UBRARY 
 
 ^Unlvtnity of
 
 Stratagems and Spoils
 
 Stratagems and Spoils 
 
 Stories of Love and Politics 
 
 By 
 
 William Allen 
 
 Author of " Tfit Court of Boyville," " The Real Issue," Etc. 
 
 Illustrated 
 
 Charles Scribner s Sons 
 New York rr^^: 1901
 
 PS 
 
 Copyright, 1901, by 
 Charles Scrtbner s Sons 
 
 ROW DIBfCTORY 
 HEW YOX
 
 Co 
 
 TEE KANSAS CITY STAR 
 
 AN HONEST NEWSPAPER 
 AND TO 
 
 WILLIAM K. NELSON, JAMES B. RUNNION 
 THOMAS W. JOHNSTON, JR. 
 
 AND 
 
 ALEXANDER BUTTS 
 
 WHO MADE IT 
 
 THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY 
 DEDICATED
 
 PREFACE 
 
 THE novel, which was once a branch of 
 literature, recently has grown independent of 
 it, and has become a civilizing agency, with a 
 place as distinct and seemingly as permanent 
 as the press or the pulpit, or the theatre, or 
 the bar. The accepted motive of fiction seems 
 to be the love motive the affairs of the young 
 man and the young woman. The stories in 
 this volume are offered with an apology. 
 The love motive may not be dominant enough 
 in these tales to make them what they should 
 be ; yet the period of mating occupies but a 
 fleeting moment in the average life. A few 
 hours in a few days out of a few months in 
 a few years and it is over, and the serious 
 business of life begins. There are hours and 
 days and long years in the lives of men and 
 women wherein strong passions are excited 
 and great human interests are at stake. The
 
 PREFACE 
 
 ambition for power, the greed for mone} r , 
 the desire to win the game, the hunger for 
 fame, parental love, auger, friendship, revenge, 
 hate the primitive passions that move men 
 and the world powerfully certainly these 
 deserve as important a place in the chronicles 
 of the human animal as does the mating in 
 stinct, and surely there should be some ro 
 mance about the record of these primitive 
 passions. It is with this idea in view that 
 the stories in this volume are set in the field 
 of American politics, where every human 
 emotion finds as free play as it could have 
 found in the courts of the mediaeval kings. 
 Romance does not die in men when their 
 trouser-legs fall below their knees; nor in 
 women when they cease to fear abduction to 
 the baronial castle and the donjon keep. 
 Neither does the zest of life end when the 
 old shoes and the rice-shower strike the 
 hack. The bread-and-butter problem is as 
 thrilling as the diagram of the corrugated 
 course of true love. The history of the battle 
 of life in the sunlight is as full of sprightly 
 adventure of merry combat of bitter pathos as
 
 PREFACE 
 
 the little prologue to the battle-story in the 
 moonlight. These stories of American poli 
 tics hereinafter following are stories of men 
 and women of mature years and of that 
 ponderous folly which we call mature judg 
 ment. They were not consciously made good 
 men and women, nor bad but they were in 
 tended to be human. If those that are strong 
 show the running reader something of the 
 way to strength ; or if those that are weak 
 point a warning ringer across his path, then 
 these ink-and-paper people will not have lived 
 in vain. For the best any of us can do in this 
 world, even those of us who have the advan 
 tage of flesh and blood and do not have to 
 sit cramped between book-covers, is to make 
 our lives good examples. As for the precepts 
 which should go with the example, they have 
 been made these three thousand years, and, 
 Heaven knows, have been neglected and for 
 gotten, too, for that matter. 
 
 But to come to politics : There is much 
 scandalous talk by scantily informed people 
 about the corruption of politics. The truth 
 of the matter is : That politicians are about
 
 PREFACE 
 
 as honest in their business as storekeepers 
 are in their business, or lawyers are in their 
 business, or bankers or preachers, or day- 
 laborers, or farmers, or college professors, 
 are in their own callings. Of course, politi 
 cians are not so honest as lawyers imagine 
 they would be if they were preachers ; nor as 
 preachers fancy they would be if they were 
 storekeepers ; nor as storekeepers believe 
 they would be as lawyers. But, in the main, 
 the business or professional man has no 
 reason to despise the politician. For the poli 
 tician does not lie unless he is forced to by 
 another man s duplicity (which is the standard 
 in other vocations). He does not take bribes 
 except in ignorance as the business men and 
 the farmer and the preacher do every day of 
 their lives. And the politician, above all, does 
 not admire the cheat and the deceiver. The 
 political ideals of the average ward-caucus are 
 as high as the ideals in most other gatherings. 
 The brave man, who wins by raw courage and 
 shrewd directness and simple honesty, is 
 honored as sincerely and is as successful in 
 politics to-day as he is in any other branch
 
 of human endeavor, however exalted its crite 
 rion. The county convention of Douglas 
 County, Kansas, or of Kings County, New 
 York, is operated on a moral plane about 
 as high as the faculty politics of the average 
 University, or as that of the Church politics 
 of the various religious organizations. 
 
 In the business of politics we are all part 
 ners. The concern reflects the American 
 average. The man who does not participate 
 in the partnership who refuses to vote 
 merely drags down the average for an honest 
 negro or an active Polak or a capable Irish 
 emigrant to elevate. In the following stories 
 it will be found that the liar fails and the 
 honest man succeeds with about the regu 
 larity that liars fail and honest men succeed 
 in life ; while the ignorant flounder and the 
 strong man grows weary even as in life. The 
 complaint that they end unhappily may be 
 filed against these tales. To which this 
 affiant answereth : Life often ends unhappily. 
 They are intended to be as moral as life 
 these stories ; but no more so ; and if the} 7 
 teach anything probably it is what politics
 
 PKEFACE 
 
 and business and physical and intellectual 
 life teach : That it pays to speak the truth, to 
 be brave, to be kind, to be helpful. And 
 further deponent sayeth not.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Man on Horseback .... / 
 A Victory for the People . ... 45 
 "A Triumph s Evidence" . . . 8j 
 
 The Mercy of Death 141 
 
 A Most Lamentable Comedy .
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 "/ // see that every bouse in Brookdale 
 
 Park is Open to you, " . . . Frontispiece 
 
 Facing 
 page 
 
 " But wbaf you -want to do is to get 
 
 right with the people," 24 
 
 "Well, Joab, wbat is it?" was her 
 
 greeting, 38 
 
 The Governor looked up and said, " Well, 
 
 Senator ?" 54 
 
 She waited until tbe stenographer bad 
 
 left tbe room, 74 
 
 " Wbat you fellers want is to work 
 twenty-four hours a day and twenty- 
 six on Sunday," 206,
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 ESIDE the Missouri Kiver there is a busy 
 i__) city. At the outskirts of the city there 
 is a beautiful suburb called Brookdale Park. 
 In Brookdale Park there is a wide lawn, shad 
 ed here and there by tall elm-trees. Upon 
 the wide lawn there is a sprawling gray stone 
 castle. In the great castle there is a room, 
 lined with leather and decorated with long 
 rows of books, most of which stand in un 
 broken sets. In one of the books a fat book 
 bound in morocco is the steel-engraved pict 
 ure of a man with scraggly, unkempt beard and 
 keen dark eyes. The picture shows the man 
 wearing a black string necktie and a Prince 
 Albert coat, after the exact fashion of the coats 
 and ties in all the other pictures in the book. 
 Under the picture is a cramped fac-simile of 
 a signature written with a stub-pen, without 
 a curve or flourish. On the opposite page is 
 the title of the volume, " Makers of the Mighty 
 3
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 West," and near it is the page number, 983, 
 and then follows this sketch : 
 
 " JOAB T. BARTON FINANCIER. 
 
 "Joab Teal Barton was born in Huron 
 County, Ohio, in 1838, of poor but honest pa 
 rents. He was educated in the country schools 
 and spent a few months in Miami Academy 
 before the breaking out of the war. He en 
 tered the 27th Regiment of Ohio Volunteers 
 and served his country four years, taking part 
 in the battles of the Wilderness and in the 
 campaign that ended at Appomattox Court 
 House. He came west at the close of the war, 
 and 1866 found him at Hannibal, Missouri, 
 where, being without employment and funds, 
 he accepted a position as brakeman on the 
 Hannibal and St. Joe Railroad. Promotions 
 came rapidly, and three years later as a con 
 ductor Mr. Barton ran the first train into Den 
 ver. A year later he was made trainmaster, 
 and in 1872 he was superintendent of the Mis 
 souri Valley Division of the Hannibal and St. 
 Joe, and in 1875 he became traffic manager of 
 the Corn Belt system when it was known as 
 the Leavenworth and Solomon Valley. The 
 road at that time began at the Missouri River," 
 4
 
 THE MAN ON HOBSEBACK 
 
 and, as its directors used to say, " lost itself 
 in the sage-brush " near what is now Abilene. 
 To-day, when Joab T. Barton, President and 
 General Manager of the close corporation 
 which controls this mighty national highway, 
 issues a system pass, it is good from the Great 
 Lakes to the Pacific, and from the Missouri 
 River to the Gulf. 
 
 " But the management of this vast enter 
 prise consumes only a part of the man s en 
 ergy. Being public spirited, he organized the 
 company which was granted the franchise for 
 the water-works system that his home city en 
 joys, and his efforts were instrumental in get 
 ting Eastern capital to put down the first 
 street railway in the city in 1876. That street 
 railway was operated by three mules, yet it 
 was the beginning from which the magnificent 
 transportation system known as the West Side 
 Electric Railway sprang. This is one of the 
 enterprises to which Mr. Barton gives much 
 of his attention. He is also a large owner of 
 the stock of the Missouri Valley Gas Heating 
 and Electric Company, and his real estate 
 holdings are found all over the city. 
 
 " Personally the subject of this sketch is 
 quiet and unassuming. He shrinks from pub- 
 5
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 licity, and prefers the society of his intimate 
 friends to the hubbub attendant upon a politi 
 cal career. He has fixed convictions, and cares 
 nothing for the plaudits of the multitude. He 
 is said to be a loyal ally and a sleepless en 
 emy. In 1870 he married Miss Mary Stone 
 at Denver, and one child, George M., born in 
 1872, is the fruit of this union." 
 
 Now it may be proved easily that Joab T. 
 Barton owned this book, this room, this house, 
 and this lawn. For all practical purposes 
 he owned the soul of Brookdale Park, and 
 there were five ably edited newspapers in 
 the city which insisted that Joab T. Barton 
 might as well have a warranty deed to the 
 city, and there were two hundred thousand 
 people who were supposed to go to bed at 
 night in the belief that when they got up in 
 the morning they might find that " Old 
 Joab," as they called him, had dug up and 
 carted away the Missouri River. For Barton 
 was the town bogy-man. 
 
 People blamed him for every evil thing that 
 happened in the community. If a bank failed, 
 they said Old Joab wrecked it. If a street-car 
 killed a man, Old Joab was committing his 
 daily homicide. If men couldn t pay their 

 
 THE MAN ON HOESEBACK 
 
 bills at the end of the month, they laid their 
 failures to Old Joab s extortionate charges for 
 light and water. At different times he had 
 been called an octopus, an incubus, a vampire, 
 and a hydra-headed monster. 
 
 As for Mrs. Barton (she that was Mary 
 Stone) she never read the papers, even though 
 her husband bought one type, presses, editor 
 and all that the family might enjoy the news 
 of the day without wading through columns 
 filled with abuse of the head of the household. 
 Under the circumstances, the purchase of the 
 newspaper was a wanton waste of money, for 
 young George M. Barton read all the other 
 papers at the club, and enjoyed the remarks 
 about his father immensely. The young man 
 did not take his father seriously. Young Bar 
 ton played chess in the middle of the day and 
 refused to go to meetings of directors where 
 he didn t know the rules of the game, and 
 often renigged and did other embarrassiDg 
 things. He drank some hot, rebellious liquor, 
 but not too much, and winked pleasantly at 
 policemen who had been of service to him. 
 He knew the names of the street-car conduc 
 tors and the elevator-boys with whom he rode, 
 and if he went to the boiler-makers ball, he 
 7
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 didn t conceal it from the patronesses of the 
 dances given by the Colonial Dames. He was 
 rated as a good fellow by those who knew 
 him, and by his father s friends he was ac 
 counted worthless, but not a spendthrift. The 
 elder Barton seemed to be concealing an 
 expression of unspeakable fatigue whenever 
 the boy came into his office, or whenever the 
 youth s name was mentioned there. 
 
 Joab T. Barton had long since ceased to be 
 surprised at anything that his son might say 
 or do ; and yet when he saw his son wearing 
 a Civic Federation button, and met his name 
 in the list of members of the Committee of 
 Safety, the father was irritated. For the 
 Committee of Safety was at that time en 
 gaged in prosecuting, for election frauds, 
 some gentlemen whom, for good and sufficient 
 reasons, Joab T. Barton had seen fit to take 
 into the employ of the West Side Electric 
 Railway. Apparently the Civic Federation 
 was organized under a charter to make Joab 
 T. Barton s life a burden. When the boy 
 went into it the Federation was giving life to 
 a movement which demanded that Barton pay 
 the city for the renewal of his expiring street 
 railway franchise a demand which Barton 
 8
 
 frankly called robbery; for he had already paid 
 the election expenses of a majority of the coun- 
 cilmen and the mayor and the city counsellor, 
 and he considered enough enough. Two bills 
 were before the council for consideration at 
 the time young Barton donned the Federa 
 tion button ; one, known as the Barton bill, 
 merely extended a twenty years franchise to 
 the "West Side Electric Railway. The other, 
 known as the Federation bill, granted the 
 extended franchise, but required Barton to 
 provide transfer privileges, three-cent fares 
 to school-children, and to pay to the City 
 Library Fund one per cent, of the company s 
 earnings after the earnings reached ten per 
 cent. Public feeling was at a boiling-point. 
 Open charges of official corruption were being 
 made. The newspapers were indulging in 
 bitter editorials with nonpariel slugs between 
 the lines. And George Barton suavely wore 
 his blue and white Federation button, and 
 referred to his father jocularly as " the Op 
 pressor of the Poor." 
 
 Young George Barton considered his mem 
 bership in the Federation a joke. He found 
 the Federation at his club, with the occasional 
 cocktail and the billiard-cue, and took the 
 9
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Federation with the other things, because 
 they were easier to embrace than to avoid. 
 He gave it about as much thought as he gave 
 to the affair with Mrs. Kelsey at Manitou. 
 Mrs. Kelsey was a blondined lady, who drove 
 bobtailed horses in silver-mounted harness 
 hitched to outlandish rigs. George had met 
 her somewhat informally before she found 
 Kelsey. At Manitou, with a maid and a 
 nurse for her two overdressed children, Mrs. 
 Kelsey was the queen of something like one 
 hundred linear feet of veranda at the barny 
 summer hotel. The affair between the youth 
 and " our lady of the sawdust," as George 
 was wont to call her, was really trivial. A 
 handsome young man with unlimited credit is 
 a decorative appurtenance to a high yellow 
 and black English cart. And when the owner 
 of the cart puts just a little too much pad 
 ding not much too much, but just a little 
 too much on her hips and at her bust, and 
 lays one thin hair-line too much of black on her 
 eyebrows and under her eyes and when the 
 lady after doing these things adds three un 
 necessary carats to the weight of her diamond 
 earrings, she may ornament her equipage with 
 a young man a trifle too youthful and a 
 10
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 trifle too careless of the amenities, even if she 
 does have to pay the price. But at a summer- 
 resort the price of these things is not so high 
 as it is elsewhere in the world ; so Mrs. Kel- 
 sey paid it ; and as for George Barton, he 
 sent the account home to his parents. His 
 father s estimate of the importance of the 
 affair was gathered from the size of the 
 florist s bill. It was under two hundred dol 
 lars, and the father was not disturbed. But 
 when the Manitou gossip filtered into her 
 home, George s mother went to bed and re 
 mained there a week in rage and humiliation. 
 After that Mrs. Barton carried with her a 
 hatred for Mrs. Kelsey and a fear of her that 
 distinguished Mrs. Kelsey from the throng of 
 strangers beyond the pale, and brought her 
 into the circle of Mrs. Barton s intimate 
 enemies. Barton and Jim Kelsey had been 
 friends for ten years. Kelsey had been a sec 
 tion boss on the Corn Belt, and had pros 
 pered after constructing two or three branch 
 lines for the system in the eighties. Later he 
 had moved to the city, and had turned a more 
 or less honest penny in cedar block paving ; 
 still later he went into asphalt paving and 
 kept in the State Senate and in the city coun- 
 11
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 cil half a dozen foremen, a superintendent, 
 and friends innumerable who acted with Bar 
 ton s friends in the Legislature. If Barton s 
 son wished to be pleasant to Jim Kelsey s 
 new wife and Tom Hubbard s children, Joab T. 
 Barton saw no reason for a demonstration of 
 grief, if Jim did not complain. But Mrs. Bar 
 ton gave more importance than her husband 
 to Mrs. Kelsey s social impossibility, and 
 since George Barton s return from Manitou, 
 Mrs. Barton had felt an uneasiness lest the 
 idle hours the boy spent with Mrs. Kelsey 
 should affect the family s status in society. 
 Yet so long as Mrs. Barton had the gray stone 
 castle in Brookdale Park, the command of 
 the income from a fortune that piled into the 
 teens among the millions, and so long as she 
 had the advantage of having entered the por 
 tals of the town s aristocracy, just before the 
 boom widened the threshold, she was firmly 
 established. This fact of her absolute social 
 security was one of the many important 
 things that Mrs. Barton did not know. 
 Bright-eyed, fluffy-haired Mrs. Kelsey, who 
 had struggled bravely for several years to 
 keep the gentlemen of her acquaintance from 
 saying "Hello" to her on the street, was 
 12
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 shrewd enough to know what Mrs. Joab Bar 
 ton did not know that to land and to have 
 money to bank up and keep the tide back was 
 to have her feet upon a rock. Mrs. Barton 
 always harbored a fear that she would betray 
 the fact of her humble origin. Her mother 
 once presided at the lunch-counter in Sharon 
 Springs, and her father used to work on the 
 cinder-pit at the round-house ; and although 
 the family came up in the world so rapidly 
 that the child wore silk dresses before she 
 was sixteen, her girlhood was spent in a 
 family where nothing was thought of leaving 
 the soap in the water or of sweeping dirt 
 under the cupboard. So existence with Mrs. 
 Barton was a constant struggle against 
 reversion to type. In her twenties and 
 thirties she wore the longest possible seal 
 skins and the most dazzling jewels. In her 
 forties she built the castle in Brookdale Park 
 and covered it with towers, swelling bal 
 conies, bulging windows and ginger-bread 
 confections of architecture, until the house 
 seemed inflated with sinful pride to the 
 bursting-point. 
 
