled with your father because of his unjust attitude toward me, and not because of Con stance ? " exclaimed Hartley in amazement. " We agreed to separate because of certain differences of opinion in regard to business matters," replied Rich ard. " Why did you not tell me of this at first? " asked Hartley. " Why, I came to tell you that I love your daugh ter " Hartley took Richard by the hand. " You may think that you gave up fortune and position for the sake of principle, but you gave them up for the sake of Con stance. I like you none the less for that." CHAPTER IX OLD SAMUEL'S DINNER PAK.TY The working method of the Haverland Company was admirably simple, like that of the boa-constrictor. Having decided that " Business Interests " demanded the extinction of a rival, it first crushed the rival, and then swallowed it. Old Samuel stayed in the city during the very hot summer to superintend in person the work of crushing his old friend's business. He cheerfully put aside all vacation for the enjoyment of the work in hand, to which a keener zest was given in the thought that he was doing his full duty by the Company's stockholders, whose interests naturally took precedence in his mind over all such minor considerations as honesty, generosity and fair play. But Hartley refused to yield. With incor rigible obstinacy he fought on through one long, cruel year and into a second. Old Samuel viewed this ob stinacy on the part of Hartley with pained surprise, for logically he should have given in at a much earlier pe riod. However, discouragement was not one of Haver- land's failings. Resistance only bred in him greater determination, and he was richly rewarded by seeing the rival company grow weaker and weaker in its struggle for existence, until assignment was written after the name which for generations had been a synonym for honesty and fair-dealing in the trade. Possibly to celebrate this event, or possibly from ex- 63 64 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY uberance of good-fellowship it being the end of the fiscal year and a time for merry-making old Samuel gave a dinner party. Although counting noses it was a small dinner party, counting dollars it was a very large affair. There were four pairs of neatly creased trousers under the board, and a hand inserted in any one of their pockets might have extracted a fortune ; that is, if these gentlemen had carried their fortunes in their breeches pockets. William Craig, with his shining forehead, and looking as trim as if he had been pressed in his dress clothes, was there. He could have shown by figures that the combined wealth of these four gentlemen, if changed into golden eagles and placed edge to edge, would ex tend from the North Atlantic coast to the Mississippi River; if gathered together in one pile it would require more than a hundred freight cars to move it; and if coined into silver but here Mr. Craig's figures would stagger the imagination, or perhaps arouse a discussion as to the rate of coinage. Although Mr. Haverland himself was content with the simplest fare he entertained his friends royally, for the feast marked the successful issue of these gentlemen's plans; it celebrated the firmer welding of thoir business interests, and was to inaugurate further schemes in their enjoyment of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness and dollars. At his end of the table Samuel Haverland ate spar ingly of the choice viands with as much apparent relish as if they were sawdust and water, but he knew that Thomas Cadwell loved a good dinner, and therefore he had given strict orders that the wines should be of that exact quality of dryness and of the exact temperature demanded by the palate of the epicurean. OLD SAMUEL'S DINNER PARTY 65 No business meeting or social gathering at the Haver- lands was complete without Silas Cotton. He had al ways managed to make himself useful to Haverland. He had ridden into fortune on the skirts of his patron's coat. To him Haverland represented goodness and bounty, the fountain of prosperity, the source of wisdom and wealth. Silas would have sooner thought of ignor ing the archangel's trumpet than of neglecting a call to a Haverland board meeting. And he never failed to accept an invitation to dine, for there was more than crumbs to be picked up at such a board. Of ladies, there was Mrs. Haverland, with a gentle, kindly face and a subdued manner; there was Mrs. Mil dred Haverland, who had planned every detail of the dinner, and who looked very handsome in white brocade and pearls; and there were Mrs. Thomas Cadwell and her daughter Helen, a young girl in her first season, who was looking at the world through a pair of inquiring eyes. In this velvet world every comfort and luxury which the mind of man could devise waited upon these eight, and each enjoyed it after his own fashion. Samuel Haverland seemed as indifferent to the splen dor as he was to the food. If the rare paintings and costly furniture gave him pleasure he showed none ; from all expression on his face his surroundings might have been bare floors and whitewashed walls. If he had any warmth of friendship for Cotton or for Cadwell, it lay concealed in the innermost recesses of his secretive being. The meal was over; the table-talk, which Haverland had endured with his customary silence, fell into a lull ; the ladies went into the drawing-room, leaving the gen tlemen to their cigars and their conversation. As the last gown rustled through the doorway, 66 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Thomas Cadwell, with a sigh of contentment, lit his cigar. Craig selected a mild panatella, and carefully cut off the end. Neither Haverland nor Cotton smoked, because they thought it injurious and expensive. Craig smoked thoughtfully. Cadwell sent up a fragrant cloud, enjoying the pleasurable lassitude which follows a good dinner. Cotton blinked at the candles on the table ; and Haverland, never at a loss for silence, waited while the butler filled the glasses with cordial. " Since we last met," began the host, in his mild man ner, looking around the table at his guests, " an event has occurred, which, if not of vast importance in itself, is worthy of note in the annals of commerce." " Hartley & Company have gone up the flume," said Thomas Cadwell. " Yes, I refer to the passing of the old firm of Hart ley, which a few days ago made an assignment." Silas Cotton grew reminiscent over his cordial. " Why, I remember old Caleb Hartley who founded the business I'm older than you, Samuel, and then there was James, the father of the present Hartley, Haverland interrupted his old friend with a blandness which had the touch of a rebuke. " The firm has had a long and prosperous career. It was a landmark for many years. It is a pity that it could not have kept more in touch with the modern spirit of business, but its last head seemed entirely unable to grasp the situation, and the result was naturally quick decay." " Peace to its ashes," said Craig, " and now what do we get out of it ? " " We, with our improved methods, fall heir to the business. The trade is naturally there, and I think with the right kind of treatment it will increase materially, OLD SAMUEL'S DINNER PARTY 67 now that the disturbing element of competition has been removed. Its manager, Mr. Oakes, is a very good man. I think him reliable, efficient and trustworthy. I hav engaged him to take charge of one of our departments at a larger salary than he has been receiving." All the gentlemen expressed their approval of the ar rangement, and their pleasure at the good fortune which had befallen Mr. Oakes. " Well, that matter is disposed of," said Cadwell with an air of satisfaction, and he looked at Haverland ex pectantly. " I want to impress upon you all," said Haverland softly, " that it is a matter of deep regret to me that James Hartley did not accept the offer I made him. His stubbornness has cost us something, and has cost him much." " Hartley always was a pugnacious fellow," remarked Cotton, who was persistently reminiscent. " Do you re member the time he blacked your eye at school ? " " There is another matter which claims our attention," said Samuel Haverland, passing on quietly. '* It is im portant that the next Board of Aldermen should be friendly." He had a far-away look in his eyes as if he were peering into the future. " We have acquired the control of the various traction companies throughout the city, but the franchises of some of these companies will soon expire. The disposition of some members of the community seems towards demanding a percentage of the earnings in return for these privileges. In some in stances the figures mentioned are ridiculously high. By some there is even talk of public ownership. All this creates a very chaotic condition of affairs. We are per fectly willing to pay for these new franchises, but it must be a sum which we consider fair, and not what a 68 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY public, ignorant of the real conditions, thinks we should pay; not what a demagogue in the Legislature declares we should be made to pay. We can estimate what our earnings will be. We know how much stock is going to be issued, and we object strenuously to being held up and made to pay some exorbitant sum which will run along indefinitely, and be a constant drain upon our resources." Samuel Haverland looked around the table. " You agree with me, gentlemen, do you not? " Silas Cotton blinked his appreciation. Craig indi cated his assent in a low tone. " You will therefore be relieved to learn," continued Mr. Haverland, " that our friend, Mr. Cadwell, who, as you all know, is a leader in the political world, has as sured me that the nominations this fall will be such as to meet with our general approval." His friends and co-workers nodded their approval, while Mr. Cadwell smoked complacently. " Then, there is the District Attorney ship," said old Samuel. " In a community where we have such large interests at stake it is a matter of the greatest impor tance that a safe man should be elected to that office, a man in whom we can feel perfect confidence. Again, our friend Cadwell has given a good deal of time and thought to the subject, and he tells me that he has a man in view whom he thinks a very available candidate." The others looked at Mr. Cadwell, who said : " I am in favor of Joseph Butterworth, and I'll tell you why. Butterworth is a rising man. It is not so much his knowledge of law as his knowledge of men, and his ability to see things in the right light which contribute to his success. We have retained him several times in cases of special importance, and always found him trustworthy. He is bound to get on anyway, so we might as well help OLD SAMUEL'S DINNER PARTY 69 him on. I think if we all unite quietly in favoring his candidacy he will be nominated and he will make an ideal candidate." The others nodded their assent. " As we are all in such perfect accord," said Samuel Haverland, looking around the table after a moment's pause, " it seems to me only right that we should each contribute something to the campaign fund." " I'll be the first one to ante with twenty-five thousand dollars," said Cad well cheerfully. Silas Cotton's eyes began to blink rapidly. He hated extravagance of all kinds. " The sum is unnecessarily large, Mr. Cadwell. I don't think any of us will care to meet it," he said. " I'll let it stand. I never draw out. You each put in what you like," replied Thomas Cadwell. " Ten thousand apiece will be sufficient, but if Mr. Cadwell wishes to make his contribution twenty-five I see no objection," said old Haverland with his dry smile. " Now to be frank, gentlemen," said Cadwell, after a moment's pause, " and you know I always am a frank, straight-from-the-shoulder kind of fellow I want your support. As you all know, the seat of one of the sena tors from this state becomes vacant this year. There are a number of men out for the honor, but I think Thomas Cadwell will look just as well in the United States Senate as the next man, and I announce myself as a candidate," and Cadwell replaced his cigar. Samuel Haverland took up the word. " Mr. Cadwell is a public-spirited man; he stands well with his party, and is in every way fitted for the high position. I do not think our interests will suffer if he gets it." " Hear! hear! " cried Cotton. Craig knitted his brows thoughtfully. " The question 70 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY is, can he get it? To which party do you belong, Mr. Cadwell?" " I'm a Republican," replied Cadwell stoutly ; " I thought everybody knew that; and the Legislature will be safely Republican next session." " I'm not so sure," replied Craig. " I'll get it all right," nodded Cadwell emphatically ; " you leave that to me." Haverland spoke in his pacific tone. " Naturally we want the new senator to be a man friendly to our interests, and in that respect Mr. Cad well will be an admirable candidate. His political ambi tions are his personal affair, and he doubtless knows what he wants, and what he can get. Of course he has our moral support and our cordial wishes for success." " I won't oppose him," said Craig rather grudgingly. " I was only pointing out the possibility of failure." " I've taken all that into consideration," replied Cad well, somewhat relieved ; " you trust me for that." " Now," said Samuel Haverland, " that matter being settled, I suggest that the little contributions which we make this evening for the local and state campaigns be placed in Mr. Cadwell's hands. He is the president of our Traction Company and knows its needs ; he is closely affiliated with prominent politicians and knows their needs, and it seems to me that he is admirably fitted to take charge of the whole matter." William Craig rubbed his chin. " I rather like to follow the details of anything I go into. I will say frankly I do not care much for blind pools." Samuel Haverland replied very blandly : " I am a large stockholder in the Traction Company. I am a very large stockholder, yet I am perfectly willing to leave this business, which is of a somewhat delicate na- OLD SAMUEL'S DINNER PARTY 71 ture, entirely to Mr. Cadwell's discretion. The money is to go for legitimate expenses, of course, but I for one require no accounting." " All right," assented Craig in his quick way ; " and now that these matters are settled, if there is nothing further, I move that we adjourn, as I have another en gagement this evening. I will drop into the parlor and say good-night to the ladies in passing, Mr. Haver- land." " By all means," said Haverland, who, when business was disposed of, was always ready to retire. Thomas Cadwell laid down the stub of his cigar, arose with a flourish, and followed Craig from the room. Silas Cotton touched his old friend's arm. " As to that franchise, Sammy, how much will it cost ? " " We've got to have it, Silas, no matter what it costs," was the quick reply. Silas said good-night, and sighed, as if the burden of the increased cost of living weighed upon him heavily. Although the hour was not late, the guests were gone. Mildred betook herself cheerfully to her own boudoir and a recent novel; Mrs. Haverland was busy in the parlor rearranging some stereopticon views, and old Samuel, in his library, was thinking of turning out the light and going early to bed to make sure of his full share of sleep, when the front door-bell rang, and a mo ment later Richard entered the room. Two years had passed since their interview in that same room. During these two years the father and son had met but rarely. Each meeting had been the same, friendly but undemon strative. The son had been respectful, yet firm in the course which he had chosen, while if the father had shown no vexation it was because he never relinquished the idea of Richard's ultimate surrender; and if he had 72 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY shown no affection it was because the natural feelings of the heart could not break through the crust which had formed about it. Yet the heart underneath that crust did beat more rapidly as old Samuel heard the cheerful: " Good evening, father ! " " Good evening, Richard ! " The greeting was the same that the son had spoken, and he held out his hand, but there was no touch of warmth in his voice nor in his hand. " I have something to tell you, sir." It was perhaps to disguise the expectancy he felt that Samuel Haverland picked up a railroad report and ran his eye over the columns of figures. " I am going to be married," said Richard. " Ah ! " was his father's comment, as he laid down the pamphlet, but whether this exclamation expressed grati fication at the good showing of the report, or satisfaction on receiving the happy intelligence imparted by his son, was not apparent. " The date of the wedding is set for three weeks from Thursday." " Whom are you going to marry ? " " I told you two years ago that I loved Constance Hartley. I told you a year ago that we should be mar ried as soon as we were able to be. I have been doing very well of late." " I am very glad indeed to hear it. Have you seen that your prospective father-in-law has just gone into bankruptcy ? " A sharp light played in Richard's eyes. " That is the result of the cruel policy of your Com pany." " Not at all," replied Samuel Haverland. " He sim- OLD SAMUEL'S DINNER PARTY 73 ply insisted upon having his own way. I explained the situation to him carefully beforehand." " There are some matters which you and I cannot discuss," said Richard. " And this matter is disposed of," said his father. " It has ceased to be. Let us wipe it off the slate of our memories. Do you want to give your bride a million dollars as a wedding present? Come back and start afresh. I have watched your career during the last two years. You have ability; you have gained in experi ence." Old Samuel was almost cordial in his tone. It was Richard who now appeared the colder of the pair. " There would only be further disagreement between us." " Not necessarily," replied the father. " You have doubtless gained sense as well as experience. You know, Richard, the tail must not expect to wag the dog until it learns how. I'll teach you how, and then I will retire. I can't have anyone wag me." " I think that we shall have to remain as we are, sir," answered his son, smiling. " Very well," and old Samuel closed his lips. " Where is mother? Has she retired? " asked Richard gently. " She is in the parlor, I believe, rearranging some of those stereopticon views which I gathered during my trip through the Holy Land." " I want to see her. Good night, sir." " Good night, Richard," and old Samuel held out his hand as usual. Richard stepped across the hall to the parlor. Mrs. Haverland was bending over her work in the corner, and did not see her son when he first entered the room. 74 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY "Mother!" She turned quickly with a little cry of surprise. " Why, Richard, I did not know that you were in the house." Her face flushed with pleasure at sight of him, and he put his arms about her tenderly, saying playfully: " What are you up to here, all by yourself ? " " I was putting these pictures in their places. I had been showing them to some friends." She kept her arm through his as they walked to the sofa, and sat down. " Have you been in the house long ? It is strange I did not hear you come in." " Only a few minutes. I have been in the other room with father. I have come to tell you something of in terest. Constance and I are going to be married at last." His mother drew his head down to her shoulder. " Oh, my boy, I am so happy for you. I am so happy ! " When he looked in her face he saw tears in her eyes. " I knew it would come in good time," she said smil ing. " Are you quite prosperous ? " *' Wonderfully so," he answered gaily. During the next few moments she held his hand very tightly. " Richard," she began, " I have something to tell you." " What is it? " he asked, as she seemed to hesitate. " I want you to promise me to say ' Yes,' beforehand." " You want me to go into a * blind pool,' do you? " he laughed. " Well, I will, with you." " I have a little piece of property near the city. You know the little house and grounds which were my mar riage portion. I knew that you would marry Constance some day, and with that in view I have had the house OLD SAMUEL'S DINNER PARTY 75 gone over from top to bottom. It is now in beautiful order, and nicely furnished. I want to give it to Con stance for a wedding present. She will take it, won't she? You will take it, won't you, from me? " She was amply paid by the kiss which he gave her, and his quiet, " We will take it, and be two of the happiest mortals alive in it." " It makes me very happy to hear you say so. There are still some things to attend to in regard to the fur nishings. I did not expect this so soon. On what day are you to be married? " " Three weeks from Thursday." " I will have things hurried. Everything will be ready by that time." " What a surprise it will be for Constance," laughed Richard. " We had planned a flat." The mother and son sat with heads close together talking over the details, and the hour was late when Richard rose to go. " Do you know how much I thank you, mother? " he said, giving her a hug. She held him a little closer to her heart than ever at parting. " Remember, three weeks from Thursday, for the wedding," he whispered, " I don't think your father will object to my com ing," replied his mother. " You shall come," said Richard firmly. " Three weeks from Thursday," repeated his mother. " I still have the kitchenware to buy." " Good night, dear," said Richard, " and thank you again from Constance, and from me." CHAPTER X CADWELL, AND HIS MAN The next morning, Thomas Cadwell, with a man close at his elbow, brushed rapidly into his private office. His companion was a particularly well-dressed, well-groomed man, with close-cut black hair, and a short black mous tache. As the door swung behind them, the stylish young woman who acted as Cadwell's confidential secre tary, and in whose discreet bosom reposed some of his closest business secrets, took her cue to leave the room, for when Thomas Cadwell and his man Keating were together no one else was permitted to be present, and what took place between them neither man nor woman, of their own knowledge, could ever tell. Cadwell sat down, brought out some cigars, and when his own was fairly lighted and going began: " Now, Keating, let me have your report on our ' City Fathers.' " His agent put a paper in his hand. Cadwell looked it over carefully, while Keating watched his employer's face. He knew every line of that face, and every ex pression which came to it, for he had studied it many times, but it was his habit to study faces, and from force of habit he studied it again. Thomas Cadwell looked up to ask abruptly : " How many of these men will go back to the Board this fall? " " More than half, I think." Cadwell again referred to the paper. " Are all of 76 CADWELL AND HIS MAN 77 these old members still disposed to be friendly to us ? " Keating drew his chair closer to Cadwell's desk, and spoke in a low, pleasant voice. " Not all, Mr. Cadwell, not quite all. Some of them will get a little sore, you know. Some will break away, but most of them can be counted on." He took the paper and laid it on the slide of the desk before him. " See, I've marked those you can surely count on. Those marked with a cross you have lent money to; they will be anxious to further your interests. Those marked with a star owe their political life to you. They are safe." Cadwell smiled pleasantly. " I thank you, Keating. It looks very satisfactory indeed." Keating leaned back in his chair. His attitude was that of careless repose, except for his eyes, which were sharp and small and never at rest. " Now as to the new men to be elected this year ? " inquired Cadwell. Keating drew another list from his pocket. " I have made a memorandum of the amount which I think you ought to spend in each district," he said. " Do you think that we need to put so much into Ryder's district? " asked Cadwell, as he examined the paper. " I think we do," replied Keating without hesitation. " There is a big normal Republican majority in that district," commented Cadwell. " They did not nominate Ryder for his ability or his patriotism. They gave him the nomination because they knew he had a barrel behind him. Take away the barrel and he will land outside the breastworks." Although in his dealing with the world Keating could be as tortuous 78 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY as a serpent, he never hesitated to tell the truth to his employer. "I defer to your judgment, Keating; you certainly know your business." Mr. Keating acknowledged this tribute to his abilities by a nod. " What else do you know? " asked Cadwell, in his bluff, easy way. " There is a very interesting situation this year," Keating continued in his low voice. " The Democratic leader, Doc' Connor, is going to force his man Feather- stone for District Attorney; this against the protest of a lot of decent Democrats who are tired of Connor and his gang. Then there are a lot of independent Repub licans who would bolt our candidate if they could find the right man to vote for. The difficulty is for the dis satisfied elements to get together. All we have to do is to keep them apart." " We are for the Republicans this year, and we think that their candidate will be Joseph Butterworth," said Cadwell emphatically. " Yes, he is likely to be the candidate, but I wanted you to know the exact situation," replied Keating. " That's right," assented Cadwell. " I always want to know the exact situation. You understand how im portant it is for us to have a Prosecuting Attorney who will be safe. We have no use for any wild-eyed fanatic in that office, who will want to make a record for him self, and who won't be satisfied until he has turned hell upside down trying to do it. We want a man whose enthusiasm for reform is tempered by cool judgment. Butterworth is our man to the dot, but if he should fail to get the nomination, we must see that whoever does get it is of the right material." CADWELL AND HIS MAN 79 " Well, Mr. Cadwell, how about funds? " " We've got plenty of money." " Then we are all right." Cadwell, who had been making notes on the paper with a lead-pencil, looked up to say : " The total foots up pretty large, but I suppose they need the money, and if we are going to do business at all it is cheaper to do it with friends." " I never did stand much for economy," said Keating. " Understand me, I don't mean to limit you closely. I only want to get a pretty clear idea of how much it is going to cost," replied Cadwell. " I understand you perfectly, sir. To the best of my knowledge and belief I have given you the outside fig ures, but if I need any more I shall come and let you know at once." " That's quite right, Mr. Keating. You keep me well posted about the campaign as it progresses. It is our duty to see that things are run in an orderly, business like way." Keating nodded carelessly. " There is one thing more I want you to do. A very important thing," said Thomas Cadwell slowly. Joseph Keating was alert. " I want a list of all the members of the State Legis lature. I want to know all their occupations. I want an estimate of the present income of each individual. Also a few remarks as to the man's style of living would add to the value of your report." " Very good ; you shall have it." " And, Keating, if any of them have mortgages on their homes be sure that note is made of it." " I will." There was a pause. Thomas Cadwell looked into the 80 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY eye of his political purveyor. The look of cunning on the face of the master was reflected in that of the man. " There is more than one way of getting a thing, Keating." The agent smiled. " I have got to a position where I can afford luxuries," continued Cadwell suavely. " I've waited a long time, but I'm going to have this one, Joseph, no matter what it costs." Keating*s eyes shone appreciatively. " I'll do my best," he said. " I know you will," replied Thomas Cadwell. " I count on you, and you won't be the worse off for my success. Good morning." Joseph Keating took his silent departure. The faith ful secretary returned to her desk, and Cadwell threw himself energetically into the work of the day. CHAPTER XI EICHARD'S WEDDING When Richard Haverland started out to make his own way in the world he turned to the profession for which his father had had him carefully trained. " The lawyers are getting everything in sight," saga cious old Samuel had remarked. " I want you to make good use of your legal knowledge, not pleading cases for paltry fees, but in looking after your own. vast in terests." Richard Haverland was well equipped. What to many would have been a fortune had been expended upon his education, but nevertheless, if " the lawyers were getting everything in sight," he was soon forced to the conclu sion that his share had fallen beyond his range of vision. Often during the first months of his struggle it looked as though his father's presage might come true, and that he would have to abandon the law, and take to dig ging in a ditch for a livelihood. But there was the Haverland blood in him blood which would not admit defeat. So Richard hung on, and the days which saw the plans of the indefatigable father soaring to success, saw the son slaving fourteen hours out of the twenty- four, and very glad to get his paltry fees. As it often takes the uses of adversity to bring out a man's real character, so with Richard Haverland ; it was this hard, constant, bitter fight which brought out the 6 8] 82 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY underlying, granite-like qualities of his temper. He was not changed in that he was less generous or less kindly- hearted. These qualities were rather quickened than otherwise by his contact with the real world. If he laughed less, it was because he had less provocation and less time for mirth, but when he did laugh there was the same ring to his voice. If his face was sterner, it was because life was more serious now, and his mouth showed the Haverland tenacity and determination. He had also inherited the quick mental grasp of his father ; the ability to seize the salient point, to concentrate upon it, to form quick and accurate judgments of men. Therefore when thrown upon his own resources his development was very rapid. Thus two years passed in daily grind and toil, petty disappointments and minor triumphs, then Richard Hav erland began to prosper. During this period he came in closer touch with the real world than in all the previous years of his life. In the world where old Samuel held his dominating sway the name of Haverland became more and more synonymous with power and acquisition. In his different world Richard was beginning to be also known as a man to be reckoned with. The success which began to smile upon him was too modest to be spelled with a capi tal S, and in gilt letters. Still it was a success worth winning, and it brought him nearer to his marriage with Constance Hartley. When the day approached, Richard was so busy having no one to assist him in his office but a small stenographer that all thought of a wedding j ourney had to be put away for the present. On his wedding-morning, while he was in his apart ment, carefully dressed in his best raiment, there came a RICHARD'S WEDDING 83 loud knock at the door, followed by an exceedingly large man with broad shoulders, who, too, was very carefully dressed, and who, as Best Man, looked ready to fulfil his function to the letter. The Best Man was imbued with the idea that the groom, although the day before in full possession of all his faculties, upon this morning had become incapable of caring for himself. The Best Man carried him away almost bodily to a little village some thirty miles from town, to a small, brown church with an ivy-vine climbing to the roof, and a bell hung in a latticed box no bigger than a bee-hive. Here they were welcomed by a grave-looking sexton with a limp, white tie, who immediately led them into the vestry. The Best Man stood at the door where he could see the small audi torium of the church, and at a given signal piloted his charge toward the altar, timing their pace to reach the altar before the bride, who was coming slowly up the aisle on the arm of a white-haired gentleman whose broad, ruddy face still retained the quality of youth. Behind them came a handsome matron upon the arm of a youth who was on the qui vive of expectancy, not so much because of his interest in the bride, his sister, nor in the bridegroom, nor yet in the wedding, but in the Best Man, who had been one of the most famous centre rushes in the history of football. Yet the bride was not to be ignored by any one who had an eye for beauty. The ceremony was over all too soon to suit the village children, who had stolen into the rear of the church like little shadows, where their heads kept bobbing up and down behind the high backs of the pews, much to the annoyance of the grave sexton and the amusement of the Best Man. As the party came down the aisle the whole tribe of 84 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY boys and girls scurried before it, to the road, where they fluttered about like birds of happy omen. As they stood on the church porch, an automobile appeared over the crest of a hill, and came down rapidly towards them. In the car were a man and a woman. The man was dark, with lines of high living worn into his heavy face, which was flushed with recent indulgence. The woman was blonde and graceful. " Oh ! " she exclaimed. " See, there is a wedding ! What a pretty sight. Won't you go by slowly, I want to see the bride." Charles Cadwell shook his head. " None for me. I can't pass it quick enough." And the automobile went by so rapidly that Cherida Delafield only caught a faint glimpse of the bride. But as she whirled by in a cloud of dust she did see the groom, and under her veil her eyes changed color. As soon as the dust had settled, the Best Man, who had now dwindled to proper insignificance, ran out to sum mon the carriage, and Richard and his bride drove away to a pleasant cottage with a bay-window and a wide verandah. " Here we are ! " he exclaimed, helping Constance to alight. " It is not a large mansion, but it is our home." " It is a beautiful home, and oh ! how charmingly furnished ! " cried Constance, as Richard led her through one room after another. " Why, there's my piano, and my writing desk, and oh, what a beautiful rug on the parlor floor and the roses on the table She stood quite still for a moment looking into his face. " You told me that the house was to be a surprise, and it is. I never dreamed of anything like this. It is so exquisitely furnished, so complete in every detail. It is RICHARD'S WEDDING 85 more beautiful than a palace. I thought we were poor, but this is far too elegant for poverty." " We are not rich, but this is a wedding present. There is a little history connected with it, which you shall hear at supper." In the dining-room the table was laid for two. On the sideboard was a bunch of wild roses, and about the room were other reminders of the fields and woods. The white damask cloth was fringed with ferns, and a rose lay at Constance's plate. They sat down and waited upon each other. It was a simple meal; no servant passed in and out, and what they ate is not recorded. " Now tell me your secret," said Constance, leaning forward with much interest. " The cottage is not new," began Richard ; " it was built more than fifty years ago." " Why, Richard ! " she exclaimed. " A verandah has been added, and a bay-window and a good deal of fresh paint," he went on. " Did you buy it, and have all this done ? " she asked mystified. " My mother once lived here," he replied, speaking quietly. Constance was struck with the soft look in his eyes. " Here she lived as a young girl. Here she grew up. My father first saw her here, and paid his first court to her more than thirty years ago. She has always kept the house, and she insisted on refurnishing everything for our wedding-present, and now it belongs to you." Constance came to his side of the table, and he put his arm about her. " It is all I have, and it is yours," he repeated. " I want for nothing more in the world, only you, and your love forever," she said. 86 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Thus they sat while the shadows of early evening fell, and the room grew darker. They arose and went out of the front door, standing for a moment in silence on the porch in the full beauty of the evening. Then they left the house and walked slowly down the garden-path to the gate, where they stood just as Samuel Haverland had stood with his sweetheart many years before. The wind swayed the trees caressingly. One by one the stars came out, and night descended. The lovers turned and walked into the house which was their home. CHAPTER XII SICHARD ACCEPTS A NOMINATION Richard Haverland was able to afford the time for no longer wedding journey than the daily trip from coun try to town, and back again at night to his home, where Constance always met him at the foot of the little gar den. Yet they were perfectly happy in postponing the customary excursion in this country, or the peregrina tion in Europe until the days should be less full and the purse more so. Their home was an attractive place, charmingly fur nished from kitchen to drawing-room. There was a big Irish maid who took up a good deal of room in the kitchen. She was a handsome, hearty, buxom woman of thirty and more, with a rich brogue and a laugh as good- natured as the day was long. She immediately fell in love with the place, and with the master and mistress, too, as well she might, and she took Constance into her confidence at the start. " An' shure, Misses Haviland, it's glad oi am to be wid yez, an' thot dear man, yur husban'. An' doan't oi know a true gintleman whin oi see him? Shure an' it's like Hiven fur Nora Flynn to be here." And it was a Heaven-sent gift to the newly married pair to have found Nora Flynn, for she was a capital cook and as honest and as true-hearted as she was good- tempered. It may be well to set down here the fact that after 87 88 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY many years of service Miss Flynn's testimonial as to the worth of her employers was as strong as upon these first days. A few days after the wedding, Richard Haverland was at his desk in the ten by twelve office. From the outer room came the click of a typewriter under the supple fingers of a small young woman, who seemed never to stop a moment in her work, but who still found opportunity to steal occasional glances through the half- open door. It may have been because she fitted so well into the small office that little Miss Veronica Hunnewell had been chosen out of a score of other and some fairer young women, who had appeared in answer to an advertisement for a competent stenographer. Miss Hunnewell was short in stature, with an inclination to be plump. She had a broad face with large eyes, and a quantity of hair which she arranged according to the latest style, fre quently with startling effect. In this small body were stored inexhaustible energy and good-will, and she very soon made herself indispensable in the multiple capacity of amanuensis, chief clerk, cashier and office boy. This methodical young person kept her employer's letters and papers in such beautiful order as should have touched his heart. She brushed off his desk every morning, put ting it in apple-pie order for the day's work. In her own desk, hidden away, were a copy of " Lucile," Ten nyson's " Princess," and a volume entitled " The Love Letters of a Fashionable Lady," and with these she re galed herself during the luncheon hour. This faithful clerk now interrupted the young lawyer to announce two callers, giving secret voice to a prayer that they might prove to be two clients. " My name is Horner, Colonel Jacob Horner," Miss RICHARD ACCEPTS A NOMINATION 89 Hunnewell heard one of them say in a loud voice as the door closed, leaving her to her typewriter, and to head off any possible intrusion The two men were so diametrically opposite that Rich ard's face must have betrayed his surprise as he asked them to be seated. Colonel Horner was a large man. He had a fat hand, rather soft and yielding to the touch, and a loud voice, sometimes aggressive in its tone, some times familiar. He was about fifty, slightly bald, well- dressed, and ostentatiously polite. " Let me introduce my friend, Mr. Frank Thayer," said Horner. " Mr. Thayer is secretary of the Citizens' Independent League; he is the member of the Board of Aldermen whose election created so much interest a year ago. You know him, of course; everybody in town knows Frank Thayer to-day." Francis Thayer was slender almost to frailness. His figure was aristocratic ; his face had the sensibility of the poet. He stepped forward, saying with a voice the charm of which at once struck his hearer : " I think the colonel exaggerates the notoriety my election gave me. I am very happy to know you, Mr. Haverland." The hand he gave to Richard was white and slender, but the clasp was astonishingly hard and firm. " Colonel Horner and I have called to see you in re gard to the political situation," continued Thayer. " Perhaps, Horner, as you have all the details of the situation at your command, you had better put them before Mr. Haverland." " It's about the District Attorneyship," began Hor ner, always ready to talk without urging. " The Repub licans are going to run Butterworth. You know Butter- 90 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY worth, of course. He always wears a smile and looks as if his face had just been lubricated." Richard nodded. " Well, Butterworth is hand-in-glove with Cadwell, the new Republican boss, that political upstart who has not had any training in the field he seeks to invade, but who has blundered in with a dash and a barrel. We want to beat his man a man whom he owns, sir, body and soul. First we tried to get the Democratic leader to nominate a man acceptable to the C. I. L., but old Doc' Connor gave us the laugh, and said he would not make any deals with a milk-and-water crowd, and he put up that disreputable Featherstone. I say disrepu table advisedly, for cloaked with seeming respectability, Featherstone is as servile to the man who made him as a puppy. Now, sir, what sort of justice can the citizens of this town expect with a Prosecuting Attorney from either of these sources. Cadwell sits among his money bags, puffs his cigar, and puts up Butterworth with a wink. Doc' Connor sits down in his saloon, puffing his cigar, and puts up Featherstone, with a wink." Richard admitted that the chances for untrammeled justice under these circumstances were small, and, looking at the pile of unfinished work on his desk, devoutly wished the virtuously indignant colonel would take some other occasion to enlighten him on the situation. " We are going to show them," said the colonel em phatically, " that the milk-and-water crowd is not to be ignored; we are going to put a little whiskey in our water this year, and stir things up, sir. Things gener ally do get stirred up when I come into them." Horner leaned forward confidentially. " I happen to know that a lot of the Republicans are disgusted with the machine, and will vote for any good man. Then, many of the RICHARD ACCEPTS A NOMINATION 01 decent Democrats really, Mr. Haverland, there are a large number of decent Democrats in this city, men with whom you would be quite willing to shake hands they are tired of nominations dictated by Doc' Connor. See the situation ? " " I should say that the Independent Citizens might do well to nominate a respectable citizen," suggested Rich ard. " Exactly. The trouble is to find him," replied Hor- ner. " You surprise me," said Richard. " I mean, it is hard to find the right man, when it comes to asking him to give up his time, and neglect his paying business to do work with a slim chance of getting elected," replied Horner. " Then if he should be elected and remains true to his political ideals the chances are he'll never get another nomination," added Thayer. " Every man ought to be willing to serve when he is called," said Richard Haverland warmly. " I have little patience with those self-satisfied, sleek citizens, who sit on their soft seats, suffer from misgovernment, complain about it, and never lift their fingers to remedy the evil. I have more respect for the class of men you are fight- ing." " So have I," said Horner ; " and Thayer and I have been appointed a committee to come and ask you to take the nomination of the Independent Citizens for District Attorney." " You are not serious, gentlemen ? " cried Richard. " Of course we are serious. Weren't you ? " " But I can't accept this nomination. I have just begun to build up a practice. I can't leave my work." Horner looked around the small office, drummed his 93 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY finger on the arm of his chair, and said quietly : " It is the duty of every man to serve when he is called." " But why call me ? I'm not known. I never ran for office in my life." " That is just why we want you. You'll run all the better. You are quite well enough known. You'll be a great candidate. You will get all the Republican bolt ers. Then you've done a few little things which have put the rumor in circulation that you are a friend of the working classes. That will get votes from another quarter, and their votes are just as good as anybody's." There was a tone in the colonel's voice which jarred upon Richard Haverland. " I regret that I cannot accept the honor which you would thrust upon me," he replied a little coldly. " At present personal matters of great importance claim my attention." A shade of disappointment swept over Thayer's face. " So you, too, are willing to sit on a soft seat, suffer from misgovernment, and do nothing," he said. " I will join with you and help you find a candidate," replied Richard quickly. " No," said Homer, " you're the one we want, and you ought to run. You have put yourself on record with some fine-sounding sentiments. Now, if you don't make good we will be justified in taking them for hot air." " Why don't you run, yourself? " asked Richard. " Because I'm Jacob Homer. I was the Republican leader until the Cadwell-Butterworth crowd turned me down. Then I came over to the Independents. I'm a practical politician, but I've explained my position to the Independents and they have accepted me and my assistance for what it is worth, and I think it will beat Butterworth." RICHARD ACCEPTS A NOMINATION 93 " Frankly, gentlemen," said Richard, " is not the ob ject you wish to attain the election of a Democrat? " " That may be the result, but it is not the object," replied Thayer. " Our object is to compel the nomina tion of the right sort of men. We can, of course, teach the lesson to but one party at a time. You are the right man, and it is your duty to accept." " You won't be called upon to contribute any funds," put in Homer. Thayer spoke again in his persuasive way. " You are really with us in spirit, Mr. Haverland. I hate to give up the idea that you will join us. Excuse me for saying it, but it seems to me that any man who is really with us in spirit, and who refuses to join us when called upon, is a coward, and I know you are not that." Richard flushed. " You don't know how much my time means to me just now ; you don't know what a sac rifice you are asking." " I do know," replied Thayer quietly ; " but you do not know how important it is to lead this movement, forlorn hope though it may prove to be, or you would make the sacrifice." Although Francis Thayor had not been in the room an hour, Richard Haverland felt sure of his sincerity and earnestness. Influenced by the spell of his personality, he exclaimed suddenly : " Well, I'll do it ! " " Good ! " cried Horner, rising and slapping him on the shoulder. " Great Scott, what a muscle ! I like to feel an arm like that, it indicates a hustler. You'll make an ideal candidate. We'll elect you, Mr. Haverland." " Not much danger of that," commented Richard with a slight laugh. " Luckily I have no political ambition." " Nonsense ! Before the campaign is over you will 94 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY be shouting yourself hoarse from the platform, and by election day you will be dying to win." " There will be a meeting of the Executive Committee at my house to-morrow night," said Thayer. " We shall expect to see you, and you will work hard for the ticket." " I will do what I can," replied Richard. " We'll all work hard," exclaimed Horner. " I'm a practical politician, sir, and we've got to fight fire with fire. I've gone in with the Independents because I like decency, and I could not get it with the other fellows, any more. I like an up-hill fight. It's play for me. I take these campaigns as food and recreation." As the two men walked out of the door, Richard fol lowed them with a wondering look. " Surely politics makes strange bed-fellows," he thought. " Miss Hunnewell, we shall have to work harder than ever," he said, turning to his stenographer with a quizzi cal smile. " I've gone into politics." " Oh, Mr. Haverland, I know you will be elected ! I will gladly work twice as hard if I can only help you. I can't do very much, but I know that you can't fail," she exclaimed with an enthusiastic clasping of the hands. Richard gave the young woman a quick look of sur prise. " There is about as much chance of my being elected as being hit by an avalanche. Do you suppose if there was any chance of it, Horner would have come to me? It was that man Thayer who got me into this." Miss Hunnewell was silent, but unconvinced. In her heart of hearts she did not see how any one could fail to vote for Richard Haverland. CHAPTER XIII THE HARMONY MEETING Doc' Connor had not obtained his degree at any emi nent school of medicine. He had originally been called " Dock " because of a lucrative connection he had had with the city's property along the water front. With the course of time this had been turned into "Z?oc'," possibly because of the prescriptions for which his saloon, the Rushmore, was famous. The self-anointed ruler of Democracy sat in a private room above his saloon. There had been a day when he would have occupied a plain wooden chair near the front window, close to the bar, sunning himself in the gaze of his admiring constituency, but he had been quick to learn that where a district leader gains, a party boss loses by making himself too approachable; and as he rose in fortunes he became more retired in habit, and was more frequently in the handsome, heavily furnished apartment where only the elect penetrated. Doc' Connor had begun life as a boy in the room downstairs. By industry he had risen to be waiter, bar keeper, cashier, and finally, after many years of hard work, sole proprietor. His political fortunes had kept pace with his business success. With a pair of hard fists, and a rough and ready intellect, he had made him self a power, and had held almost every office not in the service of the city, but in the party government, from captain of an election district to party boss. Boss 95 96 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Connor gave good measure over his bar, just as he gave good measure to those who served him faithfully. He had stood before his fellow-man so long as a dispenser of political patronage and drinks, that he felt he had the same right to their suffrages as to their dimes. Downstairs the Rushmore was doing a smashing busi ness. Half-a-dozen clean-jacketed, white-aproned bar tenders were so busy mixing drinks, and passing foaming schooners of beer over the bar, that it seemed as if nature had providently given them a dozen hands apiece. Up stairs, Connor's faithful lieutenants came and went soft- footed over the carpet, or stood about in groups, smok ing and talking earnestly, their faces wearing looks of importance; the assurance of coming victory in every attitude. Doc' Connor, sitting squarely in his chair, a cigar stuck in the corner of his square mouth, listened to their reports, and gave his orders like a Field Mar shal. When left to himself for a few minutes he would continue sitting as stolidly as the Sphinx, his eyes fixed on a gaudily-painted banner which swung across the street, revealing, as it undulated in the breeze, the por traits of the candidates of Democracy. Underneath this line of equivocal beauty was the stirring appeal: LET US MAKE THIS FIGHT FOR LIBERTY AS OUR ANCESTORS FOUGHT FOR FREEDOM IN THE REVOLUTION. Through accident of birth, merely, Mr. Connor's an cestors had not been present during that period of the nation's history, but as they had always been ready to fight for liberty, or anything else under the sun, in any clime, this sentiment was one which appealed strongly to their sturdy descendant and his followers. THE HARMONY MEETING 97 It was the last fighting day of the campaign, and the big Democratic chief was in an amiable frame of mind. He expressed his gratification tersely by the words: " I've got that office cinched." That is, the office of Prosecuting Attorney of the commonwealth, for which, in the exercise of his prerogative, he had nominated one Edward Featherstone, a lawyer of mediocre ability and convivial habits, whose instalment in office would be hailed with delight by every law-breaker within the scope of his jurisdiction. While Doc' Connor was in his pleasantest mood, Ed. Featherstone himself hurried into the room. " Butterworth's dead ! " he cried excitedly. " The devil ! " remarked Connor. " Found dead in front of his house. What do you think of that? " " Foul play ? " asked Connor. " The coroner says it was angina-pectoris." " Ann who? " asked Connor with interest. " Did she shoot him ? " " No ; I said angina-pectoris heart disease." " Well, it amounts to the same thing. He's dead. We can't help it, and we ain't a-goin' to worry about it, not much." " It will narrow the fight down to the Independent candidate and myself," said Featherstone thoughtfully. " Narrow nothin'," replied Connor with disgust. " That young man ain't got no more chance of being elected than I have of being President, and I was born in Ireland." " The election is Tuesday. The ballots are all printed. The Republicans are demoralized. I hear a rumor that many of the rank and file are going to vote for the Inde pendent just to beat me," said Featherstone rapidly. 98 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " Say, don't you worry, Eddie Featherstone ; the most of 'em will go and play golf." Featherstone shook his head. " Jake Homer is sore because the Cadwell crowd turned him down. He is going around with a smile a yard wide. Says he's not wearing mourning for Butter- worth, but that he is busy working to elect the Inde pendent candidate. Providence is with him this time, he says." " Then it's the first time Providence and Jake Homer ever got into partnership," said Connor, " and Provi dence had better watch Jake pretty close, for he is so fond of double-dealing that he even plays solitaire with two packs of cards." " He's a slick one and no mistake," said Featherstone, " and lie's hard to beat." " Hard to beat ! We've got to beat him ! " cried Con nor. " But you'll never do it, standin' about here on one leg like a rooster in a rain-storm. Featherstone, you just flutter out of here now, and hustle for the Butter- worth vote." Connor's candidate for District Attorney, with his energies somewhat revived by the tonic of his chief's words, hurried away to hustle for the votes. Connor turned to his lieutenants who had gathered around to hear the news. " Sullivan, McCarty, you hear what's happened. It's up to you now. You go and see all the Republican leaders. Don't stop at the big men, get right next to the district captains. Tell them there'll be the deuce to pay if any but a regular organization man gets the of fice. Tell them that Featherstone is Butterworth's logi cal successor for their votes. Tell 'em to steer as many votes as they can to us, and we'll see that they are treated THE HARMONY MEETING 99 right. Hard to beat ! It's so easy it seems cruel to do it. Featherstone makes me tired. I'll show 'em who's hard to beat. Now you fellows get out and work. You work night and day. Don't you come standin' around here, wearing out the carpet until after the votes is in. We'll win in a walk, only don't you try to do the walk- in'. You keep on the run until after next Tuesday." Each man in the room knew what was expected of him, and each took up the work with alacrity. There had been a vigor and picturesqueness about the campaign of the Independent candidate which had ap pealed to Connor, but the sudden shifting of the scene disturbed him in spite of his outward optimism. He had generally been able to foretell with astonishing accuracy the number of votes the regular candidate would poll, and to go to bed on election eve with a comfortable knowledge of what to expect, but now an element of uncertainty had thrust itself into his calculations. " I don't like it," he muttered, bringing his heavy fist down on the edge of the chair. " I don't like it, not for a cent." " What is the matter with it? " asked someone who had come up from the saloon, passed the man at the door, and was now standing quietly at Connor's side. Mr. Connor looked up quickly, took his cigar from his mouth and exclaimed : " Hello ! Joe Keating." The adaptable Mr. Keating dropped easily into a chair. "What don't you like about the banner, Doc?" he inquired. " The banner is all right," answered Connor. " What'll you have to drink ? " Reaching out his arm he pressed an electric button. 100 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Keating, always able to make himself at home, drew out a silver cigarette-case. " Bring us a bottle," commanded Connor as the waiter appeared. Keating put out a restraining hand. " No wine for me at this hour, Mr. Connor. I'll take a dry Martini." " Then make mine rye, and hurry them orders," com manded the proprietor. Keating rolled a cigarette between his palms, lit it with a wax taper, and began to blow a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. Connor watched Lim for a time in silence, coughed onco or twice, and then burst out : " Say, Keating, throw that dinky paper thing away and have a real cigar on me." Keating smiled, tossed the cigarette away, but declined the proffered Havana. " I'd like to say a few words to you in private," he said. Connor got up, and led the way to a small adjoining room. Here they were soon followed by the waiter with the drinks. Keating sipped his cocktail in meditation. " What is the matter, Doc' ? " he inquired again. Connor tossed off his whiskey, and put his glass down with a thump. " Nothing's the matter." " Say, Doc' Connor, are you going to lose this elec tion ? " asked Keating, looking at him sharply. " No, I'm going to win it." " Young Haverland is making a wonderful cam paign," remarked Keating coolly, taking another cigar ette from his case. THE HARMONY MEETING 101 " Is the old man behind the young one ? " asked Con nor suddenly. Keating shook his head. " Sure not? " and the boss leaned over the table. " I'll give you my word he is not." Although Mr. Keating himself was frequently en gaged in questionable undertakings, whenever he pledged his word it was never questioned. Doc' Connor was satisfied. A smile played in the cor ners of his eyes as he said : " Don't you bet on the young one, then." " I won't," said Keating. " I'm going to win this time," said Connor. " I think you will," said Keating, as he passed a large roll of bills across the table. Connor did not seem to see it. " I thought you were for the Republican," was the only comment he made. " He's dead," said Keating. " I know that." Well, this is our contribution to your campaign fund." " You are a bit late," remarked Connor. " Oh, I don't know," replied Keating coolly ; " you haven't made the distribution to the district leaders yet. When you count that roll you will say that we are just in time." With a show of indifference Connor removed the rub ber band and ran his fingers over the crisp notes. " You're not so bad," he said with a quiet laugh, pock eting the money. Keating rose to go. Connor looked at him fixedly. 44 1 was looking for you to back young Haverland, now Butterworth's out of the running." 102 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " It is this way, Doc' Connor," said Keating frankly ; " with Featherstone we know just what to expect. We know we'll have to pay, and we know whom we'll have to pay, and we know you'll be square with us. With the other one it is different. He may be a branch of a family we know, but he is a contrary limb and there's no bending him. We're taking no risks." At times Keating, abandoned double-dealer that he was, talked straight out. Connor understood him. " I'll be square," he said quietly. " Good day. In future, if I have any business to transact, I'll come to you," said Keating. Connor, with his hands in his pockets, strolled out to the main room with his departing guest, saying : " I want you to meet Doyle." " It used to be McGarry," remarked Keating. " We're sending him to Congress," replied Connor. " Doyle's to be trusted. What he says I'll stand for." And with a nod of his head he summoned his lieutenant to his side. " Doyle, this is Mr. Keating. I want you to know him well." The two men shook hands understandingly, and walked downstairs together towards the bar. "Well, Billy, what's doing?" asked Connor, ap proaching a group of his friends by the window. " There's going to be a mass meeting of Independent Citizens to-night at Harmony Hall." Connor swore. " Well, of all the nerve," he added. " Admission is by ticket only. I got two hundred of 'em from the Independent manager; told him I was an Independent Cit. and wanted these for my intimate friends. I've given them out, and they'll be all used," said William Finn, ingenuously. THE HARMONY MEETING 103 " Tell them to get there early and get the best seats," said Connor. That evening Mr. Connor's diamond shirt-studs helped to illuminate the entrance to the Rushmore, while this amiable monarch permitted the light of his own counte nance, in the absence of the sun, to shine upon his fellow- man. He had feared that there was a large campaign fund behind Richard Haverland, but Keating's assurance and fat contribution had relieved his mind. The im pending meeting at Harmony Hall tickled his sense of humor. " Harmony h ! " he muttered, and smiled knowingly at the broad banner which in the name of Democracy swelled in the evening breeze. The candi dates whose patriotism and devotion to principle and to office were there extolled in glowing colors, were all his men, and he felt at peace with the world. A large automobile turned the corner and made its way slowly through the crowded street. Connor bristled like a shepherd-dog whose fold is threatened by a wolf. His jaw set itself sternly, and his eyes glittered as he looked at the three audacious men in the car. The atten tion of the three was immediately fastened upon him. This was natural and not in the least disconcerting; he had long since become used to his own celebrity, and returned their gaze, while he took in every detail of the candidate. Connor took pride in the fact that he was a fair- minded man. When he had looked the candidate over carefully he turned to Billy Finn. " He's all there. He's a thoroughbred. I don't care what ticket he's on ; I'd say it if it was the Prohibition." " Terry Dunbar knows him," said Finn ; " he taught him how to hold up his dukes, and he says he's a good one." 104 " He is all right," repeated Connor, " and now we'll teach him something about politics, and his education will be gettin' along fine." Connor did not see Thayer, slender, refined Thayer, with his unassuming manner. For Horner, he had noth ing but contempt. Horner had been " regular," and when he had lost the leadership, had turned his coat and gone over to the enemy. Connor had known him well as the Republican boss and had even been associated with him in transactions for their mutual good; but now his lip curled with unaffected scorn, and he looked away when the colonel bowed. He had no use for Horner. " There you go buttin' in where you don't belong. We'll give you a warm reception. There'll be a hot time in the old hall to-night," muttered Connor. " There is the great and only Connor," remarked the colonel airily, " whom you, Mr. Haverland, have got to beat next Tuesday." "What about Featherstone ? " asked Haverland. " Oh, he does not count. Featherstone is such a light-weight that Connor carries him around in his pocket and doesn't feel it. You strike at Connor every time." In front of the hall a band was alternately playing patriotic and popular airs, to an audience of small boys, who made the party welcome with yells and cat-calls which pierced the din of the music. Horner's spirits rose higher as he entered the audi torium and could not see a vacant seat. " I planned a stupendous meeting, and we've got it. Connor may think he is strong with the people, but we are going to touch them to-night," he said, taking his seat at the back of the platform after introducing the first speaker, Francis Thayer. THE HARMONY MEETING 105 The applause which greeted the first speaker was boisterously loud, and was carried to suspicious length, but Horner was too pleased with his seeming success to notice that. " We've got them from the start," he whis pered to Richard Haverland. Delicate features and graceful bearing marked Thay- er as the refined gentleman; he made no attempt to conceal it in order to coin popularity, and he now stepped forward, as carefully dressed and with as pol ished a manner as if he were to speak to the most cul tured audience in the city. The applause was not all fictitious. Frank Thayer was not unknown, and was liked by many for the very reason that his coat was of fine material, and that, although he was an aristocrat in appearance, he was a democrat in spirit. Indeed, his election to the Board of Aldermen had been due to the votes of men of humble station and plain garb, who had an intuitive feeling that this was a man whom they could trust. So the two factions in the hall vied with each other to give Thayer a welcome which sent the dust roll ing to the ceiling. As soon as the tumult had subsided, he began in musi cal, well-measured tones. " It is a pleasure, as well as an honor, to be called upon to address so large and representative an audience from this district. I " As if a tornado had burst there arose from the centre of the hall a loud shout of derision. For an instant Thayer was taken off his guard and stopped short. There was a silence broken by murmurs of surprise and indignation. Thayer resumed. " I do not need to tell you, the intelligent voters who have followed every detail of the 106 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY exciting and important campaign which is now drawing to a close " Again the yell arose, louder than before, drowning the speaker and penetrating to the street, to be re-echoed by shrill-throated small boys. Colonel Horner sprang to his feet in a white heat of anger. " This is an outrage. Where are the police who should be on duty in this hall ? " Thayer showed no sign of annoyance, and waited pa tiently for the disturbance to cease. " Cut that ! Tell us what you're here for, anyway ! You're a dude ! Come off that platform ! Say, give us the candidate ; we are all ready for him ! " An egg struck Thayer on the cheek. Amid shouts of derision, he wiped it with his handkerchief. " If that was done purposely, it was a good shot ; if it was an acci dent, it was extremely careless," was his only comment. Under cover of the laugh that followed, Thayer re sumed : " The campaign drawing to a close, accom panied by little incidents of ! " The candidate ! The candidate ! " was the repeated cry. " We have something for him." The " Independent Citizens " furnished by Billy Finn had at first taken the meeting by surprise, but now the other part of the audience began to take a hand and to express their disapproval of the interruptions. Thayer could not be heard over the front row. Two men began to clamber to the platform with the evident purpose of dragging the orator from the stage. In an instant Richard Haverland came forward and pushed the intru ders back to the aisle below. " I am the candidate," he declared, " and I will speak when Mr. Thayer has fin ished. Are there no policemen in this hall? " By this time the uproar swallowed all other sounds. THE HARMONY MEETING 107 Several police officers hurried down the aisles to restore order. Richard felt something brush against his hand. He looked down, and to his great surprise saw Miss Hunnewell. " What is it? " he asked. " A megaphone ; my little brother brought it from the gallery. I was up there, too." He put it to his mouth. " There are hundreds in this hall who wish to hear us. We intend that they shall hear us. We are not to be intimidated " There was a burst of honest applause. " Go on with the meeting," cried some. " Hurrah for Thayer ; let him talk! Throw out the Connor gang! Hurrah for Haverland!" " We come here to-night, law-abiding citizens, to pre sent our side of a political argument. We propose to do this peacefully. Sergeant, why don't your men use their sticks a little? Why do you allow that man to stand shouting in the aisle? Now, Thayer, will you proceed? Here, take this megaphone." Thayer took the megaphone and stepped forward for the third time. " Low ball ! " cried a man, throwing a potato at him. It passed harmlessly by. " Striker's out ! " yelled an other. " This picturesque and exciting campaign which is drawing so vivaciously to a close " said Thayer, taking up the thread of his opening. The entire front row rose as one man and made a rush for the platform. Two policemen made valiant efforts to turn them back, but were as ineffectual as if they were breasting a swollen river. Richard Haverland sprang to Thayer's side. The crowd pressed so close about them that few blows were 108 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY struck on either side. By the mere weight of numbers the two men were borne to the floor. " Foul ! " cried a man, springing lightly to the plat form and beginning to push his way quickly through the crowd. He was a square-shouldered man and had an effective way of brushing others aside. In a moment he was in the centre of the group, and Richard Haverland was on his feet. Thayer was also helped up; he was somewhat out of breath, having been underneath. " Thank you, Terry Dunbar," said Richard. Terry merely nodded. " Now, you fellers ! " he called out, " we'll take a hand in this ; give these gentlemen room ! " Those who had planned the attack stood irresolute for a moment. " We're in this," cried Terry cheerfully, striking out right and left. " Now you fellers just waltz off the stage." Besides being well known and respected in his profes sion, Mr. Dunbar had a convincing way of enforcing an argument, and the platform was cleared. In the centre of the hall some of Connor's friends, compact and organized, were in a hand-to-hand fight with the unorganized adherents of the meeting. Colonel Hor- ner, who had been missing for some time, now entered through the main doorway accompanied by a force of policemen. At the first outbreak he had hurried a call for the reserves. Richard Haverland, wiping the dust from his coat, still stood by Thayer. " Speak to them, Thayer," he exclaimed. " They are going out. Hold the meeting together a little longer. The reserves are here, and this little row will soon be over." " There'll be no meeting in this hall to-night," said a burly sergeant with a swing of his club. THE HARMONY MEETING 109 "Why not? Can't your men keep order?" cried Richard quickly. " Sure, and we can do that," replied the officer, point ing with his long night-stick to the crowd which was being hustled from the building by the policemen. " Sure, we can do that, once we get the hall cleared out." " Nonsense ! Let those remain who wish to listen to the speeches. You can keep order now. If not, Mr. Dunbar can. Thank you again, Terry, for your back ing," and he held out his hand. " Youse reformers have done enough, and now ye'd better git out of this," said the sergeant. " I guess we will have to, now that you have got rid of all our audience," said Richard. Then, as Horner came up, he burst into a laugh. '* You managed to have a stupendous meeting, Colonel Horner. They did not seem to want to hear us speak, but I bet they would have stayed to see Terry box." Horner was rubbing his hands. " It was a success. I noticed the Connor gang getting the worst of it in the fight all over the hall. We have not lost any votes to night." " Colonel Horner, shake hands with my friend, Mr. Dunbar," said Richard. " Glad to meet yer," said Terry, in a friendly man ner. " I've heard your name mentioned. I guess y' know me, too ; I'm pretty well known about here." Colonel Horner smiled affably, and put his flabby palm in Terry's hard hand. " I guess we put some ov der voters on the blink, all right," said Terry, cheerfully. " They won't see where to make the cross on th' ballots." Colonel Horner smiled again. " Come, Haverland," he said quickly, " they are turning off the lights. We 110 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY must be off. We have two more meetings to-night, and we are half an hour behind our schedule." " Thayer," laughed the candidate, " have you room in your automobile for my friend Terry Dunbar? The colonel has slated us for two more meetings." The party rolled off in Thayer's car, while over at the Rushmore Doc' Connor was being entertained by a hu morous account of the meeting in Harmony Hall. " We broke up the meeting, Doc', all right. The Goo-Goos didn't have a word to say for 'emselves," said Finn, the humorous raconteur. " Where did you get that black eye ? " asked his chief. " The candidate handed it to me on the platform," replied Finn sadly. CHAPTER XIV THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY On election night, when the shouting was all over, and the votes were all in, the Democratic leader sat in his big leather chair casting his political horoscope. Around him had gathered the clans, all prepared to celebrate the victory. Everything was free at the Rush- more that night, there was no excuse for any of the faithful going to bed sober, and every one of the hench men who had shouted himself hoarse under his chief's banner, was ready to drink his health as long as there was a passage in his throat. Their capacity for rejoicing was large, and their thirst was deep, but in spite of the various kinds of courage which came up like magic from below, a sicken ing thread of doubt soon began to run among them like the serpent which poisons the cup. The trouble did not lie with the Aldermen, for of City Fathers' seats they had captured their full share, and in the Legislature as well they were to be appro priately represented; but when it came to the office of District Attorney the returns were of such complexion as to cause these worthy citizens grave uneasiness as to the stability of the state. The more discouraging these returns the harder be came the lines in Doc' Connor's face. " Wait," he repeated doggedly, " the count ain't all in yet. These first returns are just to ' jolly ' that * Ping- Ill 118 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Pong Push.' Why, I can't lose. I was in politics when that kid was straddling his father's cane." To cheer his heart, Connor's own election district sent in the remarkable record of 295 votes for Featherstone and 9 for his opponent. " How did those nine votes get in ? " demanded the chief grimly. In spite of the quantity of " Imperial Brut " in which Billy Finn had bathed his own flagging spirits, he be came more downcast as the dawn appeared. Finn had a keen sense for the political barometer; he had felt it falling all night, and now he saw defeat in spite of the attitude of his chief, who still sat at his post figuring over the bits of thin tissue paper, his hat hard down on the back of his head, as determined and unyielding as ever. The campaign quarters were nearly empty. Most of the lieutenants had gone home to bed, tired out, or otherwise in sore need of rest. A fetid odor of dead cigar smoke hung over the close room and a disorderly array of empty champagne bottles lined the tables, the " dead soldiers " of a lively and fatal campaign. " There ain't any use our sitting up all day," said Finn ; " the returns are all in, and we've got to wait for the official count to find out who's elected District At torney." Connor looked at him sternly. " I don't need to wait for any official count to tell me who's elected in this town. Featherstone's elected. I promised Eddie Feath erstone that he should be next Attorney, and I always keep my word. Boys ! " he cried to the few who re mained, " take a last drink to the very good health of the good fellow, Edward Featherstone, and then go and get your beauty sleep." THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 113 The toast was drunk standing, and the patriots filed out into the dull gray morning, leaving the club-rooms to the brooms of the char- women, who swept out the cigar-stubs and sent the " dead soldiers " rattling to their graves. The fight for District Attorney was so close that a handful of votes either way would have turned the scale. Until the result of the official count was known, Con nor never faltered ; he loudly claimed the election of his favorite, though some of his partisans lost weight under the tension, for they had set more than their hearts on Featherstone. The Doc' veiled his anxiety under the stolidity which had served him all through life, but he lost his habitual self-control when the official count de clared Richard Haverland elected by a slight plurality. " Them figures lie ! " he shouted. " Here's my own * official ' count kept as clean as a whistle. It shows Featherstone is elected by a clear 491 votes ! " " The official count threw those 491 votes clear out. They threw out all the votes from the Fifth and two other election districts," explained Finn. " The Fifth is my own election district, right where I've lived all my life ! " bellowed Connor. " And I am captain of it," said Finn sadly. There was a silence. If anyone drew an inference from these coincidences, he was too considerate to men tion it. " My own election district," repeated Connor, looking about him sternly, like a monarch whose royal will to do what he chose with his own had been thwarted, " and all those votes were mine. They are working a fraud on me. I won't stand for it." " I knowed Haverland would win," said the melan choly Finn. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " You knozved Haverland would win," mimicked Con nor savagely. " Since when did you know all that? " " When he handed me that black eye down at Har mony Hall, I knowcd then he was a winner." " He ain't won," said Connor angrily. " The will of the people is violated. The Constitution of the United States is threatened. Democracy is in danger, and I won't stand for it ! " This patriotic outburst was received with great favor by his adherents, but his protest did not avail with the Election Board, for a certificate of election was issued to Richard Haverland. In his secret heart Richard had never expected to be elected. He had thrown himself into the campaign with all his might, and even when the election turned out to be so close that only an official count could determine the result, with both sides claiming the victory, he went to his office regularly, and set industriously to work to make up for lost time. It was Frank Thayer who first brought to him the news of his election. He found him at his desk in the evening, laboring as if he had never heard of politics. Thayer sat down rather languidly. His face was paler than usual, for the night work of the campaign had been a heavy strain upon him. His eyes were uncom monly bright as he said : " I did not think we would do it, Haverland, but we have won." Richard turned in his chair with a quick flush of sur prise. Beyond this he took the matter very coolly. " It's a surprise to me, Thayer, I admit, for I never expected it, even after Butterworth's sudden death. Of course it is Butterworth's death which has thrown me into office." THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 115 " Haverland," Thayer broke out quickly, " I want to say one thing to you now, while we are alone. It is about Colonel Horner. Our being together in this work may have been a surprise to you. I am something of an opportunist. Horner is a good worker and is useful. As long as I can see him, I trust him. He did not ex pect your election, but now that you are elected I feel sure that I do not misjudge the man in saying he will claim the lion's share of the credit. Your office is one of the greatest responsibility." Thayer spoke very slowly. " Well, Homer's ideals are different from yours and mine, and I want to put you on your guard a little. I hope you do not mind my taking the liberty." Richard Haverland took Frank Thayer by the hand. " I promise you, Thayer, that I will do my best, and I will turn aside for no man." As their eyes met an understanding and a friendship sprung up between the two men which lasted through their lives. " Is Mr. Haverland in his office? Thanks, I'll find him." The loud voice of Colonel Horner came from the outer office, and without further announcement he brushed into the room. " Mr. District Attorney, let me congratulate you. I told you that you would be elected. You trust Jake Horner to keep his word." Haverland smiled pleasantly. " I thank you, Colonel Horner, for the work you have done in the campaign, and I thank Mr. Thayer for his untiring energy and devotion ; but we must admit that my election was only a fluke, occasioned by the death of Butterworth." " Now don't make any mistake," cried the Colonel. " Some of the Butterworth votes went for you, some for Featherstone and some for golf. It was the meeting in Harmony Hall which clinched the thing." 116 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Richard laughed loudly. " Why we did not get six words over the first row they would not have us." " My dear young friend, it was the moral effect. I know all about these things. You will pardon my say ing it, but I was in politics when you were wearing short pants. Why I planned the whole thing. I did not expect to get many votes right there, but I knew the value of a big advertisement, and the people all over the city would read about it and talk about it, and the Respectable Citizen would turn out strong for you. Nothing frightens the Respectable Citizen like a little violence. In his mind's eye he sees the whole social fabric falling to ruin, so out he gets to prevent it. That was the man I wanted to catch, and I did it." Haverland's lips were closed. " Do I understand you to say, Colonel Horner, that you deliberately planned a disorderly meeting and made us unknowingly party to it, merely for the dramatic effect? If so I must tell you that your action was unwarranted, and I for one am the reverse of grateful." Colonel Horner eyed Richard uneasily for a moment, then he laughed. " Of course I did not plan to have the rotten eggs thrown, but I was an accessory to this extent: When I learned that Finn wanted a hundred tickets I said * give 'em two. If that crowd want to come and be converted, let 'em come, there's room in the hall to convert them.' I got the reserves just at the right time, didn't I? I did nothing of which I am ashamed, or anything which deserves censure, Mr. Hav- erland." Thayer took up the conversation quietly. " I did not mind the vivacity of our audience, it added a little spice to the campaign. The fact remains that by a combination of circumstances we have won a great THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 117 victory, which is all the greater because our opponent* flooded the city with money." " Well," said Homer, cheerfully, " it does not matter much now; we have won the election, and if any of the Cadwell crowd sought to help Featherstone at the last moment they got doubly left, and we have the laugh on them, all right. Now I must be off. Take a good rest, Haverland, and in a few days we will get together and talk over your appointments; but be careful of your self now, my dear fellow, there will be lots of work ahead later." " I'm all right," replied Haverland quickly, " I was never stronger, Colonel Horner." " I am sure of that," said Thayer to himself as he went off with Colonel Horner. After they had left, the work on Richard Haverland's desk remained untouched, while he sat gazing out of the window. Rising to his feet he walked to the window and looked out over the city. " God knows where this new path will take me, but I have set foot to it and I cannot turn back ; I must follow it. And I will follow it, wherever it may lead, so help me Heaven ! " CHAPTER XV FRANCIS THAYER'S VOTE. Samuel Haverland was eating his simple breakfast with the newspaper propped up before him in order to waste no time, when his eye fell upon the headlines: RICHARD HAVERLAND ELECTED DISTRICT ATTORNEY. OFFICIAL COUNT GIVES HIM A SLIGHT PLURALITY. He actually started as he read it, and then without any sign of emotion read it aloud to his wife. " Cadwell told me that Featherstone would be elected. I depend upon Cadwell for my political information, and he is generally accurate; but this time Richard has upset his calculations," he remarked dryly. " Samuel," said his wife gently, " are you not pleased with the result of the election ? It would seem that Rich ard has been elevated to a position of considerable dig nity." Old Samuel raised his head, and gave his wife his un fathomable gaze. " Richard Haverland is a young man of extraordinary ability," he said slowly. " His elec tion however is only the result of a chain of accidents of which the death of that estimable gentleman, Joseph Butterworth, was one. I cannot help feeling that Rich ard would have found better employment for his talents, and certainly much larger remuneration, in the service of some large corporation. However, I have no control 118 FRANCIS THAYER'S VOTE 119 over him. He will follow his own path in life," and he resumed his paper. " Haverland beats Featherstone," he read to himself once more, and in spite of the upset to his plans, a light of satisfaction stole into his eyes. " My son wins," he repeated to himself. " Perhaps Richard has political ambitions," continued Mrs. Haverland, " you know he has shown that he does not care for money." " I think," said the dry voice behind the newspaper, " that one term will satisfy his political ambitions." " But why," persisted Mrs. Haverland gently, " if he has chosen that career " " If I understand Richard aright," said old Samuel, putting aside his newspaper, and looking across the table at his wife, " he is not of the material that invites renomination, so one term is all that he is likely to get. And he can't do very much damage in one term," he added musingly. " What damage would Richard want to do? " ex claimed the mother. " None, intentionally, but he has developed some rather startling ideas. There is no telling where he will bring up if he gives them loose rein. However, I think time will temper his blood. I am a great believer in Time." And old Sam Haverland rose and went off to the day's work. Time, in its due course, placed Richard Haverland in the office of District Attorney. And Time, assisted by Thomas Cadwell, brought the bill giving the United Central Traction Company a franchise for fifty years, up for its last reading before the Aldermen. The " City Fathers " were paying slight attention to the clerk. Having decided how he was going to vote 120 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY each was impatient for the roll-call, for the hour was growing late. A strong opposition had been arrayed against the bill, an opposition so determined and so denunciatory, that the framers and friends of the measure had been put upon the defensive. Under direct and repeated charges of bribery they had almost wavered, and the timid among them at one time had trembled in their boots. Frank Thayer, the leader of the opposition, sat at his desk. His eyes were on the bronze clock on the wall be hind the monotonous reader, although the flight of time was of small concern to him now, for he knew that the bill, against which he had fought unceasingly from the beginning of the session to the present hour, was certain to become a law. Joseph Keating standing in the lobby, laughing and chatting while he smoked his cigar, knew just which men had been paid for their votes, and to a cent what they had cost. Under the pressure of the hard, close fight, Keating had been present, not only in the lobby, but had shame lessly come upon the floor of the chamber, for he felt he could not always trust those whom he had purchased. Now, however, he felt safe. Hawley, who had the bill in charge, would not have brought it up if he had not had a majority in hand, and Frank Thayer was beaten. " Frank Thayer is a good fellow and a brainy one, but he don't go to work right," laughed Keating, as with the utmost coolness he awaited the result of the vote, the tally of which he now had on a piece of paper in his vest pocket. The reading finished, Thayer, with his chin resting in his palm, listened to the " Ayes " and " Noes " as they FRANCIS THAYER'S VOTE followed the roll-call. That some of those who were giving their verdict had been bought, he knew ; who they were he strongly suspected, but upon none could he fasten absolute proof. Mechanically Thayer checked the voting, although he knew his cause lost, and that a majority for the bill would