 The year before the Manitou incident ruf 
 fled her, Mrs. Barton had begun to find solace 
 13
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 in severe simplicity. She came to worship 
 austerity as madly and as abjectly as she had 
 worshipped flash and show. Thereafter the 
 footman went in black, the silver came off the 
 harness, the front of the house was straight 
 ened. The towers were scraped away; the 
 debris of bric-a-brac was swept out of the 
 halls and reception-rooms, and life became a 
 serious business to her. Yet eight years be 
 fore she had beamed with joy when the news 
 papers printed her name among the patron 
 esses of the Harvard Glee Club s annual 
 entertainment. She had been reading the 
 society columns of that paper every Sunday 
 for years, familiarizing herself with the im 
 portant names, and when she saw the excel 
 lent company she was in as a patroness, Mrs. 
 Barton was sure for the first time that she had 
 arrived. But she knew how thin her veneer 
 was and she always feared it would crack and 
 show the truth. 
 
 It was a vain house, an arrogant house, was 
 this house of Barton. It stood amid the tur 
 moil and the hubbub of a bitter contest with 
 the people, when calamity fell and brought 
 mourning with it. The news of George Bar 
 ton s sudden death appearing on the first page 
 14
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 of the morning papers, under one of the four 
 flash-heads that greeted the reader s eyes, 
 brought a shock with it. For the very papers 
 which contained the news of the death crowd 
 ed the account of it down to half a column, in 
 order to print fiery communications from lead 
 ing citizens and tax-payers, protesting against 
 the passage of the Barton bill. The council 
 was to cast its final vote in the matter on the 
 evening of the next day. In their newspaper 
 protests the citizens took for granted that the 
 council would stand by Joab T. Barton in the 
 street-railway matter, as the council had pro 
 tected him in the water-works bond proposi 
 tion, in his gas and electric lighting schemes, 
 in his river-front right-of-way grab, and in all 
 the matters wherein the w r elfare of the people 
 and the interests of Joab T. Barton had stood 
 in opposition. 
 
 Therefore the town did not mourn with the 
 Bartons. When death came to them and 
 smote them dumb the town forgot them. The 
 mourning in the town was for the young life 
 that was cut off; for the smile that was chilled ; 
 for the boyish heart that was still ; for the loss 
 of the warm hand s clasp, and the eternal si 
 lence of a cheery voice. But for the living 
 15
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 for old Joab and his proud wife the world 
 forgot that they were coming through the 
 great shadow, where the high and the lowly, 
 the worldly and the righteous, the saints and 
 those who are unclean, grope and stretch out 
 their hands, and where all are kith and kin in 
 the Democracy of Despair. But over the great 
 house in Brookdale Park there hung a dread 
 ful silence. Now and again the creak of a 
 door would shatter it ; the thud of a booted 
 foot upon a heavy hall-rug told of the florist s 
 invasion. The daylight darted impertinently 
 through the hush of the darkened rooms; the 
 master of the house, alone in the library, could 
 feel rather than hear the servants gliding by 
 his door. The whispering of visitors in the 
 hall below sounded to Barton like an agita 
 tion in some cave of bats. He sat in a leather 
 chair for hours, staring at the frescoed pattern 
 on the ceiling. By mid-day his nerves had 
 set him walking. For a time he paced the 
 room ; tiring of it, he w r ent down the stairs 
 and slipped past the parlor, and the neigh 
 bors saw the gray-clad human pendulum 
 swing for two hours from end to end of the 
 long veranda. An instinct for work nagged 
 at Joab Barton, and the instinct brought the 
 16
 
 bitter knowledge that the incentive for work 
 was gone. The day before he would not have 
 owned that all his labor was for his son ; but 
 as the father walked his weary round that day 
 there came a mighty press of grief upon him 
 and he was sick sick in the very flesh 
 at the stress of it. In that hour it was not 
 the loss of one whom he loved that lashed his 
 spirit ; perhaps it was pride, perhaps it was 
 the uprooting of the unspoken hopes that nat 
 ure plants and nourishes in the breasts of fa 
 thers, though they know it not ; perhaps it 
 was the smarting of the blow that death deals 
 to those near the swath of the sickle ; perhaps 
 it was God knows what. But some mighty 
 force came to the father there and he wrestled 
 with a growing impulse which he put from 
 him, when it first came. But as the shadows 
 lengthened upon the lawn, all his sinews 
 seemed to be pulling against his iron will. 
 Time and again he passed the closed door of 
 the parlor and beat off the impulse to enter 
 the silent room and throw himself beside the 
 body and let loose the throbbing tide of sor 
 row that pulsed within him. His sense of 
 loneliness had been growing as he faced his 
 future, and realized its emptiness ; and, as he 
 17
 
 looked back and measured the brief span of 
 years that had enclosed the boy s short life, 
 this sense of loneliness grew deeper and deep 
 er, tearing into the core of his soul. The 
 sunlight of the day in which he had been 
 walking burned him like a fire, at the con 
 stantly recurring thought that the boy had 
 passed forever out of it and out of all that was 
 quickening in the world. Every sense lashed 
 him to a madness, and when the loneliness 
 became utter, when from the abyss of his fut 
 ure a great black cloud rose and enveloped 
 him, Joab Barton entered the hall and tiptoed 
 to the parlor-door as one ashamed. He turned 
 the knob of the door softly and went in, his 
 frame convulsing with grief. The stifling 
 odor of the room choked him. He paused 
 till his eyes adjusted themselves to the semi- 
 darkness. He saw that the room was a veri 
 table mass of lilies. Everywhere the white 
 ness of the flowers beat upon him and the 
 artificiality of the place, the ostentation of the 
 garish spectacle which money had made, 
 mocked the anguish that had led him to the 
 room. His eyes, revolting from the ghastly 
 flowers, fell upon the dead boy s face. Bar 
 ton lifted his arms high above his head in a 
 
 18
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 spasm of anguish, and groaned as he turned 
 away his sorrow unspent, his soul unsatis 
 fied. The hatred of all the world and its af 
 fairs burned his vitals like an adder s sting. 
 After the impotent spasm of his passion had 
 gone, Barton stood in the darkened room a 
 long time with his fingers locked behind 
 him. 
 
 Again and again the sight and the odor of 
 the flowers nauseated him. A loathing of 
 everything his money had brought came 
 upon him, and following that came a doubt 
 that his own life had been spent wisely. He 
 stood by the coffin for many minutes. And 
 then he passed an hour walking beside the 
 form among the flowers. In that hour the 
 busy years of his life went by in review. A 
 strange psychological disorder was upon him, 
 and whatever period in his life he tried to re 
 call, whatever deed he dwelt upon, whatever 
 point of his career he examined, the lapping 
 of waters sweet and sybillant, upon a skiff- 
 side broke in upon his reverie and brought 
 him back to the days of his youth to the 
 days when he lived out of doors and tramped 
 in fields and through grassy meadows ; when 
 he was brother to all the gentle-folk of vood 
 19
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 and stream. And so it fell out that by de 
 grees Joab Barton s heart understood the 
 heart of his son, and he saw the good that was 
 in the life that had passed. With his widened 
 understanding came a warm love for the boy, 
 and then with the whisper of the water still 
 in his ears, the father gave up a pride in his 
 own achievements. He was inspired to do 
 some fine act of charity to perpetuate the 
 dead boy s name. It seemed to Barton that 
 he was but doing for the boy that which death 
 had robbed the boy of the time and oppor 
 tunity to do for himself. This brought peace 
 to the father, and he hugged the inspiration 
 fondly. The waters ceased lapping then, and 
 Barton walked out into the light of the wan 
 ing day with a mellow heart, almost rejoicing 
 as a strong man to run a race. His trans 
 formation seemed as wonderful to him as that 
 which befell Aaron s rod. 
 
 He went to the library, and before he took 
 his chair he saw Lawton, the attorney for his 
 street railway system, coming up the curved 
 stone path to the house. Barton guessed his 
 mission. He felt that it concerned the mat 
 ters pending in the city council. When Law- 
 ton came into the room Barton was sitting 
 20
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 listlessly, looking at the floor. He did not 
 rise. After a few formal words the attorney 
 broke the ice. 
 
 " Mr. Barton, things are going to pieces 
 downtown. The council s against us." 
 
 " I suppose so," returned Barton, not lift 
 ing his head. 
 
 "Jim Kelsey s flown the coop with his 
 seven men, and that s got the mayor scared ; 
 and the fellows who are under obligations to 
 us are getting panicky. They want some as 
 surance that we re going to win, or they ll 
 pull out. I don t know what to do ? " There 
 was a question in the last sentence. Barton 
 answered it with a sigh as he put his head on 
 his hand. 
 
 "Well, I don t, either." 
 
 Lawton was clearly absorbed in the fight. 
 Yet he did not wish to intrude too grossly 
 upon Barton s sorrow. There was a pause. 
 When Lawton saw that Barton was not going 
 to break it, the attorney ventured : 
 
 " Kelsey s the key ; get him back and 
 you re all right." 
 
 " What ails Jim ? " 
 
 " I haven t the slightest idea, Mr. Barton ; 
 he s wearing a Federation button to-day, and 
 21
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 the fellows say he s been consorting with the 
 Truly Good and his gang for a mouth on the 
 quiet. I had a talk with him this morning, 
 but he began telling me about what the peo 
 ple demand, and the people s rights, and the 
 need of your friends getting you down next 
 to the grass roots. I asked him who d put 
 up for him and left him." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," replied Barton, turn 
 ing his heavy eyes toward Lawton. 
 
 " Mr. Barton, suppose you have a talk with 
 Jim, you understand him." 
 
 This closed a deep silence. 
 
 " I don t care what he does," sighed Bar 
 ton. 
 
 But Lawton persisted, telling Barton that 
 the fight had gone so far that many of Barton s 
 friends had cast their fortunes with him for 
 success, and urging him to make some effort 
 in their behalf. The result of the conference 
 was this : That Barton, weary of the persist 
 ence of his lawyer, and to be rid of the man 
 for the hour, consented to see James Kelsey 
 that evening. 
 
 Twilight was falling when Kelsey entered 
 the Barton house. Kelsey was a large man. 
 He bumped into the furniture of the lower 
 22
 
 hall, and his voice dropped into a whisper 
 that penetrated the quiet rooms like the hiss 
 of escaping steam. Ascending he thumped 
 each foot twice on every stair, once with his 
 heel, once with his toe. That was because he 
 tried to walk slowly, out of respect for the 
 family s sorrow. Barton, still sitting by his 
 desk where the attorney had left him, heard 
 Kelsey at the door, and querulously cried 
 "Come in!" 
 
 Kelsey entered the room ready for a 
 struggle with Barton. The contractor had 
 deliberately broken a ten-years alliance. He 
 was prepared to hear a number of disagree 
 able things. Barton turned his face from his 
 old ally and said, with a long breath : 
 
 " Sit down, Jim." 
 
 From a seat by the window Kelsey, who 
 had struck a match, began his charge with : 
 "Don t object to smokin , do you?" This 
 came from between teeth that were biting a 
 cigar. Kelsey was leaning well back in a 
 deep chair and added : 
 
 "I m awfully sorry, Mr. Barton, about 
 
 George. He was a terrible good boy. My 
 
 wife was tellin me to-day how good he was 
 
 to her at Manitou last summer. She said he 
 
 23
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 was the best-hearted boy she d ever saw. 
 Well, it s the way of the world, I guess." 
 
 Barton made no reply. He walked to a 
 window. The mantel-clock ticked ten minutes 
 before Barton came back to his desk and 
 rested his head on his hand. He began jab 
 bing his pen in a glass of shot, not looking at 
 Kelsey. Kelsey wished to be polite. He 
 waited the first five of the ten minutes to give 
 Barton the advantage of opening the contro 
 versy. During the last three minutes Kelsey 
 began to suspect that Barton was planning 
 some vicious trick, and that the silence was a 
 part of a plan to outwit him. He decided 
 to take the bit in his teeth. 
 
 " Well, sir, they sent me out to see you 
 what is it?" 
 
 Barton kept on trifling with the pen and 
 the shot-glass, apparently giving his undi 
 vided thought to it, and replied : 
 
 " So they sent you out, did they ? " 
 
 "They said you wanted to talk over the 
 West Side Franchise business with me." 
 
 " So that s what you came for, is it? " 
 
 " It is." Kelsey was braced for the crisis. 
 He crossed his legs and clasped his hands 
 over a knee. Barton put down his pen. He 
 24
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 let his eyes wander idly over his desk and 
 said: 
 
 "All right then talk!" 
 
 No word was emphasized. 
 
 " "Well, what shall I say ? Do you want to 
 know what I think of this business ? " 
 
 Barton nodded a weary head. His eyes 
 were not lifted. Kelsey rose, walked to a 
 smouldering grate-fire and punched it. He 
 faced Barton and spoke : 
 
 " Lookee here, Barton, me and you s been 
 together in a lot of things for ten years. I ve 
 been a friend of yours and I am now. See 
 here what you need is someone to tell you 
 the truth. The fellows in your office slop 
 over you and lie to you. I won t. You ve 
 got to get down to the grass roots. Excuse 
 me for sayin it at such a time as this but 
 what you want to do is to get right with the 
 people. They think you re an old hog. They 
 say that you want the earth with a fence 
 around it and the taxes paid. And this fran 
 chise proposition of yours has got em wild." 
 
 " Well let em get wild and stay wild," re 
 plied Barton. His tone was dead, but he 
 lifted his eyes to his companion s. 
 
 " That s all right to say, Joab Barton, but 
 25
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 the people are after you now in earnest. And 
 they re goin to get you. More than that, 
 they re goin to rip every man up the back 
 who stands with you. They re out for blood, 
 and you better pick your tree ; I did. Had 
 to. You wouldn t blame me if you knew how 
 things are going down town this week." 
 
 Barton s eyes were staring keenly at Kelsey. 
 Barton spoke mechanically. " Pull er wide 
 open, old man. Straight track ahead." 
 
 "Now, I suppose you re mad. All right, 
 get mad. But I m right here to tell you it ll 
 be the costliest thing you ever got. This 
 franchise ordinance will be beaten. That s 
 dead open and shut. And it s the first thing 
 you ve lost in ten years. If they down you 
 now, the whole kit and boodle will quit you ; 
 and you won t amount to more n a feather 
 fan in a cyclone. The people want to look 
 at the books of this county anyway ; and if 
 you don t meet em half way in this you re 
 a busted community, politically or I m a 
 goat." 
 
 Barton looked up quickly and prefaced his 
 remarks with a little nervous cough that he 
 used when about to enter an important dis 
 cussion. 
 
 26
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 " Well, say, Jim, what do they want ? How 
 would you go at it to get them? " 
 
 After the answer came, Barton beat spirit 
 edly on his table with his wiry fingers, and 
 said : 
 
 " Well, Jim, you could just as well have 
 the $100,000 that I lose in ten years on your 
 compromise, yourself ! " 
 
 " Oh, that s all right, Barton. But I m like 
 old Tom Wharton ; I ve got money enough 
 to afford the luxury of being honest. But 
 that ain t the point. I can t go into this 
 thing now honest. As I was tellin my wife 
 this mornin , if a fellow amounts to anything 
 in this man s town, he s got to get in with the 
 best people. They re agin you, Joab dead 
 set agin you. That s the point. And what s 
 more, they really cut the ice." 
 
 Barton could see even a small straw then. 
 He grabbed it. 
 
 " Your wife agrees with you ? " 
 
 " You re mighty right she agrees with me, 
 and I d take her judgment before I would any 
 man s in this town." Kelsey knocked the 
 ashes from his cigar and put it back at a re 
 flective angle in his mouth, and added, as he 
 threw a leg over the arm of his chair : " I ve 
 27
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 got money enough now to put her right in the 
 best society in this town. But she don t care 
 a cent for it ; throws em all down. What 
 she s after is this cold-nosed Brookdale out 
 fit ; they make me hurt, but if she wants em 
 they re hers. And she knows and I know and 
 you know, that it s Katy bar the door if Jim 
 Kelsey isn t as straight as a string. And 
 what s more, the people are with this outfit 
 and it s the only way you can win. You 
 can t beat the people ; they ve got the votes. 
 And now s the time for you to get right, Joab 
 T. Barton, or the devil will be to pay and the 
 note past due." Kelsey s eyes twinkled as he 
 finished speaking ; for the Irish are never so 
 merry as when they are dealing their hardest 
 blows. There was no shadow of yielding in 
 Kelsey s eyes. 
 
 Kelsey s words served only to awaken a 
 fighting devil in Barton s heart that had held 
 domain there for thirty years. It was a 
 shrewd, merciless devil that loved a fight for 
 the sake of winning, and it had been the 
 motor that had pushed Joab T. Barton the 
 whole way along his road to riches and power. 
 This devil had been watching Kelsey from the 
 moment he entered Barton s room, even when 
 28
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 the stricken father loathed the world of affairs. 
 This under-consciousness must have seen that 
 Kelsey, who for years had been loyal to Bar 
 ton, was moving by some new and unknown 
 lever. Slowly as the habit of a lifetime took 
 possession of Barton, his sub-conscious reason 
 ing merged into the conscious, and he was as 
 alert as a tiger. Barton s mind worked in 
 vivid, heat-lightning flashes of intuition. In 
 one of these illumined seconds he suspected 
 that Kelsey s new wife was his lever. The 
 reply to his question about her agreement 
 with her husband convinced Barton. When 
 Kelsey had ceased speaking, Barton rose lan 
 guidly, stretched himself, walked over to Kel 
 sey and began purring : 
 
 " Oh, well, Jim, don t take it so hard ; you re 
 all right. Go on down town and tell the fel 
 lows not to get too far away from me. I ll 
 be decent enough, Jim. But I can t talk it 
 over now." Barton said these last words in 
 tentionally, and even while he spoke a stun 
 ning blow fell upon him as his grief came back 
 to him. He did not wince, but went on 
 " Women are pretty smart, Jim, smarter than 
 we are at times. Your wife may be right I 
 don t know, I don t know." 
 29
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 He had managed, by that indescribable pan 
 tomime that one uses to dismiss a guest, to 
 get Kelsey on his feet and near the door as 
 the sentence closed. A few formal words end 
 ed the meeting. 
 
 Barton walked to the grate and jabbed the 
 fire until it blazed. He stood in the flare of 
 light for two or three minutes, with two per 
 pendicular ridges cut in his brow. He was 
 taking mental invoice of Mrs. Kelsey. He re 
 called mechanically how all the men in the of 
 fice had sniffed the year before, when she had 
 married Kelsey. Barton remembered that 
 many intangible things had been left unsaid 
 about her. He peered intently into the im 
 age of her face as he remembered seeing it 
 upon the street. It occurred to him that he 
 had never met her at an evening gathering ; 
 he saw that she was not in society, and de 
 ducing from Kelsey s words about her, he con 
 cluded that she was forcing Kelsey into the 
 respectability of the Civic Federation to pave 
 her way to social recognition. When Barton 
 went over the ground again, and felt sure of 
 his woman and of the force that was leading 
 her, he stepped to the telephone and asked 
 her to come to his house that evening. It
 
 THE MAN OX HORSEBACK 
 
 was Barton s habit to strike like a thunder 
 bolt. 
 
 It was not anxiety lest she should fail him 
 that set Barton tearing papers on his desk to 
 bits, while he waited. It was the chilling sense 
 of anguish which he was strangling. This 
 racked his nerves, but as he sat before the 
 sinking fire, his sorrow was numbed by the 
 spirit of combat that was grappling him body 
 and soul. And the hand that touched the 
 electric-light button, at the sound of a woman s 
 voice in the hall, was of iron. Mrs. Kelsey 
 entered in a whirlwind of invisible silks. She 
 fluttered across the room to Barton, and took 
 his hand in both of hers and held it for nearly 
 a second, sighing before she spoke. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Barton, how do you do ? Tell 
 me, how is your wife ? Poor, poor George !" 
 Mrs. Kelsey caught her breath on something 
 that might have been a sob. At the formal 
 reply she continued: 
 
 "You know, Mr. Barton, she never called 
 on me, but, in times like this, neighbors can t 
 stand on ceremony. I m so glad you sent for 
 me, I do hope I can do something." Barton 
 found a chair for her. " Mr. Barton, I ve been 
 trying so hard to keep up and be brave all 
 31
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 day. But you are his father and you will un 
 derstand, when I tell you that George was the 
 noblest boy I ever knew like a benediction I 
 used to think, and now " A bediamonded 
 hand held her lace handkerchief to her eyes a 
 moment. She straightened up presently and 
 said, in a calm voice : 
 
 "You will pardon my weakness, I know, 
 Mr. Barton. I came thinking I might help 
 you ; that I might do something. And here I 
 am only making it harder for you." 
 
 Barton had been watching her out of eyes 
 shaded by his hand. His features had not 
 moved during her speech. He answered , " Not 
 at all, Mrs. Kelsey, not at all." Then he 
 cleared his throat and said : 
 
 " It was of another matter that I wished to 
 speak, one that concerns me deeply. I want 
 your help. It is in the "West Side Franchise 
 business that comes before the council to-mor 
 row night." 
 
 " Yes," returned Mrs. Kelsey with the sweet 
 est imaginable bell-like voice, and with an en 
 ticing rising inflection. 
 
 Barton went on in a dry, dead intonation : 
 " Yes, Mrs. Kelsey, Jim s against me, and I 
 want your help." 
 
 82
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 " Why did you think I could help you, Mr. 
 Barton ? Mr. Kelsey never comes to me for 
 advice in those matters, and he s not a mem 
 ber of the council, either." 
 
 Barton caught her eye and held it till it 
 dropped. 
 
 " Mrs. Kelsey, you are making a mistake. 
 Jim can cat s-paw for those Civic Federation 
 fellows all he pleases, but they will not admit 
 him to fellowship with them, nor will their 
 wives know you. You re on the wrong track. 
 I can help you." 
 
 Mrs. Kelsey leaned forward, put her elbow 
 on her chair-arm and her chin in her hand. 
 She fixed Barton on the prongs of a question 
 ing gaze. She was trying to probe him to see 
 what truth was there. It is the habit of 
 women who have been mistaken often. 
 
 " Can t we have an understanding?" asked 
 Barton. " You can help me, and my wife and 
 I can do more in two months to get you what 
 you want, than the Civic Federation will do 
 in a dozen years. Mrs. Kelsey, I m a plain 
 man. I always speak right out. Now then, 
 [the little cough put the comma in here], if 
 you ll see that Jim s friends in the council 
 vote for my Franchise bill, I ll see that every 
 33
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 house in Brookdale Park is open to you be 
 fore snow falls. I give you my word." 
 
 Mrs. Kelsey did not take her eyes from 
 Barton s face. She was thinking. The 
 thought uppermost in her mind was that the 
 council would vote the following evening, and 
 that it would be a year before Mrs. Barton 
 could come out of mourning to fulfil the com 
 pact. Barton divined some obstacle like this 
 and repeated : 
 
 " I give you my word, Mrs. Kelsey." 
 
 To Joab T. Barton that sentence was a 
 solemn obligation. Even those who hated 
 him, never claimed that he would break a 
 promise or forget it. Mrs. Kelsey nodded ab 
 sently and said, in a preoccupied tone, as she 
 went on searching for some way to bind the 
 bargain : 
 
 "Yes, I know." 
 
 The answer revealed so much of the 
 woman s past to Barton that he would have 
 winced if he had been of flesh and blood. 
 " Well ? " he asked. The silence continued. 
 But when Barton saw Mrs. Kelsey moisten 
 her lips and heard her expel the faintest lit 
 tle sigh, he knew that some decision had been 
 reached. He was too wise to put another in- 
 34
 
 THE MAX ON HORSEBACK 
 
 terrogatiou. Mrs. Kelsey dropped her eyes, 
 and put the ferrule of her umbrella on her 
 glossy shoe-tip and began, in a mellow voice 
 that had a show of pathos in it : 
 
 " Mr. Barton, I m not the kind of a woman 
 you have taken me for. I can t enter into a 
 cold-blooded deal like that. I love to do 
 things for my friends. It gives me pleasure 
 to help them. I thought the world of George, 
 Mr. Barton. I would have done anything in 
 the world for him that a mother would do. He 
 was just a boy. I want to be friends with his 
 father and mother. If you come to me as a 
 friend and ask this that you do, I ll help you. 
 I don t want any reward only to be con 
 sidered your friend." 
 
 Barton could see whither she was drifting. 
 The President of the West Side Electric Rail 
 way Company did not recoil at her audacity, 
 and George Barton s father was dumb. The 
 President of the West Side Railway Company 
 saw only the great game that had been almost 
 lost, now almost won. The lust to win tingled 
 through his veins. He filled a pause with : 
 
 " I understand exactly." 
 
 " Do you ? " she inquired. She was screAv- 
 ing her courage to the point. To be accepted 
 35
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 as a friend of the Bartons in a great family 
 crisis like this would put Mrs. Kelsey s social 
 status beyond question. After that, she be 
 lieved that she could take care of herself. 
 
 " I knew you would understand when I 
 told you. George s father must have under 
 stood. And it is for George s sake that I 
 want to be friends with you you and his 
 poor heart-broken mother. I want to com 
 fort her. I want you to let me come to-mor 
 row and help her through that terrible ordeal. 
 I want to be here in the house, to receive the 
 curious strangers, to shield her ; to let her 
 lean upon me for her boy s sake. It will com 
 fort me you don t know how much." 
 
 He did not answer. She feared she had 
 moved too suddenly ; that Barton, being un 
 prepared, would refuse her request. Wishing 
 to clinch the proposition, she spoke through 
 her handkerchief : 
 
 " And don t don t you think Mr. Bar 
 ton," a bubble of sobs broke the sentence, 
 " that Jim Kelsey wouldn t brave the whole 
 world for anyone who was that good to me. 
 Oh, Jim is so good to me, Mr. Barton, so 
 good." 
 
 It was not Mrs. Kelsey s grief that moved 
 36
 
 THE MAN ON" HORSEBACK 
 
 Barton. For he looked up at her quickly, and 
 when he saw that her eyes were dry, he knew 
 that he was facing a business proposition. 
 Mrs. Kelsey did not meet his gaze, but her eyes 
 fell, coyly enough perhaps, to have deceived a 
 meaner judge of human nature into parleying 
 and haggling for better terms. Joab Barton 
 consumed one two three four five 
 minutes in debate with the devil before Mrs. 
 Kelsey got her answer. In that five minutes 
 Barton looked at the naked facts in the case. 
 He took into account his wife s hatred for 
 Mrs. Kelsey. He saw clearly that he was 
 trading his wife s peace of mind for votes to 
 pass the Franchise bill. He knew that such 
 a course would be abhorrent to his son. But 
 the spirit of the fight was so big in him that 
 he put by his wife s scruples as the whims of 
 a foolish woman, and passed over what might 
 have been his son s objections as the quib- 
 blings of a sentimental boy. As for his own 
 high purposes of the earlier hours of the day, 
 he saw in them only the vaporings of an un 
 balanced mind. Still it took time to settle 
 these things, and while they were settling 
 Mrs. Kelsey composed herself and waited her 
 answer patiently. Barton had been drum- 
 37
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 ming on his desk with the long thin blade of 
 a paper-knife, and he did not lift his eyes 
 from the tip of the blade as he said : 
 
 " Very well, Mrs. Kelsey, very well," and 
 then added : " Will that be all ? " 
 
 "No, I think not," replied Mrs. Kelsey, as 
 if trying to recall the last article on a shop 
 ping list. " Mrs. Barton and I should have 
 an understanding, and there will be no better 
 time than now. I believe I would send for 
 Mrs. Barton, if I were you." 
 
 Mrs. Barton came into the room, her large 
 figure trembling, and her head, that was 
 crowned with crimping-pins, nodding as in a 
 palsy. The brown wrinkles in her face were 
 drawn and deepened, and there was a pitiable 
 abandonment to grief in her wrinkled clothes. 
 If the stricken mother s heart was clutched 
 by surprise or anger, when she recognized 
 Mrs. Kelsey, her heavy face did not show it. 
 She seemed to have reached a point where 
 her body did not repeat the agonized writh- 
 ings of her soul. 
 
 " Well, Joab, what is it ? " was her greet 
 ing. 
 
 When she heard her husband s disagreeable 
 prefatory cough she must have known that 
 38
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 his words would be painful to her. But she 
 seemed none the less ready to hear them. 
 
 "Mrs. Barton," began her husband, "you 
 know Mrs. Kelsey." The wife made a trem 
 bling acknowledgment to Mrs. Kelsey s effu 
 sion. "Mrs. Kelsey," continued Barton, "is 
 going to place us greatly in her debt. And 
 in a way that nothing except a manifestation 
 of our gratitude can repay her. I have had 
 a talk with Mrs. Kelsey, and she tells me 
 that she considers it important to be here to 
 morrow, to represent us during the morning 
 and to be with us during the afternoon. 1 
 have pledged her your consent. Considering 
 the debt we owe her I could do nothing 
 else." 
 
 It was a long speech; but Barton had 
 braced himself for it, and said it carefully 
 and slowly, as though he were dictating it to 
 his stenographer. Mrs. Barton, who had 
 seated herself before the message started, 
 seemed to be on the point of speaking once 
 or twice during the recitation, but checked her 
 self, and when her husband ceased talking 
 she replied: 
 
 "It s just as you say, Joab." 
 
 Mrs. Kelsey, rising to go, said : " I m so 
 39
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 glad, Mrs. Barton, that you will let me do 
 something to help you in your trouble." 
 
 Mrs. Kelsey approached the elder woman, 
 and brought with her the odor of violets and 
 the irritating rustle of silk. There was a 
 creaking mechanism about her gestures and 
 in her manner that rasped the nerves of the 
 heart-broken mother. In a second she lost 
 her self-control. Anger made her joints rigid 
 as she stood before her husband ; but her 
 voice quavered and broke and ran the gamut 
 along its short register as she spoke : 
 
 "Joab Barton, do you know what that 
 that that creature is?" She pointed to 
 Mrs. Kelsey. " What she has done ? That s 
 the person that tagged after George in Mani- 
 tou and tried to bring him to her level. Let 
 her in the house? That woman that 
 that 
 
 Barton did not stop drumming with his 
 knife upon his desk. Mrs. Kelsey stood 
 motionless near the grate. In the helpless 
 ness of her rage, the mother turned, as if to 
 step toward the younger woman, and cried : 
 
 " How dare you come here ! How dare 
 you ! Isn t it enough for you to hound my 
 boy in life? Are you going to But 
 
 40
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 Mrs. Barton did not finish the sentence. She 
 lost voice in a burst of tears. And Mrs. Kel- 
 sey exclaimed, in the calmest and sweetest 
 tone : 
 
 " My poor dear woman, you don t realize 
 what you are saying and you cannot know 
 what you are talking about. Why, I loved 
 George like he was my own child." 
 
 The violet perfume from the handkerchief 
 at Mrs. Kelsey s eyes stimulated the rage of 
 the mother and she found speech. 
 
 " Don t I know what I m talking about ? 
 Don t I ? " Mrs. Barton trembled, not with 
 the palsy of grief but with pent-up wrath, 
 which passed away as she turned to her hus 
 band : 
 
 " For God s sake, Joab, are you going to 
 do this? Don t, don t, Joab; please don t. 
 Not now any time but now." 
 
 Barton again spoke in his emotionless 
 voice. 
 
 " You don t understand. It is a matter of 
 business purely business. And I must have 
 my way. What time in the morning shall 
 Mrs. Kelsey call?" 
 
 Probably Mrs. Barton had met the look 
 before that came into her husband s face. 
 41
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 She stood and stared at him hopelessly, and 
 moaned : 
 
 "Oh, God! Business! Business!" 
 At the door, before she closed it behind 
 her, the mother broke into tears. And they 
 heard her heavy footsteps in the hall and on 
 the stairs. Her cry came back to them : 
 "George! George! Oh, George!" 
 Through the stillness of the house came the 
 click of the parlor-door, and after the two 
 above stairs heard a wild, piteous burst of 
 sorrow, the house grew quiet, and the clock - 
 ticks came into the silence and startled 
 them. 
 