be recorded. He could see Keating's face in the door-way of the chamber, as he also kept tabs on the vote. The vote was running close, very close, but Keating knew that he had a majority for the bill and one or two to spare. The clerk called the names quickly in alphabetical order, and the voting ran like the rattle of musketry, each member giving his " Aye " or " No," quickly and distinctly, until the name of Karl Maier was reached. There was a short pause; then the clerk repeated: " Karl Maier." A faint " Aye " sounded on Thayer's right. Thayer turned quickly to look at Maier. He was a little Ger man who kept a delicatessen store, and who was serving his first term on the Board. Thayer had counted on this man's support; only a few days before Maier had con demned the measure in round terms, though broken Eng lish. So feeble was his voice in the affirmative that the clerk repeated his name for the third time. " I voted once, already," said the little German, huskily. " Well, what was it ? " asked the clerk impatiently. " I am for that bill." " Against it ! " cried a dozen voices, " you're against it, Maier ! " Maier turned pale. " I have changed." " He changes his vote. He votes No ! " " Nein, I vote * Yes,' I have changed my mind. I am for that bill. That's right, ain't it?" THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Thayer smiled bitterly ; he had thought the man hon est, but evidently here was one of the weak spots that Keating had reached. After this small incident the bal loting was resumed as rapidly as before. " James T. Sullivan." " Aye, you bet I'm for that bill ! " roared a deep voice. There was such a frank admission of venality in the very ring of his voice and such a broad grin on Sulli van's face that a general laugh followed. Sullivan, who had just had a drink or two before he came in to answer to his name, was feeling good and he joined in the laugh as the roll-call proceeded. " Francis B. Thayer." " Aye." The laugh created by Sullivan was hushed. The clerk in his surprise repeated his name. " Aye." The silence which followed was intense, then Sullivan broke it with an exclamation of naive astonishment. " My God, they've bought him, too ! " A laugh followed this spontaneous remark. Every thing that Sullivan said caused merriment. But here the laughter mingled with shouts of derision. Thayer sat unmoved, one hand shading his eyes, while with the other he held the pencil with which he had been keeping tally. The balloting was concluded, and the bill granting a franchise for fifty years to the United Central Traction Co., was passed with a safe majority. It was after midnight when the meeting adjourned, but before the chamber was empty Keating was in a telephone-booth giving the result to Cadwell. Thayer got up leisurely from his chair, stretched his FRANCIS THAYER'S VOTE 133 arms with a sigh of fatigue, and leaning over towards Maier, said : " Mr. Maier, will you join me over at the Rushmore? " At any other time Maier would have been delighted to get the invitation, but to-night he had six crisp five- hundred dollar bills in his pocket, and he did not want to go into a saloon. The Rushmore was a very high- toned saloon with oil paintings on the wall, a place fre quented by the bigger political guns. Karl Maier gen erally drank his beer at Mindenhof 's, but he did not want to go to Mindenhof's to-night, he wanted to get home to red-cheeked, black-eyed Mrs. Maier, with that three thousand dollars safe in his pocket. It was a fortune. It would take them out of the little place where they had been for five years, and set them up in a fine shop where they would be bound to expand and grow pros perous. Maier felt that he could not get home soon enough and lock that money up. Frank Thayer had a way of asking anything which made a denial difficult. Maier turned red with pleasure at the invitation. While his mind labored to find an excuse, his English was not fluent enough, and he blurted out: "I go over with you," and regretted it immediately. Thayer strolled across the room. " Mr. Sullivan, won't you come over to the Rushmore ? " " I will," was the prompt rejoinder. " I'm that thirsty I could drink up a vat. I say, Mr. Thayer, what a lot of time was wasted in talk, when every mother's son of us knew just what he was going to do," and Sullivan winked at Thayer. The three men went across the street. Upon one side of the gentlemanly Thayer was loud-mouthed Sullivan, and upon the other Karl Maier, whose curly, blond head .barely came as high as Sullivan's red neck, and 124, THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY who walked as if in a dream. Maier had had qualms of conscience about selling his vote, yet here he was shoulder to shoulder with a man he felt had done the same thing, and worse, for Thayer had led the opposi tion, and then gone over to the other side at the last moment; probably for a big price. Maier wondered how much more than three thousand dollars. Poor Maier's conscience was dulled. His ideas of right and wrong were badly mixed, but he felt that he was in very good company, and was rather proud of himself; and every time he thought of the three thousand dollars actually in his possession he had delicious thrills. At the door of the saloon Sullivan stopped abruptly, and turned to speak to a man who seemed to have come across the street with them without actually being of their party. He was a small man, ill-dressed, and he shambled in his gait. His particular mark of distinc tion was a crooked nose. This important feature, like many a well-meaning person, had started right, but some sudden contrariety had deflected it from its course, and it now pointed in a south-westerly direction toward the lobe of his left ear. As Sullivan was a follower of Doc' Connor, so did he have his henchman in the man with the crooked nose, who in turn, doubtless had his own flea, and so on, ad infinitum. " Jerry, wait outside by the bar ; I'm goin' to open a bottle with a gentleman," said Sullivan. The man with the crooked nose disappeared in silence through the swinging doors, like a spaniel. The three men sat down at a polished table in a pri vate room in the rear of the saloon. Under their feet was a thick red carpet. On the wall, in a massive gilt frame, was a striking Bougereau, the row of electric FRANCIS THAYER'S VOTE 125 lights above it revealing somewhat too glaringly, the ripe charms in the Surprise au Bain. Thayer seemed perfectly at home; he smoked a cigar which Sullivan had given him, and leaning back in his chair pressed a button in the wall; a waiter appearing, he ordered a bottle of wine. " Yer little divil ! " exclaimed the genial Sullivan, slapping Thayer on the back, " yer one of us after all." With the wine bubbling in the glasses, Sullivan's mer riment sprang quickly to the surface. He had been drinking freely all the afternoon, and although he car ried the drink as steadily as a man-of-war, it showed in the perpetual broad smile on his red face. " You're a game sport," he declared setting down his glass empt}' for the second time," and when we've fin ished this we'll have another bottle, for I've got money, too." The second bottle was soon forthcoming, for Sulli van would not take " No " from anyone, and Maier was not adverse to the good wine which was so free. He drained off his glass with a sigh of pleasure. " Life was a pretty good place after all, for those who knew how to get into the swim." Thayer turned to him, and asked with perfect natural ness, just as if such things were said and done openly every day: " How much did you get for your vote, Maier? " Unconsciously Maier's hand went towards his breast pocket. He felt Thayer's eyes looking through the double thickness of cloth, ravishing his treasure. Al though he thought he knew that Thayer was in as deep as himself, or deeper, he shifted guiltily in his chair. He looked about the room quickly. " Hist," he whispered 126 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY with a nudge at Thayer, apprehensive that the gentle man had taken too much wine. " Oh we all know you got it," persisted Thayer, " how much was it, five thousand dollars ? " " Five thousand dollars ! " exploded Sullivan. " Did that Dutchman get five thousand, and me only four. Ain't my vote worth more than a Dutch vote? " " Please don't talk loud like that," whispered Maier, thoroughly alarmed. " You make us trouble." " I don't care who hears it, my vote has got to be worth more than a Dutchman's, or there will be trouble." " I only got three thousand dollars," pleaded Maier. " Sure, now? " asked Sullivan. " Sure, that's right, I would not lie about it to you, Mr. Sullivan. You just ask Mr. Keating, that's all he paid to me." Sullivan sounded his hoarse laugh. " That is because you made him pay you in advance. If you had trusted him he might have done better by you. He'll let me have four to-morrow, and I'll get it, you bet. Keating is square." " Did you get five thousand dollars for your vote ? " asked Maier turning to Thayer, his eyes glistening with newly aroused cupidity, while he meditated a further assault upon Keating's unlimited funds. " Five thou sand just for one vote! " " I did not say that I got anything for my vote," re plied Thayer. " You voted for that bill, that wicked bill what cheats the public, for nothing? " inquired Maier, aghast. Thayer got up. " Everyone had a right to vote as he thinks best. Of course if he accepts a bribe for his vote, and gets caught, he runs the risk of going to jail." FRANCIS THAYER'S VOTE 127 Maier felt the cold chills run down his back ; Thayer spoke so deliberately. Sullivan laughed. " If he gets caught, but who is goin' to get caught with the goods on him. Maier you rest easy, you won't get anything more from Keating, and you can bet Thayer got more than you, or he's a bigger fool. Come drink your wine, you Dutchman, just as if it was beer." " Gentlemen," said Thayer, buttoning up his over coat. " The hour is getting late for me. I have a constitution which demands some care, so I will say good night." " I let my constitution take care of me," said Sullivan. " Come, Dutchy, put some more of this bubbling booze in your constitution, it will do it good. So long Thayer; see you some other day." Francis Thayer pushed through the swinging-doors out into the street. He threw the cigar which Sullivan had given him to the gutter with a feeling of disgust, hailed a passing cab, and rode quickly home. CHAPTER XVI THE HONORABLE KARL, MAIER Karl Maier was ill at ease. The red-cheeked wife and the two little Maiers, with a visible promise of a third, failed to revive his heart, or to prevent his mind from reverting to the hour spent with Thayer and Sullivan in the private room of the Rushmore. Again and again he saw the bright red carpet, the striking Bougereau in its gilt frame with the electric lights above it. Then he would see Thayer standing over him, buttoning his overcoat slowly and deliberately, while he gazed down upon him with that inexpressible look in his eyes. Every time his mind brought up this picture he felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. It was not conscience ; he had got past that. He argued with himself valiantly that Thayer was in the same boat. He had doubtless received a much larger sum. He must have been paid at least five thous and dollars to change his vote at the last moment; but Thayer had refused to admit it, while he had got at Maier's secret. Maier told himself over and over again that no one outside of those equally deep in the mire knew that he had received a bribe, yet he feared Thayer, and his previous admiration for him changed to cordial dis like. Karl did not let his wife know that he had this money. Some day he meant to tell her that he had made a lucky speculation, but he decided to allow time to elapse be- 128 fore he enlarged his business, and meanwhile carried the bills in his breast-pocket until they became damp and greasy. He would clutch at them suddenly, as they lay next his heart, to make sure that they were safe, and suffered intermittent chills and fever a dozen times dur ing the day and night for fear of thieves. A week passed in this way, when one morning a man strolled into his store. He was about fifty, with a ruddy out-of-door looking face and a stubby grey moustache discolored by the use of tobacco. He leaned over the counter in an easy, familiar way, and began in a confidential tone. " Say, Maier, the District Attorney would like to see you." Maier turned the color of the cold pork in his win dow. He caught the edge of the counter to keep himself from falling. He would have collapsed but for his wife, whose voice he heard singing to little Karl in the room back of the shop. He loved his wife, and a sudden shock to her in her present condition might be serious, so he pulled himself together with all the manhood he could summon and asked feebly: " I am arrested ? " " I haven't got any warrant for you," replied the man carelessly, " he wants to see you, that's all I know." "What's that for?" " He wants just a little talk with you. You go up and you'll find out." " Just a little talk," Maier repeated to himself, while his conscience, or rather his aroused fears whispered in his ear, Thayer's words : " Of course if a man accepts a bribe and is caught he runs the risk of going to jail." Maier's mind had never worked quickly, yet in the few moments while his eyes rolled about the shop, looking at everything save into the eyes of the man who leaned 130 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY negligently against the counter, his thoughts, borne on the wings of fear, travelled to Canada, Mexico and South America. With the money in his pocket he could get to the most distant corner of the earth, and hide. *' Surely they would never send so far for him, just for three thousand dollars." He had only one thought now, to get away, to get out of the reach of the Law which he could feel dragging him away from his little shop, from the light of day from his wife My God ! if he should run away it would be running away from her. He would never see her again. He could not bear that. He would have to stay. Perhaps if put in prison he still would be per mitted to see her sometimes. Yet if he got safely away she might join him some day later. But then they would watch her, and follow her, and he would be taken and brought back. " Come on, Maier," said the man. " I go with you," replied Karl. " Minna," he called out. " You look after the business, yes, I have to go out with this gentleman for a little." " Yes, Karl." She came through the door almost immediately, lead ing little Karl by the hand, and followed by an odor of cooking. Maier did not dare trust himself to look full at her. He was around the edge of the counter and out of the front door before she was fairly in the room, but her voice followed him to the street: " You must come back again soon for the dinner is nearly ready." He caught one glimpse of her through the window, between the hanging rows of enormous sausage and the piles of canned chicken which she had arranged so taste- THE HONORABLE KARL MAIER 131 fully that he had proudly thought their window even more artistic than that of the fancy-goods store, across the street. She was waiting upon a customer, yet she found time to smile through the window at him. With her dark hair and the color in her cheeks she looked as beautiful as any lady he had ever seen. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, she had not had time to turn them down, and though her hands were a little roughened by work, her arms were as white as any lady's, and it was because of that, and because he felt that she was en titled to a finer shop, and perhaps some day a servant, that he had taken the three thousand dollars. He put his hand to his pocket as if he would throw the bills into the gutter, but the man who walked beside him, so care lessly indifferent, would see, and pick them up. Be sides he could not do it anyway for it was money. It had been his ruin. It meant a shadow over his children and the breaking of Minna's heart, but it was money. If the messenger from the District Attorney's office was aware of Maier's agony he did not show it. He took out a paper of tobacco and offered Maier a chew. This being declined, he helped himself generously and walked along in silence. There was something in the man's indifference which in a slight degree gave Maier courage. " They can prove nothing," he whispered to himself. Only Keating really knew, and he would be the last to tell. As for Sullivan and Thayer, if one of them had told but how could they ? Were they not equally guilty? Perhaps someone had overheard their conversation that evening after the vote? A fierce resolve leaped up within him. He would deny. He would deny to the last gasp, though they tore his tongue out by the roots he would deny. They should never know. Minna should never know. 132 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY There was an atmosphere about the District Attor ney's office of crime detected, and criminals brought to their account that brought back to Karl Maier the weak ness of the knees. He was taken to a small ante-room and left there alone. He felt an absence of stomach, such as afflicts a child on his first day in school. He shifted uneasily on the chair, and studied the pattern of the linoleum on the floor. He thought it less pretty than the new oil-cloth on the kitchen floor at home, and won dered how much it had cost, 40 cents a yard at least. Minna had gotten their's at a bargain for 28 cents ; this was heavier, a little, perhaps. All this time he was saying to himself : " They can prove nothing, and I will deny ! deny ! My God ! they will search me, but I will deny. The three thousand dollars, how did I get it? I earn it. I save it. I carry it here because I fear thieves ; when I find me a safe bank I put it in." For fifteen minutes he sat alone, but it seemed an hour before he was told to come into the District Attorney's room. At last it had come, the fears, that had haunted him ever since that evening when Thayer had looked into his timid heart and shallow mind, were realized. He stood before the Law. Yet after the first moment of suspense he felt a sense of some relief at the sight of the public prosecutor. He saw a man of about thirty, with kindly eyes and an attractive manner. His mouth was strong and determined, but there were pleasant lines in the corners of it, and there was something about his per sonality which invited confidence. " Sit down, Mr. Maier," he said in a friendly tone, as if Maier had dropped in upon him casually for a chat. Karl gave a quick glance about the room, and sat down on the leather-covered sofa, holding his hat awk- THE HONORABLE KARL MAIER 133 wardly. He caught at a straw of hope; perhaps after all the District Attorney wanted to see him about a dif ferent matter, and he had had all that scare for nothing. " Had a pretty lively session so far down at the City Hall, have you not, Mr. Maier? " " Yes, something doing all the time." Maier felt himself turn red, there was a synonymous meaning to the term " something doing," freely used in certain quarters, and which was the very last interpreta tion he intended to convey, so he corrected himself quickly, and said: " We have lots to do, every day." " You have had some important legislation this year." "Hein?" " A good many important bills have come up for the consideration of the Aldermen this year." " Yes, a good many bills." " I see the United Central Traction Co. got its bill through all right." Maier felt himself grow cold. He tried to make, a nonchalant reply, but his tongue refused to work. The District Attorney had spoken with perfect natur alness, as if there had been nothing out of the way in the passage of the measure, and as he spoke he pulled out one of the drawers of his desk. Karl watched him, expecting to see him produce a list of those who had been bribed, with his own name among them. He gripped the arm of his seat as if it were the dentist's chair. He was prepared now, and would deny ; though they took him to the electric chair no one should ever know. Minna should never know. The District Attorney held out a box of cigars. " Take a cigar, Maier? " The momentary relief brought a sigh from Karl. He 134 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY wiped his forehead. " Yes, thanks." He took the cigar and tried to light it. " You are lighting the wrong end," said the District Attorney politely. Karl laughed nervously. " I smoke a pipe mostly," he explained. The District Attorney leaned back in his chair, and puffed his own cigar leisurely. " How much did you say you got for your vote, Mr. Maier? " The cigar dropped from Maier's nerveless fingers to the floor. He felt the keen eyes of the District Attor ney but he could not meet them. Then he recalled how Thayer had impressed him when he had said : " I did not say I got anything for my vote." With a great effort he got upon his feet, and looked down upon the District Attorney with all the dignity he could muster. " I did not say that I got anything for my vote." The District Attorney got up, and placing his hand on Maier's arm forced him gently back into his seat. " Tell me all about it, Mr. Maier." " I tell nothing, there is nothing. That was a good bill. The wheels of progress, the business interests of this city " " In this case ' the wheels of progress ' were greased in the Aldermanic Chamber; how much did you get, three thousand dollars ? " " Not a cent." " Have you got it with you ? " " Nein, I have it not, how can that be when I have it not at all," exclaimed Maier excitedly. " Mr. Maier," said the District Attorney, " it is known that money was used improperly to obtain that franchise. THE HONORABLE KARL MAIER 135 It is known to me that you received some of that money, now I wish you would give me the details." The District Attorney spoke very naturally as if there was nothing out of the way in accepting a bribe, and as if the most natural thing in the world was for those con cerned to make a confidant of the District Attorney. " I can tell nothing, I know nothing," was the dogged answer. " Now, Mr. Maier," said the District Attorney in his persuasive way, " I have evidence that you received three thousand dollars for your vote, but there are men guiltier than you, higher in the social scale than you, whom I wish to reach, and I can only reach them through you." " I have nothing to say," breathed Maier feebly. " The state wants your help, Maier ; the state is dis posed to deal leniently towards those who help to con vict greater criminals than themselves. I can give you no promise of immunity, but I can assure you that if you will aid the state your position will be much better. The chances are you will not suffer severely for this, your first crime." Karl shrunk at the sound of the word. " You will have a chance to redeem yourself, to be still a decent citizen, a good husband and a good father." Maier began to swallow hard. The District Attor- new was pacing the floor slowly. " I can convict you, Maier, and I will send you to jail as sure as you are sitting on that sofa. It will mean three years at least." Maier began to whimper like a frightened school-boy. " I will go before the Grand Jury and ask for an in dictment " There was something appalling in the sonorous words 136 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " Grand Jury " ; Karl Maier sprang up and caught the District Attorney by the arm. " Don't you go before that Grand Jury, Mr. District Attorney, don't you do it," he pleaded earnestly. The District Attorney took him by the arm and placed him in a chair. " Now, Maier, tell me all about it." Maier became obstinately dumb. " I have not done anything wrong," he said. " Very well, Mr. Maier, I'll tell you what I will do. I'll give you until to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock to come in here voluntarily, and tell me who gave you that money and all the attendant circumstances; if you don't do it by that time you will be arrested." Karl Maier drew a breath, glad of the respite. " Meanwhile you will be watched, you cannot get out of the country or even the city. You can go now." When Maier walked out of the District Attorney's of fice into the sunlight he seemed to be in a strange world, He felt as if he had been turned in-side-out during the interview upstairs, and that he had neither mind nor will-power left. He had one overshadowing, overpow ering sense ; that by eleven o'clock on the day following he would have another ordeal, to escape which he knew not where to turn. As he walked along in a dazed condition, he met a friend who addressed him as " the Honorable Mr. Maier." He smiled feebly, and wished from the bottom of his heart that he had never had that title thrust upon him. He devoutly wished he was not an " Honorable " ; willingly would he have exchanged stations with the humblest in the land. And yet a few months ago he had been so very proud of his election. Conner had given him the nomination in return for the good showing he had made as a district captain dur- THE HONORABLE KARL MAIER 137 ing a previous year. Now his mind turned to Connor as one who might aid him in his extremity, and he bent his footsteps in the direction of the Rushmore. He had to knock about the saloon for an hour before he could get an audience with the chief. During this in terim he took two or three drinks to pass away the time, and when he finally got upstairs, and Connor had greeted him with a friendly, " What can I do for you, Mr. Maier," he felt better. Although he could not bring himself to tell Connor the whole truth, he let him know that he was in danger of being arrested, and in the tone of a faithful retainer implored his aid and counsel. " My dear Alderman," replied Connor slowly, " what'd you have me do with that District Attorney? I can't do a thing with him, and that's as much as any one else can do. If Featherstone was in the office we'd call the matter off right here. But I don't see what I can do for you. If there was anything else you wanted, now." Maier's spirits fell again. He had come in with the feeling that somehow Connor could save him. He could not think of anything else he wanted just then. " Now if you want my advice," said Connor. Maier answered feebly that he did. " Well then, whatever you do, don't squeal. I have no use for a man that squeals. Now I don't know what you've done, I don't want to know, but if you've got into any little trouble which you can't get out of, don't you let on. You take your medicine with your teeth shut and bide your time. If you can't fight your man to-day, wait a while, some day you may be able to get at him, and then strike back good and hard." Maier thanked the boss for his advice and said he would follow it. 138 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " Confess," continued Connor with contempt, " that's just polite talk for squeal. I'd like to see anybody get Michael Connor to confess anything he'd done. I'd ' confess ' him all right. Now Maier, if I can do any thing for you at any time, come in and see me. I re member your work in Election District nine of Ward six, two years ago. You worked hard for the organization and I'm your friend. Now don't you let them bluff you. If they have anything against you, let them prove it, that's all, let them prove it, but don't you go and let them prove anything against anybody else through you. After you've had a term or two at the City Hall you'll be able to keep out of trouble." Maier went home feeling much stronger. He had had a couple more drinks in- the company of his chief, and he felt that he could defy the District Attorney and the whole machinery of the law. Minna's dark eyes looked at him reproachfully as he entered the shop. " It's nearly three o'clock and the dinner is cold and put away," she said. " I asked you to come right back." Maier had forgotten about dinner, and now his whirl ing head told him he had eaten nothing, and had taken four or five whiskies on an empty stomach. " I'll just take a bite of bread and meat," he replied. " Karl ! " exclaimed his wife. " You've been drink ing. I did not think you'd go to Mindenhofs in the daytime, and me so hard worked, too." " I have not been to Mindenhof's this day," he an swered shortly. " Where have you been, then, and who was that man who came here? I don't like his looks. "Neither do I like him ; I wasn't with him long." THE HONORABLE KARL MAIER 139 " Karl," said Minna, coming close to him and putting her hand on his arm, " you are not like yourself a bit to-day; you've been different for several days, too. Won't you tell me where you have been all the afternoon, leaving me all alone in the shop with the two children? And I don't like your drinking like that either." " Now, Minna, hush. I've been to the Rushmore." " The Rushmore, indeed, and do you think that you are a millionaire since you got that job of Alderman? There is no sense in your going to the Rushmore to get your drink, and me working my hands off without a servant." " You don't know what you talk about. I was there on business, and do you think I can refuse a drink when Boss Connor sets it up ? " " Well, there's no reason you're coming home and treating me like this, if you have been drinking with Mr. Connor, and me in this condition as you know." Minna burst into tears suddenly. " I am sorry you ever went into politics at all, you were much nicer and kinder before." " Don't you talk all that nonsense. Politics is all right, after you've been in 'em a while. And I can take my medicine with my teeth shut; and now I'm going to bed, for I'm tired," and Alderman Maier walked off with much dignity, and went to bed in his boots, leaving his wife's tears undried on her red cheeks, which sur prised and grieved her all the more because it was un precedented. All through their married life, easy-going Karl Maier had been sweet-tempered. " It is all due to those politics," she said to herself as she wiped her eyes on her apron. " I wish Karl would give it up." CHAPTER XVII MAIER TAKES HIS MEDICINE The Honorable Karl Maier had fallen asleep, strong in the determination not to " squeal." Doc' Connor had no use for such a man, and Connor was a big man, and his friend. " I'll take my medicine through my teeth," he muttered as he threw himself down on the bed, and dropped into a heavy sleep. When he got up next morning, he felt as if he did not have a friend in the world. Connor could not help him. If Featherstone had been elected it would have been different, but now it would be three years at least. When little Karl put his face up to be kissed his father set him to one side almost roughly. At any other time he would have caught the little fellow up and kissed his warm cheeks and his eyes and his curly head, and then his baby hands, for he adored the child, but he feared to touch him lest he should burst out crying like a baby himself. He went out hurriedly into the shop, while Minna followed him with an angry glance. She had not forgiven him for the day before. Before the three years were gone she would forgive him, he thought mournfully. And little Karl would be in trousers when he came out of prison. He busied himself about the shop without venturing once to go into the back rooms. He fumbled at the till and made wrong change, and kept his eye on the clock. For a City Father he was a very abject, unhappy little man. 140 MAIER TAKES HIS MEDICINE 141 At half past ten he could stand the strain no longer. " Minna," he called out, " you come and tend for a while, I have to go out." She came out suddenly enough, her eyes flashing. " No, you don't go out of this place this morning, Karl Maier ! I won't have you at the Rushmore drink ing today, or ever again in the daytime, like yesterday, if you are going to live with me and these children." " I must go, Minna," he argued. " I must go. It is not to the Rushmore, it is business." " Business or no business, you stay in here today." It was she who usually decided things in the family, but as he saw the hands of the clock, which would not stay still, he pushed quickly by her. " I go out," he shouted, " I go anyway. It makes no difference what you say." Taken completely by surprise she let him go, but she vowed that when he did return there should be an under standing and a complete reorganization of affairs in the Alderman's family. It lacked a few minutes of eleven when Maier entered the District Attorney's office, and again he had to wait in the ante-room until the public official should be at leisure. He kept pulling out his watch nervously, and saw the hands pass the hour. He felt sick as the thought came over him that he might be too late after all to gain any advantage by telling. He had got to " squeal " anyway now. Connor could not help him. No one could aid him, and he knew he could not stand out before the District Attorney. " Well, Mr. Maier," said the Attorney pleasantly when they were alone. " I get off, if I tell? " asked Karl trembling. " I cannot promise entire immunity, but you will THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY stand a much better chance, and you will feel much bet ter, so sit down and fire away." Maier drew a long breath, and began to talk hur riedly. " I was against that bill first. I think it give away too much. Yes. Also Mr. Thayer was against it. That time I liked Mr. Thayer. Pretty soon, when everybody begin to say the bill fail, a man come to me and he says, ' Mr. Maier, how long is it that you was an Alderman ? ' " I told him ' three months.' Then he ask how much I make. " ' My salary,' I says. " ' What,' he cries out, ' nothing but your salary out of it. Maier, you are the easiest ever. What for are you in politics three months, and just your salary? ' " ' I am an honest man,' I told him straight. " ' That's all right. What is an honest man ? It is a man what votes right ; what votes in the interest of the people ; now all I ask of you is to let me bring you to a man what will convince you that the right vote is for that bill. If he does it, all right. If he don't do it, all right. You are an honest man, Mr. Maier, you vote the way you think.' " I told him I was convinced enough against it, but anyway we go to Mindenhof's, and in the back room there was a fine gentleman, Mr. Keating. He gives me the glad hand, and he orders the drinks. We sit and talk a good while, and he was very much in favor of that bill, and I feel that he begin to convince me. He says, * Now, Mr. Maier, I don't want to influence you, but say you vote for that bill, it means not so much to you, perhaps, but to me it is a big thing. If you should think it right to vote for it, I should give you afterwards MAIER TAKES HIS MEDICINE 143 a present of three thousand dollars. I should be un generous if I forgot you.' He took out a big lot of money, mein Gott, I say nothing, so much money I never have seen. " * Three thousand dollars,' he says again, and spread out the money all over the table. ' That is,' he said, * you understand, if your mind is already decided that it is a good bill to vote for anyway. Then afterwards when I give you that money it is a present. I can give you a present if I want to, can't I, Yes ? ' " I think so too, for I think a present, that is not the same like a bribe. He begin to put the money away, and I says quick : ' I think that a good bill anyway, and I vote for him.' " ' Sure ? ' he asks. " ' Sure,' I says, * I think that a very good bill.' " He laughs, and instead of putting the money in his pocket he slip it into mine. * That's all right, you take my little present now.' " I say not one word, my head was going round and round, so much money I never had seen. " Then we have another drink, and Mr. Keating he takes me by the arm, and to one side, and say very seri ous : * Maier, you keep that promise what you make to me tonight.' " * I give you my word,' I answer him, a little of fended. " * That's all right, I trust you, Maier ; you stick to me and you will wear diamonds.' That's all the truth, Mr. District Attorney." " This is the best day's work you have done in a long time, Mr. Maier," said the District Attorney, cheerfully. " Now I will take you to a gentleman who will take your sworn deposition. You stick to the truth in future, and 144 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY though you may not wear diamonds you will be able to look men in the eye, while some of your diamond friends will be wearing stripes. By the way, did Mr. Sullivan say in your presence at the Rushmore that he had re ceived from the same source four thousand dollars for his vote? Think carefully, for I may ask you to swear to it, some day." " I can take my oath that he did say that." As Maier went out he thought he saw Sullivan him self in one of the outer rooms talking in his glib tongue to some of the clerks. Maier slid away unobserved ; he did not wish to meet him just now, nor did he wish to see Connor, and he hurried home to make his peace with Minna, wondering what Sullivan was doing there. As soon as the District Attorney was back in his own office he struck his bell sharply. " Send in that man Sullivan," he said to the clerk. Mr. Sullivan entered, unabashed. He looked around the office coolly. He wore a fancy waistcoat of black, splashed with red dots, and across it a double gold chain like a cable, and he smiled as if some joke were hidden under the invitation to call. " Take a seat, Mr. Sullivan." " I won't stop for that. You asked me to drop in, so I did while on my way to the City Hall. You said you might have something to say which would interest me." " Yes, and so I have. I have just had a call from a man who says that he received three thousand dollars for his vote on the franchise bill, and that you received four thousand ; why did you get more than he ? " " Somebody has been giving you a fairy tale," replied Sullivan. " Now you know that I know you got it ; tell me all about it." MAIER TAKES HIS MEDICINE 145 " I only wish I had got it," laughed Sullivan, " if they are handing it out like that I want what is coming to me." " You have stated in the presence of two witnesses that you received four thousand dollars for your vote." " That was only a little bubble talk over a bottle," laughed Sullivan. " It is serious enough to land you in jail. I have a warrant for you, but I don't intend to stop with you." Sullivan frowned. " Mr. Haverland, I want to give you a bit of advice. I've been in politics in this town for twenty years. I've been in the City Hall three years, and it ain't no Sunday-school, I'll admit that, but we know how to run our business down there, and my advice to you is to run yours up here, and don't you interfere with us. You'll be tackling a bigger job than you can handle. You've been in office six months, and you're a new broom; wait a little; later you won't feel so frisky." There was a breezy sincerity about Mr. Sullivan, which made Richard Haverland smile. " Mr. Sullivan, where my line of duty takes me down to the Aldermanic Chamber I will follow it, and I think I'll do it while I'm feeling frisky." Sullivan laughed aloud. " Your nomination was a joke, and you're the biggest joke of all." " I propose to begin with you, Mr. Sullivan, though I tell you frankly that I am after bigger men than you, and if you are willing to assist the State it is likely to remember it in dealing with your case." Sullivan sprang to his feet with an oath. " Assist nothing! Do you think I'm in that sort of business? 