 The Morning Times, which told of the pomp 
 and splendor of George Barton s funeral, pub 
 lished, under the caption of "THE MAN ON 
 HORSEBACK," a double-leaded editorial which 
 Joab T. Barton did not read. Yet it con 
 tained much of interest to him and to all good 
 citizens. The editorial ran thus : 
 
 " Last night the city council passed Joab 
 T. Barton s ordinance granting him a renewal 
 of his street railway franchises in this city for 
 twenty years. The ordinance was passed just 
 as it came from the law department of the 
 42
 
 THE MAN ON HORSEBACK 
 
 West Side Electric Railway Company, with 
 out an ink-scratch on the twenty-five hand 
 some green type-written pages. It was passed 
 by a majority of five, the exact majority that 
 the West Side people boasted it would have 
 six months ago. There was in it not one 
 concession to the people. For three months 
 the citizens of this town have made public 
 sentiment against this nefarious measure so 
 plain that no one has disputed it. If there 
 had been the slightest remnant left of the in 
 stitution of a government by the people, Joab 
 T. Barton would have paid the city some ade 
 quate return for the great concession he has 
 wrested from the people through chicanery 
 and corruption. 
 
 " But the vote last night has demonstrated 
 that this town no longer enjoys popular gov 
 ernment. This town, its citizens, its proper 
 ty, real and personal, and the hereditaments 
 thereunto appertaining, are the chattels of 
 Joab T. Barton. He not only owns the execu 
 tive and legislative branches of the civil gov 
 ernment, but the judiciary is recruited from his 
 law offices. He can give us water or not, at 
 his will ; he can furnish us with light or not, 
 at his will. He can bid us walk, and there is 
 
 48
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 no recourse from his edict. By a scratch of 
 his pen he can increase freight-rates on his 
 great railroad system, putting the necessaries 
 of life out of the reach of one-third of the pop 
 ulation in the city, and no State Legislature 
 dare check his avarice. There has been much 
 talk about the coming revolution that is to de 
 stroy property rights and overthrow free gov 
 ernment. The talk is idle. A silent revolu 
 tion has been accomplished. Our dictator is 
 here. Napoleon s monarchy had only limit 
 ed powers compared with those which Joab 
 T. Barton controls. What a farce are these 
 empty forms of popular government ! 
 
 " Out of the mad struggle for commercial 
 supremacy a struggle that has cost America 
 a thousand times more lives, and better lives 
 than the revolutionary guillotine took from 
 France has risen in every American city, and 
 in many American States, some bloodless, 
 greedy, brutal incarnation of the spirit of the 
 times, like Joab T. Barton. He is THE MAN 
 ON HORSEBACK."
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 THE Governor flatly refused to consider the 
 claims of the men who aspired to suc 
 ceed the dead Senator until ten days after the 
 senatorial funeral ; so the day following that 
 ceremony half a dozen patriots secured suites 
 of rooms in the hotel frequented by the poli 
 ticians at the capital. Newspapers and cal 
 low strangers called these suites " head 
 quarters," but in the dialect of the time and 
 the place they figured as " the Judge s room," 
 " Joe s room," and " Tom s room." 
 
 As the ten days wore on, lounging men dis 
 ordered the beds in these rooms earlier and 
 earlier in the day. The white and brown 
 squares in the tiled floor of the hotel office 
 remained beneath the dirt that covered them 
 farther and farther into the night. The low- 
 keyed roar of the idle crowd in the corridors 
 did not cease on the ninth day until after 
 midnight, and the porters who straightened 
 the long rows of office-chairs in the hotel 
 47
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 lobby were called from their work to take the 
 valises of guests who came in on early morn 
 ing trains. These guests pulled the chairs 
 out of line again, and snoozed by the fire un 
 til breakfast. But even while these wayfarers 
 slept, there roamed above them, under the 
 light of single gas-jets turned low, restless 
 spirits who flitted in and out of bedrooms, 
 plotting, pleading, threatening all with the 
 spent energy of a worn-out day. When the 
 new day came to those who had been sleep 
 ing above stairs, with it came the stale odors 
 of the busy night; and a thousand feet 
 stepped anxiously from the path of dreams 
 into the tangled wilderness of treasons, strata 
 gems, and spoils. 
 
 A free people were choosing a leader, and 
 great events were stirring. Therefore, after 
 the hour appointed by the Governor on the 
 tenth day, little groups of men began to file 
 into the Governor s office, and to draw their 
 chairs closely about his big walnut table. 
 Crowds of men began to tramp in, take posses 
 sion of the corner nearest the outer door, and 
 stand there patiently while their orator grew 
 red with impassioned eulogy of their candi 
 date. Later in the day unheralded gentlemen 
 48
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 slipped in and out through side doors. En 
 thusiastic gentlemen came and clutched the 
 Governor s coat-front, while they bruised his 
 breastbone with stiff index fingers on good 
 right hands. Men with moist breath blew 
 secrets into the gubernatorial ear until the 
 Governor longed for the power a cat has to 
 shake its ear spasmodically. In the moments 
 between the onslaughts Governor Ehodes 
 stood at the window of his office and looked 
 listlessly down at the snow-covered State- 
 house grounds, or he paced his room wearily 
 like a prisoner, with his hands clasped behind 
 him. 
 
 Two long days passed thus. At three 
 o clock on the third day the Governor barred 
 his doors and wrote a note. When Harvey K. 
 Bolton read that note he was in Tom Whar- 
 tou s room at the hotel, and the jug which 
 usually sat behind the wash-stand in the 
 corner had just made the circuit of the room. 
 Bolton rose and pocketed the note. To Mr. 
 Wharton and his retainers Bolton replied : 
 
 " I am going over to the State-house to 
 sound another clarion-note for the friend of 
 the great plain people, the Honorable Thomas 
 Wharton, M.C." 
 
 49
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 And breaking his mock heroics, he went 
 out of the room arid down the long corridor 
 and into the stench of the hotel lobby. He 
 walked briskly, and as he passed through the 
 crowd men tried to stop him. He swung 
 them off lightly, with a smile when necessary, 
 with a shake of the head when it would 
 suffice. His overcoat was buttoned trimly 
 about him, and he tugged at his gloves as he 
 neared the sidewalk. Harvey K. Bolton was 
 a large man who moved well on his feet. His 
 shoulders were as square as his jaw was 
 rectangular. He walked in a bee-line and 
 made others turn for him. 
 
 He stopped in a cigar-store and re-read the 
 Governor s note : 
 
 "MY DEAR HARVEY: You ve got to take it. 
 There is no use talking of Tom. Come over. 
 
 C. R." 
 
 Bolton gripped his unlimited cigar firmly in 
 his teeth as he went toward the State-house. 
 He nodded to wayfarers in passing, but he 
 was full of the issue of his errand. He was 
 sure of one thing : that he did not wish to 
 give up a twenty-five-thousand-dollar salary 
 as attorney for the Corn Belt Eailroad, for 
 50
 
 A VICTOEY FOE THE PEOPLE 
 
 two years of an unexpired term in the United 
 States Senate. When he left the hotel he in 
 tended to go directly to the Capitol, but on 
 his way he turned into the entrance of the 
 Corn Belt building and went to his office. 
 There he spent a reflective half -hour. He de 
 cided three times that he did not care to go 
 to the Senate ; and yet he liked to fancy him 
 self there, and to picture the power that he 
 felt he could command. In his profession 
 he stood higher than most of the members 
 of the Senate had stood in their profes 
 sions when they left private life. As an or 
 ator he was in demand upon occasions of 
 national celebration as often as any Senator 
 was. He realized these things, and yet he 
 feared that his career as a railroad attorney 
 would injure his chances for election two 
 years thereafter. He considered well the 
 power of the party machine, which he believed 
 he could control if he Avere Senator. On the 
 other hand, he saw clearly that his elevation 
 to the Senate would embarrass his party at 
 the polls, and perhaps defeat it. His political 
 sense told him it would be unwise for him to 
 accept the appointment, yet there was the 
 temptation before him in black and white. 
 51
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Not the least part of Bolton s temptation was 
 a sincere ambition to give his talents (and he 
 estimated them fairly and not in vanity) to his 
 country. A fervid moment came to him. In 
 this moment he felt the need of strong men 
 on the right side of the battle for good gov 
 ernment, and ambition glowed in his heart. 
 An instant later reason smothered the flame. 
 It was in a sane mood that Bolton rose to 
 leave the office. Passing his desk, he noticed 
 an unopened letter from the president of the 
 Corn Belt road. Bolton stopped to read it. 
 He found that it was an answer to a commun 
 ication from him about the senatorial situa 
 tion as it had appeared to Bolton three days 
 before. The president s letter urged Bolton 
 to control the appointment at any hazard. 
 The writer spoke of the prominence which the 
 newspapers had been giving to the candidacy 
 of John Gardiner. The president urged Bol 
 ton to watch that part of the situation care 
 fully. The letter announced that there was a 
 rumor in Chicago that Gardiner had been em 
 ployed by the enemies of the Corn Belt, who 
 were insisting upon the Government foreclos 
 ure of the road if the debt which the Govern 
 ment s mortgage stood for should not be paid. 
 52
 
 A VICTOEY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 After admonishing Bolton not to be too sure 
 that the Gardiner candidacy was a bubble 
 as Bolton had called it in a previous letter 
 the president of the Corn Belt continued : 
 " Why should not Governor Rhodes appoint 
 you ? With you in the Senate, we should feel 
 absolutely safe." The letter closed by saying 
 that the president of the Corn Belt would in 
 quire more closely into the rumors connecting 
 Gardiner with the men who were insisting 
 upon foreclosure, and that Bolton would re 
 ceive advice by wire. When Bolton put down 
 that letter he ceased to be a senatorial possi 
 bility. The president s inference that Bolton 
 as Senator would be a Corn-Belt attorney 
 hurt him for a second ; but when he recovered 
 his poise, it was the attorney for the Corn 
 Belt who shut down the top of the desk and 
 hurried to the street. Bolton had bought a 
 good many purchasable men, but he distinctly 
 understood that he was not in the market 
 himself. 
 
 As he hurried along, Bolton s mind turned 
 to John Gardiner, the candidate who was lead 
 ing the " anti-gang " faction in his party. He 
 was known as the Truly Good. He did not 
 establish head-quarters in the Capitol ; but 
 53
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 among that indefinite minority known as the 
 best people of the State there was a strong 
 feeling that Gardiner would make an ideal 
 Senator. Coupled with that was the restful 
 certainty that Gardiner had no possible pros 
 pect of being appointed. This popular sup 
 port of Gardiner crystallized into a petition 
 in his behalf, signed by respectable persons 
 whose names were never enrolled in the party 
 conventions. More than that, there was a 
 concert of powers among the newspapers of 
 the better sort ; and the concert was for Gar 
 diner in the most vehement double leads. In 
 postscripts to half the business letters which 
 reached the executive council were endorse 
 ments of Gardiner. Nevertheless, everyone 
 conceded that no one with any influence was 
 for him. Bolton knew of the unorganized sen 
 timent for Gardiner. He had seen the peti 
 tions, he had read the newspapers, he knew of 
 the postscripts to the letters, and he appre 
 ciated the strength and the weakness of the 
 Gardiner sentiment. The Corn-Belt attorney 
 liked Gardiner. The two men belonged to 
 the same town club, and they often sat before 
 the grate-fire in the club reading-room making 
 grotesque pictures for each other with the in- 
 
 04
 
 - 
 
 
 The Governor looked up and said, "Well, Senator?"
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 iquity of political corruption for rhetorical 
 pigment. The two men read the same books. 
 They often went to New York together, where 
 they enjoyed the same pictures and laughed 
 at the same things in the theatres. Bolton 
 knew that Gardiner thought because the news 
 papers were for him he had the best of the 
 senatorial situation; Bolton even knew in a 
 vague way, that without ever having asked for 
 it explicitly, Gardiner expected the Corn-Belt 
 attorney s support. But Bolton felt that he 
 could not rely on Gardiner to prevent the 
 foreclosure of the Government mortgage on 
 the Corn-Belt road, even if it should transpire 
 that Gardiner was not the attorney for the 
 opposition. 
 
 Bolton came bustling into the Governor s 
 office, took off his overcoat, and flung a 
 "Hello, Charlie," to the Governor. The 
 Governor looked up from a paper and said, 
 "Well, Senator?" 
 
 Governor Rhodes was a tall, lank man with 
 an actor s face, loose-skinned and wrinkled. 
 He had sharp brown eyes, and the effect of 
 his gray-streaked hair and mustache against 
 his clean olive skin had produced an argu 
 ment for his nomination. There was no con- 
 55
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 tradicfcing the claim of the Rhodes men that 
 he was a " good looker." He often stopped 
 and puffed cigar-smoke between important 
 words exasperatingly. Strangers thought he 
 did it to show his pride in being Governor. 
 Only his best friends and his bitterest ene 
 mies knew the other signs of his vanity. 
 
 " Lookee here, Charlie Rhodes," exclaimed 
 Boltoii, as he threw himself on the lounge 
 back of the Governor s desk, so that the Gov 
 ernor had to swing around to face him: "I 
 don t want to go to the Senate. I m running 
 a law office." 
 
 The Governor smiled complacently, and 
 replied, quietly : " All right, Harvey K. ; but 
 I m going to send you there, law or no law." 
 
 "Well, I won t accept. I m in earnest, 
 Charlie. It s mighty good of you, but I don t 
 want it. You must give it to Tom. There s 
 no other way out of it." 
 
 The Governor lighted a cigar deliberately, 
 shaking his head blandly as he flipped away 
 the match. 
 
 "Why not? " asked Bolton, rising. 
 
 " Damn " (puff, puff) " scoundrel." 
 
 Bolton had not met this mood in Rhodes 
 before. The attorney looked his man over, and 
 56
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 lay back on the lounge. He decided to find 
 what was moving in the gubernatorial mind. 
 The Governor put his feet on his desk, pufi ed 
 contentedly for awhile, and then ejaculated, 
 over his shoulder : 
 
 " You or Gardiner ! " 
 
 Bolton did not move. He was looking at 
 Khodes through little slits where his large 
 bright eyes should have been. The Govern 
 or had braced himself for an uncomfortable 
 session, so he called the meeting to order 
 with : 
 
 " Politics too rotten in this State. People 
 are tired of Tom Wharton s methods." The 
 speaker did not like the silence that followed. 
 He walked over to Bolton and said, queru 
 lously : " Harvey, why won t you take it ? " 
 
 Bolton s half-closed, beady eyes were irri 
 tating the Governor s nerves. The silence 
 deepened. Rhodes sat down and let his ci 
 gar go out. The pause lasted two minutes. 
 Finally the Governor exclaimed : " Well ? " 
 
 Then Bolton rose and said, with all the 
 curl he could put on his closely cropped 
 upper lip : 
 
 " I suppose you know what you are saying, 
 Charlie Rhodes?" 
 
 57
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 "What s the matter, Harvey? What s 
 wrong now?" 
 
 " Politics are rotten, are they ? Well, when 
 did you turn sky-pilot ? Haven t you for 
 gotten something? Who made you Gov 
 ernor? Where w r ould you be now if Tom 
 Wharton hadn t taken Corn-Belt money, and 
 gone out and bought a lot of coyote counties 
 in that convention ? Hell s afire, and the 
 calves are out, Charlie Rhodes, when }-ou talk 
 about rotten politics and Tom Wharton s 
 methods." 
 
 The Governor grinned reminiscently. Bol- 
 ton paced the floor of the office twice, and 
 then came and stood directly in front of 
 Rhodes, with the walnut table between them. 
 
 " Charlie Rhodes, I hate to believe you are 
 a pup. I know you will take money from 
 one side ; but I did not think you were dis 
 honest. I did not think you would take 
 money from both sides. Who is putting up 
 for Gardiner ? " 
 
 The Governor flushed, then cleared his 
 throat, and returned : "I wouldn t take that 
 from anyone but you, sir." He added, in 
 a natural voice, " Now, Harvey, talk sense. 
 Keep your shirt on. What have you got 
 68
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 against Gardiner? Come, sit down. Talk 
 this over sensibly." 
 
 When Bolton had brought the affair to this 
 stage, he sat down, drew his chair next to 
 the Governor s, and began : 
 
 " I was a little rough, Charlie ; but to see 
 you about to make so many kinds of a fool of 
 yourself made me hot. You know why we 
 can t have Gardiner, Charlie. Who s for him ? 
 Look them over, and every mother s son of 
 them is after you with a gun. Look at Moul- 
 ton ! He s wearing a Gardiner badge and 
 circulating Gardiner petitions, and slashing 
 your liver with a cheese-knife at every jump 
 in the road. Look at the Ptev. Michael Hogan 
 the old pie-face ! He was in to see you to 
 day. What did he say ? " 
 
 The Governor laughed. " Oh, he said he 
 was placed where he had to promise Gardiner 
 to come and see me ; but he hoped I wouldn t 
 think he was out of the race himself. He 
 said if he wasn t appointed himself, he sup 
 posed I couldn t do better than Gardiner, but 
 that I knew best." 
 
 " That s it, Charlie, that s it. That s your 
 purification of politics. That s the outfit 
 that s whooping it up for Gardiner. Do you 
 59
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 know what that old fraud told Gardiner to 
 day ? He said he had been up here, and had 
 laid down on you, and had withdrawn from 
 the race, and had demanded Gardiner s ap 
 pointment on behalf of 50,000 Republicans 
 in his Conference. He said you told him 
 that his resignation cleared the air, and 
 that you promised to appoint John Gardiner. 
 There s your holier-than-thou crowd, Charlie 
 Rhodes. I don t blame you for laughing. 
 Now, honest Ingin, Charlie, are you going to 
 desert us for that crowd ? " 
 
 The Governor replied, peevishly : " Harve, 
 I can t appoint Tom. It would look like a 
 deal. The papers would abuse us, and we d 
 be drummed out of the State. Don t you see 
 I can t do it? I d like to, but I can t." 
 