10 146 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY I can't waste any more of my time talking with you. I'm due at the City Hall." The District Attorney struck his bell. " I think they can dispense with your services there for today. I want you to answer my question ' yes ' or ' no.' Will you tell the whole truth in regard to the bribery of the Aldermen ? " " You be damned ! " replied Sullivan, angrily. " I take that for * No,' " said the District Attorney quietly. " I am going to ask you to step into another room for a few minutes with these two gentlemen." Sullivan was purple. " You've played me a dirty trick, Mr. District Attorney, but you will smart for this. I've got friends " " You can communicate with them over my telephone if you wish, in regard to your bail bond. I shall ask to have the amount fixed at five thousand dollars." " I can furnish bail large enough to buy your office out," shouted Sullivan. " You don't know what you are up against." " Now, Mr. Sullivan, as I am very busy today, if you will reserve further comment until I send for you a little later, I shall be much obliged," said the District Attor ney. Sullivan was so overcome with astonishment and wrath that he allowed himself to be led away without making any coherent reply. Again the District Attorney struck the silver bell on his desk, the doorkeeper with the stony countenance answered it as before. " Is Mr. Keating waiting in the office outside? " " He has been waiting for ten minutes, but he has just sent word he would have to go, unless you could see him at once, for he has another engagement." " Show him in at once." MAIER TAKES HIS MEDICINE 147 The District Attorney greeted Keating with just the slightest touch of sarcasm. " I am sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Keating, for your time must be val uable." Keating nodded easily, sat down without being bidden, and looked at him with curiosity. The District Attor ney also looked at Keating very closely. Keating was fashionably dressed, a diamond of bril liant water ornamented his scarf, a handsome chain crossed his vest; beyond a large seal ring on his finger there was no ostentatious display of jewelry. " However, I'm rather glad you concluded to wait, Mr. Keating, for it saves me the trouble of sending out for you." " Oh, that's all right. If you ever want to see me, just telephone to me at my hotel as you did today; if I'm free I'll drop in to see you on my way down town. I must ask you to be a little short now, however, for I have an important engagement." " I will be short enough to suit you. I telephoned you because I thought you would prefer to come here rather than have an officer go to your hotel. You have a family, have you not? " Keating nodded slightly, as if to say he might have. The District Attorney continued : " I have proof that you have used money to corrupt Aldermen; there is a warrant out for your arrest." " Corrupt Aldermen ! " exclaimed Keating. " Is that a j oke, Mr. Haverland ? " " Well, the purchase of votes in a thoroughly business like way, if you like that term better. But as it is against the law, and I have convincing proof that you have been guilty of the crime, I intend to begin with you, and bring you to book for it." 148 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY As the District Attorney paused, Keating did not try to hide a sneer. " I don't admit anything, Mr. Haverland. Of course I understand your position. You've just been elected to this office. You won't get another term unless you make a big name for yourself, and force your nomination on one or the other of the two parties. I see your game." " I think," said the District Attorney, " that you rather fail to see my game." " Well, say we admit for the sake of argument that you are on the trail of some man who has demanded his price ; let us say for the sake of argument that you have enough evidence to convict ; if we are frank, you and I, we will say that we know that bribery doesn't begin and end with our Aldermen. Well, send up this little fellow with a big hurrah. Make a big time about it and then forget the rest. The public will be satisfied with the vindication of justice; you'll be satisfied, because you will have won your reputation, and the big men, the big criminals, as you call them, they will be satisfied because they have got what they needed." " And how about the one or two poor devils who get sent up ? " inquired the District Attorney. " Will they be satisfied ? " " They won't have much cause to complain. They have the money. They spend a short time in jail, and when they come out they will be taken care of. They may be able to do the trick the next time without getting caught." The District Attorney leaned back in his chair with a quiet smile. Keating, seated on the leather-covered sofa stroking his glossy black moustache with a white, MAIER TAKES HIS MEDICINE 149 well-kept hand, looked around the room in a half -bored way, then at his watch. " Of course I was merely citing a hypothetical case for the sake of argument, and in order to give you a little advice." " You would be surprised to know how much advice has been given to me during the past six months," re plied the District Attorney, " but I haven't followed it, and I'm not going to begin by following yours." Keating smiled his indifference. " This bribery matter has come upon me rather sud denly, but it has come, and I intend to follow it to the end. You're the beginning. I've got enough evidence to convict you, and I think I can do it. Will that satisfy you? " The District Attorney spoke very quietly, but Keating actually started. He started more because of the sud den flash in the eyes of the man opposite him, than through any actual fear, for he still felt secure in the great power which he knew was behind him. " That ought to satisfy any man, Mr. Haverland, if you can do it." " I think I can." " Well, admitting, always for the sake of argument, that you can. I don't think you will." "Why not?" " Because if things were as you think they are, if I was the kind of a man you think I am, then you may be sure that I would be the kind of a man to protect him self. You could not strike at me without striking at men who stand so high in the community that you could not reach them. You would be brought up to a sharp halt." " Very well, Mr. Keating, I think I'll begin with you." 150 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Keating's knowledge of men told him that the man before him would try to do whatever he set out to do, and would try hard, but he did not lose a jot of his com posure, or abate one tittle of his jaunty, indifferent air. He rose to his feet, saying carelessly, " You say I am involved in some money dealings with the Aldermen and that you have a warrant out for my arrest. Bring it out; I'll give bail; but I'll bet you a new hat I never stand trial." " Thank you for the hint," replied the District At torney. " I'll see that your bail is large." " Oh, I won't run away," said Keating with a smile. " It is well to be on the safe side," replied the District Attorney. CHAPTER XVIII CADWELI, TRIES TO PASS IT TO HAVERL.AND Keating, Sullivan and Maier were arrested and out on bail. The District Attorney had previously awakened the interest of his fellow-townsmen by the breezy energy with which he had cleaned out the musty pigeon-holes in the office of an incompetent and unfaithful prede cessor ; now his name was in everybody's mouth. Every body approved his course, and asked everybody else what his motive was, and was given a hundred different rea sons. No one thought of suggesting the oath of office as the primal motive. The morning after the arrests the newspapers told the story in their headlines: ARREST OF ALDERMEN. LOBBYIST IN LAW'S MESHES. Rumors of Far-reaching Rottenness. HAVERLAND GOES HIGHER UP. The newspapers told nothing that the Respectable Citizen had not known. At least the Respectable Citi zen said he had known it all along, and was glad it had come to the light of day. The Respectable Citizen read his paper with added zest that morning, smiling a little as he read, saying to himself: 151 152 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " Of course there is graft in the City Hall. There is graft everywhere. There is graft down in financial circles where I go daily. We are all grafters, but I like this fearless attitude of Richard Haverland. I under stand that he broke away from the old man some years ago, and set out to make a name for himself. By Jove he's doing it, too! I wonder what he is after? " And the Respectable Citizen turned to the financial columns to look at the quotations of the Traction securities. When Thomas Cadwell read his paper that morning he did more than scowl, and an unusually early hour saw him entering the private office of Samuel Haverland, chewing the ends of his dark brown moustache, as he always did when much annoyed. Old Samuel, who had already been at work for an hour or more, looked up from his desk with his bland smile : " Good morning, Mr. Cadwell ! " If Cadwell answered this salutation, he grunted his answer so grudgingly that it did not get through his thick moustache. " You are up and doing, I see, up and doing in this busy world," chirped Haverland, who, if ever inclined to levity, seemed always to hit upon the occasion when clouds were gathering on another's brow. " I have to be," said Cadwell. " Have you read the papers this morning? " " I always read the papers before breakfast ; you see that gives me the rest of the day for " " Then you have seen what sort of a row your son is kicking up," said Cadwell. " Your irrepressible Dis trict Attorney is the talk of the town." " Well, Richard is a very able young lawyer," replied old Samuel. CAD WELL TRIES TO PASS IT 153 " Haverland," said Cadwell, " did you read of the arrests which have been made? " " I read the head-lines." " You would have done better to have read more. He is not going to stop where he is. Having got a taste of popularity or notoriety, he is going in for Reform with a big R. He is going higher up." " Well, why not? I like to see an able man succeed." " But he may be too damned successful," swore Cad- well. " If you are disturbed by the activity of the District Attorney it seems to me that it would be wise to take some action in the matter," suggested old Samuel com posedly. " That's why I am here at this hour." " Why do you come to me ? " inquired Haverland. " You must call this young blood-hound off. He is following all kinds of false scents, but at the same time he may unearth something which will unsettle business. This thing must stop right here ! " " If there is any man in the world able to control the District Attorney, I don't know him," said Haverland. " Does that mean that you will take no steps in the matter ? " asked Cadwell. " I cannot. You may be sure, Mr. Cadwell, that if I could do anything for you I would, but I am helpless." " For me ! " repeated Cadwell. " How about your self, weren't you benefited by that franchise ? " " Decidedly," admitted Haverland frankly, " just as much as any of the other stockholders." " Then you cure interested," said Cadwell pointedly. " The District Attorney claims that money was used to get that franchise." " Let us trust," replied old Samuel, in his most lamb- 154 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY like manner, " that he is mistaken, and that his investiga tions will show him his error." " But if they don't? " cried Cadwell, struggling to keep his temper. " If they do not," repeated old Samuel, " why, then they won't." There was a short pause, during which Cadwell began to swell. " I have bought a few pictures," said old Samuel. " They are for the most part simple subjects: A soft autumnal by Corot ; a bit of pasture by Troyon ; it has some water in it which reminds me of the pool where I used to go swimming as a boy, and the cows are standing in the water just as they do in fly time. Can't you come up to the house some evening Thomas Cadwell exploded with wrath. " Haverland, are you going back on me in this man ner?" " Cadwell," replied old Samuel, " you know it was understood that you were to handle the political end of our affairs. You chose it yourself. Now if through your mismanagement it has got too hot for you, you can't turn it over to me." He ended with a warmth he rarely showed. Then he looked squarely at him, adding quietly : " And if you try it you will get beaten." Cadwell knew he was beaten, and accepted his defeat with an assumed laugh. " I won't try. I can paddle my own canoe, but I believe in making use of personal influence wherever possible." " I have no more influence with the present District Attorney than if J were a ten-year-old boy," said Haver- land. CADWELL TRIES TO PASS IT 155 Cadwell got up and took his hat. " I'm something of a fighter, there may be lively times," he said. " If I were you," said old Haverland guardedly, " mind you, this is only a suggestion as to what I would do if I were you " " Well, what would you do? " asked Cadwell abruptly. " I should be disinclined to let the matter get as far as that man what's his name? " " Keating," answered Cadwell shortly. " As far as Keating," repeated old Samuel. Thomas Cadwell lit a cigar, and stood a few moments looking down thoughtfully at his associate. Haverland resumed his work industriously, and through the halo of tobacco smoke, Cadwell seemed to be studying the bumps of the old gentleman's head. " Keating's all right," remarked Cadwell carelessly, and then his large form disappeared through the door. Although Karl Maier's bail bond was the smallest of the three, he had the greatest difficulty of the three in finding bondsmen. Doc' Connor had cheerfully gone on the bond of his friend Jim Sullivan but had turned his back contemptuously on the man who had " squealed." Finally a friend had come forward, and Maier was able to walk about in the light of day. After the first shock was over; after he had become familiar with his picture in the newspapers, he began to feel like a man of some importance. When it had first come out he had been ashamed to look Minna in the face. He knew that Minna could not have been bribed to do anything against her conscience or against her will, and he could not bear to> meet her eye. She made him tell her the whole story, and she listened quietly while he related how Keating had " convinced " 156 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY him, and how he had taken the " present " almost be fore he knew what he was doing. She heard how he wanted to enlarge his business, and to have her wear finer clothes, how he wanted to hire a servant to do the hard work, so that she might have white hands like her beautiful arms. When he had finished she did not re proach him. She threw her arms around his neck. " Anyhow, you love me, Karl but I would work hard with my hands rather than have you go to jail." Karl shivered as he said in a low tone, " The District Attorney, he is a kind-hearted man." " And at one time you might have run away and left me," she exclaimed, holding him off at arms-length and looking at him reproachfully. " No, no, I could not leave you, Minna. Perhaps if I could have taken you and the children, but no, it is better so. The District Attorney is a fine man." " I am glad you did not run off like that," she said, drawing him closer to her. " I would rather have you near me, even if it was in jail, than in one of those for eign countries." " Please don't talk so much about that jail," whispered Karl. " I tell you that District Attorney has got a good face." " Let me see that money," she asked with curiosity. " I have never seen so much money in all my life." " I have it not. The District Attorney he took it away, and put it in his safe." " Oh my Karl ! " cried his wife, suddenly throwing her arms about him again with effusion. " I love you bet ter than all that money. I would work hard, yes, I would work so hard that my arms would get as red as my hands rather than you do that." " Minna, don't you feel bad. I take my medicine for CADWELL TRIES TO PASS IT 157 this, and I never do it again. When a man comes with his presents I'll tell him to go to hell right away quick." The Honorable Mr. Sullivan went about with his usual smile, loudly proclaiming his innocence, and in the bar room, among his intimates, asserting with equal ve hemence that he would never squeal. Keating continued to reside in his comfortable rooms at the hotel, not permitting the incident of his arrest and impending trial to interrupt in any way the daily routine of his business, whatever its nature. It was rumored the case of the District Attorney had flashed in the pan. Keating was cool and confident, Sullivan was as defiant as an Irish King, and it was said that Maier, who had turned state's evidence, would be a poor witness. But the District Attorney was undis turbed. He held many conferences with Francis Thayer, and it suddenly became known that Keating was to be tried first. Everybody was surprised, for popular opinion had slated Maier for the first trial, had said he would be convicted on his own confession and get a short sentence. Sullivan was to go free on a disagreement, and as for Keating, people shook their heads and de clared with a dubious smile " that Keating would never wear stripes." Then came the rumor that in a stormy and dramatic interview with the District Attorney, the Honorable Mr. Sullivan had broken down. This was denied vehemently by his friends, and no one could ascer tain the facts, but it was a fact beyond all question that before he could be brought to the bar Keating disap peared. Showy Mrs. Keating continued to reside in her apart ment at the hotel. She rode about openly in her auto mobile, spent as much time and money as ever in the shops, and wore as handsome gowns as if her kind and 158 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY indulgent husband were at home to settle all the bills. If she did not seem to feel the separation keenly, pos sibly it was because she knew that it was necessary for his happiness. Keating's friends, in the City Hall and out of it, smiled even in the face of the District Attorney when they met. On his side he concealed his deep chagrin and took up the cases of Maier and Sullivan. Karl Maier pleaded guilty at once, and received a short term of imprisonment in the State Penitentiary, where he resided a repentant and chastened Alderman. Sullivan, red-faced, loud-voiced and defiant to the last, was convicted, and retired into the seclusion of the State's Prison, leaving a number of vociferous mourners outside. There was also one quiet mourner in the person of the man with the crooked nose. He was left like a disconsolate dog to nurse his grief alone, which he did in resentful silence, slinking in the corners of saloons. Little by little the affair dropped from public view, but the District Attorney, Francis Thayer and a de tective spent some time together behind closed doors, and shortly afterwards Thayer started off on a pleasure cruise on his yacht, and Richard Haverland was left to put his energies into routine work. CHAPTER XIX FEANCIS THAYEB'S QUEST Francis Thayer's yacht, the Sea Foam, was anchored in southern waters. The Sea Foam, like her owner, was built of the best material, on slender, graceful lines. Off Hatteras it had blown a gale and the staunch little craft had been tossed about like a chip, but the engine in her heart never failed, and had brought her safely through the storm, through the smoother waters of the Antilles, to an anchorage in a smiling bay. It was early morning, with the wind blowing in from the sea. Outside the harbor, line after line of waves rose to break into crests of frothy whiteness, while within the sheltering arms of the promontories that enclosed the harbor, the Sea Foam, her sides as white as the crest of the waves outside, rose and fell gently at her moorings with an idle, soothing motion. Francis Thayer stood at the ship's side. His cheek, browned by a fortnight's contact with the sea wind, was fuller, and the lines of fatigue about his eyes and mouth had disappeared. He wore a white yachting suit and as he leaned against the rail he appeared to be the pic ture of careless indolence. Thayer had but one guest aboard the Sea Foam. This was a man of about fifty, with a healthy color, a slightly arched nose, and a mous tache which would have been white but for the discolora tion of nicotine. He was a man of retiring habits, little 159 160 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY given to conversation, who rarely drank and who never smoked, using tobacco only in the form of a plug, named " Honest John," a small quid of which was always tucked away in one corner of his cheek. Thayer now hailed him as he stood in the bow, with a cheerful : " Well, Stevens, we're here at last ! " Stevens strolled aft, his hands thrust deep in the pockets of a heavy, dark blue serge coat. He glanced at the fort which frowned above them on the right, and then allowed his eyes to travel over the green waters of the bay to the distant town, where the closely grouped houses finally straggled out into haciendas in the interior. Having assured himself beyond all contradiction that they were there, Stevens gave his assent by a short nod. " The important question to us is, whether Keating is here; if not, we might just as well, and better, be in any other portion of the globe," said Thaj^er. With an ease and grace acquired by long practice, Stevens expectorated far out into the green water of the bay before he replied : " He's here all right." The conversation might have ended here, had not Thayer pushed his guest further. " I have come all this distance, Stevens, on your posi tive assurance that we should fnd Keating, but you have never told me your reason for believing him to be at this particular place." " What day did we leave home, the sixth, didn't we ? " said Stevens, answering his own question. Thayer nodded. " And no mail steamer has passed us ? " " There is none due to touch here until the twenty- seventh or eighth," said Thayer. " Then Keating will stay here until after the twenty- seventh or eighth," said Stevens, " and very likely for FRANCIS THAYER'S QUEST 161 some time longer, for he is safe here unless " Ste vens half closed his eyes for a moment and lapsed into silence. " It's not that I doubt your word, Stevens, but before we go ashore, and we can't do that until that sluggish health-officer puts in his appearance, I should like to have you tell me how you arrive at your calculation. I don't think that you have come down here on a dead reckoning." Stevens looked thoughtfully over the waters of the bay. " When Keating gave us leg-bail, the District Attor ney did not say a word, but he looked a lot. I did not say anything, but I swore a lot to myself, and I swore that I'd locate Keating if I gave my life up to it. I began by watching Mrs. Keating. I did not expect such a clever fellow as Joe Keating would have a woman running after him, or even writing letters to him, if he wanted to keep in the shade, but I watched her at the same time I watched others. She was just as slick and lady-like as could be. She did not seem to have any thing in the world to hide. By and by I noticed that she was going down to a little Jew banking firm. It is a firm with a shop just at the edge of the financial centre, and does a business in bullion and old coins, but it also has a pretty extended trade in the West Indies, South America and I don't know where all. Mrs. Keat ing would always take down with her a silver plate, or a pitcher, or something of that sort, and come away with out it. What was more natural than that she should be in need of money, and should prefer to sell these things outright rather than take 'cm to a vulgar pawn-shop? That is all right, only I happened to know that she was spending more money in the shops in an afternoon than 11 162 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY she could have got from the things in a month, so I says to Bill, that's me, ' Bill Stevens, she's sending out money, and not taking it in. Now where is she sending it to? ' I found out that once a month a letter is sent from that little firm of Jew bankers to the firm of Yzquiera Hermanos of this place. That letter carries a loving message from Mrs. Keating in the shape of a bill- of-exchange to the order of Williani Walker, but if Keating doesn't spend that money I'll give up this busi ness, and go to keeping chickens." " Very likely he is here," said Thayer, " and as there is no extradition treaty which covers his offence, he can stay here, I suppose, as long as he wishes." " Mr. Thayer, you give me a few of your sailor-boys, and I will guarantee to bring you Joe Keating by to morrow night." " That would be a violation of international law ; you know you are an arm of the law and are bound to uphold it," replied Thayer with a quizzical smile. " There isn't any law down here worth upholding, and they'll keep Keating as long as he has American dollars to spend." " If the dollars should run out they might be willing to part with him," mused Thayer. " The dollars won't run out. He can keep out of the way forever. You give me six of your men, and I'll get him, even if the local authorities call out their army to protect him. We could sail the Sea Foam right out under the guns of that old fort. It's as harmless as an old hound with rotten fangs." Thayer looked up at the decaying fortress with gen erations of moss on its crumbling walls. " I think we could, but we will try some other way." " What other way is there? " FRANCIS THAYER'S QUEST 163 Thayer made no direct reply. " Here comes the doctor," he said, " later, we will go ashore and look the ground over." It was five o'clock when the two men set foot in the town. The ten or fifteen thousand inhabitants had awakened from their afternoon siesta, but not to any unnatural exertion. The most animated creature within the immediate range of vision was a small mouse-colored mule who stood on the dock, swinging a short tail and a long ear with patient regularity at a cloud of persistent flies. The old tram-car, to which he was attached, was also waiting patiently for passengers, but the travellers were only too glad to stretch their muscles by walking. No one could have mistaken their nationality as they walked up the narrow street, Thayer in his white clothes, Stevens in his double-breasted coat of heavy serge. Each bore the unmistakable trade-mark of the American. A walk of a few minutes brought them to the plaza, where stood the hotel d'Inglaterra, the only hostelry of any pretense of which the town could boast. It was a low building, dirty pink in color, with a few tables of battered tin placed outside the door for the benefit of those customers who preferred to take their refreshments on the sidewalk. It was an unhappy place for any traveller of fastidious tastes to patronize, and could be called a domicile only in comparison with the low-browed adobe huts which faced it on the plaza. The front door of this otherwise inhospitable hotel stood wide open, but there was no one to welcome the coming guests except a half-clad child, who, calmly in different to the gaze of strangers, was exposing its belly with the immodesty of innocence. Thayer and Stevens entered a room as unclean and as unattractive as the outside promised, and found a rather 164 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY comely woman, plump and dark, who greeted them with voluble civility. She was knitting some sort of gay colored gear for the head, and smoking a cigar. She laid aside her work and put down her cigar to receive them politely. When Thayer addressed her in Spanish her face wreathed itself in smiles and she broke out into a stream of language. Stevens could not understand a word of the jargon, but he saw that she was profusely polite, and knew that, whether she was proprietress or servant, Thayer was winning her regard. Stevens set her down as the mistress, for he noticed that the settings in the rings on her chubby fingers were of some value, and although her finger-nails were not clean, there was a piece of handsome lace at her plump throat. Thayer pointed to a court-yard where some tables were laid in the cool of the shade, and their hostess led the way smilingly. They found themselves in a rect angle, with a bit of green turf and a shallow fountain in the centre, and some scraggy date palm trees at the cor ners. This court was entirely enclosed by the four sides of the building, with a double tier of bed rooms opening upon it. Many of their green blinds were drawn up to admit the air, thus disclosing the rooms and their occu pants with that happy frankness incident to warm cli mates. The place was noisy and uninviting. Some loud- voiced young women were conversing on the balcony just above their heads, and an enormous cockatoo of brilliant plumage was holding a furious monologue from the top of one of the palms. From time to time a pair of black eyes would peer over the balustrade at the Americans beneath, and then suddenly disappear, fol lowed by a burst of laughter, to be answered by a volley of squawking from the bird in the tree. A waiter with FRANCIS THAYER'S QUEST 165 a dirty napkin served them with much alacrity. Ste vens put his soup away with perfect stolidness, while Thayer ate his as leisurely as if he were dining at a fashionable restaurant at home. There was but one other customer in the place, an elderly gentleman with a skin like brown parchment, and a gray goatee, who looked at them with apparent curiosity through the smoke of his cigarette out of a pair of beady eyes. " Well, Stevens, a gentleman answering the descrip tion of your friend Keating is here," said Thayer. " Did she tell you so? " asked Stevens with a jerk of the head. " He lives here on the fat of the land ; he will come in to dinner shortly. That is his table over there with the cleanest cloth." " I don't envy him either the fat or the lean of this land ; it would be a charity to kidnap him and carry him off to the United States," replied Stevens, grimly. Thayer made no direct reply. " Wait and you will see him come in ; he is the star boarder down here. Our fair hostess thinks him some American potentate who has been deposed, and who has taken refuge here to await a change in the political weather." Before their soup plates had been removed Keating entered the court-yard with an easy swagger. At sight of his two countrymen he stopped abruptly, and his jaw dropped with amazement. Thayer greeted him pleas antly. " How do you do, Mr. Keating." Joseph Keating hesitated a moment, then he walked up to them and asked. " What are you two doing here ? " " Dining, won't you join us? " replied Thayer. The two men looked at each other for a few moments. 166 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Stevens quietly enjoyed the situation. Keating was dressed in white from hat to shoes; he was as brown as a Spaniard, and had already begun to grow stout. " What brings you to this spot? " he demanded again. " May I ask what brought you? " inquired Thayer. " My own pleasure." " We also took pleasure in coming ; did you not see our boat in the bay ? " " No." " It may be there for some time ; you can go down and take a look at it." " If I don't talk United States for a time, I'll bust. I'll dine with you." There was a touch of defiance in Keating's tone, and he took a vacant chair. " What will you have to drink? " asked Thayer, tak ing up a greasy little wine-card. " Wait," said Keating. " I will order the wines, also the dinner, for you are my guests." " I beg your pardon," said Thayer, " but I invited you." " Any Americans who come to this town must be my guests. I own the place," replied Keating. He gave a lordly wave of the hand, and a waiter appeared. " I'd give ten dollars for an American cocktail," sighed Keat ing, " but they can't hit it off down here. I've taught them the best I knew, and we will give you the nearest result." " Tres cock-tailes, Muy presto." Keating held up three fingers. The waiter, with a flourish, smiled and bowed. "Si, Si, Senor, comprendo." "Well, go and get them if you comprendo," and Keating clapped his hands. The waiter threw his dirty FRANCIS THAYER'S QUEST 167 napkin over his shoulder, and flew to execute the order of his hero. " The worst thing about this place is the language ; I have no use for it," explained Keating. " They call a scraggy little chicken a polio, and bread is pan, what do you think of that? I'll give you a broiled polio and some frejoles 1 , they are good ; then some salad. Here are our drinks. They have named these cock-tables Americanos, and already the natives have caught on to them. That old duffer over there got a beautiful jag the other evening. Well, here's to crime ! " He caught up his glass with an air of bravado and nodded at Ste vens. " And here's the health of both of you gentle men. I hope you have had a pleasant journey, and may you have a safe return ! " Keating put his glass down empty, and his eye met Thayer's boldly. He knew what had brought them there, and in his manner made no concealment of it. " I may be here for some time," said Thayer, acknowl edging the toast. " The longer the better," replied Keating jovially. " Have another of my cock-tailes." " No, I thank you." " You will take one ? " said Keating, turning to Stev ens. " One is enough for me," was the short reply. " I'll have to take two more myself. If I don't get my three cocktails before dinner I have no appetite at all." " You won't be able to do that long in this climate," said Stevens dryly. " Due cocktailes," said Keating, holding up two fin gers. The waiter had studied his patron, and, having them 168 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY all prepared, set them before him with much ceremony, one at a time. " Now hustle and bring us this," said Keating, after wiping from his moustache the last fragrant drops of his favorite beverage. He handed the waiter a slip of paper upon which he had written the order, carefully copied from the bill-of-fare. The man disappeared like a flash. " I've got him trained," Keating explained with a laugh. " I hand him out English in simple little chunks, and let him do the wrestling. It's wonderful how quick they catch on when it's a question of money, and money talks down here just as it does everywhere." " And you, having plenty of money, leisure, good health, and being a resourceful gentleman, must be en joying life to the very top notch," suggested Thayer, sipping a glass of red wine. " Who are your most agreeable associates ? " " Associates ! " laughed Keating. " I have none. That waiter, and the bird in the tree are the two smartest ones down here. That old gentleman shouts his lan guage at me as if I was deaf, so I fight shy of him." " Then life is not exciting here. You would not ad vise me to stay a month ? " " Exciting ! Say, when I get particularly low I go out in the plaza and cuss that old statue of Bolliver just to warm up. That's the most exciting thing I do. They've got a gambling house across the way. I tried my hand over there, but they would not let me bet what I wanted to, and they all smelt so of garlic, I quit. I only lost ten pesos the whole time I was in there. They have a fight there every night over a few silver dollars. I tried to get the Alcalde that's the main guy of the town to have the j oint pulled as disreputable. There's a dance-hall further along, which is worse. FRANCIS THAYER'S QUEST 169 ' Have them both closed up tight,' said I, giving him the wink. He opened his eyes wide, raised his hands to Heaven, and swore that it was as straight a game as ever you played. He talks a little English, which he has picked up from travelers like myself. I tried to get it into his head that the pesos I had lost did not cut any ice with me, but if he would close them up he could make them pay what was right to open up again. It took me the longest time to drill the idea into his nut, and when he did grasp it, he looked at me as helpless as a baby. * But, Senor, they no pay.' Think of that ! And he could be the whole thing, oh ! so easy. They haven't any organization or enterprise." Keating had been drinking steadily during the meal, and the unfortunate state of affairs in the town now seemed doubly unfortunate. " With your experience and energy you should organ ize the town, Mr. Keating. It is a virgin field for your genius," suggested Thayer. " It wouldn't pay me to do it ; they are a cheap lot of skates, Thayer; they're not worth it. Still, I would do it, just for the occupation, only I don't seem to have the energy any more. I don't know what it is, but I'm afraid I'm going to pieces. It isn't what I drink, for I could always hold my share. It must be the climate." " You do not adapt yourself to the climate," said Thayer. " Yes I do," maintained Keating. " I wear these clothes, and I sleep on one of those beds with nothing between me and the springs but a half-inch matress, and with a white spread over me. My back's broken by it. The climate does not adapt itself to me, that's what's the matter. Here it is January," he went on with ex treme disgust, " and we are in our summer togs. What 170 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY a climate ! Up home it is real winter ; white, cold weath er! With me in my furs, up the road I'd go flying in my cutter. The first one to the road-house gets the magnum! Many a time Joe Keating got it, and then there were other bottles to follow, and then the hot punch. Say, you can drink up there and never feel it, but here " Keating poured down a glass of wine " here it gets you. I don't often talk like this, but to-night I've got to talk. By God ! Thayer, I know you. I know you'd like to have it in for me, but I've got to talk the good old American tongue to some one. I haven't used six words of it to any one who could understand me since I came to this Godforsaken hole." Thayer rose from the table. " Keating, I do under stand you. You're a very sick man. Anyone would be in your place. You've got nostalgia. It's a bad complaint, and there is a worse outlook for you. You're drinking too much for this hot climate. I advise you to pull up." Keating shook his head. " There's nothing else to do but drink, and talk to the bird, and swear at Bolliver. I must drink ! " Thayer inclined his head politely. " Stevens and I are now going aboard our yacht for the night. We shall see you some time to-morrow, I hope." Keating looked at them closely for a moment, and then said : " I know I'm drunk, Thayer, but I know what I'm about. I know what you are about, too! I know what you are here for, all right. Came down to see your old friend Keating, didn't you? I knew what the law was before I picked out this place; though I did not know how infernally lonesome it was going to be. Just the same I tell you, Thayer, and I tell you too, Stevens God bless you, Stevens that I'm glad to FRANCIS THAYER'S QUEST 171 see you. I'd be glad to see the devil if I could talk to him, and I'm just as glad to see you. I welcome you here, just as I would welcome anyone else. Why, I take up with a couple of coons. I'd take them in with open arms if they could talk white man's language. You fellows stay just as long as you want to the longer the better. You shall dine here every night at my ex pense. I can afford to entertain you right, and when you get ready to go home, you go; but you go without me. I tell you one thing, and I tell it to you now at the start : He may stay here until he rots, he may drink him self to death here, but Joe Keating doesn't go back on his friends." " Don't you suppose I knew what the law was, too? " replied Thayer with a quiet smile. " Good night." " Good night to you," answered Keating with a slight laugh. As they turned away they heard his voice to the waiter: " Uno cocktaile as a night cap," and then they passed out through the low-studded room. Thayer threw some gold pieces down before the hostess behind the counter. " Remember, I have paid for everything to-night; do not charge it to him," he said, with a motion of the head. " I will remember," she replied with a smile. " The American lords have, I hope, dined well." " Marvellously well," assented Thayer. The two men walked off towards the pier; Stevens with his right hand deep in his pocket fingered a pair of handcuffs lovingly. " So easy," he whispered to him self. Thayer, with his coat thrown back to the evening breeze, whistled an air from a light opera. Once he looked back and in the moonlight which shone very white on the plaza, he saw the silhouette of Keating, shaking a fist at the statue of Bolivar. CHAPTER XX ON BOARD THE SEA FOAM. Every evening at the same hour the agreeable Mr. Thayer, the taciturn Mr. Stevens, and the homesick and rather bibulous Mr. Keating dined together at the Hotel d'Inglaterra. Their fair hostess had deepened the color of her cheek, and every evening dressed herself in her very best, with a great deal of lace about her neck and shoulders. Al though she was a little forgetful as to the extreme tips of her shapely fingers, she adorned her hands with all the rings she possessed. She frequently left a white sprink ling of powder across the bridge of her nose, and she had a coral-lipped smile for the Senor Thayer on every occasion. Although she liked Thayer the better, she had another smile for Senor Keating also, for he was a fine gentleman, and oh! so free with his gold! She knew that she was good looking, and felt that she was a lady. Towards the end of the dinner hour Keating, warmed by wine, would regularly uncork the vials of his home sickness and discontent. " I'm an active, full-blooded man, and it drives me wild to see the way they do things down here, yet when I take hold of anything I soon get tired, and find myself giving it up just as they do. I thought of starting a little game myself, just for excitement. I have never done that sort of thing at home. When I was a young man I once wrote sheets for a man at the track, that's 172 ON BOARD THE SEA FOAM 173 all. So I opened up here. Everybody seemed to be afraid of me ; they wouldn't come in and play, though I had a palace compared to the other, and would have given them a fair game, while the other is crooked. But somehow they were leery of me. The Alcalde did risk a few dollars, out of friendship, and one or two of the girls came in, but I wouldn't take their money. I had to close up. Nothing doing. I'm getting to be a piece of dry rot. I'll lose all my strength of character if this keeps up." One evening, the last of several spent in this kind of entertainment, Thayer got up from the table a little earlier than usual. " We are going to sail the first thing in the morning, Keating, so we shall have to say goodbye to-night." A shade of disappointment fell over Keating's face; he had begun to like Thayer. " I thought that you were going to stay a long time," he remarked lightly. " We are going to take a little run down the coast." " Can't stand it here any longer, eh ? " laughed Keat ing. " Well, I knew how it would be. I am going, my self, after the receipt of my next remittance." " Are you ? " remarked Thayer lightly. " Yes, I need a change ; but I shall choose a place where there is no treaty ; you know, Thayer," and Keat ing laughed again. " It will be the same life wherever you go," replied Thayer; *' just the same dead monotony." " Perhaps I shall see you again," suggested Keating. " Possibly." There was a slight pause, then Thayer asked: " Why not come with us for a week? " " Thayer," remarked Keating, " I'm sober to-night, but anyway you could not take me in. You are a good 174 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY fellow, Thayer, and I've enjoyed your society. I don't care what your game is. I like you as long as you don't fool me, and I don't mean you shall. If I go out in that yacht of yours, and you get out in blue water, do you think that I don't know where you will head for? The water outside is blue, and the water of the bay is green. I may be blue, and homesick as an old tom-cat for his alley, but I'm not green enough to take a sail in your toy boat. Goodbye, Thayer, and good luck." " Wouldn't you like to go back ? " asked Stevens at his elbow, his fingers working in his pocket. Keating's eyes flashed. " Would I ? I'd give that to go back to-morrow," and he stretched out his right hand. " But not with you, Stevens," he added with a laugh. Thayer put in a word with a quiet smile. " I will take you down the coast as far as you like, Keating. I'll land you anywhere you wish, or I'll bring you back here.", Keating looked at him in silence, studying him care- fully. " I'll bring you back here in a week or ten days, just as you say. You had better join us, Keating; the change will not hurt you." " Thayer," said Keating slowly, " I've been up against a good many men in my life, and I'll trust you. I'll go with you. What time do you sail? " " Early ; better come aboard to-night. We'll put you up cosily." " All right, old man, I will. Wait until I pack my case." The Sea Foam was a pleasant habitation in smooth water, and they were favored by the weather. They stopped in at several ports, but after a day on shore ON BOARD THE SEA FOAM 175 Keating would tire of it, and be glad to get back on board. " Give me motion," he exclaimed. " The Sea Foam is good enough for me." He always declared that he had the trip of his life on the little vessel, and that Thayer was a gentleman. It was two weeks before they got back to the port of departure and ran in through the narrow mouth of the bay. It was towards the close of the afternoon ; the sky was dark ; on the horizon sharp flashes of lightning played intermittently, while a low grumbling far off among a bank of black clouds forewarned the coming of a storm. The Sea Foam was anchored safely under the guns of the decrepit fort, while the three men sat in the wicker chairs on deck, and watched the rising of the tempest. The air, sultry and oppressive, weighed so heavily upon them that all three were silent. Finally Keating tossed a half-consumed cigar into the sea, and looked mourn fully in the direction of the statue of Bolivar which, the size of a toy soldier, was just visible on the distant plaza. " I can understand your anxiety to visit your old friend again. I will send you in as soon as the rain passes," said Thayer. " Thank you," replied Keating. After a few minutes' silence he turned to his host. " Thayer, you're a gentle man. It takes one gentleman to know how to treat an other." " Thank you, Keating," replied Thayer. " You are going away to-morrow," Keating contin ued. Thayer nodded. " You're going away to-morrow, and before you go I want to ask you, now, between gentlemen, what's your game?" 176 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Thayer was thoughtful for a moment while he looked at Keating, and there was the look in his eye which al ways puzzled Keating. " I will tell you," said Thayer frankly ; " but here is the squall ; let us get under cover." They retreated to the handsomely furnished little cabin, while Stevens went for'ard among the men. " I will tell you my game, Keating," repeated Thayer. " I am glad to have you ask it, for I really want you to know what it is. The other day I took a run up to the capital on a little matter of business, and now I'm going back to the United States on the same business. I'm going to leave Stevens here with you until I get back, unless you want to go back with us." " Not on your life ! " said Keating with perfect good nature. " If you should go back now, you will get, perhaps, two or three years, and then you can come out with a clean slate, and you can keep it clean if you wish. You stay here and you will rot. You will go to pieces like a ship that's beached on the sand." Keating shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing. " And what is your life here ? You had far better kill yourself with drink sooner than later. You are ex iled for life. You can never get back unless you are brought back, extradited under some treaty ; and there will be such a treaty, Keating, as sure as you are sitting there. Some day, before long, we will have such a treaty with all these countries, and then there will be no haven for men who, like you, have been guilty " Thayer paused for a moment " guilty of these little indiscretions." " Well, you haven't got your treaty yet, and until you do I'm not going to worry," replied Keating easily. ON BOARD THE SEA FOAM 177 " I'll stay here, or I'll go somewhere else, but I'll take care to be safe." " I will follow you wherever you go," replied Thayer. " Some day you will wake up and find that you can be extradited, and then you will have the whole thing be fore you, when 3^ou might have had it behind you ; that is what I want to impress upon your mind." " It will cost you a lot of money," remarked Keating. " I've got the money," said Thayer. " It will take a lot of your time." " I'll give the time." Keating looked at him strangely. " Do you get any pleasure in doing this, in staying down here in this dead place, when you might be at home having a good time? " " No, I dislike it ; I tell you frankly, I hate it." Keating smiled. " But you may be absolutely sure, Keating, that I shall do it." " But I don't understand," cried Keating. " Why should you have it in for me so hard ? " " I have not ' got it in for you.' " " Yes, you have, you must have. You swear you will keep after me until you get me, if it takes years. It will be as hard on you as it is on me." " No, it won't, for I shall not go to pieces under it." " Why not ? You will have to eat the same kind of food. You will have to drink the same kind of booze. I'm stronger than you. I guess you will go to pieces down here before I do." " Very well," said Thayer ; " wait and see." Keating got up, and walked up and down the soft carpet of the little cabin. " Tell me what it is, for I can't follow you. I know you're square, and that you play fair. You say you will hound me to the end, and 178 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY I know you're no quitter. I ought to hate you, but I don't; damn it, I can't help liking you. Still, you've got something hidden; tell me on the dead level, now, what is there in it for you ? " Thayer lit a fragrant little cigar and, blowing out the smoke, said carelessly : " You would not understand, Keating." Keating turned on him quickly. " How do you know I would not understand. Why don't you try and see ? " After a short pause, during which Thayer smoked placidly, Keating went on : " You despise me in your heart, I can see