 The two men rose and walked to the win 
 dow. Bolton s arm was on the Governor s 
 shoulder. He laughed as he spoke. " Oh, 
 Charlie, Charlie, I thought I explained all 
 that the last time." He feigned impatience, 
 and won a smile from Rhodes for his feigning. 
 
 "Charlie, how many times will I have to 
 
 tell you that they can t hurt yon. With Tom 
 
 in the Senate and you here, all hell can t beat 
 
 you. You know it ; and if you put in Gar- 
 
 GO
 
 A VICTOEY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 diner, what would he do ? He d be monkey- 
 doodlin around with some Chinese labor bill 
 or some civil service twaddle, and his own 
 county would instruct a delegation against 
 you. The only fellows he would wake up to 
 reward are your enemies. He d give them 
 sinews to strangle you. More than that, he 
 would help them strangle all your friends." 
 
 At the close of the silence the Governor 
 said to Bolton : " Give me a match! " Bolton 
 lighted it for the Governor, who walked back 
 to his chair, and sighed : " Oh, Lord, I wish 
 I was out of it. What does a man ever want 
 to be Governor for, anyway ? " The last 
 sentence came, punctuated with puffs. Bol 
 ton read this for a good sign. He was look 
 ing out of the window when he saw the 
 Governor s wife across the great square of 
 the State-house grounds. He did not turn 
 around, but asked, with apparent careless 
 ness : " Where did you get that Gardiner 
 idea, Charlie?" 
 
 " I don t know ; he s a good man. Why ? " 
 
 " Haven t promised anyone you d appoint 
 
 him, have you ? " asked the attorney, with his 
 
 eyes still following the woman s figure in the 
 
 distance. A quick, unemphasized " No " was 
 
 61
 
 STEATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 followed by a petulant "Why are you so 
 dead set on the appointment of Tom ? His 
 record is bad. How the papers would scream." 
 Bolton laughed sympathetically, and said : 
 
 " Charlie, I didn t come here to abuse you. 
 I came here with an idea. It s this : I don t 
 want to go to the Senate. I don t care any 
 more for Tom Wharton than you do I mean 
 personally. But I m under obligations to 
 him, and so are you ; and what s more, I need 
 him in my business. He is the only man I 
 can trust in this Corn Belt foreclosure mat 
 ter ; it s only for two years anyway. Then it 
 will be your time." 
 
 The Governor turned quickly to Bolton, 
 saw the meaning of the words, and shook his 
 head. 
 
 "Oh, yes, you can, Charlie; and I ll help 
 you. To begin with, I ll get $15,000 as a 
 campaign fund, and we ll put a fellow in the 
 central committee rooms whose business it 
 will be to see that every man-jack running 
 for the Legislature who gets any aid from the 
 State committee is for you. Then you work 
 your end of the business with the State Sen 
 ators who hold over, and you can make it. 
 I tell you, you ve got an immortal cinch." 
 62
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 The Governor put his cigar on the desk 
 edge, and asked : " How bout Tom ? " 
 
 " I ll take care of him," replied the attor 
 ney. 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Oh, lots of ways. Pull the bribery busi 
 ness, if I have to. He is easy." 
 
 "But he s such a fraud, Harve. There s 
 no use talking, I can t appoint him." At the 
 end of the pause Khodes continued : " I sup 
 pose I could count on Melling s help in the 
 Senate, and Brewster would come back and 
 lead the fight in the House ? " 
 
 Bolton reeled out the line with a nod. 
 Khodes made for the bottom Avith: "We 
 could at least send Tom back to Congress at 
 the end of his term. That ought to be enough 
 for him." 
 
 And Bolton began to wind in : " Yes, down 
 in his district they never go back on the old 
 man." 
 
 The Governor puffed his cigar. The line 
 tightened as he replied : " When you break 
 the news to old Tom, be sure and take along 
 a shoe-spoon and some powdered chalk, or 
 he won t be able to get his hat on." Bolton 
 laughed heartily, and the two men rose. 
 63
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SrOILS 
 
 And so it ended as Harvey K. Bolton de 
 sired it to end. The Governor followed the 
 Corn-Belt attorney to the door. Bolton said : 
 
 " That s all right, Charlie. It s on me. I 
 thought you had given us the mitten. Ho w d 
 I know you were fooling ? I ll see Tom at 
 supper and tell him. This is a mighty wise 
 move, Charlie, and you ll not suffer by it." 
 After a long grip from the gubernatorial 
 hand, Bolton walked out into the crisp win 
 ter air. 
 
 The Governor went back to a hissing steam- 
 coil, and held his thin hands over it. The 
 room was warm, but the warmth of the 
 heated iron felt good to him. He stood with 
 his hands behind him, thinking. He was 
 planning rapidly, and fitting the furniture of 
 his fancy to the new prospect perhaps more 
 rapidly than he planned for the realization of 
 his hopes. His mind was absorbed in the 
 riot of his ambitions, when his wife came in 
 and startled him. Mrs. Rhodes was a woman 
 of middle age, and no one ever hinted that 
 the glow in her cheeks was anything but 
 good health and good spirits. There was 
 gray in her light fluffy hair, but no one no 
 ticed it ; and even her enemies admitted that 
 64
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 she carried her weight well. She associated 
 herself with gowns of the simplest and most 
 stylish cut, and her bonnets kept her gowns 
 good company. There was a large grace 
 about her tall, well-covered frame that made 
 agile, catty women envy her. When she 
 came into the office that winter day, Mrs. 
 Khodes brought the world in with her. 
 There was a brusque out-of-doorsness about 
 her, and a masterful strength in her quick 
 step that was bracing. She broke in on her 
 husband with : " Charlie Rhodes, if you ever 
 send another worthless darky out to cut 
 wood because he can carry a precinct in 
 Stringtown, I ll leave you. That creature you 
 sent out this morning hasn t done a thing all 
 day but feel of his back and grunt. I came 
 down for my new bonnet ; how do you like 
 it?" 
 
 After an exchange of courtesies, Mrs. 
 Rhodes asked : " Well, Charlie, tell me, did 
 Harvey Bolton take it ? " 
 
 The question brought the Governor up to 
 his situation abruptly. He had hoped to ap 
 proach it from his own path, leading his wife 
 in his own good time over the ground, care 
 fully picking out the advantageous avenues 
 65
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 for her to traverse toward an agreement with 
 him. A man in the ecstasy of a newly organ 
 ized plan or of a freshly rooted hope, dislikes 
 to return to the bald earth upon which the 
 plan rises or in which the hope grows. No 
 man enjoys rebuilding the temple of his plan, 
 or regenerating his hope for another s satis 
 faction. So Governor Hhodes did what most 
 men do who take their wives into their lives 
 at all he rushed into the middle of the 
 affair, and tried to drag Mrs. Rhodes with 
 him to his view of the outlook by an almost 
 endless chain of words. When they were 
 seated the man on the lounge, and his wife 
 in a stuffy, slippery, leather chair Rhodes 
 was saying : 
 
 "Of course, everything is uncertain in poli 
 tics. But this is as sure as anything can be. 
 Boiton can get the money, and we ve known 
 him too long to question his fidelity. Tom 
 Wharton is pretty bad, Lizzie, I know ; but 
 Melling would be for me. I can make Raw- 
 lins a railroad commissioner, and get him. 
 Wharton won t fight me. How would you 
 like to be Mrs. Senator Rhodes, anyway ? " 
 
 Mrs. Rhodes sat looking at a great mirror 
 above a mantel, across the room. She re- 
 66
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 plied, absently, " It looks all right, Charlie ; 
 give me time to think." And her husband 
 began again : 
 
 " Why, it s a good scheme. "Wharton feels 
 that I ought to do something for him. He 
 helped me. We ll be out of debt when we 
 leave here. We can afford it. Why don t 
 you like it, Lizzie ? " 
 
 " Why, I do like it," replied Mrs. Ehodes, 
 in a preoccupied manner. 
 
 Her husband went over the proposition 
 again from a different stand-point. He did 
 not know that he was trying to rush an en 
 dorsement of his promise from his wife before 
 she had time to consider the matter. The 
 sense of guilt was not defined in his heart. 
 Some subconscious ness must have known the 
 truth, and it must have been clamoring for an 
 approval to use in rebuttal in debates to 
 come. Ehodes finished with the words : 
 "Now, I don t see why that isn t a mighty 
 good arrangement. I thought it was, or 
 I never would have " He honestly in 
 tended to say "consented to it," but his 
 mouth said, " proposed it." 
 
 A ghost of some answer danced past Mrs. 
 Bhodes s face and twitched her forehead, but 
 67
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 she did not speak. She rose and measured 
 the room three times, walking. In the fourth 
 lap the Governor asked, " Well ? " His wife 
 stood still and faced him with: "Charlie, it 
 won t do. Don t you see it won t do? If 
 Harvey K. Bolton wouldn t take the place 
 himself, and yet would give $15,000 of Corn- 
 Belt money to keep Gardiner out, there must 
 be something disreputable for Tom Wharton 
 to do when he gets there." 
 
 Mrs. Rhodes grew suddenly pale. The 
 thought that came to her leaped to her lips : 
 " Charlie, don t you see they re trying to su 
 gar-coat a bribe? My! what a conscience 
 less rascal that Bolton is ! " 
 
 Mrs. Rhodes sat down by her husband, and 
 the two looked into space for a moment she 
 with her chin in her hand, he with his fingers 
 clasped back of his head. The woman found 
 her voice first : 
 
 " Well, now, this is a pretty kettle of fish. 
 Have you promised him Bolton ? " 
 
 " Yes," laughed her husband, ruefully ; 
 "that s the trouble." 
 
 "Well then, Charlie, you keep it. I d 
 rather see a regiment of Tom Whartons in the 
 Senate than that." Mrs. Rhodes added 
 68
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 the last phrase after hunting for her words : 
 for she was a careful woman, and loved her 
 husband well. 
 
 The Governor went to his desk, and going 
 said: " I ll tell you what I ll do. I ll get him 
 to release me." 
 
 "Do you suppose you can, Charlie? I 
 hope you can. This is a really great oppor 
 tunity for you. It doesn t come to a man 
 often to serve the people by putting a clean, 
 smart, bright man like Gardiner in the Sen 
 ate." While Mrs. Rhodes was speaking her 
 husband reached for the telephone transmit 
 ter. After the preliminaries of the telephonic 
 conversation were concluded, she heard her 
 husband say : 
 
 " That you, Harve ? This is Rhodes." 
 
 Mrs. Rhodes did not like the familiarity 
 after what had occurred, but the monologue 
 went on. 
 
 " Yes." A hollow laugh followed the kind 
 of laugh that has become a part of civilized 
 expression with the telephone. A laugh 
 palpably, intentionally funny preceded the 
 words : 
 
 " Say, Harve, you haven t said anything to 
 him, have you ? "
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Another risible demonstration followed. 
 Then: 
 
 "All right. Yes, yes. Well, say, don t 
 tell anyone about it till to-morrow." 
 
 Mrs. Rhodes wondered what was coming 
 on the wire. Her husband answered : 
 
 " Oh, no, not exactly ; but I want to talk 
 it over again. Nothing serious." Another 
 laugh was rasped off, and with "Yes. All 
 right. That s all. Good-by," the Governor 
 put up the receiver, and his wife asked : 
 "Now, how are you going about it, Charlie?" 
 
 "Oh, heavens! I don t know, Lizzie; but 
 I ll fix it some way." 
 
 As Mrs. Ehodes went down the stone sueps 
 of the Capitol a resolve began to form itself 
 in her mind. It was a nebulous resolve, and 
 the sharp winter air in her face almost blew 
 it away. When she turned into the main 
 thoroughfare of the town, the panorama of 
 the street filled the foreground of her thought, 
 and crowded into the shadow her half-formed 
 intention to help her husband in his predica 
 ment ; for in the faces that passed by her 
 Mrs. Ehodes took much interest. She looked 
 at the bonnets and the gowns of the women, 
 and she read strange stories in the eyes of 
 70
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 the passers-by. She could see all the details 
 of the tragedy in a made-over gown on a last 
 year s bride. The sacrifice of a mother in a 
 black straw hat and a shawl for a spendthrift 
 son reached Mrs. Rhodes s heart. She had 
 known the common privations that often 
 come in the course of things to the average 
 American home, and little makeshifts of dress 
 on those about her painted for the Governor s 
 wife the home-life of the wearer. As a poli 
 tician passed her, she classified him among 
 the sheep or the goats according to the sup 
 port or the trouble that he gave her husband. 
 Occasionally there passed some office-seeker 
 whose obsequiousness vexed her. The reso 
 lution that hovered about her as she came 
 down the Capitol steps had almost dissolved 
 into thin air, when a woman in noisy silks, 
 an aggressive sealskin cloak, and pronounced 
 diamond earrings flashed by Mrs. Rhodes 
 with a gracious bow. The Governor s wife 
 returned the salutation pleasantly enough, 
 and mechanically remembered that three 
 months before this woman had come to the 
 Capitol wearing a green beaver jacket and a 
 hat in its third season. Her husband was a 
 State Senator from Hancock County, and 
 
 71
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 Mrs. Rhodes wondered rather idly how a 
 woman could flaunt the signs of her hus 
 band s dishonor so openly. The Governor s 
 wife was reflecting gratefully that she would 
 take in washing before she would allow her 
 husband to barter his official acts ; then a 
 sharp anguish gripped her throat. It struck 
 Mrs. Rhodes with a flash of anger that she 
 could not pity the State Senator s wife unless 
 she stopped the appointment of Tom Whar- 
 ton. Then it was that the nebulous resolve 
 froze into a deed, and the heels of the Gov 
 ernor s wife clicked on the pavement with a 
 vim that would have told one who knew her 
 well that she was bent upon a definite mis 
 sion. Her increasing speed was the only out 
 ward and visible sign of her inward and boil 
 ing temper. The bland face and the kindly 
 smile that greeted her acquaintances would 
 have deceived the casual observer. Mrs. 
 Rhodes realized that she was about to do an 
 unusual thing. She did not shrink from the 
 visit to Bolton s office. Every week when he 
 was in town the Corn-Belt attorney was at 
 the Rhodes home. Mrs. Rhodes knew him 
 as she had often told her husband from 
 cover to cover. She had heard the gossip 
 
 72
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 about his work with legislators, but as she be 
 lieved in his ends she despised the men whose 
 cupidity made Bolton s means necessary. 
 She was tempted to turn back at Bolton s 
 door. She had an instinctive repugnance for 
 any sort of interference in her husband s 
 affairs. Not more than three men knew how 
 much influence she had in administrative 
 councils. One of these three men was Bol 
 ton. But in spite of the fact that she knew 
 of his knowledge of her place in the executive 
 cabinet, Mrs. Khodes hesitated before intrud 
 ing even in a good cause. But she brushed 
 aside her scruples on the threshold ; and the 
 next moment Harvey K. Bolton, who had 
 walked out of the Governor s office rejoicing 
 as a strong man to run a race, who loved a 
 victory for its own sake and did not look at 
 the superscription of the coin that brought 
 the victory, heard a voice that made him 
 weak for an instant and sick. He was dictat 
 ing a letter when the voice first came to him. 
 It was sweet and gentle, with not a tremor in 
 it, not a sliver on its timber. " Is Mr. Bol 
 ton in ? " 
 
 " Yes," the clerk answered. 
 
 A second later Bolton heard the rustle of 
 73
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 skirts, and Mrs. Rhodes spoke in the ante 
 room for him to hear : 
 
 "Well, Mr. Bolton, is this your busy 
 day?" 
 
 Bolton rose to greet her. "Why, Mrs. 
 Rhodes, I m glad to see you. Come right 
 in." 
 
 Mrs. Rhodes did not seem out of breath nor 
 flurried. She waited until the stenographer 
 had left the room, and then drawled, as she 
 leaned forward with her elbows on the fore 
 arms of the chair : 
 
 " Tom Wharton ! " 
 
 There was the caloric fury of a woman s 
 scorn in her voice, properly cooled by a sense 
 of humor which kept the situation out of 
 caricature. Bolton laughed with his guest, 
 and then began to spar for position. 
 
 "What s the matter with Tom ? " inquired 
 Bolton, fumbling with a paper-knife and 
 crossing his feet. " There are worse fellows 
 to have for a friend than Tom," he added. 
 
 He had been looking at the trinket in his 
 hand until he finished the sentence ; then he 
 glanced furtively at Mrs. Rhodes to see how 
 she would take the last of it. Mrs. Rhodes 
 parried it with a good-natured smile. 
 74
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 " But there is a difference between a friend 
 in politics and a Senator from your State." 
 
 Bolton answered : " Take it as a rule, the 
 fellows in politics are better than the men in 
 office. There has been a scandalous lot of 
 old brigands among the official representa 
 tives of these Western States. It has always 
 been that way. Back in the seventies a kind 
 of wagon-painter dropped into Topeka, and 
 got a contract to paint pictures of all the 
 Governors of the State for the Senate cham 
 ber. He finished the job before the Legislat 
 ure adjourned, and some patron of the arts 
 presented a resolution authorizing the wagon- 
 painter to paint portraits of Jim Lane Sen 
 ator Lane who killed himself, you ll remem 
 ber and old John Brown. When the 
 resolution came before the State Senate, an 
 old codger from Osborn County, who hadn t 
 opened his head during the session, except 
 to throw drugs, paints, and oils into his blood, 
 rose and said " 
 
 In recounting this story Bolton panto 
 mimed it. He was doing his best to kill 
 time, in the vain hope that some distracting 
 circumstance might turn the discussion from 
 what he knew to be the object of Mrs. 
 75
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Bhodes s visit. Bolton continued his story: 
 " I d sire to offer this amendment : Resolved, 
 that when th artist paints the portraits of 
 these two great Kansis statesmen these two 
 em nent Kausins, whose lives are so typical 
 of our b loved State b loved State that th 
 artist is requested to lab l the pictures so that 
 fusure gen rations may know whish gloris son 
 of Kansis was hung, and whish committed 
 suicide." 
 
 When the laugh subsided, Bolton added : 
 " As it was in the beginning, so it shall be 
 ever after, Mrs. Rhodes. Tom Wharton isn t 
 so bad when you think of him in comparison 
 with other Western Senators." 
 
 Mrs. Rhodes was not quite ready for the 
 fray, so she skirmished : " Well, that s not 
 the question. Compare him with Gardiner. 
 Gardiner s a fine fellow a man of brains and 
 honor. WTiat this State needs is that sort of 
 a representative, a man of moral courage a 
 man like you, for instance." She put the 
 full stop of half a dozen merry dim pies at the 
 end of her sentence, and her eyes danced. 
 Bolton laughed with her, and Mrs. Rhodes 
 resumed, " Now, sir, what are you and Char 
 lie going to sacrifice your trump on a two- 
 76
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 spot for ? You owe a duty now that s the 
 truth, Harvey Bolton you owe a duty to the 
 people you, just as surely as Charlie to piit 
 a strong man in the Senate from this State, a 
 man like Gardiner." 
 
 Bolton put his hands in his pockets, and 
 jingled his keys as he paced the rug. He 
 was irritated, but was too wise to show it. 
 He turned to the Governor s wife, and 
 chuckled as he stood in front of her chair. 
 "So it s Gardiner, is it?" he asked. Then 
 he spent a few seconds in effervescent fancy, 
 and finally popped out, in a fizz of merriment : 
 " Now, honestly, Mrs. Ehodes, don t you think 
 Tom Wharton in Washington would reflect as 
 much credit on this State as Mrs. Gardiner in 
 her red hat and her heliotrope satin dress? " 
 
 Mrs. Khodes might have laughed herself 
 into a surrender, but she stopped laughing to 
 reply meditatively : " Why do you suppose 
 the wives of good men and great will insist 
 on red velvet in their hats after they begin to 
 wear vermilion rubber in their teeth ? " 
 
 It was Bolton s move, and he had gained 
 
 nothing by his manoeuvre. He answered, on 
 
 a venture: "Well, now, Mrs. Ehodes, what s 
 
 the matter with Tom ? He has a machine. 
 
 77
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 What of it? He got it by telling the truth. 
 He is in politics as a business. What of 
 that? He doesn t sell out his friends. He 
 is a bull-dozer ; but that s merely a method. 
 He will take advice. He doesn t pretend to 
 know it all." 
 
 Mrs. Rhodes saw her advantage. " That is 
 all true; but why are you so anxious for 
 Wharton just now, and why do you want to 
 spend $15,000 to put him in the Senate?" 
 
 Bolton grew grave. He replied, soberly : 
 " You are wrong there, Mrs. Rhodes ; that 
 was to help Charlie." 
 
 Bolton saw that the fencing was over. The 
 little muscles at the corners of Mrs. Rhodes s 
 mouth quivered an instant, then set. Her 
 eyes lost their softness. She faced the attor 
 ney and spoke carefully, in a low voice : 
 "Mr. Bolton, that offer was cruel of you 
 cruel and ungrateful. I have always thought 
 you held Charlie and me in too high esteem 
 for that. You know how much the Senate 
 would mean to Charlie and to me also. 
 Have we not been too good friends with you 
 for you to class us with the others the 
 cattle you buy ? Did you think the Senate 
 was about our size ? " 
 
 78
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 Bolton s features did not move while she 
 spoke. She could not tell whether his face 
 wore a sneer, or whether it was curious at 
 tention that fixed his frank, clear, blue eyes 
 upon her and kept him still. He did not re 
 ply, so she continued : " Don t think I m med 
 dling. You and Charlie can do as you please. 
 You men pretend to be for clean politics. I 
 have heard you talk about corruption and its 
 dangers ; yet here you are, at your best op 
 portunity, giving the lie to your sentiments, 
 and putting up a disgraceful deal to elevate 
 the sort of men you deplore. If you go 
 ahead with this deal, you put yourself on a 
 level with that kind of men." 
 
 Mrs. Rhodes watched for some change in 
 Bolton s face ; but the eyes still met her eyes 
 fearlessly. She did not notice, however, that 
 Bolton s mouth was farther ajar than it was 
 when she turned the conversation into a mon 
 ologue. Bolton s right-hand fingers were 
 drumming on the desk beside him, and Mrs. 
 Rhodes did not notice how vigorously they 
 hit the oak. She could not see that the 
 other hand was rapidly putting a key on and 
 off a ring in his trousers pocket. When the 
 right hand rested Mrs. Rhodes saw only the 
 79
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 unblinking eyes gazing toward her fathom 
 less. 
 
 She paused, but only for a moment. She 
 proceeded : " I don t think you understand 
 the meaning of what you ve offered to Charlie 
 your friend and I m sure he doesn t. I 
 tell you, Harvey Bolton, it hurts to have you 
 do what you ve done to try to stain the 
 honor of a friend. It cuts deep to find that 
 you are so morally dead that you would 
 thoughtlessly put me beside that woman from 
 Hancock County with her sealskins and dia 
 monds you know, Senator Wilton s wife. 
 It hurts worse to know you did this thought 
 lessly than to feel that you did it with mali 
 cious knowledge." 
 
 Bolton sighed. His features displayed no 
 sign of the meaning of the muscular act. 
 Mrs. Rhodes settled back in her chair. Her 
 ruddy face had grown white, and she asked, 
 sharply : 
 
 " How much better am I, if my husband 
 trades off his State s good name for his own 
 advancement than that poor creature whose 
 husband made the Corn Belt stand and de 
 liver sealskins and diamonds for his vote 
 against that absurd maximum-rate bill?" 
 80
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 Bolton was about to speak when a messen 
 ger-boy with a telegram came into the room. 
 Mrs. Rhodes walked to the window, and 
 watched the clerks and office people scurry 
 ing homeward through the approaching twi 
 light. She could not see Bolton flush almost 
 purple. She could not see his steady eyes 
 blink, nor could she see him moisten his lips 
 with his tongue. She did not see the attor 
 ney shut his eyes tightly and brush his hand 
 across them, after he read the telegram. Bol 
 ton saw on the paper before him, over the 
 signature of the president of the Corn-Belt 
 road, this message : 
 
 " That appointment must be prevented. I 
 have just learned certainly that it will hurt 
 our interests. Take anyone but him as a 
 compromise." Bolton folded the telegram 
 up, and kept folding and unfolding it, as Mrs. 
 Rhodes from her station by the window took 
 up her monologue : 
 
 " And yet, Mr. Bolton, when the test comes, 
 you would dishonor us all. You would bribe 
 your best friend to do something you will not 
 go to the Senate and do yourself. I don t 
 know what it is." 
 
 Bol ton s unchanging expression made Mrs. 
 81
 
 STEATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Rhodes nervous. In her normal mind, she 
 would have found a hopeful sign in the fact 
 that Bolton kept creasing the telegram. When 
 Mrs. Rhodes paused, he turned to his desk 
 and wrote a few words. While his back was 
 toward her the woman said : 
 
 " I m not here asking you to release Charlie 
 from his promise. That is between you and 
 him. What I want is that you shall see what 
 you have done just as it is, and have no false 
 lights to deceive you." 
 
 In the pause Governor Rhodes entered the 
 room. Bolton, who turned quickly from his 
 desk at the sound of a footfall, regained self- 
 possession in an instant, and handed the 
 message he had been creasing to Mrs. 
 Rhodes ; and the white slip of paper, upon 
 which he had been writing his answer, he 
 passed to the Governor. Rhodes read the 
 words on the white slip and knit his brows, 
 staring from his wife to Bolton when he had 
 finished reading. Mrs. Rhodes looked up, 
 flushed with the first anger that escaped her 
 control, and said, as she handed the creased, 
 crumpled telegram from the president of the 
 Cora-Belt Railroad back to Bolton : 
 
 " That means Gardiner, I suppose." 
 
 82
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 Bolton nodded, and indicated with his eyes 
 that the Governor should hand the white 
 paper slip in his hand to his wife. Bolton s 
 face did not flinch as she read aloud the street 
 address of the president of the Corn Belt and 
 Bolton s answer which followed : 
 
 " Your wishes cannot be fulfilled. Gardi 
 ner has already been appointed." 
 
 Mrs. Rhodes leaned back in a chair and 
 said, half in a sigh and half in a smile : 
 " Well, Harvey K. Bolton, your fortune is 
 not in politics ; it s in cards. What a face 
 for poker ! " And that was all the thanks 
 that the attorney for the Corn Belt re 
 ceived. 
 
 Bolton sat down and laughed quietly. 
 Then he said to the Governor, who was just 
 grasping the situation : 
 
 " Well, Charlie Rhodes, your wife s fortune 
 isn t in cards ; it s in politics." 
 
 And yet in after days, when Harvey Bol 
 ton recalled the light in Mrs. Rhodes s liquid 
 gray eyes, as she looked up from his answer 
 to the Corn-Belt president s telegram, he 
 could not for the life of him settle in his 
 mind whether that light came from a twinkle 
 or a tear ; and being a man of some pride in 
 83
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 his discernment, he would give a decent sum 
 to any charity if he could be sure that it was 
 not a twinkle. 
 
 And now that the facts are recorded, it 
 may be just as well to know the history of 
 this transaction which the Avorld accepts. 
 Everyone concedes that history is written by 
 the newspapers, and here is what the Morn 
 ing State Times printed about the matter in 
 hand. The thrilling leader in the Times ran 
 thus : 
 
 "A VICTORY FOB THE PEOPLE. 
 
 " The appointment of John Gardiner as 
 junior Senator from this State by Governor 
 Rhodes last night is a magnificent example of 
 the power of public opinion. It was clearly 
 a victory for the people. Ring rule was re 
 buked. The star chamber had no part in the 
 choice. The Governor s ear bent to the 
 prairie grass, and he heard the voice of the 
 masses demanding this appointment. Here 
 tofore the Times has had little to commend in 
 the Rhodes administration ; but we take this 
 public opportunity to say that, in repulsing 
 the whispering fixers and old hangers-on who 
 have disgraced the State-house by their pres- 
 84
 
 A VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE 
 
 ence, Governor Khodes has spread a thick 
 mantle over his multitude of sins. For once 
 he has obeyed his constituents. This was 
 indeed and in truth a victory for the 
 people." 
 
 85
 
 A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE"
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 ONE rainy night, late in the spring, Henry 
 Myton came home to Pleasant Ridge. 
 The lights in the great Colorado express train, 
 reflecting from a thousand pools in the road, 
 and the dingy, smoking lamp in the town 
 omnibus, were the only pyrotechnics that 
 greeted him. His trunk crashed upon the 
 rickety baggage-truck, the conductor waved 
 the signal, and in the twinkling of an eye the 
 impatient glowing dragon had wormed by ; 
 the ruby jewel in the switching tail of it was 
 fading in the distance ; and the rain and the 
 dark and the petulant spring wind were left 
 to frolic over the village. Henry Myton 
 climbed into the musty bus and listened to 
 the splashing of the horses in the sloppy 
 roads. No street-lamp marked their way, and 
 to Mytou it seemed that the vehicle was 
 circling round and round. Just before he 
 gave up to sea-sickness, the long scraping 
 sound of a cramped wheel and the jerking 
 89
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 movement of the running-gear told Myton 
 that he was near his journey s end. 
 
 He scurried across the sidewalk into the 
 office of the hotel. It was a plain room. A 
 high counter ran parallel to one wall. On the 
 counter was a tarnished cigar-case and a dog 
 eared register. Opposite the counter stood 
 an ink-stained desk, surmounted by a gaudy 
 business directory, ten years out of date. 
 Near by was a long sink that held a water- 
 bucket and an earthen wash-bowl, over which 
 hung two towels. These, and a threshing- 
 machine lithograph, some patent medicine 
 prints, and a big handbill announcing a pub 
 lic sale, were the mural decorations of the 
 room. However, there had been a time when 
 those walls seemed palatial to Henry My 
 ton. Ten years before that rainy spring 
 night, he had received his first five-hundred 
 dollar check, after winning the Nellie Gordon 
 murder case. He never came back to the As- 
 tor House, Pleasant Ridge, without smiling at 
 the recollection of the vain figure he cut then, 
 leaning upon his elbows, with his back against 
 the high counter, puffing a ten-cent cigar, 
 squintiug his eyes wisely, and talking of the 
 famous victory. Triumphs minor triumphs 
 90
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 had come to Myton in that room. lu the 
 corner by the wash-stand he made the com 
 bination that brought him the nomination to 
 the State Senate. That dog-eared register 
 contained the names of the committeemen 
 who notified him of his second congressional 
 nomination. 
 
 In the old bed that creaked a familiar wel 
 come for his home-coming on that rainy 
 night, Myton took two hours before midnight 
 to consider his past, his future, and more es 
 pecially his palpable present. He found the 
 prospect distinctly different then and there, 
 from the prospect he had surveyed occasion 
 ally in the little chromo of a park in front of 
 the Norrnandie Hotel, at Washington, D. C. 
 Myton was a congressman who had come 
 back. In an expansive moment early in Jan 
 uary, Myton made a speech, recanting the 
 currency view proclaimed in the platform on 
 which he had been elected fourteen months 
 before. The doctrine that he championed in 
 that speech was deemed heretical by his party 
 in the district. His constituency was furious. 
 His party convention met in March, and 
 Myton was defeated for the nomination by a 
 man named Beale. It all happened so quickly 
 91
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 that Myton had barely begun to explain his 
 speech, when " the subsequent proceedings 
 interested him no more." He remained in 
 Washington until the end of the tedious ses 
 sion, and came home to find out definitely 
 what had hit him. 
 
 His presence in Pleasant Bldge was proof 
 of his ambition and of his wisdom. Four 
 years in Washington had furrowed a few lines 
 about his mouth, and had put a touch of pre 
 mature gray at his temples that contrasted 
 admirably with the alert look in his deep-set 
 eyes. The spark of youth lighted his coun 
 tenance and made it good to look upon. 
 During his four years at the capital there had 
 come into his smile a certain expression of 
 worldly wisdom, and the lines about his 
 mouth seemed fortifications built by a serious, 
 mastering ambition, that checked the smile 
 and kept it in metes and bounds. Myton had 
 learned many things at Washington. He went 
 there in a Prince Albert coat and a made-up 
 white necktie ; he came back in a cutaway coat 
 and a red Ascot ; he replaced his tile with a 
 hat of softer fabric. He traded many an il 
 lusion about the giants in the Senate as well 
 as in the House for the disenchanting kuowl- 
 93
 
 edge that his heroes were not above bickering 
 for places upon committees of which Myton 
 in Pleasant Ridge had never dreamed. 
 
 It was early that spring morning after his 
 return from Washington, when Myton awoke 
 in his old bed in the Astor House so early 
 that only a single wagon track had been cut 
 in the muddy main street in front of his win 
 dow. Yet the sound of the steak-pounding 
 in the kitchen below announced that the busi 
 ness day in Pleasant Eidge was about to be 
 gin. He whistled with some show of gayety 
 as he dressed. Frequently he looked up and 
 down the squatty little street with its sprawl 
 ing buildings and their ugly wooden awnings. 
 He could see the prairie lying in wait on the 
 hill and the creek crouching below each 
 checking the growth of the unpainted little 
 thoroughfare. The tune that he whistled re 
 minded him of the street piano that taught 
 him the tune, and that brought back the gay 
 capital with all its frivolity, all its beauty, all 
 its mad vanity. For the moment Myton forgot 
 his room in the Astor House, Pleasant Eidge, 
 and " dwelt in marble halls." 
 