that. You treat me like a gentleman, but you really feel that you are a damned sight better that I am. You're a college man. You've got culture. You've always had money. I just had a public school education, but it wasn't so bad. I started out in life young, but that wasn't so bad either. I can understand things when they are told to me in English, and, Thayer, don't you tell me I can't, unless you are willing to prove it." Keating sat down again in a comfortable chair. His face was more flushed than if he had been drinking. He stretched out his legs nonchalantly, and laughed a little at his betrayal of feeling. " I will tell you," said Thayer quietly. " My father left me a fortune, as you say. He got it honestly. He did not cheat. He did not bribe. He played the game squarely, and it is because he did that I like a square game. Times have changed somewhat." " We're all grafters now," said Keating with cheerful frankness. " No, we are not, Keating. There are men whom you can't buy. There are men in public as well as in private ON BOARD THE SEA FOAM 179 life who are above reproach. You see, Keating, you have associated only with one kind. You have run with the grafters." " And I've done well," said Keating with a smile. " Yes, you've done well ; but you will admit that you have done a little too well. Now, perhaps, you under stand that if some of us ' have it in for you,' it is not because it is merely you, but because Keating is one of many, and if we get him we may get at many more behind him, and if we stamp this out of him, we may stamp it out of many who otherwise might be such as he." " I understand you now," said Keating. " You are a fighter, and I like a fighter. You fight fair, but though you don't believe me, I play fair too, in my way. You see, you play for the love of the game, but I don't waste any time on that sort of a deal. There's got to be something in it for me, Thayer, and perhaps," he added significantly, " it might have been the same with you if you had not had your silver spoon at the start." Thayer was again silent for a moment, then he re sumed. " Keating, there was once a man named Wash ington " " * First in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen.' They taught us about him in the public schools. He was a little too much of a silk-stocking to suit me," said Keating. " Yes, he was an aristocrat," admitted Thayer, " but he did a few things for all that. As a young man he made a journey on foot through a wilderness full of hos tile Indians. It was a pretty hard trip ; there were not many other men who could have done it, but he went right through, though he was a silk-stocking. You see, he did not mind if the silk got torn. 180 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " He was at Valley Forge during a long, hard winter, when he might have been somewhere else where it was more comfortable. It was a pretty rough time, and his men were perishing for want of food and clothing, and the burden of it rather fell on him. He did not say much in the way of complaint, and he won out. Again, he crossed the Delaware at just the right time, where many another man would have been behind time, and he won out there. He gave the best that was in him, all his life, for this country, your country, Keating, and mine, and he never asked if it would pay him. Congress had a medal made for him, and it was presented to him. It was an historic coin historic as being the only piece of gold he ever received from his country for his services. " There was another man Robert Morris who gave his own fortune to support his country in the hour of its financial need. There were Patrick Henry, and James Otis, and John Hancock, and Alexander Hamil ton, and a whole line throughout our history, down to Abraham Lincoln, and to men of our own day, who have given themselves for love of their country. Remember, it is your country, and mine. They gave themselves for the form of government which they believed in, and held as sacred. They did not give themselves because it paid. It is that they may not have given their services in vain they never could have lived in vain that some of us many of us are striving to-day. It is because we cannot stand idly by and see the Republic which these men labored to build up ; bartered, sold, degraded and exploited for pay. It is because I believe that you are the cloak behind which some greater enemy of the Republic is hiding that it pays me to give my time, as I am giving it, and to spend my money, as I shall spend ON BOARD THE SEA FOAM 181 it, and I will follow you, Keating, until I bring you back." Thayer ended as he had begun, with neither bitterness nor passion, and both men sat in silence, occupied with their own thoughts. The tropical rain had ceased, and the little cabin, having grown stuffy with cigar smoke, both, as if by mutual consent, got up and went out on the deck. A rich crimson and gold sunset lit up the bay, throwing its reflection across the sky until it glowed faintly in the East. Thayer stood by the rail, wrapt in the exquisite and soothing beauty of the scene, while Keating walked to the bow and looked over towards the town, with its dirty adobe houses and its few pretentious ones of stucco. There was the Hotel d'Inglaterra, and the thought of returning to it made him almost sick. Then his mind pictured the old haunts at home. He saw the brilliantly lighted streets, the familiar resorts where he was always sure of a cordial welcome, the comfortable back-room at the Rushmore, and he thought also of Mrs. Keating. Though he had never, to any great extent, practiced the domestic virtues, being a man who could easily adjust himself to a separation from his own fireside ; the utter desolation of his present position, and the more terrifying outlook for the future sweeping full over him, a strange lump rose in his throat. He turned and looked at the man who had caused him a pang he had never known before. Thayer, unconscious of this newly aroused feel ing, was looking across the bay, touched with a slight melancholy which his isolation and the beauty of the night engendered. Keating watched him for a long time without moving, something in his own nature stirring in answer to the nature of the other. When the light had faded from the sky, and it had 182 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY grown so dark that they could not distinctly see each other's faces, Keating came and stood at Thayer's elbow. The latter looked up with a start. " I'll go with you," said Keating hoarsely. " Start as soon as you please; the sooner the better." " Do you mean that ? " asked Thayer. " Yes, by God, I've got to go ! I only ask one thing of you, Thayer. They will all think that you worked some game to catch me ; that you ' doped ' me, or some thing like that, and got me out to sea. Let 'em think it, Don't let 'em know I weakened," and, like one ashamed, he glided away to his stateroom. Thayer gave a few directions to the captain of his yacht and then went to his own room, and by daybreak the Sea Foam was headed North. CHAPTER XXI KEATING COMES BACK The wave of excitement over the frailty of the Alder men gradually died away, and no sooner had it ceased than again hydra-headed " Graft " raised itself from the marshes of corruption. The Respectable Citizen shrugged his shoulders and said : " Our District Attorney has found himself con fronted with a task too great for his strength ; the twelve labors in one would be easy in comparison." Therefore the Respectable Citizen made up his mind that the affair, like many other sporadic revivals of civic virtue, had blown over, and, being absorbed in his own business, he forgot it entirely. Richard Haverland had much to occupy his mind ; the work of the office claimed many hours out of the twenty- four, and in his home the wail of an infant announced that a third generation of Haverland had set his tiny foot upon the globe where the first generation held such titanic sway. " Shure, an* he's a foine bye ! " cried Nora Flynn, taking him from the arms of the nurse with that air of ownership which she had shown from the first day she entered the house. " There's no foiner bye in this land. If the ould man Heviland sets his eye on this wan, he'll be after makin' a rich lad ov him ! " It was from Richard's lips that Samuel Haverland first heard that he had a grandson. 183 184 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Richard had not seen his father since the bribery cases had come to light, and it was during the interlude, while the convicted Aldermen were serving the first days of their sentences, and while Keating was sojourning in the tropics, that a chance meeting took place between father and son. After the first stiff greeting, old Samuel tried to speak in his lighter vein. " Aren't you tired of public life ? It would seem to me a most unprofitable way of spending one's energies." " Even if I were tired I should have to complete my term of office, you know," replied Richard. " And you have still considerable time ahead of you," commented old Samuel thoughtfully. He had followed every detail of his son's career, and no one knew better than he what the District Attorney was doing. " Richard, you have made an excellent record. It would seem to me that you have a fine opportunity to stop now before you go too far," he said in his dry tone. " I must go on," replied Richard quietly. " I must go on, no matter where the path leads, no matter what is at the end." There was a touch of sadness in his voice, but his mouth was stern and his eyes flashed keenly. During the pause which followed each looked into the the other's face as if he read his thoughts, but neither dropped his eyes. Richard broke the silence. " Constance has a baby. Did you know it ? " " What is it, a girl? " asked old Haverland. " No, a boy." Old Samuel's eyes shone, but he only said : " I will come out and see him some day, when your wife is away." KEATING COMES BACK 185 " Are you afraid of Constance ? " Richard laughed at the idea. " I prefer not to have the mother fluttering around when I come to see my grandson," replied old Samuel. There was a moment's pause. Richard turned to go. " I won't take any more of your time, father." " She is an odd little thing, your wife, Richard. How do you get on with her ? " asked the old man suddenly, detaining him. " Very well indeed," replied the younger man, with a quiet smile. " She returned me the check which I sent her on your wedding day." " I never knew you sent one," said Richard. " I have never spoken of it ; has not she? " " Never." " She sent it back with an odd, feminine, impulsive letter." Richard looked at his father with a peculiar expression in his own eyes, but said nothing. " You know I stand ready to provide for you both liberally, at any time. You have only to come back and follow the line which I have marked out for you. I think none the less of you for holding out as you have done, but you might as well yield now as later." Richard was silent. His father reverted to the previous subject. " Yet I was surprised to have her, a woman, send back that check. It was not a small one either ; when I do a thing of that sort, you know, I am not niggardly." " I know you were always too generous with me, but you need not worry about me. I am getting along all right financially. We have quite enough." The gentler light, which few ever saw in Samuel Hav- 186 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY erlandV eyes, dwelt there for a moment after his son had left him. " A boy a fine boy," he murmured. " He is my grandson, mine! " By the time the third generation of Haverland had reached his sixth month he had developed what might be called a grasping nature. For. one of his very tender age he took an astonishingly firm hold of things. On the very half-yearly anniversary of his birth he grasped the tail of the cat as she roved by, and held on with such tenacity that -she turned upon him with a sharp yowl, and scratched him badly on his chubby arm. It was on the evening of this day that the newspapers came out with the announcement: " KEATING COMES BACK." There was no relation between these two events. They were merely events contemporaneous in the Haverland life. The former caused a lusty uproar in the house, and was related with dramatic effect to the head of the house upon his return at night. The latter caused a whirlwind of excitement in the city. The would-be boodlers, whose greedy eyes had been fastened on other rich strikes, quickly drew back their heads like so many mud-turtles in the ooze. The District Attorney was once more in the lime-light of the public stage. The Respectable Citizen woke up to the fact that the real play was about to begin. Francis Thayer, bronzed with a six months' journey in foreign lands was back in the city with renewed health, and Joseph Keating, who had lost his jaunty air, was sequestered for safekeeping in the local jail. " We will try Mr. Keating as originally planned," said the District Attorney. On the morning that this announcement appeared in KEATING COMES BACK 187 the newspapers Colonel Jake Homer dropped into the District Attorney's office. The colonel had not called for a long time. Shortly after election he had asked for a few small plums in the way of the minor appoint ments of a janitor and a messenger, and got them. When he tried to take a hand in the choosing of Haver- land's assistants his suggestions were not only received coldly, but were ignored in every instance. The colonel had gone off sadly out of countenance. He did not splutter threats of vengeance, but said he would wait and see. Now he reappeared like the radiant sun, particularly gorgeous in his dress, and smooth of tongue. " Ah, Mr. District Attorney," he exclaimed airily, " busy as ever, I see." " We manage to keep the grass from growing on the court-house steps," replied the District Attorney, upon whose steady nerves the colonel was one of the few who grated. " I suppose that you are deep in these boodle cases," remarked Horner, taking a chair. " I am," was the admission. " Haverland, between old friends now, don't you think that the public and you should be satisfied with the triumph justice has had in the conviction of Maier and Sullivan ? " asked the colonel. " Of course, I only ask this question as an old friend who stood by you when you were running for office. You need not answer it unless you wish to." " Colonel Horner, I will answer you, although your questions seem to me to require small answer. The bribe- giver has generally gotten off easily, leaving the bribe taker to bear the brunt of the punishment. Now I 188 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY intend to try Keating, and see if I cannot find out who is behind him." The colonel cleared his throat. " Mr. Haverland, I am an older man than you " " Colonel Homer, you are not the first man who has told me that since I came into office. I presume you have some advice to offer me. Go ahead, I have a few min utes to listen." Colonel Homer laughed. " Well, it was the prelude to a little advice, and I am going to give it to you frankly because I have always liked you, and taken an interest in you. It is this : You've sent the ' Dutch man ' up. You've made an example of him. Sullivan, too, has been punished. Now let the matter drop." " I have spent a good deal of time in working up Keating's case," said the District Attorney. " I did not do it for fun." " Keating has been punished enough," said the colonel sympathetically. " Why, look at the man ; he is ill. He won't live long ; it is pitiable." " From my point of view, colonel, it would be more pitiable to punish that poor little Maier and the ignorant Sullivan and allow the big criminals to go free. No, Keating shall go to prison, and those behind him shall follow, if the law can touch them. The little ' Dutch man ' will come down from j ail and make a better wit ness than some of them fondly beMeve." " Now, Haverland, I'll be frank with you, just as I have always been. Politics has gotten into this, and there's where I really come in. You see, it is this way: Thomas Cadwell is president of the United Central Trac tion Company ' " That is business, not politics," commented the Dis trict Attorney. KEATING COMES BACK 189 " Wait a moment," said the colonel earnestly. " Cad- well is a prominent man, both in business and politics.. He is a man whose reputation is above reproach. Now a little money may have been used to get that franchise. The company had to have it. If Keating, who may have been their agent, or an agent of some one interested with them if Keating, I say, was a little careless about the means employed, why it seems to me very foolish to push the matter too far, at the risk of defeating our party at the next election." " One moment, Colonel Homer, if you please," inter rupted the District Attorney. " To follow this under- standingly, may I inquire which is your party ? " " Why, didn't you know that I had resumed the lead ership of the Republican party in this city ? " " I have not followed your political fortunes quite so closely as I should." " It was in all the papers. Cadwell is going to run for the United States Senate, and I am to have my old leadership in the city again." " So you went over to them, did you ? " " Never, never ! They came over to me. They yielded every point that I demanded. We have just got every thing harmonized beautifully, and in the interest of party harmony I beg of you to go slow with this case." The District Attorney leaned back in his chair and looked closely at the colonel. " Why should the performance of my duty affect your party harmony ? " he asked. " Rumor has it persistently that Keating has talked, or is going to talk. You know how things get passed about. I heard it pretty straight that Thomas Cadwell's name had got into this mess, so I come here, entirely on 190 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY my own account, mind you, to try to straighten things out" " Why ? " interrupted the District Attorney. " Why ? Because Cadwell, who is running for the Senate, happens to be president of the Traction Com pany. That is only one of his many interests. But of course the Democrats will seize the slightest pretext to drag his name into the mire of any scandal they can get hold of." " Oh, the Democrats will do that? " said the District Attorney, apparently much enlightened. " May I ask which class of Democrats ? Will it be the * many decent Democrats ' who, you will remember, you once told me were in the city, ' Democrats one would be willing to shake by the hand,' or will it be the indecent ones? " " Mr. Haverland," said Homer stiffly, " I came here to speak seriously upon a serious matter." " Speaking seriously, Colonel Horner, in the discharge of my duty I refuse to recognize one party more than another, and I will not alter my plan of action one whit, even in the interest of harmony in the party with which you are at present affiliated." The colonel flushed slightly, but he stuck to his guns. " Mr. Haverland, I am in a position to get you the re- nomination, and I pledge you my word that you shall have it if you will only reconsider your determination." " I did not seek the nomination, Colonel Horner, and I shall make no pledges to obtain a renewal of it." " You won't get a renomination then. You will never see another term in this office," replied Horner sharply. " Then it behooves me to be all the more thorough in my work while I am in office," replied the District At torney with a smile. " Will nothing move you ? " exploded Colonel Horner, KEATING COMES BACK 191 exasperated. " Think of the effect upon the voters if CadwelPs name is dragged into this. Think of the effect it will have upon business. Why, Cadwell is one of our big men. For the sake of business interests I implore jou, Mr. Haverland, to listen to my advice." " I shall go on with this matter as I originally planned. There is nothing more to be said," was the answer. Colonel Homer turned red. " Mr. Haverland, I made you politically, yet you ignore my counsel upon every occasion. The day will come when you will regret it. This is the only term you will ever have in office. I wish you joy of it." " It is to this term that my oath of office applies, and if it be true that you made me politically then you will stand credited or discredited by my conduct of it; but I shall continue to conduct it as I see fit, even if the method is directly at variance with your views." The colonel rose abruptly. " Mr. Haverland, I came in to see you as much in your interest as in my own. I have been very frank with you. I take it for granted that everything I have said will remain in strict confi dence." Richard Haverland bowed slightly. The colonel went out as breezily as he had entered, but with his spirits ruffled and his pride humbled. CHAPTER XXII THE TWO GRANDFATHERS While momentous events were taking place in the lives of Keating, Maier and Cadwell, old Sam Haverland was pursuing the even tenor of his ways. One day, however, he deviated so abruptly from his routine as to give his faithful clerk, Walters, a sudden turn, which startled him more than a raise of salary would have done. It was in the office at midday. Mr. Haverland, after partaking of a glass of milk and a graham roll, instead of returning as usual to his work, drew a photograph from his pocket and examined it earnestly. Never in the whole course of his life had Walters tried to pry into the secrets of his patron. Whatever small crumbs of information, in the way of tips on the market, had been thrown to him, he had picked up thankfully and profited by to the utmost of his ability. All confidences given him had been guarded loyally, but at this moment his curiosity was aroused to the burning point. He yielded to temptation, and looked over Sam uel Haverland's shoulder. With round eyes he beheld nothing more than a happy-faced baby. " Walters ! " said Mr. Haverland quickly. " Yes yes, sir," stammered the faithful one, turning uncomfortably red. " I shall not be back to-day, Walters," and closing his desk Samuel Haverland walked to the street corner 198 THE TWO GRANDFATHERS 193 and hailed a cab. It was old Samuel's practice in all things not to allow his right hand to know what his left did, and so in this instance he preferred that his clerks should not follow his movements. It was a bright winter afternoon. Mr. Haverland was driven to the station, and, taking a suburban train, buried his nose in a newspaper, to the exclusion of the world outside. The journey was not a new one to him. Although many years had passed over his head since he last made it, he laid down his newspaper just as the train rolled up to the station, and his feet took him unhesi tatingly along the right road. He remembered every turn, recognized the maples in front of the house, and was pleased to note how much they had increased in size. If he felt any deep emotion at thus revisiting the place, his face did not show it. He smiled pleasantly to him self to see how new the building looked, and how well kept were the small grounds. As his boots crunched firmly on the gravel path he calculated to a nicety the cost of the improvements and what income would be de rived by the owner should he decide to rent the property. It was very quiet within the house. Mrs. Richard Haverland had gone to town to do some household er rands, the nurse had seized the opportunity to go up stairs and take a nap, and Nora Flynn was comfortably seated in the parlor, crooning old Irish melodies to the sleeping baby. As the bell rang Nora shifted her bur den to her left arm and opened the door quickly, chang-- ing her refrain to " An* indade it's time you were here at last." Samuel Haverland looked at Miss Flynn and Miss Flynn looked squarely back at Mr. Haverland. " What made you think I was coming at all? " he asked. 18 194 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY ** I ask yer pardon ; it was the plumber I was ex- pectin'. Are ye not the plumber? " Old Samuel entered without making any reply. There was a sparkle in Nora's eye as she asked sharp ly : " Are ye the water man ? If ye are that, the water rint's not due till Tuesday, and it's no money ye'll be gettin' onyhow till the plumber's through with his job." " I'm not the water man," replied Haverland, exam ining the girl closely. Nora was a buxom woman of about thirty-five, with a mop of rich brown hair, and the spirit of mischief in her blue eyes. " Everywan's out but meself ," she volun teered. Mr. Haverland showed no surprise at this informa tion, and continued to look about him with curiosity. " Everywan's out but meself and Master James Hart ley Haverland little Jimmie," and she hugged the sleeping infant affectionately. If old Samuel winced upon hearing the name it was only the quiver of an eyelid, and he sat down near the girl. " Are ye the gas man ? " she inquired, looking at him boldly. " If ye are, I have so many complaints I don't know which wan to give ye first." " No, I'm not the gas man." " Who aire ye, then, and what is it that ye want, calling upon me whin the missis is out ? " From long force of habit, Samuel Haverland's mind shied at a direct question. He replied by asking. " Is there no one else at home ? " " Mr. Richard Haverland is at wurk for the baby. Mrs. Haverland has gone to buy a little pair of pink socks for the baby, and I, Nora Flynn, am a-rockin' the THE TWO GRANDFATHERS 195 little darlin' to slape in me arums, so ye must be quiet, to stay here." " It would appear that the entire household revolves around that infant," remarked Haverland dryly. " And why should it not ? Isn't he a f oine bye, for six months ? Shure, and there's no f oiner kid born out side of Oireland than this little Jimmie Hartley Haver- land. His mither calls him Hartley, and his fayther always calls the kid Hartley, but I give him the name he was christened, and Jimmie's the bye fer me." She nodded and winked at Haverland in a friendly way. He ignored her, but studied the infant carefully. He felt a great longing to take this little grandson, and train him up to follow in the path which he would choose for him. Not as he had trained Richard. He could see now where he had made a mistake, but he could profit by his own mistakes, and never made the same a second time. " Yes," he admitted, nodding his head, " he is a fine baby." " Here, you hold him a minute while I go and put the soup-kettle on the stove," said Nora suddenly, putting the baby in his arms. Old Samuel held his grandson firmly. " You are not a careful nurse to surrender your charge to the first stranger," he said sternly. " I might drop it." " It's not iverywan I'd trust, but yer not the man to drop anything yer wanst got yer hands on." He gave the woman a sharp glance, but the lakes of Killarney were not clearer than her innocent-looking eyes. " I'll be back prisently, and mind yer don't let him Wake up and cry. If he wakes cross, he'll have the divil 196 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY of a temper, much like his grandfayther, I'm thinkin'." " What do you know of his grandfather? " he de manded, frowning. " Don't I see the pictures in the Sunday papers ? Shure, an' I have a frind who's a cart-tunest. I've been studyin' yer face as ye set here. Go on wid ye, Mr. Sam Heviland, it's not Nora Flynn ye can dcsave so aisy." " I have no wish to deceive anybody. Deception, my dear young woman, is a sin. I did not think it necessary to announce myself as the child's grandfather, but as you have rightly guessed, I came here to see him ; and for my own reasons I chose a time when the parents were away." " Take a good look at him while I take a look at the soup; it will do your heart good," replied Nora cheer- fully. " What if I should kidnap him? " he asked with a dry smile. " Shure, ye can kidnap the whole family and build them a palace of gold if ye like," she replied laughing, as she went into the kitchen. Old Samuel looked down into the face of the newest Haverland. It gave signs of waking, and squirmed gently in his arms. This mite was his grandson. He felt a growing desire to have it for himself. The eyes were still shut, but the tiny mouth rounded into a yawn. " It's going to wake," he called to Nora in a stage whisper which penetrated to the kitchen. " It's about time he did wake, and ask for his bottle," she replied with indifference, rattling the kitchen stove. " I'll be there prisently." The grandfather looked about him with some appre hension, laid his grandson on the sofa and covered him up carefully. The grandson awoke, but did not cry. THE TWO GRANDFATHERS 197 Instead, he stared up into the face of his grandsire with fearless eyes, and smiled. There was more human quality in the smile with which the old man answered the baby than anyone had ever seen in him. But no one was there to see, except the babe. Samuel Haverland poked down one finger tentatively. James Haverland clutched at it, and held on with sur prising firmness. The grandfather became so absorbed in this wrestling match that he failed to hear Nora come into the room until she had opened the door into the front hall. He looked over his shoulder and saw James Hartley. Only for an instant did Haverland seem the least disconcerted. He withdrew his finger, straightened up, and became his inscrutable self. " We have not met for some time, Mr. Hartley," he said blandly. Hartley's face was flushed as he replied : " We have not met since you made your threat to crush me to the wall, Mr. Haverland." " I never made any such threat," exclaimed Haver land in a tone of surprise. " You made good your threat. But for you the Hartley Company would have made no assignment. We should be enjoying a good business to-day. I was beaten by you. I acknowledge my defeat, but it rankles, Mr. Haverland. There are some things difficult to forget, and until we do forget them it is idle to preach forgive ness." " My dear Mr. Hartley, you do wrong to blame me for your short-sighted policy. I warned you that busi ness interests demanded certain concessions. You failed to grasp the situation. You have since discovered that I was right. Let us have no ill feeling about the matter." 198 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Haverland stepped forward in a conciliatory manner. Hartley looked at him sternly. " I hold you responsible," he said with suppressed passion. " Before God I shall hold you responsible for the injury you have done to me, and to mine." And to hide his feelings he turned and took up the grandchild " and to mine," he repeated with bitterness. The baby buried his tiny fists in this grandfather's gray beard, and tugged lustily, crowing with pleasure. Haverland turned pale. He came up to Hartley, and with a voice trembling with emotion said : " Put down the child." Hartley looked at him with surprise. " Give him to me," commanded Haverland. " He is my grandchild." "Yours?" cried Hartley, looking at him angrily. " No, he is mine. I've seen him almost daily since he was born. What are you doing here? You've never been here before. You have no rights here." " You should know, sir," replied Haverland calmly, " that the fact of my not being a frequent visitor here does not lessen my rights. I am that child's grandfather. I wish to have him. Give him to me." " You, of all men, should know, Mr. Haverland, that precedent is a ruling factor. You have never been here before; you are a stranger in this house; you have no rights here." " My right is greater than yours. That child is the son of my son. I am here now, and I wish to hold him. Give him to me," commanded Haverland. The two grandfathers faced each other. The baby began to screw up its face. " You, of all men, should know," continued Hartley THE TWO GRANDFATHERS 199 coolly, " that possession is nine-tenths of the law. I have the child, and I am going to keep him." " You are too rough with the baby," declared Haver- land, and he put his hand on Hartley's arm. " You cannot have him while I am here," said Hartley exasperatingly. " I will ! " exclaimed Haverland, tightening his grasp upon the other's arm. With one hand Hartley pushed him away unceremoniously. The baby was crying vig orously. Nora Flynn, who had been standing in a corner watch ing the two grandfathers with wide eyes, swooped down suddenly. " Give me the darlin'," she cried, taking the baby away from Hartley. " Bad cess to ye, fightin' over him like two barnyard roosters. Would ye tear him to bits in the struggle? If ye can't agree, go out on the sidewalk and settle yer trouble like two gintlemen. We can't afford to have the furniture broke here. Haverland regained himself instantly. He gave one look at Hartley, then turned on his heel and walked out of the house. Followed by the shrill notes of his grand son's voice lifted in lamentation, he walked away towards the station. Never in his life had he felt the bitterness of a defeat more keenly. CHAPTER XXIII CADWELL GETS IT AT LAST The United Central Traction Company was a very small item in the life of Samuel Haverland. The com pany was prospering famously under the presidency of Thomas Cadwell. Dividends were fat, and the stock was a gilt-edged investment. Mr. Haverland felt that in a human and imperfect world little more than this could be demanded, and he busied himself with a hundred other schemes like an industrious old spider, and with a conscience as comfortable as that of a prosperous old spider with his larder full of flies. Among the many things which occupied his active, restless mind were the endowment of a college in his native town and the building of a memorial chapel to his father near his summer home. He was also stirred with ambition to see his country's flag planted at the pole, and had liberally fitted out an expedition to send a dauntless explorer furthest North. He was also work ing very quietly to bring about a consolidation of the railroads of the country, with his own pet system as king pin of them all. While these varied interests filled his days, it was natural that a minor matter, already con summated so much to his satisfaction, should pass almost entirely out of mind. Mr. Thomas Cadwell was also deeply engrossed in his own affairs. Many of them touched and intertwined with those of Haverland, but there was one at least which 200 CADWELL GETS IT AT LAST 201 he hugged close to his own heart. This was the Senator- ship. He had gotten the United Central Traction Com pany running smoothly and had turned over the oper ating department to an energetic manager, Mr. Bradford Oakes, who had been in the employ of the Haverland- Cadwell interests long enough to win their esteem. Oakes was a splendid executive officer, faithful to duty, and honest in his dealings with all men. He kept the road up to a high point of efficiency and got the best results for the stockholders. Cadwell congratulated himself upon having such a man, and turned his attention to the impending election of a United States Senator. Mr. Richard Haverland was another man of wonderful energy and ceaseless activity. He had prepared his case, and Joseph Keating, lobbyist, political scavenger and dealer in legislation, was called to the bar. The day set for the trial of Joseph Keating was the same upon which the Legislature convened to fill the va cant Senatorship. Mr. Cadwell was not a timid man. He went about upon this doubly momentous day with no quaking fears as to the result of Keating's trial. Be fore Keating had forfeited his bail by running away, Cadwell had had his word with him, and the lobbyist had promised to keep his counsel whatever happened. Cad well in return had promised to provide liberally for him and his family during his absence, and to provide still more liberally for them in case of accident. This prom ise he meant to keep faithfully, and as Keating had never broken faith with him, he dismissed the trial from his mind, and turned to the matter which lay next his heart. The news which came to him from his friends at the state capital was of a nature to engross his mind. The vote was very close, with no one in the majority, and for three days there was a stubborn deadlock. For three 202 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY days also the trial of Keating, the briber, lasted, during which Cadwell had time to think of him but once, and then it was to deplore that so good a man should be sac rificed in so trifling a cause. Thomas Cadwell was not a man to sit inactive, and the wires between him and his special agents were kept hot with telegrams. The charge was made that he was using money to obtain his election. He replied with flat- footed denials, and challenges for proofs. The cry was taken up that he was an upstart, trying to break into the Senate. His friends made no answer to this. They knew where the weak spots were, and con centrated their attacks with such convincing arguments that a breach was made, the deadlock was broken, and Cadwell secured the prize. It was the goal of his ambi tion. For years he had aimed at it in vain. This time he had seen his opportunity, and, spending money with out limit, had actually captured it, to the utter disgust of everyone who understood the audacious, flagrant, de bauched manner by which he had arrived. But he had it. After three days of tension the tele gram was in his hand telling him of the honor which had been conferred upon him. He was standing in his library surrounded by friends. He read the telegram and then tossed it over to his son Charles. He tossed it carelessly, but the very carelessness of the gesture bespoke the su preme gratification of the man. Congratulations were showered upon him by the friends, who drew closer to hear the good tidings, and Charlie Cadwell voiced a pleasant and prevailing sentiment when he cried out: " Dad, you will have to take care of your friends now. I shall expect something fat." Mrs. Cadwell and Helen were radiant, as visions of Washington life danced before their eyes. CADWELL GETS IT AT LAST 203 From out of doors came the hoarse shouts of men calling an evening paper. " They have got an * extra ' out already ! " exclaimed one of the close friends. " There's enterprise for you, Cadwell." Another close friend volunteered to get a copy, and hurrying to the front door stood bareheaded while he whistled to the newsboy. Others renewed their congratulations. " A speech, Cadwell! Come, Senator, let us have your maiden ef fort!" Helen came forward and, taking a rose from her cor sage, slipped it into the lapel of her father's coat. " Now you are decorated," she said, looking up into his face gaily- " You must respond to that ! " exclaimed a friend. The tension had been so great during these last few hours that Cadwell, to allay his excitement, had been drinking more than was his custom, and what he had drunk had reported itself quickly to his excited brain. He was more than usually flushed, and his words were a little thick as they came from his lips. His eyes were brilliant with the fire of success, while his large frame trembled. " I've got it ! " he exclaimed. " You, my friends, who have stood so close to me through it all, understand what it means to me. You, who know how I have strug gled for it, fought for it; how each time when I almost had it some one else has got in ahead. I swore all the harder I'd have it, and now it is mine ! No one can take it from me ! " His voice rose to a high pitch, and the extreme exultation of the moment seemed to choke all utterance. Some one put a glass of champagne in his hand. He drained it thirstily, put the glass down on the table and 204 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY wiped his heavy moustache. When he began to speak again it was in his business-like, every-day tone. " My friends, you also know that Tom Cadwell is not an orator. I can't tickle your ears with quotations from the classics, but I think you will agree that I speak without vanity, when I say that I can do things. I can do" Thomas Cadwell stopped as short as if a rifle ball in the throat had checked him. He stood motionless, his eyes fixed upon the headline of a newspaper which a friend had brought into the room. In black type, half a foot deep he read : KEATING SAYS HE GOT IT DIRECT FROM CADWELL. The Senator-elect strode forward, and amid a painful silence took the sheet from his friend's hand. " Read it aloud, Tom," said Mrs. Cadwell, who, seated on the sofa, was the only one who had not seen it. The color going suddenly from Cadwell's full face left it gray and flabby. " It's a lie," he cried, " a damnable lie ! " "What is a lie?" asked Mrs. Cadwell, getting up quickly. " For Heaven's safe, read it aloud. Aren't you elected ? " Cadwell threw the newspaper from him. " I defy them to prove it," he declared. Helen snatched it up, and with burning cheeks read the charges against her father. " How perfectly shame less of them," she cried, tearing the sheet angrily. " No, mamma, you must not see it, it is too outrageous." Mrs. Cadwell obtained possession of the torn news paper and read it with more composure than her daugh- CADWELL GETS IT AT LAST 205 ter. " It is outrageous. Thomas, you must sue this paper for libel," she said. " I'd like to horsewhip the man who wrote it," de clared Helen, furiously. " He ought to go to jail," remarked a close friend. Cadwell had regained his self-possession. " Of course a man in my position has many enemies, but whoever instigated this shall smart for it." Looking around the room, he said firmly : " You are all friends of mine, and as friends I pray you not to talk about this matter out side. I shall be able to meet these charges, and will do so at the proper time. That is all I have to say now." His friends gave him this promise earnestly, and, pressing his hand with great warmth, they departed. Charles accompanied them to the door, leaving the newly elected Senator alone with his wife and daughter in the library. The crumpled telegram and the torn newspaper lay together on the table. Helen took up, and put down, first one and then the other, with a nervous movement of the fingers. Going up to her father, she threw her arms around his neck. " Father, I'm so sorry for you. How you must suffer." " I am used to calumny," he said, feeling that he had been outrageously betrayed. " Who is this Keating ? " she asked, turning again to the paper. " Here is his picture : ' Joseph Keating, convicted of bribery.' Why, here is your*s, too. How perfectly shocking! How dare they put your picture beside his, just as if you were accomplices! Why, he looks like the man who used to come here to see you sometimes in the evening ! " " What do you know about the man who used to come and see me evenings ? " asked her father quickly. 