 Myton rented a room over the bank in due 
 time and gathered up what ragged ends of his 
 93
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 former law practice he could find. For nearly 
 a month he sat upon his revolving chair and 
 seemed to loaf, inviting his soul. But he was 
 really getting his land legs after his voyage 
 upon the political sea. Two or three interest 
 ing criminal cases with important fees gave 
 him something to do. In June the National 
 convention of his party formed a currency 
 plank which endorsed Myton s January speech, 
 and made absurd the platform adopted by the 
 District convention in March. Myton dis 
 couraged those who suggested that he run for 
 Congress on a bolting ticket ; instead, he went 
 about his law business a wise course to pur 
 sue for a young man with aspirations, as Sam 
 King, Chairman of the State Central Com 
 mittee, told others besides Myton at the time. 
 Myton took up his life in the town, resuming 
 his place in the personal regard of the people. 
 Although he was out of favor with the Con 
 gressional Committee in the district, he kept 
 friends with the State Central Committee, and 
 occasionally wrote jocular letters to Sam King, 
 the State Chairman, about the progress of the 
 campaign. He made a few speeches in ad 
 joining districts and once crossed the Missis 
 sippi to help a Congressional colleague who 
 94
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 was in the thick of a hot fight. But Myton 
 saw that it was not his year for politics and 
 avoided the heat of the battle then waging. 
 Still at times there came to him homesick 
 dreams of the wide smooth lawn back of the 
 White House, of the Marine band playing in 
 the sunset light, of the women moving by in 
 pretty organdies and silks, of the Presidential 
 party bowing pleasantly in the piazza, and the 
 play of colors and the concord of sweet sound 
 through it all. 
 
 He had leisure, oceans of leisure, during the 
 long summer afternoons, and during the sum 
 mer evenings, when the stores in Pleasant 
 Kidge closed at twilight, time pressed upon 
 him heavily. He craved some substitute for 
 the life he had left. So, rather unconsciously 
 than otherwise, the nervous tendrils of his 
 being finding one support gone, reached out 
 to grapple what they might, and they found 
 and clung to a young woman. 
 
 Myton never knew just when Judge Fair 
 banks and his wife began to slip away, 
 leaving Myton and Julia together on the 
 wide veranda. But one August night, when 
 the harvest moon was shedding a ghostly 
 whiteness on the haze, and a screech owl was 
 95
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 complaining in a distant orchard, Myton and 
 Julia Fairbanks were sitting alone when the 
 clock struck eleven. Myton then made the 
 important discovery that he was not making 
 a family call. 
 
 When he stopped, half a block from the 
 house, to light his cigar, he reflected that Julia 
 Fairbanks was a clever girl. He wondered 
 what interest a girl who had been educated at 
 Wellesley could find at Pleasant Kidge. He 
 ran over the list of the town s boys of her age, 
 sons of the butcher, the baker, the candle-stick 
 maker, and of the members of the liberal pro 
 fessions of the village, and tried to guess 
 which of them would please her. The next 
 day her image crowded itself between his eyes 
 and a law book, and he cast up her years and 
 found that they were twenty-three or four. He 
 tried to recall her while she was growing up, 
 but it seemed to Myton that the last time he 
 had seen her, before that spring, she was wear 
 ing toe-slippers with white stockings, and 
 white tarlatan skirts covered with silver pa 
 per spangles the good fairy in " Cinderella," 
 at the Methodist Sunday-school Christmas- 
 tree. It puzzled Myton to account for the 
 transformation of the pipe-voiced child into 
 96
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 the demure young woman who discussed Ibsen 
 and the world s bread-stuff supply, and who 
 rejoiced in " The Taking of Lungtungpen." 
 
 Soon thereafter the scales fell from Myton s 
 eyes and he saw with a new vision. Some 
 such fine frenzy as poets must feel came upon 
 him, and the homely aspects of nature were 
 gi]decl by the glamour of a lover s eyes. He 
 took hold of his work and his life with a 
 fresh, tight grip. Certain ideals, entirely new 
 to him, grew into his being, and he found him 
 self putting his new principles into practice 
 in the unimportant matters that came to him 
 in his daily routine. 
 
 Beale, who had defeated Myton for the 
 nomination in the March convention, was 
 beaten at the polls in November. The nom 
 ination two years thereafter was open to My 
 ton, if he could rally his friends. He was 
 watching the situation eagerly, and he report 
 ed, enthusiastically, his little advantages to 
 Julia Fairbanks as the days developed them. 
 He told her all his plans, and much of their 
 talk was a discussion of the lofty places of his 
 ambition. The courtship of Myton and Julia 
 Fairbanks developed nothing extraordinary. 
 After Myton acquired Sunday night at the 
 97
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Fairbanks parlor, he claimed Wednesday night 
 by right of possession and that long before 
 either of the young people interested would 
 have admitted that there was a prearrange- 
 in en t for the occupancy of the evening. By 
 the time Wednesdays and Sundays were tac 
 itly acknowledged as pre-empted claims in 
 the social territory of the pair, an occasional 
 Monday or Friday was added by a quit-claim 
 deed, and henceforth became sacred ground 
 by tradition. Judge Fairbanks and his wife 
 soon learned to observe the Parlor Law. 
 When Mrs. Fairbanks came into the room she 
 sat on the edge of her chair, and appeared to 
 be anxious about something going on in the 
 kitchen. She never let the importunities of 
 Myton persuade her to stay. The Judge did 
 not readily learn his lesson, and so late as 
 October, he was liable to sit in the parlor and 
 talk county politics an hour after all honest 
 men should be in bed. He broke off this 
 habit suddenly, and Julia wondered vaguely a 
 number of things which she would not have 
 asked her mother about for the world. If the 
 ways of a man with a maid are like the ways 
 of an eagle in the air, and of a serpent on a 
 rock, and of a ship in the midst of the sea,
 
 which are too deep for philosophy who shall 
 even dare to fancy what may be the ways of 
 a maid with a man ! 
 
 The November night before My ton left for 
 Washington to sit in the short session of Con 
 gress, the fire in the grate lighted the Fair 
 banks parlor. Myton was restless and for a 
 time paced the rug. Julia Fairbanks sat in 
 the dusk and flashed in and out of reality. 
 The shadows played enticingly with the lines 
 of her figure. The black of her crinkly hair 
 remained in shade, framing her oval face, 
 which never entirely faded from view. The 
 red of her lips, the glow of her cheeks, and 
 the witcherjr of her eyes, were before Myton, 
 however low the flames might sink. Myton s 
 talk was choppy at first. He sat in front of 
 the grate, with the fire-poker in his hands, 
 and his elbows on his knees and was silent. 
 The tall blaze grew smaller and smaller, and 
 the furniture in the room went back into the 
 gloom. Julia Fairbanks went to the piano 
 and played " Traumerei " gently, with her foot 
 upon the pianissimo pedal. The notes of the 
 melody and the restful sequence of the har 
 mony always soothed Myton, and in the ritual 
 of their freemasonry " Traumerei " was a hail- 
 90
 
 STKATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 ing sign of sympathy. The approaching leave- 
 taking stirred Myton s heart, and strange 
 aspirations were rising from its depths. 
 When the girl had finished playing she drew 
 her chair near the fire. Myton looked at her, 
 as he was wont to do, for a minute in silence. 
 Then he turned to the fire. She waited and 
 looked into the fire with him. 
 
 "Julia," said Myton, when the spirit had 
 moved his lips, "I m sure it was for the 
 best." 
 
 She looked her question with frank, friendly 
 eyes. 
 
 "I mean the defeat last March. It was the 
 best thing that has ever happened to me. I 
 was a pretty poor excuse of a man a year 
 ago." He turned toward the fire again and 
 continued : " I was selfish ; I was little ; I was 
 tricky ; I was eaten up with an ambition to 
 win my game at any cost. I had sense enough 
 to be honest. But at heart I was a scoundrel. 
 I know it. I didn t sell my vote but, per 
 haps, I was never offered my price." 
 
 He punched the fire and brought Julia 
 Fairbanks a little nearer to him by lighting 
 the room. 
 
 " Julia, you ve helped," Myton continued. 
 100
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 He was not a voluble man and he spoke the 
 language of the soul in halting phrases. 
 
 " It seems to me, Julia, that the first four 
 months of my life here this summer were 
 spent looking out of my office window for 
 your sailor hat and that pink shirt-waist you 
 wore. When I saw them on the street of an 
 afternoon, I was happy for hours." 
 
 He meant it for a fine speech, but both 
 smiled and he felt ashamed of his failure. In 
 an abashed fervor Myton went on : 
 
 " Julia, I want to be a clean, honest man. 
 Do you see ? I had never thought much about 
 it before, but this summer I ve had time to 
 think." Julia Fairbanks nodded a response 
 and Myton resumed his monologue : 
 
 "I have only once to live and I ve got to 
 live with myself. I want to live so that I ll be 
 good company to myself when I m an old 
 man. I m going back to "Washington to-mor 
 row and I propose to try to make my record 
 worthy of my best ideals. I want to amount 
 to something. I want to make it ; but I don t 
 want to have to write hypocrite after my 
 name every time I see it in print." 
 
 There was a long pause. The mood for 
 which the man had not found adequate words 
 101
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 was upon the woman also. It set their hearts 
 a-flutter, and their mouths would fain speak 
 impassioned things. The wind of the prairie 
 was moaning a dirge outside and Julia Fair 
 banks shuddered. " What is it ? " inquired 
 Myton. 
 
 "Oh, nothing. Just a fancy. Just the 
 wind." 
 
 " Tell me about it," persisted Myton. 
 
 Julia Fairbanks leaned a little into the 
 light, which illumined her smile a warm 
 smile which sank into Henry Myton s heart 
 and glowed there. 
 
 " It s just a foolish notion about the wind," 
 she continued gently, as she stared into the 
 fire. "It seems to bear upon it the souls of 
 the dead, and they go crying by sobbing for 
 their lost happiness. They seem so desolate 
 out there on the wind, away from us all, 
 doomed to their eternal chase over the world 
 so restless so hopeless, and some clay I 
 may ride with them. It s so lonely out there, 
 Henry, so lonely." 
 
 The moan of the prairie surf rose like 
 
 a distant diapason. Myton started from 
 
 his chair impulsively. The spell upon his 
 
 tongue was loosened for a moment, and he 
 
 102
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 spoke all the poetry that was throbbing in 
 his soul. 
 
 " No, no, Julia, I feel to-night that those 
 voices on the wind come from souls that have 
 found their mates. They are singing love- 
 songs. I shall ride the wind that blows be 
 tween the worlds a thousand years, hunting 
 for you, Julia, for with you I shall find 
 peace." 
 
 The room was almost dark ; but Myton saw 
 the girl s lips and eyes and met her smile in 
 a rapture. 
 
 He made the flames leap up in the grate, 
 and a few moments later he was at the door. 
 He held her hand tightly and said only, 
 
 " Well, good-by, Julia." 
 
 She stood for a second watching him, and 
 before she closed the door Myton came back. 
 He caught both her hands. 
 
 "You will listen to my ghosts, not yours, 
 on the wind while I am gone won t you? 
 Oh, Julia, Julia, I do want to be a good man 
 for you." 
 
 In another instant he had faced about and 
 was walking down the lawn path into the 
 night. 
 
 Myton wrote Julia Fairbanks a letter at 
 103
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Chicago on his way to the Capitol. There 
 after Myton s mail contained two square en 
 velopes a week, and Pleasant Ridge gossips 
 watched Judge Fairbanks s box in the post- 
 office for the envelope with the blue engraved 
 letters upon it. 
 
 In Congress Henry Myton stood for what 
 the newspapers called the decent thing. No 
 scandal had ever tainted his name. He had 
 formed friendships among the strong men of 
 the house, and he had a literary knack of 
 writing his speeches that gave him some 
 reputation in that clique of senators, mostly 
 from the East, who know one another social 
 ly, and who control in a great measure the 
 actions of the Upper House of the National 
 Legislature. Sometimes Myton was invited 
 to political dinners where the leaders of his 
 party met and formed policies. He was con 
 sidered a coming man. When he came back 
 to sit out the short session, he still held his 
 friends, but his power was gone. He felt 
 this keenly, yet he was sustained by the 
 ozone of a great passion, and its stimulation. 
 He saw his duty and he did it with a serenity 
 that was almost felicity. But he missed 
 Julia Fairbanks. He habitually found him- 
 104
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 self wishing to share with her the pleasures 
 of his life at Washington. This gave tangi 
 ble substance to his hope to bring her back 
 with him some day. He planned the life he 
 would lead with her, speculated upon the 
 people whom they would know, and weighed 
 in fancy the probability of her admiration or 
 her dislike for everything in the capital, from 
 the Congressional Library Building to the 
 statue of Lincoln paying his laundry bill near 
 the City Hall. 
 
 In the meantime Myton was watching in 
 tently the senatorial contest progressing in 
 his State. The Legislature which met in Jan 
 uary was controlled by Myton s party, and a 
 senator of the opposite faith was at the end 
 of his term. A dead-lock in the party caucus 
 occurred. For sixty days Myton withstood the 
 temptation that came in letters and telegrams, 
 urging him, commanding him, pleading with 
 him, to come home and help one side or an 
 other. His political judgment warned him 
 away from the fight. But in the leonine days 
 of early March, when he learned that Julia 
 Fairbanks would visit an aunt at the State 
 capital, Myton started homeward. 
 
 The senatorial dead-lock in Mytoii s party 
 
 105
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 caucus occurred this way : Anything to beat 
 King, the State Chairman, was the desire of 
 forty-four legislators. Fifty-one were willing 
 to do anything to elect him ; six men voted 
 patiently for State Senator Metcalf, day in 
 and day out, while three legislators insisted 
 that there must be a clean man or there would 
 be no nomination. It took fifty-three votes 
 to nominate. In the last-named group were 
 State Senator Moulton, and two young men 
 Haff and Norris, alumni of the State uni 
 versity. These men were Myton s friends, 
 and one, whom he called Billy Haff, was his 
 classmate. This group was dubbed the Ladies 
 Auxiliary. King was supported by the party 
 machine, and he held his men in bonds strong 
 er than iron ; the men opposed to him were 
 the party malcontents, who had grievances 
 against the machine personal, vicarious, or 
 imagined. The anti-King men said that Joab 
 T. Barton, President of the Corn Belt Rail 
 road, whose name was commonly linked with 
 scandal in State politics, was furnishing King 
 with funds. The anti-King vote kept bobbing 
 about in blocks of twenties and thirties, more 
 or less, complimenting first one and then an 
 other of King s enemies. The gentlemen of 
 100
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 the Ladies Auxiliary voted for all sorts of 
 impossible candidates. 
 
 When Myton arrived at the State capital 
 he lounged through the upper corridors of the 
 political hotel for an hour or so during the 
 morning, sifting and weighing the gossip. It 
 seemed to Myton that the personality of King 
 was the strongest force in the crowd. Every 
 one was bending his energies either to help 
 King or to hinder him but it was always 
 King that was under discussion. Myton noted 
 curiously that men whom he had considered 
 exactly honest and exceptionally intelligent 
 were rallying with King, whose campaign was 
 evidently a network of intrigue, and many of 
 whose henchmen were branded in State pol 
 itics as venal and notoriously corrupt. But 
 Myton was gauging men and measures by a 
 recently acquired set of ideals. 
 
 My ton s arrival at the State capital was the 
 day s event. A morning paper declared that 
 he would be the first piece of fresh meat that 
 had been thrown into the menagerie for six 
 weeks. Myton evaded reportorial questions 
 about the senatorial situation so nicely that 
 one reporter for an afternoon paper wrote My 
 ton up as "The Tar Baby," with King as 
 107
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 " Bre er Fox " and the anti-King faction as 
 "Bre er Rabbit." 
 
 On the afternoon of his first day Myton 
 opened his watch every half hour. Julia Fair- 
 banks s train from Pleasant Ridge was due at 
 the capital at four o clock. At two o clock 
 King captured Myton and led him out of 
 the crowd. In King s room Myton sat with 
 his leg over the arm of a rickety rocking- 
 chair, while King, stocky, florid, but agile, 
 stood before the chair. King had sharp, 
 cynical brown eyes and loose set lips, that 
 twitched expressively ; a little tuft of red hair 
 crept down by each ear. He looked like the 
 foreman of a ditch gang in Sunday toggery. 
 He spoke to Myton in a dry, hard tone, beat 
 ing a sort of tune with a pudgy index finger 
 which pointed at Mytoii s nose. 
 
 " Henry, have you lit yet ? " Myton, who 
 was thinking that Julia Fairbanks s train must 
 be somewhere near Walnut at that moment, 
 shook his head. He dreaded the termination 
 of the interview. He feared to break friend 
 ship with King ; yet Myton hesitated before 
 deepening the alliance that existed. For 
 King, as Chairman of the State Central Com 
 mittee, Myton had the utmost respect. For 
 108
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 King, if he bad chosen to become warden of 
 the penitentiary, Myton would have worked 
 with efficient enthusiasm. But for King in 
 the United States Senate, Myton felt an ir 
 ritating moral revulsion which he could not 
 define, and which was put in the shadow by 
 the disquieting sense that it would be imprac 
 ticable to an important degree to make an 
 enemy of King. When Myton gave a nega 
 tive nod to his head, he was about decided to 
 use diplomacy. 
 