206 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " I remember one night last winter the bell rang and I was expecting somebody else, and I went to the door. It was a man with a small dark moustache and sharp eyes who asked for you. He was very quiet and very polite. That is all I know, but I remembered him dis tinctly. This man looks like him. What does it all mean, father? I want to know!" Cadwell was silent, thinking. Mrs. Cadwell drew her arm through her daughter's. " Come to bed, my dear, your father is tired out." " Wait a minute," said Cadwell quickly. " My daugh ter, every man in public life seems to be the legitimate target for slander. I've been in the fight for a good many years. I'm no white-robed angel, but I'm no worse than other men, though I come in for more than my share of abuse. Luckily my shoulders are broad, and can carry it. Now don't you try to understand things too much. It will only confuse your pretty head, and I could not make you understand if I should start in and explain for a week. You go to bed and get a good sleep, so that you can enjoy life. Have a good time! That is what girls of your age are for." She clung to him closely for a moment. " Good night, father dear," she whispered. He held her off at arm's length and looked at her. He had always thought of her as a young girl, and now he suddenly became aware that she was a woman. He was startled at the maturity of her beauty. She was like the rose that, blossoming over night, retains the fresh ness and fragrance of the bud, but has become a rose. " You will make a hit in Washington, Nell. I'll bet you will be the belle ! " he exclaimed, trying to appear himself. " Good night, dear," she repeated, and then went CADWELL GETS IT AT LAST 207 slowly upstairs. She waved her hand to him over the banisters as she ascended. " Good night, Senator ! " she called out with forced gaiety. In the gesture, in the accent, there was confidence and love that went to his heart. When the women had gone upstairs, Charles Cadwell entered the room. " I have just telephoned for your lawyer," he said. " Luckily I caught him before he had gone to bed ; you will want to talk with him before you sleep to-night." " Thank you, Charlie, you did right. I shall want to see Mr. Brower." There was a few moment's silence, father and son both busy with their thoughts. " This comes at a very inopportune time," said Cad- well suddenly. " Yes," assented Charles, " it does." " I cannot understand what possessed Keating," the father continued. " I trusted that man, Charlie, and I've been good to him, mighty good. Why he should go back on me I cannot understand." " I'll tell you why ! " exclaimed his son. " Richard Haverland has made up his mind to make his reputation out of this business, that is all he cares for. He cares nothing for money. He might have had all he wanted and he threw it over for a woman, or some such nonsense. He cares nothing for the pleasures of life; they say he just grinds away at his work like a cart-horse. He cares for nothing in the world but reputation. Naturally he is consumed with vanity, and will stop at nothing that will gratify it." " That docs not explain Keating's weak-kneed, white- livered conduct," commented Cadwell. " Yes it does," replied the son. " Richard Haver- 208 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY land has the persistence, the tenacity, the domineering, overmastering power of his father. He has gotten Keating into a corner and bully-ragged some kind of a confession out of him. Perhaps in return he has prom ised to have his sentence ameliorated a little." " Keating will be the loser in the end, by Jove ! " said Cadwell emphatically. " It is the present moment which is annoying to you," said Charles. " Of course you will come out all right, but you will have to look for a fight. The District At torney is a man to take prompt action; I am surprised that nothing has happened this evening." Thomas Cadwell set his lips. " I have always been careful not to come any closer to Keating than I could possibly help. My instructions to him have always been of a general character. He knew exactly what was wanted and how to go about it." " The unsupported testimony of a man like Keating should not have much weight if the matter got before a jury," said Charles thoughtfully. " It must not come before a jury," said his father looking very uncomfortable. " The stigma sticks no matter how one comes out." He flicked some cigar ash from the lapel of his coat, and his eye rested on the flower in his button-hole. " It must not come to that, Charlie," he repeated earnestly, his thoughts flying to his daughter upstairs. The memory lingered of the loving pressure of her arms about his neck, and he felt a sudden unworthiness of her. " Damn Keating ! " he said bitterly, " Damn those venal little Aldermen." " I should think that old man Haverland would have some interest in restraining his son," remarked Charles. " So he has, as much interest as anybody, only the old CADWELL GETS IT AT LAST 209 badger has kept out of politics and has never let any thing touch him." " I should think that you who stand so close to Hav- erland, could get him to do something towards checking this erratic son." " He has tried, but you must know that if there is one man in the world old Haverland cannot control, it is his own son." " What we must try to do is to get at Richard Hav- erland's reputation," said Charles. " Yes, but how. He is a model of purity, civic and domestic." " So much the better, if he is a ' holier-than-thou ' fellow he will be all the more jealous of his reputation. What we must do is to get hold of something in his private life, and use it." " Yes, but we can't get hold of anything." " Oh, we may," replied his son easily. " Any little thing may serve if it is magnified enough. Now I'll bet" " Listen ! " exclaimed his father suddenly interrupting him. " It's the electric bell of the front door," said Charles. " It may be the " began his father nervously. " It must be Brower. I told him to come around as soon as he could. I will go to the door myself. All the servants are in bed." Before he left the room, Charles came up to his father and put his hand on his shoulder. " You're not quite yourself to-night." " I know it. I feel strangely different to-night. The excitement of my election, and, the other thing have unnerved me a little." " Well, brace up ! " 14 210 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " Charlie," replied his father with regained firmness, " did you ever know me to weaken when the fight was on?" " I never have." " Well, I'm not going to begin with this one." CHAPTER XXIV THE WRONG KIND OF TOBACCO No one would have detected in the carefully shaven, carefully dressed Mr. Cadwell, who walked briskly into his office at the usual morning hour, the agitated man of the night before. With his easy manner he nodded " Good morning " to his stylish secretary, and took up his mail. On top of the letters was a yellow pile of telegrams congratu lating him upon his election to the senate. At another time they would have been the most palatable reading, but he merely glanced at them, turned them over to his secretary with: " See that the proper acknowledgment is sent to each of these, Miss Swift." Miss Swift, who had read the morning papers, ad mired the composure with which he lit his cigar, and settled himself in his chair for work. On the front page of a leading newspaper he could see himself in the dress of a market-woman with basket on arm, buying Alder men as bunches of beets. Cadwell surveyed this picture coolly enough, smoking slowly, but he winced inwardly. Although he looked for a blow at any time rather than a soft word, he was frankly astonished at the enemies suddenly unmasked. He had always made a special point of treating all newspaper-men with that pretentious cordiality which came so easily, and it hurt him to have the press drive its shafts at him. 211 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY He tossed the paper over to his secretary. " Miss Swift, tell our advertising man to see that all our ad vertising is at once withdrawn from this paper. Do that the first thing. One moment, Miss Swift," he called out, as the young woman started on the errand , " that is, unless he can arrange to have the owners make a retrac tion and an apology. And Miss Swift, tell him to take one of our lawyers with him, and threaten suit for one hundred thousand dollars." Miss Swift's silk skirts swept through the door, and Cadwell, left alone for a moment, pulled at his heavy moustache in meditation. He had, however, little time to devote to thought, for the next minute Bradford Oakes, the manager of the Traction Company, came in to discuss the matter of additional equipment, which ever- increasing business made necessary. Oakes was always keenly intent upon the work in hand, and straightway he had his chief deeply immersed in a roll of blue prints. The minds of the two men were concentrated upon this work when they were interrupted by a caller. This man was not unexpected. Cadwell had been preparing him self for his arrival. " Will you wait a few minutes," he said with a wave of the hand towards a chair, " I want my lawyer. Send for Mr. Browcr," he called out to his clerk. " We won't detain you long," he explained to the new comer; and turned once more to the specifications and Mr. Oakes. With Mr. Brower came Charles Cadwell, wearing a bright red tie. Outwardly he persisted in treating the whole affair as a joke. " So they are going to put the Senator in jail," he said winking at Brower. " I've ordered a carriage to help him along." The four men went off in the carriage, leaving Mr. Oakes to roll up the blue prints, and hurry away to THE WRONG KIND OF TOBACCO 213 place an order for the new cars ; and Miss Swift to send off the appropriate answers to the telegrams of con gratulations. "What is your name?" asked Cadwell of the cool- mannered gentleman, when they were all in the carriage. " Stevens," replied the man, taking out a package of uninviting looking chewing-tobacco which bore the title : " Honest John." They drove to the police-court, the two Cadwells and the lawyer chatting easily together, while their silent companion spat at regular intervals through the open window. In the police-court Brower had everything in readiness, bondsmen were immediately forthcoming, and in a few minutes the senator-elect walked out of court, talking and laughing with his lawyer and with his son, as lightly as if nothing had happened. " Don't you worry," said Charles to his father con solingly, " you have as good a chance of dying in a monastery as going to prison on that charge." " I'm not afraid of what they can prove," said Cad- well. " It is springing it at just this time which hurts me. It gives my enemies a handle which they are not slow to grasp. One newspaper, this morning, actually cast aspersions upon the methods employed in my elec tion to the senate, and went so far as to recommend an investigation in that quarter." " This investigation habit is a thing to be discour aged," said Charles, knitting his brows. " It takes up a great deal of time which our legislative bodies might employ to much greater advantage." " You can never tell where a man like our District At torney is going to stop when he once begins to smell blood," said Brower, as the three men walked down the street. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY No one, not even Richard Haverland himself, could tell where the District Attorney was going to stop. With Maier, Sullivan and Keating in wholesome con finement, and Thomas Cadwell out on bail, the Mills of the Gods were grinding with unusual rapidity. Charles had been twisting his small moustache in thought. " A ' hold ' on a man is sometimes better than a ' pull,' " he said sententiously. " You can never get a ' hold ' on any man who bears the name of Haverland," replied his father. " I'll bet that this Richard has been as careful and circumspect as the old man himself " ; and the subsequent remarks of the forcible " Senator " Cadwell reflected upon the entire family tree. " Oh, I don't know," remarked Charles. " I have un ravelled one thread in the life of our virtuous public prosecutor, and it may lead to something interesting." " That's the second time you've hinted darkly at some thing, Charlie. What is it?" " Wait," replied his faithful son. " If it does lead to anything, you shall hear." And bidding good day to the senator-elect and his eminent legal adviser, Charles Cadwell walked jauntily away, to take a path which he frequented in his hours of dalliance. The way led to the abode of a lady, Mrs. Cherida Delafield. He had been attentive to her since the memorable night of Mrs. Quintin-Tailer's fete. At first she had laughed at his presumption and affected to treat him as a stupid boy. But his dullness was of the persistent, self -cen tered sort, and his skin was too thick to mind rebuffs, so he continued his clumsy wooing. He knew only one road, that of material offerings, and he bombarded the fortress with rich gifts. Nature not having constructed this fortress of her strongest materials, it must not be THE WRONG KIND OF TOBACCO 215 too severely condemned for yielding, as it finally did after a period during which the light of young Cad- well's presence and his automobile, had been diplo matically withdrawn. When they returned, Cherida ac cepted what seemed to her to be the inevitable ; rode in her own automobile, and enjoyed those other luxuries of life which were her necessities. During the past two or three years there had been a slight change in Cherida Delafield's appearance. She had lost a little of that exquisite coloring and soft tex ture of her skin; the once delicately drawn lines of her chin had become a little obscured by an ounce or two of superfluous flesh. Long association with Charles Cadwell had somewhat coarsened her. She was still a young woman, and still an attractive woman so very attractive that few men would have discovered that she was less beautiful, and only the more discerning eye of woman could see that Cherida had " gone off " a little in her looks. The tie of friendship which had bound Cherida and Mildred Haverland for so many years had been broken for some time. It had snapped suddenly. The exact reason was never given, but Cherida, dropping from the circle of her old friends, had formed newer friendships elsewhere. She lived thus, quietly enough; apparently alone, except for one woman companion ; entertaining a little ; going out a good deal ; doing pretty much as she pleased within certain bounds, so that she escaped open scandal, although the tongue of gossip was often set in motion. Whenever its tales reached her ears she dis missed them with a shrug of the shoulder or a lifting of the eyebrows. Young Cadwell entered this lady's salon with his cus tomary aplomb, was announced by the maid, and sat 216 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY down upon the divan among the soft pillows. There was rather a close air of luxury about the small apart ment. The portieres were rather dark in color and rather heavy for the size of the room, and there were too many " objets d'art et de vertu." Cherida loved luxury and pretty things as a cat loves cream and a warm fire; loving these things first of all, she had them. Cherida kept Mr. Cadwell waiting some time; she never hurried for anyone. From moment to moment he glanced impatiently at the clock, drummed with his feet, fingered the leaves of an edition de luxe of one of de Maupassant's novels which lay on the table, and finally lit a cigarette which he smoked rapidly, throwing the half-consumed portion across the room at the grate. He had disposed of several cigarettes in this way before Cherida entered the room. She came through the por tieres with rather an indifferent, listless manner, dressed in an expensive house-gown, couleur de rose, her blond hair coiled high upon her head. Her cheeks had been faintly touched with a color matching her gown. Charles raised his heavy form rather clumsily from the low sofa, to greet her. " You're getting stouter every day, Charlie. You remind me of a big fish rising slowly to the surface," she said with a laugh, disdaining to flatter him. " I can always rise to the occasion, when it is worth it," he replied, without pique. She stopped suddenly with dilated nostrils, and held up a finger. " You know I only allow one kind of cigarette, and what have you been smoking? Something perfectly vile ! " " I assure you, Cherida, that they are the most ex pensive " THE WRONG KIND OF TOBACCO 217 " But not my kind. Don't argue, but open the win dow." He obeyed cheerfully. " Thank you ; now get me the atomizer ; it is on the dressing-table in the next room." He brought it to her with the same docile obedience. " Oh Cadwell, mon ami, shall I never make anything of you? Can you never learn the subtlety of odors? There is but one kind of tobacco which harmonizes with my surroundings, and you will persist in smoking any kind the moment my back is turned. Now I must deod orize you," and she sent a delicate spray over his large person. " It is not at all bad," he remarked, drawing in his breath. " I should hope not. It's a most expensive perfume. I have it made tout expres in Paris, and now I'm wasting it on you." " Tell me what it is, and I will send you a dozen bottles," he said, taking the atomizer from her and ex amining it. " No, I'll not tell you." She leaned her chin on her hand, and bent towards him with a sly smile. " I'll not tell you; you will be giving the same perfume to some other woman." Charles laughed in a self-satisfied way. " I see you know me." She shrugged her shoulders, and indolently picked up a book from the table. " However, I did not call this afternoon to indulge in badinage," he said. " I came to ask you a question." " What question ? " she inquired rather indifferently, turning the pages. 218 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " How did you get Richard Haverland to pay your bills?" She raised her head quickly to look at him, apparently moved merely by curiosity. " How did you know ? " " Oh, you are so very careless about keeping old docu ments, and leaving them about." " You have been to my escritoire." " Not for the purpose of making any discoveries. I stumbled upon an old communication from a firm of law yers, and " " And you read it." She shrugged her shoulders. " I'm not a blind man. My eyes are very keen." " Keener than your sense of honor." " Very likely," he replied with a laugh. " Come now, tell me all about it." Mrs. Delafield gave him a searching look, and said quietly : " You don't respect me, Charles Cadwell, do you?" " Oh come now, Cherida," he laughed. " Do you, or do you not? " she insisted. " Why that does not enter into my feeling for you one way or another. I don't think of it." " Whether you respect me or not makes no difference to me," she said lightly. " Why should it," he replied in the same manner. " I don't think that I respect anyone." " If," she continued slowly, looking into his face, " I told you that there was nothing more to it, you would not believe me, would you ? " " Why of course not." " Then I won't tell you anything." " He wrote you this," he said, handing her a letter. THE WRONG KIND OF TOBACCO She read it and coolly handed it back to him. " Where did you find that? " " It was lying in the drawer of the desk. I only took it to show to you." " Let me see it again," she said, putting out her hand. She read it once more, and her lip curled with a slight smile. " Why, that note is at least three years old. It is perfectly innocent, too. Only an invitation to go out in his automobile." " Yes, innocent as are many persons on their faces," he replied ; " and it is not dated." " What of that? " she asked quickly. " Cherida," he exclaimed with sudden earnestness, " suppose that the District Attorney should find out that I knew all about it." " About what? " " About his, well, I will call it by the gentler name of flirtation, with you. Suppose it should be brought home to him that the prosecution of Thomas Cadwell would mean his own ruin ? " While he was speaking Cherida listened closely, but as he ended, she burst out laughing. " I want you to believe me, if only for your own sake ; there is absolutely nothing in this matter." He looked incredulous. " You see," she went on, much amused, " this comes of judging everybody by your own standard." " I know enough to make a scandal anyway," he re plied doggedly. " This letter is, as you say, innocent on its face. It is undated at present A few words added above the signature there is room will change its face." " You would not dare do that, Charlie, would you ? " Cherida asked, looking a little frightened. 220 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " I would do anything to beat the District Attorney, and you must help me." " I should love to discredit him, if it could be done without " she began slowly " Of course, Charlie," she said quickly, " if you should fail to intimidate him, you really would not try to make any further use of your information." " It will not be necessary to go to greater length than to threaten him. I think I understand that kind of a man. To him reputation is everything. It is his vul nerable point. Oh, let me only succeed in getting at this District Attorney ! " " I should like to see him humiliated," she replied, " if you can do it in private and gain your point. But I fear" " I'll run the risk," he interrupted. " I was not thinking of the risk you ran," she said. " He took from his pocket the note which he had kept. " It can be easily done a few words cleverly forged " " Oh, Charlie, don't call it by that horrid name," cried Cherida. Young Cadwell laughed, and left her, strengthened as to his intention. He was still of the belief that she had not told him all the truth; that the letter which he held, innocent as it appeared on its face, had not ema nated from an innocent mind, and that he would be really indicating its true spirit by supplying a word or so from his own imagination. Full of these thoughts, and feeling himself in a posi tion to make terms with the District Attorney, he went straight to that gentleman's office. Richard Haverland was easily accessible to all those who were willing to wait their turn, and at the end of THE WRONG KIND OF TOBACCO a half hour, spent with internal fuming, young Mr. Cadwell was ushered in to the shabby room with its well-worn carpet, and stiff leather furniture. " I want to talk to you, privately, Mr. Haverland," he said politely. The District Attorney looked up at him, taking in every detail, from his sleek hair and double chin, to his patent leather boots and brown gaiters. He got up and closed the door, and motioned his caller to a seat upon the leather covered sofa. "What can I do for you, Mr. Cadwell?" he asked pleasantly. " Mr. Haverland, I want to know the real cause of your enmity toward my father," asked Charles quietly. " I have no enmity towards him." " Then why are you trying to drag his name in the mire?" " I have no enmity towards your father, or towards any other man," repeated the District Attorney thought fully. " Your father has been implicated in a grave crime; if his name gets in the mire it is not I who put it there. I am truly sorry that your father's name is identified with this case." Straightening himself in his chair with a sudden closing of the jaw, he added : " But it is there; and for me there is nothing to do but to proceed with the trial." His vehemence startled Charles Cadwell. Instinctively he turned his head, as if the words had been addressed, not to him, but to some unseen person beyond. " But what is your motive, Mr. Haverland. You have so little to gain. This is really a very small mat ter, and Thomas Cadwell, though his son says it is such a big man." 222 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY The District Attorney was silent. Merely looking at Charles Cadwell with his cool, impenetrable gaze. Charles, taking much credit for his own self-control, continued: "My father had just been elected to the United States Senate " he paused, there was no change in the District Attorney's manner. " All this talk is spreading through the country, and it is hurting him. I won't deny that it is hurting him. Now-a-days a man only has to be accused of being corrupt, and the multi tude set up a howl that he is guilty. The very small- ness of this particular case makes it rather worse than otherwise, for people are beginning to ridicule father." " Public suspicion is so easily aroused because the dis ease itself is so wide-spread and is so contagious, but in spite of clamor on cither side your father shall have a fair and impartial trial." " He shall not ! " said Charles angrily. " I mean you shall not try him at all. I am in a position to say to you ' Drop this case or I will let loose a scandal which will ruin you.' I know what political ambition is to you. I can blast your reputation and your career." " I don't think that you can do that, Mr. Cadwell," replied the District Attorney. " I think I can," and the young man rubbed his chin. Charles continued : " You are a deep one, Mr. Haver- land, and you may fool some of the people, but you can't fool me." " Is this blackmail, Mr. Cadwell ? " asked the District Attorney suddenly. " Call it what you please," replied Charles, " I know something which, once out, will spread all over the coun try like fire in prairie grass. How would this look in the newspapers : ' Our public prosecutor, so noted for his probity is equally famous for his generosity, etc., THE WRONG KIND OF TOBACCO 223 etc.* Then the details. You see I hold you, Mr. Dis trict Attorney." " And in order to injure me you are quite willing to sacrifice the reputation of a lady, for I presume, from your demeanor that there is a lady in the case." " I'm not responsible for anybody's reputation." "And you think it will injure my reputation?" queried Richard. " It will smash it as if it were glass. A howl will go up from one end of the country to the other. You see, Haverland, you have committed the error of always posing as a good man, so one scandal will ruin you. Some men it wouldn't harm a bit. Take me for instance, it would only serve to advertise me. People would only laugh." " And you think that in my case they will not laugh ? " inquired the District Attorney, seriously. " Yes they will, they will shout, but you will be turned down. You see you owe your support to an element which will be disappointed in you in case of any scandal. Take away their support and you will drop dead politi cally. You are keen enough to see that." After a short pause the District Attorney asked an other question : " Are you quite sure that you can prove your statements, Mr. Cadwell? Suppose I should sue the sensational newspapers for libel?" Young Cadwell gave a smile of great finesse. " I shall not give them too much But I shall give them enough. There need be only a foundation to build on, and the rest will grow." " All right, go ahead ! " said the District Attorney suddenly. For a moment young Cadwell was non-plussed. " Do 224, THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY you defy me," he exclaimed, " without even attempting to come to an understanding? " " I understand you perfectly," was the quiet re joinder. " You sing bravely enough now," cried Charles, " but wait until this matter really comes to light. I have more than one card up my sleeve." " There is where I should look for it," replied the District Attorney. " And now I have given you all the time I can spare to-day." " I will give you the night in which to think it over," said Charles Cadwell, " to think it over coolly." " Thank you very much," replied the District At torney, " I have been thinking it over while you were sitting here." Almost before he knew it, Charles found himself out side the door. Rendered furious by the indifference of the District Attorney, and inwardly vowing vengence, he hurried back to Mrs. Delafield's. He found her in her cosey salon, the picture of contentment, in the com panionship of a French novel and an Egyptian cigar ette. " Well ? " she said, lifting her marked eye-brows in dolently. He waited until the maid had left them, and then he gave full vent to his feelings. The woman, leaning back in her chair, listened to his account of his interview with the District Attorney, with a curious smile upon her lips. " Quand'meme, U etait magnifique," she murmured, speaking French, as was her habit when her emotions were stirred. " I'm not done with him yet," cried Charles, " and I want your help." THE WRONG KIND OF TOBACCO 225 He had risen to his feet and was looking down at her with his jaw set. She liked him better when he played the master. There was an animalism about the man which could sway her, although he had never possessed either her affec tion or respect, and now she summoned her forces to resist him. " He may think differently when his domestic hap piness is threatened. There's where you come in, Che- rida." She raised herself quickly in her chair. " I'll have nothing to do with it, Mr. Cadwell." " What do you mean ? " he asked angrily. " Just what I say. You can't frighten that man, Charles Cadwell. You had better give up the idea." " I shall not ! " he exclaimed. " If I can't make him weaken, I can publish something that will ruin him." Cherida started up. " But you wouldn't do that. You wouldn't sacrifice my reputation just to revenge yourself upon him. For that is all it would amount to." " Your reputation," he laughed. " I'm tired of hear ing about it. You are like every other woman who thinks she has a reputation, long after it has been torn to shreds." " But you don't understand," she cried. " It has never been done publicly." " I can't help that." " Charlie," she pleaded, " listen to me ; you must not do this. I won't let you do it! You don't understand. My reputation is something to me. I'm not a bad woman. I'm not really a bad woman." There was a pathos in her tone which would have touched almost any man but Cadwell. " I have known worse," he replied. 15 226 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Her eyes flashed at him. " You need not tell me. I believe you. You are bad, thoroughly bad, but you cannot drag me any further into this. Do what you like; publish your story. I will come out and tell the truth, and tell how you tried to force me to enter into a conspiracy against the District Attorney. The truth will carry weight. Your disclosure will fall flat under it. You may be able to make a sensation, but you won't injure him, and you will injure yourself most of all. You dare, Mr. Cadwell. You dare to do it, and you shall see." Young Cadwell whistled. " I must confess I don't understand you to-night, Cherida." " Of course you don't. You never have, for you are thoroughly bad, and worse than that, you're coarse and you're vulgar, and I hate you ! " " What are you? " he asked. " I am refined to the tips of my fingers," and she shook her white hands, " while you are hopelessly vul gar. I have had enough of you. Please leave my apartment and never enter it again." " Your apartment " he began, and stopped, actually abashed by the look she gave him. " Mr. Cadwell, go at once, if you please," and she rang the bell for the maid. Charles rose to his feet. " And I want you to fully understand me. I do not wish you ever to set foot in my home again. Twice you've smoked the wrong kind of tobacco. I'm sick of you." He picked up his hat and coat angrily. " You will feel differently tomorrow," he said. " Good night," she replied, " and good-bye ! Marie, show Mr. Cadwell to the door," THE WRONG KIND OF TOBACCO 227 Young Cadwell left her for his club, where he sat for an hour thinking the affair over in a tempestuous mood, while Cherida went to bed and fell immediately into a seraphic sleep which fortunately for humanity does not confine its visitations to the pillows of the virtuous. CHAPTER XXV CHERIDA MAKES AN EXCHANGE Charles Cadwell had been bluffing. He had never thought he would be brought to the issue of making public that which he believed to be a slip on the part of the austere District Attorney. He merely wanted to profit by it. And although he cared no more for Che- rida Delafield's reputation than he did for his own, he had no desire to advertise her past. Now however, smarting under the castigation which he had received at her white hands he evolved an article which was in spired by all the malice of the meaner side of his nature. He arrayed his facts so that they told the story by implication, and this interesting bit of fiction he took to the office of a newspaper which although of shady repu tation, was allowed to circulate in the light of day, and was read openly by a large number of unthinking per sons. The editor, a friend of his by natural affinity, re ceived the contribution with alacrity. " Reamer, here is something for your Sunday issue. You may want to make a feature of it." The editor glanced at the manuscript and then tossed it into a pigeon-hole. " You won't forget." " I never forget my own business," said Reamer. " I want to read it again before I send it upstairs." " Good," said Charles, and he hurried away to busi- CHERIDA MAKES AN EXCHANGE 229 ness, better satisfied with himself, and smiling as he pic tured the feelings of the refined Cherida when she saw herself as he had drawn her. Cherida Delafield had her own plans. She knew Charles Cadwell as well as he knew himself. She knew that Reamer edited the worst newspaper in town, and therefore she argued that Charles would naturally gravi tate towards it. Clarence Reamer was sitting in his office, superintend ing the preparation of the fiction which was daily dissem inated from those headquarters under the title of news, when a lady came within his range of vision. It was a very difficult matter to penetrate the inner circle of Mr. Reamer's laboratory, but Cherida never stopped at difficulties. She was dressed in heliotrope from hat to stockings, which were attractively visible be tween the hem of her skirt and a dainty pair of patent leathers. If Cherida had any one vanity more than an other, it was her chaussure. The editor, looking up, forgot to resent this inter ruption. He paused in his occupation of the home manufacture of foreign items to contemplate with ap proval this shapely model of feminine beauty and mil linery art. He was a man with a tired face and jaded air. " Mr. Reamer," she began, " you are a very busy man, and I'm not going to take up very many moments of your valuable time." Mr. Reamer twisted a moustache already very much frayed by continued twisting and gnawings during mo ments of intense composition. " Charles Cadwell," continued the lady emphatically, " has gotten up the most outrageous, libellous story about me, and has given it to you to publish." 230 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Mr. Reamer, his business instinct awake, looked per fectly blank. " I know he has, Mr. Reamer, and I don't want you to publish it." Mr. Reamer knew nothing about it. " You don't want to be sued for libel, do you ? " was her next question. " My dear madam, we never publish anything libellous, and we have the best lawyers in the city at our com mand." " Mr. Reamer," she replied with a change of tone. " I'm only a woman, and I'm no match for the mighty engine of the press, but I want to ask you this : Would you like to have your reputation swept away by the breath of scandal when it isn't even true ? " Mr. Reamer, being imaginative only in the exercise of his vocation, looked bored. " So I have a business proposition to make to you." The editor became more animated. " I know you have to have just so much space filled, so I have brought you something to take the place of that story of Mr. Cadwell's. She produced from her reticule, and handed him a neatly written manuscript. " It is ever so much more amusing than that horrid thing he gave you. It's about him, and its true, too." The editor read the manuscript smiling. The fur ther he read the broader he smiled, and he ended with a laugh. " Can't we make a trade, Mr. Reamer ? " asked Che- rida in her most ingenuous air. Mr. Reamer took a manuscript from the pigeon-hole and handed it to her without a word. " I thank you very much," she replied with an accent of real gratitude, CHERIDA MAKES AN EXCHANGE 231 The editor was looking at her story again. " Wait a moment," he said, as she was about to go. " Can't you furnish us with a short, snappy society letter for every Sunday issue ? " " I should be very pleased to try," she replied laugh ing. " Send us something next week, and if it is half as good as this we will take it, and something every week. We may be able to make a feature of you. Good morn- ing." The pretty heliotrope gown walked gayly away, and Cherida smiled pleasantly to herself as she pictured Charles Cadwell's face when he read the Sunday paper. CHAPTER XXVI THE MAN WITH THE BROKEN NOSE Thomas Cadwell had discarded silence and come out into the open to fight. " I am innocent," he declared loudly. " I court the fullest inquiry ! I demand an investigation and complete vindication ! This affair has now reached a point where nothing can satisfy my honor but to meet my accusers face to face in open court, re fute their charges, and silence forever my calumniators." He also engaged the best legal talent in the country for his defense. The opportunity to meet his accusers face to face was duly given him, and on the Monday morning when his case was called to trial, the large defendant, accom panied by his son Charles, drove down town to the court house. Charles had the Sunday paper in his pocket, and was looking down in the mouth. He was debating in his mind whether to horsewhip Reamer, or to sue him for libel. He finally decided to do neither. Reamer had the reputation of being a " bad man," and Charles Cad- well was not a bold one. Also, he feared that if he be gan one libel suit against the newspaper he would stir up such a nest of yellow hornets as would keep him busy rubbing his skin for the rest of his life. So he swallowed his chagrin and wrath, only giving vent to his feelings by internally cursing everyone connected with the affair: the District Attorney, who was unscathed, 232 THE MAN WITH THE BROKEN NOSE 233 the woman who had beaten him, and Reamer who had played double. He read the story again, after the manner of one who takes a grim satisfaction in aggra vating his own wounds. Cherida had based the story upon what she knew of him, which was much, and upon what he had told her, which was more, and had drawn him as he pictured himself, while allowing her readers to see him as he really was. She told a story of finan cial dishonesty and domestic intrigue, in the same subtle maner which should have appealed to his own mean spirit, and as he reread it, and saw how closely she fol lowed the truth, while holding something in reserve, he was doubly impressed with the wisdom of silence, and could only calm himself with prayers for vengeance. It was thus that father and son rode to court. Thomas Cadwell showed no signs of nervousness. He had passed the nervous stage, his fighting blood was at white heat, and he was determined to win. He smoked his cigar, and looked over the morning's mail, which he had not had time to read at the office. Occasionally he made an endorsement on the back of a paper with the stub of a lead pencil, and handed it over to his son. " Charlie, here are the estimated earnings for the third week ; they ought to be published at once." " I sent them over the tape just before we left the office," replied the son. " Very good," commented the father. " They show a substantial increase. That ought to be a bull point on the stock." Charles nodded. His father went on with his instructions : " Answer McCord, and tell him that I will come out to see him as soon as I get this trial off my hands. Here are the THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY plans of the new boat-house. Look them over and tell me how they strike you." Charles took each paper as it was handed to him, and put it in his pocket for future attention. " And Charlie," remarked Cadwell, " the trial may last for some time. See that I get the opening and the closing quotations daily, and keep me posted generally in regard to the market." " You can always count on me," replied his son duti- fully. They were approaching the city-square, and the county court-house loomed up before them, a grey pile of granite against a pale blue winter sky. There had been a light fall of snow during the night, which had thrown a mantle of ermine over the shoulders of the statute of justice standing at the head of the long flight of steps. The ground was dazzling white under the rays of a bright sun, and the snow, still clinging to every branch and twig in the park, transformed it into fairy land. " There comes the District Attorney," said Charles, who was looking out of the window. "Where?" inquired his father, barely glancing up from his documents. " Coming across the park, carrying a leather bag." Thomas Cadwell looked out with a show of great in difference. " I suppose he thinks that he has got me in that little bag," he remarked sarcastically. " Take this contract to one of our lawyers this morning, and if it is all right for me to sign, bring it to me at the noon recess." Charles took the paper mechanically, still looking out of the carriage-window. " There is a large crowd on the court-house steps," THE MAN WITH THE BROKEN NOSE 235 he said. " It extends clear down to the street. He has difficulty in getting through. A policeman is pushing the crowd back. Some of them want to shake hands with him. Damn him, how popular he is. There is a lady with him ; it is his wife. Look ! look ! " he cried with sudden, great excitement, grasping his father's arm. The crowd which had gathered in front of the court house, a good-natured, pleasant crowd, pushing a little and allowing itself to be pushed back by the police, sud denly wavered, a quiver of excitement seized it, a shud der and a murmur ran through it. " What is it, Charlie? " asked Cadwell, dropping all indifference. Their carriage had been forced to stop, and was drawn up to the curb. Charles leaped out, his eyes wide with excitement. The crowd was growing like a swarm of bees. On its outskirts men and boys ran wildly in all directions, many trying to push their way to the centre, while from within they were being forced back vigorously by police-officers, who did not hesitate to use their clubs. The District Attorney had started to cross the park alone; before he had gone a hundred yards he saw his wife, who met him with a smile. " I want a seat in the court-room," she said. " There is such a crowd of men I hated to go through them. I'm glad I got here be fore you went in." " Come on, then, I'll make a place for you," he re plied. Just before he reached the steps the District Attorney stopped to shake hands with a friend ; the throng pressed around him good-naturedly, some of them holding out their hands; the policemen pushed them back a little, also good-naturedly. Constance stood looking at her husband with pride. Jostled a little by some men, she 236 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY was forced back a pace or two, and had only Richard's back to admire. At her side was a man whose flattened nose was set upon his face at an angle. Constance drew away from him ; she thought him hideous. As she drew back she saw the sun flash on something which he was holding close to his side in his right hand. With light ning intuition, and a sharp warning cry of terror, she sprang forward and caught at the hand as it was raised. At the sound of her voice Richard turned quickly, and a knife, deflected from its course, struck him in the shoulder. He caught his assailant, and would have held him but for a simultaneous rush of other men which threw him to the ground. During this confusion the man with the crooked nose escaped. A policeman tried to clear away the crowd; while in the centre of it, Constance, heedless of all else, had thrown herself down on the snowy walk to support her husband's head, which had struck the curb and was bleed ing. " They have not done it," he said, as he looked up into her face. " I'm all right." The blood from the wound in his shoulder saturated her dress and stained the trampled snow. This is what Charles saw when he had forced his way through the crowd. He looked at the scene for a mo ment, then turned and hurried excitedly back, the clang ing of the police patrol and the ambulance sounding in his ears as he reached the carriage. " There will be no trial today, and perhaps never," and he told what he had seen. " It looks like destiny, Charlie," said Thomas Cadwell, controlling his excitement. " I am not such a hypocrite as to say I'm sorry. I hope he dies; it will simplify matters. Who did it?" THE MAN WITH THE BROKEN NOSE 237 " I don't know. Some one who had a grudge against him, I suppose." " Tell the coachman to drive back to the office. We can get the latest news there by telephone." CHAPTER XXVII TRIED BY HIS PEERS The District Attorney was forced to take a vacation lying on his bed; "Graft" rejoiced openly; the man with the broken nose slunk away like a shadow, following his twisted organ through many turnings into that Al- satia which spread out its protecting arms to hide him, while in his dumb-brute's heart he felt that he had done a thing to merit the applause which greeted him. Unfortunately, however, for his chances of continued liberty, his face had been so marked for identification that he was speedily apprehended by the police, and removed from the stage of active employment for many years to come. The District Attorney was not mortally hurt, and the joy of " Graft " was of short duration. He was soon able to be partly dressed, and to lie on a couch in his bed room. The trial was postponed until Spring, and, dis missing all thought of affairs, he gave himself up to his wife's care. There was the enchantment of Elysium in being forced to lie on the comfortable couch ; to listen to the rustle of her dress as she went about the room ; to awake from a half-sleep and see her; to feel her hand upon his forehead. And she was happy, for never be fore had they been so continually together. It was a month before the District Attorney could ob tain permission to return to his office. " We have had our honeymoon, anyway," said his 238 TRIED BY HIS PEERS 239 pretty nurse, as she kissed him goodbye, " and the more I see of you the better I like you." He returned to his office in better health than ever. The Spring found him, with superabundant energy, primed for the trial, and at last Thomas Cadwell stood before the bar. The notable prisoner sat surrounded by an imposing array of counsel, and flanked by his son Charles, who, as aide-de-camp, came and went between the court-room and his father's office. It was a gathering of notables which shouldered its way into the court-room to assist at the trial. There were notables from every walk of life. There were Biily Finn and a large contingent from the Rushmore, who filled the corridors with cigar-smoke, and expecto rated liberally in the halls of justice. There were merchants, bankers, brokers, and profes sional men, all keenly alive to the importance of the case. The Respectable Citizen was there. In his heart he wished to see justice triumph, but he was afraid that the District Attorney had gone a little too far in bring ing so prominent a man as Thomas Cadwell to the bar. Here and there the old court-room was dottted with color where ladies sat; ladies from the fashionable world, whose carriages rarely came below the shopping district, for the trial of Thomas Cadwell was a " cause celebre " and every one wanted a good seat at the play. Mrs. Quintin-Tailer came down, and looked at the scene through her lorgnette. It was a new world to her, and it interested her. She had known the Cadwells slightly, and she felt shocked that so prominent a man could be haled to court. Mrs. Delafield was there in such a stunning costume that Mrs. Quintin-Tailer could not help looking at her, although she failed to recognize her. 240 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Charles Cadwell looked at her, but she met his gaze with a slight curl of the lip, and a trace of amusement in her eyes. He would have spoken to her, too, for in some instances he was of an easy, forgiving nature, but she froze his advances with such a grand air of disdain that he hesitated, stammered, and turned away, with a dull flush on his heavy cheek. Doc' Connor strolled into court, nodded condescend ingly to the door-keeper, and elbowed himself to a good seat, treading heavily on Silas Cotton's foot as he pushed by that little old gentleman. William Craig appeared, shook Cadwell warmly by the hand, before he hurried down town to watch the ticker for the first sales of Traction Common. Francis Thayer came in quietly, shook hands with the District Attorney, and took a seat near by. When every available space was taken, and the court room was packed from wall to wall, the judge gravely and wisely forbade the entrance of any more spectators. Maier had been brought down from the state peni tentiary. He was somewhat overshadowed among the other notables, and looked like a very insignificant " City Father," with his ears sticking out like a school-boy's, in the absence of his curly locks. Minna was in court. She looked unusually blooming in spite of her cares. She got an opportunity to whisper to her husband en couragingly : " The children are all well. I have put pants on little Karl ; he wears them to the school. Busi ness is good. Your old friends are all so kind. Louis Mindenhof brought me today, and Rudolph Stein, he helps me with the business." Karl Maier felt a pang of jealousy. He trusted Minna, of course, but it was hard to sit with the detective and the other witnesses and see Minna, " the prettiest TRIED BY HIS PEERS 241 woman in the court-room," sitting with Mindenhof by her side, and to have six months more of jail, counting " good behavior," to look forward to. There was one notable person not present at the trial. The day before, Samuel Haverland had gone out to his country place, and so missed the opportunity of seeing his son get up and open the celebrated case of the People vs. Thomas Cadwell. Public sentiment in the audience was divided. Some expressed their sympathy for the defendant, others ex pressed a desire to see him go to jail; while many re mained meutral, ready to throw up their caps and shout for joy at the acquittal of the accused, or to turn down their thumbs relentlessly at the convicted felon. The big defendant sat behind a rampart of the best legal talent money could procure, and, as Karl Maier thought, looked rather condescendingly at the District Attorney. Thomas Cadwell was outwardly calm. He stroked his heavy brown moustache slowly as he looked the jury over with an air neither condescending nor in different. He looked at them with the eye of a man who reads character, for it was now with these twelve men that his fate lay. Ignorant or intelligent, vicious or honest, or weak ; whatever their mental, moral or phys ical make-up, it lay with these men, summoned from their various occupations, to decide as to the fate of one whom they had never seen, nor would probably ever see again, and having decided to go back to their various walks, and never come together again as -a body cor porate. Mrs. Cadwell had become prostrated with distress and grief when the time for her husband's trial arrived, and was at home in bed, in charge of a trained nurse, but Helen took her place by the side of the accused. Her 16 242 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY face was very pale. She did not for a moment doubt that he was innocent, but the terror of the proceedings chilled her soul, and she sat looking with large eyes about the court-room, feeling that it was all very strange, and unnecessary. She followed every detail, even the most trivial, with intense and breathless interest, as if upon each incident depended the whole result. She re garded all those who were opposed to him as his bitter, vindictive enemies and hers. She regarded all those who were on his side as his personal and close friends and hers. Thus she would have sat through all the weary hours, listening to the arguments and wrangling of counsel, and to the testimony of witnesses, her heart throbbing with anguish at the smallest point lost, or exulting with triumph at the smallest gain. Her father suggested, with a tenderness which for her he had never lacked, that the strain was too great for her, and he in sisted that she remain away. At first she refused to leave the post she had assumed, but in this matter his will over ruled, and upon the second day she was not there. Cad- well drew a sigh of relief. Still, she would have gladly borne the torture which it must have been to sit there. And if that torture had been ten times greater, still she would gladly have borne it for him, and would have re mained at his side merely that her presence, the touch of her hand, a word from her, might give support and com fort to him she loved. To her, he could never be proven guilty, whatever the verdict of the twelve might be, for her faith in him was not born of logic, it was born of natural and enduring affection. It could not be shat tered, could not be undermined by argument or by sworn testimony. She loved him and believed in him, because he was her father. In his opening the District Attorney described the TRIED BY HIS PEERS 243 case as one of momentous importance to the Common wealth, which statement caused Mr. Brower, of the de fense, to elevate his Websterian brow, and give a slight shrug to his large shoulders, as if the grave charges were too trifling to warrant troubling the jury. The prosecution, in its anxiety to allow no link to be dropped, had summoned a long line of witnesses. Among them was a maid who had been in Cadwell's employ. She testified that upon a certain evening she had admit ted Keating to her employer's house. This was impor tant; the jury sat up. Under cross-examination she became uncertain as to the time of year. As to his looks ? Well, he looked like Keating; she was positive he was the same. " Oh, he looked like Keating, did he? " exclaimed Mr. Brower, seizing upon the point with avidity, " now tell the jury Miss what did you say your name was? " Mr. Brower leaned over the rail inquiringly, and very politely. " Marianne Dufraise." " Now tell the jury, Miss Dufraise, just how the man looked whom you say you admitted to Mr. Cadwell's res idence at a time, the date of which you don't quite re member. Look at the jury, Miss Dufraise, and speak a little louder; speak so that the last juror in the last row can hear you." Miss Dufraise, a bright-eyed young French-woman, faced the jury, and blushed a little as twelve pairs of eyes were leveled at her. " 'e look' - 'e look' I notice " she hesitated. " Well, what did you notice, Miss Dufraise ? Tell the jury just what you did notice if anything." " 'e 'ad a black mustache, and a agreeable smile," fal tered Miss Dufraise. 244 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " Anything else, Miss Duf raise ? " inquired Mr. Brower sharply. Miss Dufraise's faculties growing benumbed under Mr. Brewer's searching gaze, she could remember nothing at the moment. " Now look at the man who has been identified here today as Mr. Keating. Don't look over there, if you know him you ought to see him right here. Stand up, will you, Keating? Now tell us, Miss Duf raise, do you see the black mustache ? " " 'e 'as shave' hisself ," remarked Miss Dufraise naively. "Do you see the agreeable smile? Tell the jury, Miss Dufraise, whether you can see the smile, Remem ber you are talking to the jury, don't pay any attention to me. I cut no figure in this trial. Miss Marianne Dufraise examined Keating's shaven face critically in an earnest attempt to discover the smile. Then she turned to the jury with a little shrug. " No, 'e look ver' onhappy today." " And yet," said Mr. Brower, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets, " they would convict my client on a black mustache and a smile. One moment, Miss Du fraise," called out Mr. Brower quickly as the witness seemed on the eve of escaping from the chair. " I have one more little question to put to you." Mademoiselle Marianne settled down with a sigh. Mr. Brower went back to the table, and taking up the type-written testimony, read it slowly and carefully. The jury watched him intently, anticipating a sensa tion. Mr. Brower walked slowly back to the rail which separated him from the witness, adjusted his eye-glasses, leaned forward, and looked fixedly at the young woman. " Did I understand you to testify, in your direct ex- TRIED BY HIS PEERS 245 animation, that you were in the employ of Mr. Cad- well? " he asked suavely, with a smile. " No ! " replied the witness knitting her brows. " Ah," exclaimed Mr. Brower with insinuating soft ness, " you were discharged ? " " No ! " Miss Duf raise drew herself up proudly. " I discharge zem." " In other words," continued the big lawyer sternly, " there was a disagreement which resulted in your being forced to leave the place." " I tak' my lief," replied Miss Dufraise emphatically, shaking her head until the daisies in her hat nodded as if blown by the wind. " Yes, because I could not work for that Meeses Cadwell no more. Mees Cadwell, she is ver' nice. Mistaire Cadwell he is ver 5 good," indif ference expressed by two little shrugs, "but Meeses Cadwell, she is impossible! " Marianne spread out her hands, and raised her eyes dramatically. " And so I tak' my lief. I say to Mistaire Cadwell : ' / can go, yes; but you, yoii, Mistaire Cadwell, mus' stay. I lief you my great sympathie." Amid a general explosion of laughter, Miss Dufraise left the chair and walked back to her seat in court with head erect and heightened color. Witnesses whose testimony seemed of slight importance passed in procession. There were politicians of vari ous shades; there were servants from Mr. Cadwell's household, there were clerks from his office Miss Swift excited more than passing interest in a large picture-hat with black ostrich plumes, got up especially for the occa sion. At last Maier came to the stand. His testimony brought the question of bribery fairly up to Keating, but only cast the shadow of suspicion beyond him, on to Cadwell. 246 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Therefore it was on Keating that the whole case hinged, and it was for Keating that old Brower was sharpening his claws. There was a stir and a craning of necks among the spectators when the star witness for the prosecution was called to the stand. The twelve in the jury box sat as one man, alert and wide-awake. Even the venerable judge looked over his glasses with interest as the court officer administered the oath. The District Attorney, who thus far had left most of the examination to his assistants, arose to question the witness. It would have been so easy for Keating, having nothing more to lose, to have shielded Cadwell, who on some future day would have rewarded him generously. But during Keating's own trial the District Attorney had somehow got at the truth. He had succeeded in dragging it out somewhat as a robin drags a reluctant worm from the damp earth. Although Keating was no weakling, although he was well-skilled in every device of deceit, in the quiet-voiced District Attorney he had found a mental master, and having once surrendered to his will he made no further fight. So in the Cadwell trial Keating took the stand prepared to tell the truth. Keating having started in to tell the truth let out a flood of it. " We had," said Mr. Keating, rubbing his white, well- kept hand over his blue-black upper lip, " a complete list of the Aldermen. Mr. Cadwell invented the system of bookkeeping which I kept for him. We knew which men it would be safe to bribe, and which men should be avoided. We knew which men were owned by us, body and soul, and which were doubtful " I object! " said Mr. Brower. " To what? " inquired the District Attorney. TRIED BY HIS PEERS 247 " To the statement of the witness that he had estab lished any proprietory rights over the souls of Alder men." The objection was sustained. " We knew who were our friends, who were our ene mies, and who were doubtful. If a man could be won by small loans, if we could get control of a man by mak ing him large advances they were made ' " I object," declared Mr. Brower emphatically. A lengthy argument between the opposing counsel followed, during which Keating twiddled his fingers, and looked indifferently at the ceiling. The discussion was followed by some of the jurors, while others dropped into a lethargic condition closely bordering on sleep. " Continue, Mr. Keating, if you please," said the Dis trict Attorney finally, with a bow to the judge, and Keating, without a change of countenance, went on " Or if a man could be reached by drink, drink was used to reach him." The jury all watched the witness with expressions of countenance varying from scorn to admiration. Keating's testimony revealed the different values which men place upon themselves. One man would cheerfully sell himself for a railroad-pass, while another would only sell to raise an oppressive mortgage, or pay off a long harassing debt. Keating explained that in his dealings with his patron the money transactions were in actual cash, and lie could furnish no records, beyond his own book, which was offered in evidence. Mr. Brower objected strenuously, and it was ruled that the little book could be used only to refresh the memory of the witness. " He always handed me out the money in new bank notes," Keating went on in a reminiscent tone. " He 248 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY was always very particular that all the money which he touched should be clean. He told me that the old bills, which had been through so many hands, were apt to be infected with bacteria." " I object," murmured Mr. Brower. " I came to Mr. Cadwell one night when the traction bill looked in danger " " Was that when the French maid came to the door? " asked the District Attorney. " No, I think that it was a member of the family." " Proceed," said the District Attorney with a quick gesture. " It was just after dinner, Mr. Cadwell came into the library in his dress-suit. ' They're holding us up at the last minute,' I said." " ' Now I will get mad,' he cried, banging his fist down on the library table. ' I trusted you, Keating, and I'll pay you your ten thousand on the outside as agreed, but not a cent more.' ' Then down she drops,' said I, ' for there are two or three men who have taken advantage of the close vote to enter into an agreement among them selves not to take less than four thousand apiece.' He swore that they were robbers, and that they ought to do it for twenty-five hundred, which was what others had got. I asked him : ' How about the law of supply and demand ? Pay up or let it go,' I said, for I was getting tired. " ' Will it go through surely at that price ? ' he asked. " ' It's the most wobbly Board I've ever had anything to do with, and it is all on account of that Frank Thayer. He has got a strong following, but we can put it through tonight sure if you let me buy two men at their own price, and then to make doubly sure, to get one TRIED BY HIS PEERS 249 other, a little German. He is one of Frank Thayer's own men, but I think I can get him fairly cheap. 5 " ' Will he stay bought ? ' asked Mr. Cadwell. " ' He will if I once get him, and he will come in handy in the future.' So it ended in Mr. Cadwell's opening his safe and giving me the money. He only had seven thousand in cash, so he gave me a check for four, and I came away. I bought Maier an hour later, I paid Hall, the man who was drowned last month in the Gulf, his four, and Sullivan I settled with next day, and we put the bill through that night." It was when Joseph Keating was turned over to Mr. B rower for cross-examination that the real fun began for those spectators who had come as to a play. In this line of work Mr. Brower had few equals in his profession. He could make a witness forget everything he thought he knew, almost to his own name, and then ask insinuatingly " whether he had a good memory.'* He could intimidate, bully and brow-beat a witness, turn him inside-out, and send him from the chair as crest fallen and discredited as a detected pickpocket, but at the last moment dismissing him with such Chesterfieldian politeness as to salve the victim's wounds upon the spot. When Brower raged he was terrible, but when he was polite he was most to be feared. He was terribly polite to Keating, while he stripped from him, and held up be fore the jury, every detail of his past. He seemed a veritable walking biography of Joseph Keating, written only on the dark side of the page, and he brought this record to the light of day, from the time when Keating was a young employee in one of the City Departments, to the hour when he forfeited his bail and ran away. He did all this with that fine dexterity with which a 250 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY surgeon wields his knife, without once losing his own temper, or ruffling a hair. Putting his eye-glasses firmly on his nose, he took up the freshly typewritten pages of Keating's testimony and cleared his throat. The very rustling of the leaves, as he turned them with his quick hand, seemed to foretell the coming storm. First he started to riddle it with his sharp shot, firing question after question with that keen precision born of long practice in the art; but as to certain facts in con nection with Thomas Cadwell, Keating did not flinch. Then Brower brought out his heavy guns and trained them, and struck at every spot which he thought might be vulnerable and where he might make a breach, but as to certain dates and figures Keating's testimony re mained unshaken. With his little, red, Russian-leather memorandum-book held in his right hand, to refresh his memory, Keating turned every shot aside. " Can't you get along without that book, sir? " cried Brower with intense exasperation. " No, sir ! " said Keating politely. " I need it to refresh my memory." And Brower, falling back re pulsed upon this line, suddenly renewed his questioning as to Keating's past. This he did with such telling effect as to recover some of his lost prestige, and when Keating finally left the stand, he was pale to the lips and shaking, while even the audience drew a sigh of relief. The counsel for the defense then called their star witness, and Mr. Thomas Cadwell took the stand. He sat down in the chair as calmly as if he were the least interested in court, and had the least at stake. The fact that he had so much at stake caused him to overplay the part a trifle. Mr. Brower asked him but a few ques- TRIED BY HIS PEERS 251 tions, and all of his replies were in the nature of denial. " That will do, Mr. Cadwell," said Mr. Brower with a bow and a smile, as if to say to the jury: "You see, gentlemen, that is all there is to the case." The District Attorney got up. Thomas Cadwell set tled himself a little more firmly in his chair, put his hand to his drooping brown moustache, swallowed once or twice, and waited. The District Attorney began in his quiet way, and he asked some very pointed and awk ward questions. Mr. Thomas Cadwell denied. Mr. Brower looked on with some anxiety, alert as a hunting dog ready to spring. Mr. Brower feared this cross-examination. The District Attorney had almost an uncanny faculty of getting at the truth and Brower had hesitated to put the neck of his client, tough as it might be, within the swing of the public prosecutor's axe. Thomas Cadwell, strong, always cool, very wary, made an excellent witness for the defense. He denied. Oh, if Karl Maier could but have denied like that; he might now have been enjoying the fruits of that same Mr. Cad- well's three thousand dollars, and many other dollars, in a fine, large store, with Minna's hands growing whiter every day. When Thomas Cadwell did not deny he for got. Oh, if Karl Maier could have forgotten like that! Cadwell showed such a lapse of memory about his own affairs that one innocent juryman wondered how he re membered where his office was, and how he found his way home at night. The District Attorney did get one admission from the witness ; he had given Mr. Keating a check for four thousand dollars for legal services, for legal ser vices, nothing more. He made this admission openly THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY and frankly; surely he had nothing to conceal. After that he continued to deny. Mr. Brower did not appear to consider this admission of any importance. The District Attorney did. After a long, hard struggle during which Thomas Cadwell never once lost his head nor his temper, for he was fighting as if for his life, the District Attorney said " that is all, Mr. Cadwell," and the defendant, re turning to his seat, asked for a glass of water, and drew a long breath. Mr. Brower, with the dramatic manner which in the court-room came to him so readily, and which in the outer world he laid aside, arose and said that they would not take up the time of the court, and the very valuable time of the jury, by calling other witnesses. The defense was quite willing, even eager, to have the case go to the jury on the testimony, or rather upon the lack of testimony, which the able young District Attor ney had presented. Mr. Brower sat down, wiped his large forehead, and turned to speak to an associate with careless ease, leaving the spectators, and the jury as well, very much im pressed. The summing up was set for the afternoon session and the court adjourned for recess. During the interval, gentlemen of a sporting turn of mind offered to bet on the acquittal of the prisoner. With no takers the odds grew to five to one, whereupon Billy Finn slipped quietly around, putting up his money wherever he could find an offer. He whispered in Con nor's ear what he was doing. The boss laughed at him : " What do you want to throw your money away for ; these big wigs have got the game ' cinched,' don't you see they are packing up their bats already ? " TRIED BY HIS PEERS 253 " It was the long odds which caught me," explained Finn, " and Doc', we ain't heard the District Attorney's * spiel ' yet. He is all right. I remember him ever since the night at Harmony Hall." " You did not hear him speak that night," said Con nor. " Yes, I did, he spoke to me ; he said : ' Keep off dis platform ! ' purlite as that. * Why will I? ' says I, just like that. Then he handed me one biff in the eye which told me just why. He's a winner, Doc'. I tell yer he was Terry Duiibar's star kid. You wait 'till he gets warmed up." " This ain't a sparring match," answered Connor with an impatient shrug. " Ain't it ? There's where you're wrong. It's a spar ring match from start to finish, with the old gray whis kers with the warm face as referee. Didn't you see him make 'em break away when they clinched foul? It's the man in the best form and with the best wind that wins out in the final bout. All dis testimony guff is just the prelim'nary sparrin'. The District Attorney has been saving himself. He's it! I tell yer, Doc'. He's a winner! You know I'm always great on pickin' 'em. Five to one on him is like finding money. It's a sin to let it go by." " Put a hundred on him for me," replied Doc' Connor, " just for a flyer. I hate to watch a game and not have anything up." " All right," said Finn, highly pleased, " there was a sport out in front of the court-house, with a red tie, who was talkin' big money. I'll see if he has got it with him. Gimme it quick for it's nearly two o'clock, and the crowd is making back for the court-room." So thoroughly had the sharp Mr. Brower in the cross- 254 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY examination cut Keating's reputation into shreds, and discredited his testimony, that when the big lawyer for the defense got upon his feet to sum up, there was not a man in the court-room, outside of Connor and Finn who had got their money on Richard Haverland, who had not already in his inner consciousness set the defendant free. There was a feeling in the minds of many that Thomas Cadvvell, in spite of his pompous air of innocence, had been guilty of considerable irregularity in regard to financial matters. Had Keating been corroborated by any man whose word was above reproach, Cadwell would have been convicted, but on Keating's word, the jury, if polled at that moment, would not have hung a yellow dog for stealing a bone. Mr. Brower cleared his throat, ran his fingers through his iron-gray hair, and began by complimenting the jury upon their intelligence. In the long course of a suc cessful career Mr. Brower had never failed to compli ment the jury upon its intelligence. If Mr. Brower's remarks preliminary to summing up were accepted at full weight, the jury panels would furnish sufficient wisdom to stock both bench and bar, and leave a hand some surplus. Mr. Brower, having established pleasant relations be tween himself and the twelve men before him, went over the testimony, and pointed out to the very intelligent jury that it must have a meaning exactly opposite to the interpretation placed upon it by the exceedingly clever prosecuting official, whose business it was to make a case even out of the flimsiest of material. From his point of view Mr. Brower showed the clear-sighted jury how very flimsy and unconvincing the evidence was. In the cross-examination of Keating he had made the star- witness admit that his character had been far from irre- TRIED BY HIS PEERS 255 proachable. He had done this for the most part pur- ringly, only occasionally showing the claws underneath, but now he tossed his lion's head and roared, and tore Keating to pieces. He walked up and down before the rail, he shook his terrible index finger at the empty chair where Keating had sat in court now that his part had been played he had been taken back to jail to serve out his two years and the audience, following that index finger, seemed to see the unhappy man's figure cowering and withering there under the excoriation. Mr. Brower pleaded with all his masterly eloquence ; he worked upon the feelings of the jury, he wrought upon their emo tions; he played upon their sympathies with consum mate skill. He reminded the jury of their duty to the Commonwealth, and told them of the great responsibility which it had placed upon them. He threatened them with the awful torture of their consciences, and even the vengeance of their God, if they were misled or betrayed into giving a wrong verdict ; and there could be but one right and just verdict, and that was for his client. He sat down flushed and perspiring, feeling that the day was won. Then the District Attorney rose. One or two of the jurors yawned, and the defendant's lawyers, as Doc' Connor had remarked, were " packing up their bats." The District Attorney took up the testimony bit by bit and asked the jury to weigh it well. He asked them where Mr. Brower had shaken Heating's statements, or caused him to contradict himself. He asked them to disregard as much as possible the unfortunate circum stances of Keating's life ; even the strongest men were subject to temptation. Here he allowed his eyes to rest for an instant on the defendant. Keating was not on trial for what he had done. He had been tried for that, 256 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY and was paying the penalty. Had he any motive now but to tell the truth? No spirit of revenge had been shown by the witness, although the eminent counsel had tried his best to uncover such a feeling, but Keating always referred respectfully to his old employer and associate in business. Therefore it was only fair to give him the benefit of all doubt, and to believe that he was ruled by a desire to make amends. The District Attorney stood with one hand on the rail, the other raised from time to time in an easy ges ture, sometimes leaning forward a little in his earnest ness to enforce a point. The jurymen who had yawned were now attentive, and Mr. Brower, sitting at the table behind him, was making frequent notes with his trained and rapid hand. The District Attorney did not burst into oratorical flight; he spoke so quietly that those in the spectators' seats held their breath to hear him. He seemed to for get the judge and the opposing counsel; for him there existed none but the jury, and for their ears alone he spoke. So convinced was he of the defendant's guilt that he pressed it resistlessly into the minds of the twelve men before him. His whole plea was a prayer for faith towards the Commonwealth. " The distinguished counsel for the defence, he said with pregnant emphasis, " has done well to remind you of your duty to the Commonwealth. Such a duty, gen tlemen, does not begin nor end with the oath which you have taken in this court. The birthright in a Democ racy carries with it an obligation of patriotism. It is a sacred trust which rests upon us all, and those of us who are faithless to that trust are unworthy of our heritage. Not only are they false to their trust who misuse their talents to despoil the State and enrich themselves ; but they are also faithless, who, recognizing an evil, hesitate TRIED BY HIS PEERS 257 through fear or weakness to condemn it as it deserves. The State demands that you do your duty in this mat ter fearlessly, unswayed by the eloquence of counsel, un dismayed by the high position of his client. " One of the noblest of human feelings is the love of country. One of the basest is the love of gold. With one hand, Man has carved Amor Patrice on monuments of stone, while with the other he has struck down Lib erty and throttled Justice in his drunken lust for money. For Thomas Cadwell, blinded by personal desire, witK a soul dead to the ideals upon which this Republic was founded, there was no place so high but that he musf reach out for it with a corrupt hand. With eyes fixed upon a greater prize, he carelessly neglected to cover up all the tracks which he had made in securing a lesser one " The District Attorney paused for a moment. " Gentlemen, for what purpose did the check for four thousand dollars pass into the hands of Joseph Keat ing? I want you to keep that question constantly be fore you. I appeal to your intelligence, whether in this case the word ' retainer ' was not the euphuistic term for 'bribe?' " At last the people of this Commonwealth have sum moned this man to the bar. Thomas Cadwell, who boasts of an American ancestry of two hundred years or more, whose name is in every gilt-edged volume of the elite, is charged with having bribed one Karl Maier an alien by birth, and a man of humble antecedents and limited understanding. Thomas Cadwell really stands before this bar impeached for treason, an enemy of the Republic he has debauched." There was a ring in his voice which awoke the echoes of the old room, and thrilled those who heard, as he closed fervently: 17 258 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " The honor of the Commonwealth, gentlemen of the jury, lies in your hands; and if this man, who has done this thing, shall take his seat in the Senate of this coun try and presume to make its laws, the shame is yours." He sat down. There was a hush in the court-room. Then the judge cleared his throat, took a drink of water and adjusted his spectacles, while the jury turned in their seats and faced him with respectful attention. He was an elderly man, with a strong, quiet face, and he delivered his charge in measured tones and evenly balanced sentences. The jury were to dismiss sympathy, sentiment, preju dices and other human emotions, and, relying entirely upon their intelligence, bring in a verdict based only on the evidence which had been submitted. In substance he told them that if they held that Thomas Cadwell was guilty they were to convict him ; if they held that he was innocent they were to acquit him ; and then solemnly recommending them to their consciences and to God, he turned them over to the court officer to be locked up until they rendered a verdict. The jury, thereupon called to the centre of the stage, with all eyes upon them, filed slowly out of the room trying to appear as if they had suppressed all sym pathy, sentiment, prejudice and emotion, and succeed ing in looking very self-conscious. The strong personality of the District Attorney had impressed itself upon them ; it could not have been other wise. Above all the testimony which they had heard, above all Mr. Brower's florid eloquence, above the judge's charge, there rung in their ears his closing words : " If this man, who has done this thing, shall take his seat in the Senate of this country and presume to make its laws, the shame is yours" CHAPTER XXVIII IN THE JURY BOOM The twelve peers of Thomas Cadwell, in the custody of the court-officers, were taken up stairs to a small, badly ventilated cell. In this room were twelve hard- seated chairs, destined to grow harder as the hours grew longer. In the centre was a plain, wooden table ; otherwise the place was bare of furniture, with barren, white walls. Through the one window a view of the court-house square could be obtained by any one with sufficient enter prise to clean the dirt from the window-panes. The twelve good men and true were not imprisoned for any crime of their own commission. The intention was merely to seclude them where they could deliberate undisturbed, and where their mental powers would not be dissipated by easeful luxury. No sooner was the key turned in the lock and the twelve left to themselves and to their twelve consciences, than there was a spontaneous reaching for the consoler. With each juror this took the shape of a cigar, varying from that of his neighbor in size, quality, strength and flavor, except in the case of a husky-voiced Irishman, who took out a black, clay pipe, and of one unfortunate man whom tobacco affected most unpleasantly. The jurors sat down in as easy attitudes as the chairs per mitted, there was a crackling volley of matches, clouds of smoke, and the case of the Commonwealth vs. Thomas Cadwell was open for discussion. 259 260 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY The foreman, a travelling man for a dry-goods house, who sported a loud necktie and a rakish air, took the head of the table. " The first thing in order, gentlemen, I suppose, is to take a vote to see how we stand." Juror number nine, who in the court-room catechism had given his occupation as that of a broker, seconded the proposal. "Will you prepare the slips?" asked the foreman. And the broker, in a business-like way, tore a sheet of paper into twelve little blanks, which he distributed among his fellow jurors. While these preliminaries were in progress the con versation in the room was of a general and rather social nature. After the ballots had been deposited in a hat they were opened and called off by the foreman, the result reading : " Guilty : nine." "Not guilty: three." " You have heard the result, gentlemen," said the travelling-man glibly, " nine to three on the People, I mean nine for conviction and three for acquittal. I now suggest that the three who backed I mean who were for acquittal, get up in turn, and state their rea sons." A little man with red, bushy whiskers, the Irishman with the pipe, and a well-dressed young man with a white carnation in his button-hole, all stood up promptly. " I don't believe that fellow Keating," said the man with the red whiskers, quickly, and then sat down. " Any other reason ? " asked the foreman lightly, after a short pause. IN THE JURY ROOM 261 "Isn't that enough?" replied the red-bearded man, " I don't believe him. I throw his testimony out." " How about you ? " asked the foreman nodding fa miliarly toward the Irishman. The short clay pipe came from the mouth, followed by a cloud of smoke which made the juryman who could not stand tobacco cough violently. " That man Keatin'," began the Irishman slowly, marking time in the air with the stem of his pipe, " that man Keatin' tistified that he bought whiskey at wan dollar and twinty-foive cents a gallon ' " What has that to do with the case? " promptly in terrupted the sixth juror, a merchant in woolen goods. " Oi sed gallon, not case," replied the Irishman. " Well, what of it? It has no bearing here." " Ye heard his tistimony, didn't ye ? " answered the Irishman. " I did, there was nothing about whiskey in it. This isn't an excise case." " There wuz so- something about whiskey. Doan't Oi know " " Gentlemen ! Order ! " cried the foreman. " But Oi know " " There wasn't " " There was ; there was something about whiskey," exclaimed a grocer, who had not spoken before. " It was when they were questioning him about his wine- cellar at his country-place, and the lawyer for the de fense, the big one with the gray beard, asked him what he paid for whiskey." " Gentlemen, gentlemen," cried the foreman, " will you please let Mr. Flanigan, who has the floor, speak." " Bedad, some of yez want the flure and the whole 262 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY earth. I'll spake whin thim two gets it sittled who asked it." " Go on, Mr. Flanigan." " ' How much did ye pay for that whiskey ? ' says the loier for the definse. ' I paid wan-dollar-an' twinty- foive cints,' sezs Mr. Keatin,' that's what he sezs. Now oi doan't give my vote to ony man who buys whiskey at that price an' gives it to his frins, or begorra, to his inimies, to dhrink." " But Mr. Flanigan," interposed a juror with a very agreeable manner, " what has the price which Keating paid for his whiskey got to do with the guilt of the de fendant?" " What did they bring it out fur? " exploded Flani gan, waving his pipe in the air. " They did it to show that Keatin' wuz so mane he wudn't dhrink dacent whis key. Oi've dhrank whiskey all my loife " Mr. Flanigan," interrupted the dealer in fancy- goods, " there was no evidence offered that Mr. Keating drank that whiskey." " That's jist the pint," cried Flanigan excitedly, " the spalpeen buys it chape to sind out in bottles to his frins around ilection. Oi'll not give my vote for a man as mane as that. An' did ye hear the judge's charge? Didn't he say : ' if ye think Keatin's a liar throw him down,' sezs the judge. Ony man that buys wan-twinty- foive cint whiskey is wurse than a liar. I'd not believe his dying oat'. Now oi've got no more to say. Sittle it amung yersilves, but oi vote fur Mr. Cadwell. He is a gintleman, and looks to know good whiskey." " But we have got to agree upon a verdict," said the foreman. " Well, agrea, thin, whose hindering ye ? Agrea with me. Oi'll niver vote fur yer man." IN THE JURY ROOM 263 " Mr. Flanigan," explained the juror with the agree able manner, " we are here for the purpose of deciding whether Mr. Cadwell is, or is not, guilty of the crime as charged in the indictment." " Shure, an' oi have decided. * Not ghuilty.' ' " May I inquire your reason, sir," asked the fancy- goods man with sarcasm. " Oi told yer wanst," roared Flanigan. " Ony man " Now gentlemen," said the pleasant mannered juror, " don't get excited. Mr. Flanigan doubtless has good reasons for his decision. Every man must decide this question according to his conscience." " Yer roight, sor, an' my conscience want let me have ony dhealin's with wan-dollar-and-twinty-foive-cent whiskey," and Mr. Flanigan tipped back in his chair, smoking serenely. " I move that we proceed with the discussion," put in the broker, " my neighbor on my right has not yet been heard." The young man with the white carnation got up, cleared his throat, and said : " Cadwell is innocent." "How do you make that out?" "Why is he?" " Give us your reasons ? " came from different parts of the room. " Gentlemen," exclaimed the young man with emo tion, " did you see his daughter sitting beside him on the first day of the trial? Did you notice her devotion to him? Did you notice his devotion to her? Did you see how he spoke to her? Were those the actions of a guilty man? I understand that his wife is ill at home, broken-hearted at the mere suspicion which rests upon him. Gentlemen, I have a wife some day I may have a daughter " 264 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " I hev tuo tochers at home already-yet," said a quiet little voice from a corner. " We all have children," said the wool-merchant sharply. " No, I haven't," exclaimed the travelling-man hur riedly. " In any event," continued the testy wool-merchant, " the judge distinctly charged that we were not to allow our sympathies to enter into the case, nor our preju dices," and he glared at the Irishman. " D'ye mane me ? " said Mr. Flanigan. " Oi have no pridijudices, so ye nade not luk that sour at me. My mind's sittled, an' at rist, so g'wan with the dischussion. I likes to hear yez talk." The juryman with the agreeable manner went over to Mr. Flanigan's side of the room, and drawing a chair up close within the circle of the aroma which came from the black pipe, began to talk to him in a quiet tone. Mr. Flanigan accepted his remarks cheerfully enough, being heard to interject from time to time: "But oi know," " G'wan now." " Now my bye, listen whilst I till ye." The young man with the white carnation, who had been looking repeatedly and anxiously at his watch for some time past, now rose, went to the door and knocked. "Officer! "he called out. A key turned on the outside and the door was opened a few inches. " Have you agreed upon your verdict ? " asked r voice. " No, we can't agree ; I want to send a telegram home." " You can't do that." _ IN THE JURY ROOM 265 " Can't send a telegram to my wife! " cried the juror in consternation. " You must agree upon a verdict." " Just let me telephone up town " " Sorry, but you can't telephone. You can't come out until you agree," was the curt reply. " Say, officer, you send the message for me, will you ? " said the man in a wheedling tone. " Send it to: Mrs. I. N. Loveman, No. 106 " The door closed relentlessly. The young juryman turned and faced his colleagues. " Gentlemen, this is an outrage! Are we free American citizens, or are we malefactors and law-breakers? It is getting late, the hour is nearly eight. I am denied the right to com municate with my own home. Mrs. Loveman will be distracted. This has never happened before. I have been married two months " A ripple of laughter ran around the room. " I must find means to communicate with her," said the young man, not heeding the laughter. " I will re fer the matter to the judge," he exclaimed with decision. " Hie ! you officer." " The judge has gone home long ago," said the fore man unsympathetically. " Must I stay here all night? " cried Loveman, in great distress. " You will unless we can agree upon a verdict," said the broker sharply. " I'm all right," exclaimed the travelling-man gayly, " I'm a bachelor." " My young friend," said the broker, going up to the man with the white carnation, and taking him kindly by the arm, " let me give you a piece of advice. This is 266 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY your golden opportunity, use it. Don't try to send word. You will establish a precedent." The young man turned his shoulder to the broker, and dropped into a chair. " I was going to take my best girl to the theatre," said the foreman cheerfully, " got the tickets right here in my pocket. She is probably tearing her hair by this time, but I will wait here all night rather than have a miscarriage of justice." " You hear him ! " cried the newly married man bit terly. " He says he will stay here all night. My wife will go distracted." " No she won't," said the broker soothingly. " Say, but would it break your heart if you went home and found her sleeping peacefully ? " " Gentlemen ! " suddenly exclaimed the agreeable- mannered juryman. " Mr. Flanigan and I have been talking this case over between us. He was quite right about the price of that whiskey, entirely right, and he is undoubtedly a good judge of whiskey The speaker was suddenly interrupted by an explo sion near the window. " I can't help it," said the voice of the woolen mer chant. " I cannot stand a draught ! " " I don't care ! " replied the man who did not like tobacco, " I'm not going to be poisoned because you are afraid of fresh air." " I'm not going to get my death of cold for any body," cried the wool merchant, getting very heated. " I insist that the window be opened." " Insist as much as you like, you shall open it only over my dead body," declared the wool-merchant. " Gentlemen, order ! " rapped the foreman. " I must have air, I am growing ill ! " IN THE JURY ROOM 267 " Give him air ! Oh, give him air ! Give him any thing he wants, only let's agree upon a verdict, and get out of this place ! I'm tired ! I'm hungry ! " came as a chorus from all parts of the room. The grocer went over to the window and let it down at the top, while the woolen merchant retired to a fur ther corner sulkily, and turned up the collar of his coat. " I want to say right here," said the man who could not stand tobacco smoke, " that never before in my life have I been subjected to such indignities. This is my first experience in the jury-room, and I pray it may be the last. While here I have listened to profanity, and been unable to close my ears to it. I have been satu rated with foul tobacco smoke and unable to escape it. I have been obliged to listen to the stories of some of the j urors " - here he looked at the travelling-man and at the broker such conversation is unknown in polite so ciety ; such conversation is entirely foreign to the case under consideration. I wish to state that I do not con sider the jury-room a fitting resort for a gentleman of refinement. I shall write a letter to the newspapers about it." " Will some wan plaze open that windy wider for the gintleman?" called out Mr. Flanigan. " Gentlemen ! " cried the foreman, pounding on the table, " we must discuss this case." The man with the pleasant manner took up the word where he had been obliged to drop it. " As I was saying, Mr. Foreman and gentlemen of the jury, Mr. Flanigan and I have gone over the case care fully together, and he has allowed me to set him right on one or two minor points. He was of course quite correct in regard to the price of the whiskey, but now that he recalls the use which Keating made of the whis- 268 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY key you will recollect that it was bought to be dis pensed among negroes at election time he wishes to reconsider his verdict. I have therefore to suggest that we take another ballot. Is not that in accordance with your view, Mr. Flanigan? " " It is, me bye. That chape whiskey wuz good enuf fur thim naygurs. I trimble whin oi think how near oi made a miscarriage of justice. We'll now take an- uther ballot and sind up Cadwell ; begorra, twinty years fur him ! " " We don't fix the penalty," said the wool merchant, " the judge sentences him." " Bedad, an' he should give him a loife wan ! Cam on byes, let's git in the vote, and git out of this, I must have a dhrink." " One moment! " said the travelling-man. " I meant to ask this before; what was the name of that young woman who testified ? " " Ah, niver mind her," said Flanigan. " It's not that kind of a case." " That reminds me of a story " began the broker. " Let us hear it," cried the travelling-man. " I protest ! " said the man with the white carnation. " So do I," said the man by the window. " I refuse to listen to any more of your stories, sir. I warn you that I shall repeat them all to his Honor the judge." " Mr. Foreman," interposed the man with the agree able manner, " will you kindly announce the result of this last ballot?" " The result is : guilty, eleven ; not guilty, one." There was silence in the jury-room. " Where's that wan ? " said Flanigan ominously, look ing around slowly. IN THE JURY ROOM 269 " I'll bet somebody has been fixed all right ! " said the travelling man. " Gentlemen," said a quiet man, who had not as yet spoken, " I'm a plumber, but I'm an honest man. I voted for conviction." " I wanter know," burst out Flanigan, " who put that * not ghuilty ' in the hat ; that's all I wanter know." The small man with the bushy red whiskers rose. He was trembling slightly. " I did." " Yer little rid fox, ye, an' why did ye do it, whin we waz all agreein' so f oine ? " " Because I reject Keating's testimony in toto; I re fuse to give it any weight. I shall stay here forever ; / shall never change." " Oh, don't be the odd man. Don't be the obstinate juror!" called several jurors beseechingly. The man with the red whiskers closed his mouth with a snap, and sat down. " We shall have to discuss the case," said the wool merchant wearily. " I'm goin' home," said Flanigan in disgust. " Ye can sittle it amung ye." Mr. Flanigan put his pipe in his pocket, picked up his hat and went to the door. To his lusty poundings there returned only the reverbera tions of an empty corridor. He turned with a broad smile. " Bedad, we're locked up fur the noight. Ye'll not go home till mornin', my baby-bye," he laughed, slapping the back of the man whose white carnation was now drooping in his buttonhole. " Come, Mr. Flanigan," said the man with the pleas ant manners. " Sit down with us and discuss." "Discuss nothing, byes; I'm done with yez. I'm done fur good. I'm going to slape." Taking off his coat for a pillow, and tipping his chair back against the 270 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY wall, Mr. Flanigan composed his mobile countenance, while the other jurors began to reason with the odd man. For over an hour the little man with the red whiskers was bombarded with argument which turned into denun ciation, and from denunciation into abuse. The more he was reasoned with the quieter he got, and the more he retired into his corner the more decided became the ex pression on his mouth. Finally they all gave up from sheer exhaustion, and quiet reigned in the jury-room, broken only by the heavy breathing of Flanigan, and jingle of coins where the broker, the fancy goods and the travelling-man were matching " honest quakers " in the corner. The man with the agreeable manners got up and went over to the corner where the recalcitrant juror sat. " I won't listen to any further insults," snapped the red-whiskered little man. " I've been accused of every known crime in the calendar. I will stay here all night before I yield." " You will stay longer than that, I fear," replied the other pleasantly. " Why, won't the judge discharge us in the morning when he finds we can't agree?" " Not while we are eleven to one. We shall have to remain here until we do agree." " I must get away by noon to-morrow," said the stub born juror, rubbing his red whiskers. " I'm a real estate dealer, and I have a big deal on." " You had better call it off right now, for you will be right in this jury-room," was the cheerful reply. " Do you really think so ? " asked the real estate dealer nervously, as the other left him to himself. A new day was coldly dawning outside, throwing a faint light through the dingy window panes into the IN THE JURY ROOM 271 cheerless room, when the juror who had acted as moder ator got up from his chair, and came forward. " What's the matter? " asked Flanigan, rubbing his eyes ; " is it toime to get up ? " " Gentlemen," said the moderator, " I want to make a final appeal to you. We have been brought here for a serious purpose. However unpleasant it may be, we must face the issue. We have got to pass upon the inno cence or guilt of the defendant ; the question of his pun ishment rests in other hands. The united judgment of eleven men is more likely to point toward the right than the conclusions of one man, however strong they may be, and however intelligent he may be " here he glanced at the red-whiskered man. " Everyone is, however, the keeper of his own conscience, and I merely make the mo tion that each of us rise and give the verdict which in his conscience he believes to be the true and just one." The foreman rapped for order, and the weary jurors drew up to the table; their faces, touched by the pallid light of early morning, looked gray and haggard. One after another the twelve peers of Thomas Cadwell rose and uttered the word which held his fate, and even the voice of the volatile Irishman had in it a touch of solemnity. A hush followed, as if in the hearts of these twelve men so widely different in habit, thought and social rank there was a common throb of sympathy for the man they had condemned. The sky was aglow with crimson as they went out in the custody of the court officers to pass the remaining hours before the convening of the court, at a nearby hotel. The wool merchant, the broker and the man with the pleasant manners walked across the square together, accompanied by the wide-awake Flanigan. 272 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " He was guilty," remarked the wool merchant, look ing toward the eastern sky thoughtfully. To this sup plemental verdict two of the others gave a quiet assent. They were tired out. " He was that," said Flanigan gaily, " an' it's a foine thing for the People and this common wilth, which we hear so much about an' niver git any uv, that we sint him up to do his toime. But say, byes, wan thing, wuz ony uv yez iver on a jury with twelve such lobsters in all yer loif e ? " 18 CHAPTER XXIX THE SINS OF THE FATHER On that Spring morning when the court reassembled to learn the verdict, the sun, shining through the high windows, touched the dingy old room with warmth and color, while it exposed more vividly the marred furnish ings and the worn oilcloth on the floor. The judge had taken his place. Mr. Brower, with a red flower in his buttonhole, and the District Attorney with a very serious face, came into the room almost at the same time, while the benches were rapidly filling with spectators. Thomas Cadwell was also in his place, carefully dressed and well-groomed, but there were circles about the eyes telling of a night of racking anxiety, and under the drooping brown moustache his mouth worked nerv ously. Under his red flower and white vest Brower felt nerv ous, too, and fingered a volume of the criminal code as it lay on the table. Helen sat by her father. She was so confident of his acquittal that she had overruled the united objections of her family, had even disregarded his expressed wish, and had come to witness his triumphant vindication. As she sat there, under the strain of waiting, the solemn faces of the jurors, the gravity of the judge in his black robe, the atmosphere of expectancy and suspense which pervaded the court, all served to send a chill to her heart, 273 274 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY although she repeated to herself over and over that in a few minutes the long, cruel suspense would be at an end, and he would be free. Strong in the hope which she had fostered, she smiled at him, and, leaning over, whis pered a word of encouragement in his ear. She did not know the effort which it cost him to smile back at her, for Brower, at that moment, had whispered in his other ear: " A disagreement is all we can hope for. I had ex pected an acquittal, but they were out too long." " Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon your verdict? " asked the judge. " We have," said the foreman in a high-keyed voice, feeling more excited than upon the day he sold his first case of goods. Brower did not dare to look at his client. The stillness of the room was so painful that Billy Finn blew his nose to relieve the tension. " The jury find the defendant guilty." " No, not guilty! Innocent ! He is innocent ! " Helen was on her feet. She did not know that she had spoken aloud in court. She confronted the jury with a look of horror and bewilderment on her face. Her voice was like an electric shock to every one in the court-room, and every eye was turned upon her. The venerable judge looked down at her, surprised at the unusual interrup tion. " Father ! " she moaned, as a realization of the verdict came to her. The one word touched every heart in the room. An officer of the court, shocked at this breach of cus tom, started forward, but before he could get to her side, Charles caught his sister by the arm, and led her into THE SINS OF THE FATHER 275 the next room, leaving Thomas Cadwell with a heart as cold as if the hand of death had already touched it. There was not one among the spectators who, from the bottom of his heart, did not wish that he could change the verdict. There was not one present, from the judge on the bench to the jury and the lawyers on either side, who, hearing that cry, did not wish from the bottom of his heart that the verdict could have been otherwise. Billy Finn turned to Connor. " I wish I'd lost that five hundred, Doc." Thomas Cadwell sat in the court room with bowed head. Brower put his hand on his arm. " I shall make a motion for a new trial," he whispered, sympathetically. " Helen," murmured his client, " I want to go to her." They permitted him to go into the adjoining room, where Charles had placed her in a chair, and was stand ing near her. She had not fainted, and rose quickly as he entered. " Father ! " she cried, and she was in his arms. She was not hysterical. For a few moments she did not speak, but with the pressure of her arms around him, she told him that she believed in him. She did not weep, but the man's frame shook, and the tears rolled down his cheeks. " Father ! " she said, throwing back her head to look into his face, and speaking with a strength and calmness which came to her spirit in the hour of its need, " I want you to know how much I love you." He could not an swer her ; he could only take her hand, and hold it tightly in his own. " I do not understand why they have done this. It is all so cruelly unjust, so horribly unreal, I cannot under stand it ! " she cried. 276 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Gaining a little more control over himself, he replied hoarsely : " We shall fight this, Helen. Mr. Brower is already taking steps " Why did that District Attorney not die ? " she cried suddenly. " Why does God let such men live? You will beat them, won't you, father? " " Yes," he murmured. " Now you must go, Helen, they are waiting for me in the next room. Charles will take you home in the carriage. You must go home, dear child." " I can't bear to leave you ! I can't bear to leave you ! " she cried, clinging to him. " Helen, please go ! You should not have come. They should not have let you come like this. Don't make it harder for me ! " " Do I make it harder for you ? " she cried, starting back and looking into his face. " No, no, dear, I don't know what I am saying. Only go now. Please go with Charles." " I will," she said quietly, struggling to keep back the tears. Before she had reached the door she turned and ran swiftly back to him for one last embrace. " They will let me I shall see you again, soon ? " " Yes, yes." " I know I did right to come," she said, trying to smile bravely at him. " I want you to know that " she paused an instant " even if you had done that which some say you have done, I should have come just the same. You would be just the same, always the same to me." He stooped and hurriedly kissed her, then turned quickly and went into the other room in fear that she should see his face. Charles stepped through the door with him. THE SINS OF THE FATHER 277 " I'll take her back. Don't you worry. She should never have come anyway," he added with irritation. Cadwell seized his hand and said brokenly : " Don't ever let her know for God's sake, Charlie we must never let her know ! " Charles went back, and, taking his sister on his arm, led her out to the carriage with a tenderness new in him. She went with him in silence, her veil over her face. When they were in the carriage she threw herself on his shoulder, and cried as if her heart would break, while he tried to console her as best he knew how. In the court room, Mr. Brower, now quite himself again, made the usual motion for a new trial. The judge thanked the jury for the painstaking and intelligent way in which they had followed the case and arrived at a verdict, and dismissed them to their various homes and occupations. The spectators drifted away to their various homes and occupations, and at last Thomas Cadwell, debaucher of the Commonwealth, betrayer of civic trust, enemy of the State, took his place, not in the Senate of the country he had disgraced, but in jail. CHAPTER XXX OLD SAMUEL AND HIS SON The District Attorney left the court-room feeling no elation over his victory. The daughter's voice was ring ing in his ears, and although he knew Cadwell to be guilty, the cry had entered deep into his heart. That morning he had received a note from Samuel Haverland, couched in his usual formal style, asking that his son honor him by a visit, and many times during the day this communication came to his mind, and he could not help wondering what his father would have to say. He closed his desk at an earlier hour than usual, sent a telegram to his own home, and set out to answer the summons. Samuel Haverland had retired to a favorite country seat about fifty miles from the city. There were less than two hundred acres of the estate, with a handsome, mod ern mansion surrounded by green lawns and a fairyland of gardens which had been created out of a wilderness of rock and abandoned land by that touch which is more potent than the magician's wand. Back of the large, new house, a half mile or so, hidden by the woodland between, was an old-fashioned farm house and an old-fashioned farm, where the water came up from the well by a long sweep, and the barn, painted a dull red, was joined to the house by a woodshed. Around the house, except in a small enclosure for flow ers, ducks and chickens exercised their inalienable right to cackle and scratch at will. 278 OLD SAMUEL AND HIS SON 279 Few knew of this retreat. Few had ever seen it, and here it was that Samuel Haverland could retire within himself and from the world. Richard knew the place well, for he had played there as a boy, but none knew it so well as Samuel Haverland, for here he had been bom, and here he had spent his boyhood. He had fenced in the hundred odd acres with high barbed wire; the old roads were obliterated and the only way by which the farm could be reached was by a lane which traversed a corner of the park. All the old farms in the vicinity having passed away to make room for the finer places of the wealthy, Samuel Haverland held his old farm intact and hidden, to his secret joy. This farm he had given over to the charge of a now elderly couple; the man had been a schoolmate of his boyhood. The house had been divided, Haverland re taining uninvaded privacy of the sitting-room and the upper bed-rooms, though sometimes of an evening he would steal into the kitchen, and there, with chair tipped back, and with the shadows of the fire-light playing on the walls, as he had seen them play so many times before, he lived over for a space, days that otherwise had vanished forever into the swift and ceaselessly re ceding past. It was in the long, low-studded sitting-room that Richard found his father. Samuel Haverland had al ways carried his years easily, but as he got up from the sofa and held out a thin hand, Richard was struck all of a sudden by his old age. His body, which had been straight and as enduring as steel wire, was now held much less erect, and Richard noticed that the vitality which had always kindled the face, had vanished, leaving it colorless, but at the same time less austere. A look 280 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY of compassion came to the son's face as he took the cold hand. " I have been ill, Richard," said his father. " I have been quite ill for one of my active habits, but I am much better," and he sat down heavily. " I am shocked to see how ill you look, sir," began Richard with sympathy. " Oh, I shall be all right again as soon as I get back to business," exclaimed the old man quickly, straighten ing up. " A few days of idleness make me very rusty, but once back in the harness I shall be all right." " Your letter said nothing about your illness," con tinued Richard apologetically, as he took a chair near him. His father waved his hand, dismissing the subject with something of his old manner. " I never thought that I should send and ask you to come to me," he went on, with an attempt at a smile, " but you see it is so." Richard sat silently watching his father's face; he noticed that his eyes were brighter and deeper than ever. " So you convicted Cadwell," began old Samuel ab ruptly, looking at his son piercingly. " The jury, after being out all night, brought in a verdict of guilty." " It was your doing ; another might have failed, or allowed him to be acquitted. You convicted him." The District Attorney's face was immovable. " They will fight for a new trial," said Haverland, looking closely at his son. " I shall, of course, do all I can to keep Thomas Cad- well in jail," replied the District Attorney. " Nothing that I could have said or done would have influenced you; nothing I can say or do will influence OLD SAMUEL AND HIS SON 281 you if the opportunity occurs to be a little len ient ? " asked his father searchingly . The District Attorney shook his head. " I regret to say, no." " I was sure of it, so I did not ask it," was the re joinder. " You know," said Richard, " I did not seek this posi tion ; it came to me through a chain of events not alone of my own forging. To begin with, you and I could not agree in business, so I took up the practice of my profession, the profession which you had chosen for me and in which you had had me trained." " I never intended that you should practice law," in terrupted old Samuel quickly. " The nomination came to me unsought, and the office was thrust upon me by a sudden and unexpected turn of the wheel of fate, but once in, I could do nothing but go ahead. You, of all men, must know that. Then came these bribery cases. I could not run from them. Having once taken up the matter, I studied it. I saw Thomas Cadwell buying legislation as he needed it. I saw him buying his way into the Senate to gratify his ambition. I could not catch him buying his way into office, he and his agents were too careful in that bigger game. But I did catch him tripping in his transactions with the smaller men, men whom he despised, and so he fell and lost the bigger game." Old Samuel was silent. The evening had closed in while they were talking and neither had thought, or neither had wished, for a light. " I saw more than this," continued the District At torney quietly, but with a quiver in his voice that his THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY listener could not fail to note ; " behind Thomas Cadwell I saw you ! " Samuel Haverland, intent upon every word, keeping his bright eyes fixed upon his son's face, which was growing less distinct in the increasing shadow, did not start. " I knew that you were aware of his misdeeds ; I knew that you profited by them, and still I kept on. I also saw that you had always kept yourself aloof from the tangible; I saw that you would not be liable, criminally liable, for what had been done, for what was being done." It was perhaps as well for Samuel Haverland that the growing shadows hid the expression on the face before him. " And if you had found that I, as well as Cadwell, had been criminally liable, as you call it, would you still have kept on ? " he asked with great composure. Richard was silent. " I am curious to know what you would have done under other circumstances," persisted Samuel Haverland. " I will not answer." " You have put Cadwell in prison," said Samuel Hav erland, slowly getting up from his chair and walking across the room. " He was a valuable man to me." " Yes," said the District Attorney coldly. " He is where he belonged." His manner softened as he added: " I have deep sympathy for his wife and daughter." Old Samuel did not answer directly. He had gone to the table and was busy over a lamp. He seemed to be having some difficulty in lighting it; either his fingers trembled or he could not find the little wheel which raises the wick. Finally he succeeded, struck a match, OLD SAMUEL AND HIS SON 283 trimmed the wick, and replaced the chimney carefully. When he faced about he spoke in his natural tone. " I, too, am sorry for them, exceedingly sorry. It is a great blow. Here is a man of wonderfully resource ful nature put where he can be of no use in the world." " There are other men of equally resourceful nature where he is to-day. He should have remained honest," said the District Attorney. " It was impossible," replied old Samuel. " I mean it was impossible under existing conditions for Cadwell to act otherwise than he did Why do you look at me like that? " he said, interrupting himself. " You are not prosecuting Cadwell now." Richard averted his gaze. His father continued : " He was ambitious ; he wanted to make a national reputation for himself; to go to the Senate and make a great name." " A noble ambition," said the District Attorney, " and he set about it worthily." " But he got it," exclaimed his father quickly. " He was successful. He got the office ! " " And he is now where he can enjoy the fruits of his ambition with perfect safety to the State," remarked the District Attorney grimly. " And you have deprived me of a very valuable man," said old Samuel. " I trust Cadwell, that is, I trusted him more than any of the others. I needed him, and now you have taken him away." " I am sorry," replied the District Attorney dryly. " I can't blame you," replied his father. " It was all in the line of your business, and you were successful." There was a touch of pride in his tone. " Richard," he went on, leaning forward and fixing him with his bril liant eyes, " you have the secret of success. You have 284 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY the power of making other men see with your eyes. You bend them to your will, quietly, irresistibly, without their knowing it. You and I together could work wonderful things. I feel that I am growing old; here alone with you I will admit it. There is a younger group of men trying to drive me into a subordinate position, while they get to the front. They are led by Craig. I have broken with Craig; he is a traitor. They have not forced me back, as yet, although they have touched me a little. Reinforced by your brain and your courage, I could defeat them. You and I could put them right under our thumbs." Richard was silent. " Richard, I need you. I have schemes greater than any which have gone before, but alone I lack the vitality to put them into execution. You and I together could ride over all who oppose us. We could become the domi nant factors of the country. Think of that ! Think of the success which lies before us, which lies before you, for it is in you that I shall live. It is only in you that I can hope to live." Richard was silent. " That's right, think it over carefully. You have a masterful mind, this must appeal to it. Remember, I yield to you, you shall be first. I shall be behind you with the experience gathered in long years, and help you win such success as only you and I together can win." Old Samuel had spoken with intensity, his whole soul entering into what he said. " I cannot," replied Richard. "You, a Haverland, say that?" exclaimed old Sam uel. " I won't believe it. Are you always going to be content to throw away your great abilities in a petty OLD SAMUEL AND HIS SON 285 public office. You cannot do that. But what I want you to do, you can do, and you must do, Richard you must." " I cannot purchase the success you offer at the price," replied Richard. " The price is no greater than you are paying every day. You give all your time and energy to the public service for a paltry salary. I do not ask for more than all your time, more than all your energy and intellect, and the reward is worth it." " I cannot pay the price of my soul," replied Richard. "Your soul?" said old Samuel. "What has that got to do with it? I was putting a business proposition to you, and you branch off about souls." " That is the point at issue," replied Richard. " I told you several years ago that I could not do what you were doing. I cannot afford to give my soul for the success which you offer in return." " Do you mean," asked old Samuel, very distinctly, " that you think that I have lost my soul ? " Richard's face was turned towards his father's, and the two men looked deep into each other's eyes. " I did not say that," replied Richard slowly. " I said that I could not do what you had done, and retain mine. M I have always tried to be a good Christian," said old Samuel. He got up from his sofa and stood on the hearth rug. The evening air was cool, or his blood was depleted, for he shivered. Taking a match from the mantel, he ignited the wood which had been laid on the hearth. " I have always tried to be a good Christian," he repeated slowly to himself, watching the crackling 286 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY flames. " If I had not done what I have, other men would." He half turned towards Richard, and the fire-glow on his face strong in spite of the relentless marks of age and illness put a touch of life into his cheeks. " Yes," assented Richard, " other men would." Old Samuel spread out his palms to the grateful blaze. " Craig and Cadwell and the rest of them, even Cotton, would willingly have stood in my shoes, but they have never been able to. I would not let them. They think that they have been successful. I have been." And he opened and closed his hands before the fire. " I have stood above them all, and shall while I live." His eyes shone like the embers. " While I live," and he drew nearer to the fire. " But when I am gone " he mur mured, pushing the burning pieces of wood together with the poker. " That is the reason I sent for you. I want you to hear all I have to say." " I am listening," said Richard. " I will change my will. As it stands, my estate is divided. Mildred, her children, and other relatives, get the major part of it. I have also left large bequests to charities and public institutions, but I will change all that. You shall have every penny of it if you will only come back to me now. Is it a bargain ? " Samuel Haverland had spoken in a low tone, hiding the intensity of his feelings by frequent stirring of the fire. " I cannot," replied Richard. Old Samuel threw down the poker and turned upon him: " You can, you shall! " he cried, raising his voice. " All I have labored for must not be in vain. My great success it must not end in failure ! " . " It is failure," answered Richard. OLD SAMUEL AND HIS SON 287 " What do you mean by that? " exclaimed old Samuel excitedly. Richard was leaning forward looking into the fire. " I should be glad to get your views," contin ued his father in his self-contained manner. Richard raised his head. " You and I do not seem to understand the word alike. What you call success to me is failure. When you are gone your schemes will fall as quickly as that flame which a moment ago was roaring up the chimney, and which has now dropped to a feeble flicker since you stopped feeding it. Success bred in corruption and tainted with dishonor cannot en dure. Success, which has exploited the country for its own selfish ends, and degraded the Republic, cannot en dure. It is not success. It is failure ! " Old Samuel's face could not grow paler, but his lip trembled as he answered : " You do not understand, Richard, you do not under stand, or in my old age you would not turn against me." " I do not turn against you. I simply cannot accom pany you, that is all." Old Samuel was silent. Richard got up from his chair. His father watched him without speaking. " I think," said his son, " that if I start now I can get home this evening." " Why not stay here ? You are not a stranger here." Richard glanced about the sitting-room. " You are perfectly comfortable here? " he inquired. " We can both be perfectly comfortable. I always manage to have the simple comforts here." " I was not thinking of myself, but of you. I prefer to go home to-night." There was that in his manner which made old Samuel tremble a little more. 288 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY " Do you mean " he faltered, " I thought it was agreed between us you and I that though we might differ on some points, we were to remain on friendly terms." Richard answered with an effort. " That was before I knew all that I have since learned. To-night, as I sat here, a voice has been ringing in my ears : ' He is inno cent ! ' If you had heard it as I heard it ! He was not innocent, he was guilty. It is better that I say good- bye!" Old Samuel spoke rapidly : " Thomas Cadwell took his chances. He chose his own course. I did not follow him through all the intricacies of his private business. It is unfair to charge me with the knowledge of his methods. You must not leave me in this way." " I cannot help it," replied Richard sadly. " For the present, at least, I must say goodbye," and he turned away. Old Samuel sat on the sofa with his face in his hands. With an effort he rose and called : " Richard ! " His son stopped on the threshold. " You must listen to me. I must talk to you to-night, for I am ill. I have not long to live." Richard started. " I do not say that I have a mortal illness, but I feel that I have not long to live. The sands of my life are running out. Ambition has held me up, but now you have killed my ambition." His frame shook with emotion. His son, thinking that he was suffering bodily pain, started towards him. At that moment his father looked at him with the yearning expression in his eyes which sometimes came to them, and spoke with superhuman effort : " You cannot know what it is to feel and be unable to give an OLD SAMUEL AND HIS SON 289 expression to your feelings. Many times during my life when I would have spoken it was as if something took hold of me within and forced me to be silent." " I understand," said Richard. " Perhaps it is because I feel the world slipping from me that I can speak to-night. Richard, you have always been the child of my heart. It has always seemed as if you were a part of my inner self, part of my soul. You were my son, mme! I have always loved you." Richard took him by the hand and led him to his seat. " I have tried to do right," said his father. " Some things which I have done may seem wrong, judged by other standards, but to me they were right. I was not as other men. I had to be supreme or I could not live. There was that within me which drove me forward." " I understand," said his son quietly. " A little while ago you said something about losing one's soul," continued old Samuel, his fingers picking at the covering of the lounge. " Do you think that I have lost mine? " " I said that I should have lost mine. I did not sit in judgment upon yours. That is for you to do, not for me." There was a pause. The silence was broken only by the vague noises which come in the stillness of the night. Old Samuel's cold hand sought for warmth in the hand of his son. " Do not go now, Richard," he plead ed, " and leave me alone." " I will not go." " All my life it seems as if I had been alone. Men seemed to dislike, or to fear to come too close to me. I did not encourage familiar friendship. But I always wanted you near me; but somehow even you never came close to me, and I was always alone. Then came our 19 290 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY misunderstanding and separation. I could not yield to you then. You would not give in, and I was left alone. Don't go now. It seems as though I could not bear to be left alone, now." " I will stay." The fire in the hearth had burned out. Old Samuel shivered. " Are you cold, father? " asked the son. " I am tired, more than cold. I get tired so early in the evening these days. If I could get back into the harness perhaps I would be stronger. I don't know; but I am very tired." Richard Haverland stooped down and lifted his father in his arms and carried him upstairs. CHAPTER XXXI OLD SAMUEL The Spring passed into early Summer, and old Sam uel did not get back into harness. He had his bed pushed near the open window, so that he could look out upon the farm during the hours of the day, and seemed to have lost all interest in the larger world outside. The routine work of his office was carried on mechan ically by the faithful Walters and an active corps of clerks, but the dust gathered upon his desk and well- worn office chair, while a hundred half-built schemes fell to the ground. William Craig walked about with a firmer tread and pushed certain plans of his own unhindered, but old Samuel had ceased to care. The family had been summoned, and had been ready for some time, but still he clung to life with that tenacity with which he had clung to everything all through life. His wife was there to help nurse him, but he needed little extra care. His daughter-in-law, Mildred, came also, and spent a month of seclusion in this quiet country place, which benefited her greatly; and her two little girls played all over the farm with intense delight. To them the old red barn was a castle of mysteries. The grain bins were dungeons, and the harness-room an armory. In the dusty carriage-room they kept their chariot and six. The steeds were always harnessed, champing the bit, and ready to whirl them through dark forests where robbers lay in wait, or across wide Russian Steppes with wolves howling at their wheels. 291 292 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Another favorite spot was under the trees in front of the house, where they invented a new game every hour, in which the barnyard ducks and chickens, the house cat and the faithful dog took active, and more or less re luctant, parts. From his couch at the window old Sam uel could see them here, and on pleasant days he would lie and watch them by the hour, listening intently for their voices when they ran around the corner of the house or disappeared into the barn. Richard came out every few days, and toward the end brought his wife and child. Mrs. Haverland welcomed her daughter-in-law lovingly, and old Samuel's eyes were brighter at the sight of his grandson. He wanted Rich ard with him always, and, as much as possible, Richard was at his side. The old man's mind was clear, and he complained of no pain, but the sands of life were run ning swiftly out. " Do not leave me alone," he whispered pleadingly. And during many hours Richard was there. It was in the morning; the time of day and the time of year when the earth is quickened with new life. He had his couch rolled as usual close to the window. Mil dred's children were playing in a bit of woodland a little distance from the house. Someone would have checked them, but old Samuel forbade it with a movement of his finger. " Do not leave me," his lips framed ; " do not leave me alone," and Richard held his hand. On the Summer air, over the meadow, up into the quiet of the room came the fresh young voices, so pure and sweet that they sounded like the voices of angels calling to the souls of men. Instinctively the feeble body turned toward the light, but old Samuel could not see it. He held his son's hand tightly, while his soul passed into another world, alone. CHAPTER XXXII THE LAST Thomas Cadwell remained in jail because of his failure to secure a new trial. He heard of his old associate's death with indifference. His own miseries weighed too heavily upon him to permit of any great expenditure of sympathy. Helen was ill, and could not get to see him, and his heart was torn at the thought of her. William Craig was too busy buying stocks on the slump caused by the death of the old financial lion, to spend any time for grief, and when he had finished buy ing he found he had acquired such a line of " good things " that he could do little else but smile, for Craig aspired to be the biggest financial lion of them all. Mildred Haverland became one of the richest widows in the land, and her two poor little girls, with their thin legs showing pathetically below their new black frocks, were overburdened with fortune. However, they did not mind it, and played happily whenever they got an op portunity. When Cherida Delafield heard that Fortuna's horn had been turned full over the head of her one-time bosom friend, she felt a slight pang of envy. Cherida was also a widow. She had gotten her decree. Frank Delafield had either dropped his bones upon some lost Klondike trail, or if he had brought them back to civilization he had concealed them under another name. In either event the court had declared him dead. 293 294 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 'Charles Cadwell really wanted to marry her. Now that she had forbidden him her door, he missed the ex citement of her presence as a drunkard misses his ab sinthe. He was quite willing to forget and forgive, but she was heartily tired of him. Besides, she had become interested in an elderly bachelor, who had spent his life in putting by a competency for his old age, and who had a ball of several millions snugly rolled up in his nest. With this competency he now concluded that he had time to think of matrimony. Cherida did not give him time to think twice before she snatched him up, and deter mined to give Mildred a brush on the social speedway. Richard Haverland went back to his own home and took his mother with him. After the strain of her hus band's illness the change was a happy one for her. A new election was approaching, and as the District Attorney sat in his office Jacob Homer called to see him. The colonel was as irrepressible and as jaunty as ever. " Now, Mr. District Attorney, I want to ask you a question: Do you bear me any malice for any little misunderstandings in the past? " " None whatever, Colonel Horner." " Good ! I knew you did not. Now I want to say this : The Republican Convention is to be held next week, and say, Mr. Haverland, can I ask you a per fectly fair question ? " Richard nodded. " Certainly." " If you should get the nomination on a regular ticket would you agree to consult with the party leaders in regard to the running of your office? I mean in a fair way, of course, in a perfectly fair way. I'll do what's right, Haverland, and if you will meet me half way you shall have the nomination." " Well, Colonel Horner, the only pledge I can give THE LAST you is that I will try to improve on my past record." Jake Horner was silent. He thought of his friend Cadwell, who was in jail, and other friends who were out. " I'll think it over," he said, and departed. It was in the Democratic convention that the surprise came. Doc' Connor, who had run things so long that he did not know how to play a subordinate part, found to his astonishment that a new element had gotten control. Francis Thayer, at the head of a determined group of men, beat him at his own game on his own ground, forced the nomination of Richard Haverland by the reg ular Democratic party, and sent Eddie Featherstone fly ing into obscurity. After the convention had adjourned, Billy Finn sought his chief sympathetically. " Are you going to bolt, Doc? " he asked in a low tone. " Bolt ! " cried Doc' Connor in disgust. " No, sir ! I'm regular." He swallowed hard. " I'm for * Dick ' Haverland, the regular nominee for District Attorney. We'll put him in all right. He is popular with the people, and with the regular Democracy behind him his certificate of election is as good as made out." " Gee ! " exclaimed Finn ; " what d' yer think of us supporting the District Attorney ? I feel like I did that year the revival struck town." Old Silas Cotton felt the death of his patron more than he had ever felt anything. It hurt him keenly to see William Craig getting so wealthy. He traveled down to see Richard at his home. There were tears on his wrinkled cheeks as he took the young man's hand. " Richard, my boy, my heart aches. You should have had all the money, and you could have had it if you had only said the word. Oh, why didn't you? Just see what Craig is doing, and you might have been " his voice 296 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY choked " and now you've lost everything. Richard, your father was a good friend to me " Richard put his hand on old Silas's arm. " I'm glad you miss him," he said quietly, " but don't grieve for me. I've not lost everything. We are on the eve of an exciting election. My friend Thayer, here, will tell you that we feel somewhat confident of success. By the way, Cotton, you have never been down here before. I want to show you our boy, Hartley Haverland." Richard had not lost everything. He had gained the love and confidence of his fellow-man. He devoted to the Commonwealth the strength and ability which had been his inheritance from his father. And the people, always seeking " a man among men," recognized him, and fixed their choice upon him again and again. So he rose high in the service of the nation, and in this service he gave his best, not because it paid, but because within him dwelt the true spirit of Democracy. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. AU62JSSr SEP 2 13C7 FormL9-20m-7,'61(C1437s4)444 PS 3^37 Sage - S13$d District attor ney 3 1158 00479 1827 PS 3537 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A A 000254327