 " All right, then, son, I need you. I have 
 got to have you in this fight." This came 
 after King had paced the room twice. His 
 brown Irish eyes were poking about in My- 
 ton s countenance trying to fix his gaze. 
 Myton looked at him suddenly, and fancied 
 that the brown eyes were kept from shifting 
 by sheer force of will. Myton thought he would 
 tell that to Julia Fairbanks, and he saw the 
 dimple sink in her cheek. Smiling inwardly 
 he damned King and replied : 
 
 " What can I do, Colonel, I ve expired, I m 
 cancelled. I ain t in it. Why don t you talk 
 to the people now on earth ? " 
 
 Myton looked at his watch when the parley 
 began, and figured out that Julia Fairbanks 
 109
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 was passing Cedar Grove. When he fancied 
 that she was at Belton, ten miles nearer the 
 capital than the Grove, Myton saw that the 
 lariat of his diplomacy was getting rather 
 tight, for King was saying : 
 
 " Henry, you ain t dead, and if you are, I 
 can just about perform a miracle on you. If 
 you ll listen to me two or three minutes I can 
 shoot a little elixir of life into you that will 
 tone you up a whole lot. See here : You can 
 fix that Ladies Auxiliary gang for me. They 
 believe you are a lovely character and can 
 crochet tidies, and what you say goes. They 
 think I ve got horns and hoofs and a forked 
 tail. None of my fellows can get next to them. 
 You can." King was walking up and down 
 the room. Myton tried to interject a protest; 
 but King continued : " I absolutely know 
 that them pie-faced kids will vote for me, if 
 you ll tell em I m straight you know that 
 I m all right. Square these damn stories 
 they re telling about me the, the you know 
 the railroad bill business and the that story 
 about the gamblers damn lies out of whole 
 cloth." 
 
 King s embarrassment in the latter part of 
 his declaration was so evident that Myton s 
 110
 
 amusement dominated his caution and he 
 gave King a left-over smile that was intended 
 for Julia Fairbanks. King found encourage 
 ment, took a jug from the lower compartment 
 of the wash-stand and began pouring brown 
 liquor into a thick water-tumbler. 
 
 "Here s a little somethin pretty fair," said 
 King, as he balanced the neck of the jug on 
 the tumbler s edge. But Myton waved the 
 liquor aside. King emptied the glass, smack 
 ing his lips to get the last drop. Myton had 
 seen King in action before. The younger 
 man s trained eye caught in the elder man s 
 face certain unmistakable signs which indi 
 cated that the important part of the meeting 
 was about to develop. The choppers and roll 
 ers and hammers and burnishers of Myton s 
 mind were working with lightning speed, mak 
 ing a decision. They worked almost involun 
 tarily, and the motive that moved them was 
 not ambition, nor discretion, but a high im 
 pulse. For the charm of Julia Fairbanks 
 held him in a spell. King, with his hands 
 locked behind him, paced the floor and con 
 tinued : 
 
 " What s the matter with this proposition, 
 Henry? You make me a senator and I ll 
 111
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 make you a congressman. You can do it just 
 as easy as rollin off a log. And I can fence 
 up that nomination bog-tight for you. Beale 
 is beaten ; he s out of it, and you and I can 
 get you that nomination on a silver platter." 
 
 King s words grappled with My ton s 
 impulse, and Julia Fairbanks s thrall was 
 almost broken. To return to Congress meant 
 much to Henry Myton. 
 
 There was a knock at the door. Before 
 King opened it, he said, holding his hand on 
 the door-knob : 
 
 " Here come the cherubs. All you got to 
 do is to stand by me and you go to Congress. 
 What do you say, Henry ? " 
 
 The knocking was repeated. 
 
 "It s all right, ain t it? " asked King. 
 
 Myton had risen and was leaning against a 
 table. He was buttoning his square-cut, 
 double-breasted coat. He replied : 
 
 " Well, let em come in anyhow, and we ll 
 talk it over." 
 
 Haff and Norris entered. An embarrass 
 ing minute passed with trivial formalities. 
 Then King plunged into the matter nearest 
 his heart. 
 
 " Gentlemen, I ve got to have you with me 
 112
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 in this fight. You two boys can make me a 
 United States senator. If I am elected I 
 shall owe you more than anyone else. My 
 first obligation will be to you. You ve heard 
 a lot of rough things about me ; but did any 
 one ever tell you I d lie ? Don t you sup 
 pose that if I d ever deserted a friend he 
 would be here to accuse me now ? I know 
 why you haven t voted for me. I couldn t 
 convince you that all this stuff they ve been 
 peddling about me is lies. But you know 
 Henry Myton. You know what he stands 
 for. He has come all the way from Wash 
 ington to tell you just what kind of a fellow 
 1 am." Myton fixed his eyes upon King 
 during the recital of the electioneering pat 
 ter, and thought of a soap fakir. For the 
 moment King forgot his trick of looking his 
 auditors in the face and looked at the floor. 
 His hands sank deeper and deeper into his 
 trousers pockets. He turned to Myton ; 
 Haff and Morris followed with their eyes. 
 They saw the two furrows that enclosed 
 Myton s smile deepen, and a maze of little 
 lines come out around his steety eyes. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Myton," said King, "I want 
 you to tell these men, who believe in you, 
 113
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 and who know you ve known me in politics 
 for ten years, just what you think of my 
 candidacy. I want an honest opinion, and 
 so do they." 
 
 Julia Fairbanks was Myton s prompter. 
 He stood erect and spoke with a cigar in the 
 corner of his mouth. But before he spoke 
 he took one last hungry look, in fancy, at the 
 lights on Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington. 
 
 " Boys, I ve been in this room fifteen min 
 utes. In that time Sam King has offered to 
 make me a congressman again, if I ll make 
 you fellows believe that he s the man to send 
 to the Senate." 
 
 King was slow in comprehending the 
 meaning of the sentence, and before he could 
 protest, Myton continued : 
 
 "I haven t a thing in the world against 
 Sam King. He s a good fellow, and a friend 
 of mine but he s no more fitted to represent 
 this State in the Senate than Captain Kidd 
 is to act as recording angel." 
 
 There was a rapier-like twinkle in Myton s 
 eyes, as he added : 
 
 "Of course, this is in confidence. Sam, 
 you got a match ? " 
 
 In his stupor King fumbled for a match. 
 114
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 Myton picked one from the table, and, before 
 Haff and Morris knew whether he was joking 
 or in earnest, he had turned the lock and 
 was in the hall doorway. There he heard 
 King sneer : 
 
 " You re a hell of a feller, now, ain t you ? 
 But I ll cure you of suckin eggs, all right." 
 
 Myton walked rapidly down the corridor, 
 distributing an absent-minded smile to 
 friends and foes and strangers alike. In an 
 hour the story of what Myton had said of 
 King had become the property of the gossips 
 in the hotel lobby. 
 
 Now, no one is so entirely ignorant of the 
 motives that move men as the practical poli 
 tician unless, perhaps, the impractical fellow 
 in politics is to be reckoned with. So it 
 happened that when Myton s throwing over 
 of King made the young ex-congressman a 
 prominent figure in the political situation, no 
 one guessed the spring that had controlled 
 his action. It was agreed that he was a 
 power ; that he had displayed unlooked-for 
 courage and uncommon honesty. And there 
 was a score of wild surmises about the selfish 
 end he had in view when he declined to com 
 
 bine with King. 
 
 115
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 The effect of Myton s rebuff of King was 
 not perceptible upon the surface. Yet King 
 felt that Myton had hurt him. A political 
 boss is a hypnotist. He holds his power by 
 a constant repetition, in a thousand ways, of 
 the declaration that his power exists. Every 
 denial of this direct suggestion weakens his 
 influence. Sam King was not a psychologist ; 
 but he knew human nature which amounts 
 to the same thing in the long run. He felt in 
 his bones that Myton s action would cripple 
 him. He knew instinctively, that if one man 
 could rebuke him publicly, others might cease 
 to fear him. That night a rumor gained some 
 corridor credence, that King had lost two 
 votes whose they were the rumor did not 
 specify. The rumor was really a premonitory 
 sign of the decay of King s prestige. A man 
 had insulted the basswood joss. The man 
 still lived. Was the joss a joss, or only a 
 basswood image ? Thus worked the logic of 
 the crowd in the hotel lobby. 
 
 While Myton was off skylarking with Julia 
 Fairbanks, in the latter part of the afternoon, 
 the managers who controlled three groups, 
 aggregating forty-four votes of the anti-King 
 forces, had agreed to give Myton a compli- 
 116
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 mentary vote at the caucus the evening of 
 the following day. At supper-time these 
 managers explained to Myton that he could 
 probably get Haff, Norris, and Moulton, and 
 with forty-seven votes for United States sen 
 ator he would be in excellent standing in his 
 party when the congressional fight occurred 
 in his district. But at the after-supper con 
 ference the anti-King managers were careful 
 to lay polite stress on the fact that the vote 
 would be merely complimentary. 
 
 When Julia Fairbanks came down the 
 steps of the car at four o clock that day and 
 gave Myton her gloved hand, it seemed to 
 him that everything that could happen for 
 good in the world was occurring. The ra 
 diance of her smile entranced him. In the 
 street-car they chatted in a strained way, as if 
 they knew it was the preface of the story. 
 Myton sat close to Julia Fairbanks, and he 
 fancied that she leaned away from him. 
 Their talk found its way into politics. As 
 the car passed the State House, the young 
 woman was saying : 
 
 " Well, I do so hope that King won t get 
 it. He stands for everything that is vile and 
 disreputable in politics in this State." 
 117
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 "Yes," replied Myton, "King is bad 
 enough, but he is a prattling babe in infamy 
 compared to old Barton who owns him. I ve 
 something to tell you to-night when I see 
 you. I ve been on the Jericho road to-day 
 fell among thieves." 
 
 The girl laughed, " "Well, just so you don t 
 fall in with that King creature." 
 
 When Myton left Julia Fairbanks at the 
 door of her aunt s house, he felt that her 
 words had justified his course with King. 
 
 The afternoon slipped away and all the 
 scenes of intrigue, rivalry, and strife that 
 passed before Myton s eyes passed as the 
 scenes upon a panorama. He was not 
 moved from the mooring of his passion. He 
 was longing for the night as the hart panteth 
 for the water of the brooks. 
 
 In the corner of the room wherein Myton 
 waited for Julia Fairbanks stood a miniature 
 figure of the Winged Victory. The mute 
 figure, poised for fight, seemed to lift Myton 
 upon its pinions. When he heard a rustle of 
 silks, he rose to a subordinate heaven. She 
 entered, and some demi-god in the particular 
 heaven wherein Myton sojourned turned on 
 all the splendors of a transcendent electrical 
 118
 
 "A TEIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 display. And then Myton and Julia Fair 
 banks rose to another heaven the heaven 
 where journeys end in lovers meeting. 
 
 Half an hour later, when Myton s eyes and 
 those of Julia Fairbanks had become accus 
 tomed to the bright light of their new para 
 dise of betrothal, they were sitting in front of 
 the fire in the grate and Myton was saying : 
 
 "Julia, do you know you have been with 
 me all day helping me to be a better man 
 than I could have been a year ago." The 
 girl s hand was clasped in Myton s. The 
 sense of possession was so strong in him that 
 when Julia Fairbanks shook her head in pro 
 test, Myton all but forgot his pride in his 
 self-conquest. 
 
 " Yes," he continued, " I could have told a 
 lie about King to-day that would have sent 
 me back to Congress and King to the Senate. 
 But I would have deceived my friends and 
 would have betrayed the faith they put in 
 me ; probably a year ago I would have done 
 just what King wanted me to do, but, Julia, 
 dear, you were with me. Your ideals braced 
 me." 
 
 While Myton told his story, Julia Fair 
 banks listened in two selves in a normal 
 119
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 conscious self, attentive to the details of the 
 incident ; and in a second self, a woman 
 learning for the first time the lesson that the 
 serpent taught to Eve, the lesson of a 
 woman s power. While Myton was telling 
 his sweetheart about his grapple with King, 
 the serpent was leading the woman toward 
 the forbidden tree, to show her the excellent 
 glory of Washington. 
 
 When he closed his story, Myton said : 
 " Dearest, I don t care for politics. I don t 
 care for Washington, I mean if I have to pay 
 that price for it. We can go back to Pleas 
 ant Ridge you and I and live happy in the 
 knowledge that we have kept clean and hon 
 est. I can make more money practising law 
 than we can lay by in Washington. We can 
 have a beautiful home, and even in Pleasant 
 Ridge read the world s best books, and enjoy, 
 in their times and seasons, the world s best 
 things. Can t we darling ? " 
 
 Myton fondled that word ; the permission 
 to use it meant such a surrender of his sweet 
 heart s body and soul into his keeping. 
 When he had finished Julia Fairbanks did 
 not seem to share Myton s exaltation. In a 
 short pause that followed his speech, she 
 120
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 shifted restlessly in her chair. She knitted 
 her brow and said, reflectively : " Can he 
 keep you out of that nomination, Henry ? " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose he can," Myton answered. 
 
 He was surprised to find himself harboring 
 a vague feeling that he had fumbled in some 
 way. He asked : " You think I did right, 
 don t you, Julia ? " 
 
 Myton saw the gray wings of a doubt flit 
 across Julia Fairbanks s face. She leaned 
 forward with her chin in her hand, and her 
 finger beating her lips nervously. Her large 
 brown eyes met Myton s caressingly before 
 she answered : " You are a good, brave man, 
 Henry." Her voice dropped to a meditative 
 monotone as she went on : " But you pay 
 such a dear price for your courage." 
 
 Myton laughed and replied : " Honesty in 
 politics is generally considered a luxury for a 
 poor man." 
 
 Julia Fairbanks laughed with her lover. 
 
 " Oh, I wish you could go back," and 
 then she added, "I suppose King is very 
 angry." 
 
 " Of course he s angry and of course I ll go 
 back some time. The anti-King fellows are 
 going to give me a complimentary vote in the 
 121
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 caucus to-morrow night as a starter; but I 
 wanted to do something worth bringing here 
 to-night, something worthy your lover. Do 
 you understand, Julia ? " 
 
 Myton s face was serious as he spoke and 
 his hand, obeying the yearning in his heart, 
 reached toward her. 
 
 She almost whispered her reply, " Yes, 
 yes, I understand, Henry," and then, in a 
 surer voice, added : " I m so ambitious for 
 you. I m so proud of you." 
 
 Her partisanship for him warmed Myton 
 through. He forgot the vague hurt in his 
 heart. He asked, gently : " Would you like 
 to go to Washington, Julia ? " 
 
 She leaned forward and touched his hand 
 with her cheek in a swift caress and whis 
 pered : "With you!" 
 
 The soft stir of her silks, the upward flash 
 from her brown eyes and the touch of her 
 cheek went over Henry Myton like fire. 
 When the fire had waned he found himself 
 kneeling by Julia Fairbanks s chair, her 
 hands in his, drinking her smile in a mad 
 thirst and exclaiming : " You shall go Julia, 
 you shall, you shall." 
 
 And thus Julia Fairbanks discarded the 
 122
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 serpent s primer. She opened the next book, 
 and read. 
 
 " Henry, wouldn t it be well for you to go 
 back soon I mean very soon, while your 
 prestige still holds ? " 
 
 Myton had risen and was walking the floor 
 with his fingers locked behind him when he 
 answered, "Perhaps." He found a footstool 
 and put it close to her, where he could sit 
 with his head against her chair-arm and 
 look into the fire. 
 
 Julia Fairbanks took up her words where 
 Myton had cut them. " It would be so good 
 to go back now, while we are both young, 
 before we are jaded; with the zest of life 
 still keen in us." 
 
 Myton touched her hand reverently. " We 
 shall always be young, Julia, we shall never 
 be jaded so long as we have each other." 
 
 " Henry, dearest, I don t want you to 
 spend the best of your life in the Ridge. I 
 wish there was some way you could fix it up 
 honorably with King." 
 
 Before he could reply she bent toward him 
 
 and touched his cheek shyly with her fingers. 
 
 Her touch struck the pendulum of his heart 
 
 and set it jumping. She smiled down upon 
 
 123
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 him. " How handsome you are, Henry, and 
 you are mine, mine, mine." 
 
 Myton turned toward her upon a foot and 
 a knee. His lips trembled as he whispered 
 her name and clasped his arms about her. 
 The trustfulness that Henry Myton saw in 
 her face stilled the tremble on his lips and 
 deepened the light in his eyes. 
 
 The wind soughed mournfully in the elm- 
 trees on the lawn outside. Myton heard the 
 sighing wind, and said, tenderly : " The 
 wind from home is here our prairie wind, 
 with all our familiar spirits that ride upon it. 
 The good people have breathed your name, 
 little girl, a thousand times to me while we 
 have been apart ; how they must envy us our 
 flesh and the ecstacy of dancing blood." 
 
 She answered, in a voice as tender as his 
 own : 
 
 " Maybe they do know our ecstacy, for I 
 have stood and thrown my kisses to you 
 upon the wind a thousand times these last 
 months; did the ghosts bring them safely, 
 dearest ? " 
 
 The red blood from her heart stained the 
 girl s cheeks and the man s lips were dry. 
 Their eyes burned with an unsteady glov,-, 
 124
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 liers through half-shut lids. Words were in 
 adequate and the wind spoke for them. 
 
 She let her hands rest upon his shoulders 
 and asked, with gentle earnestness : " Can t 
 you fix it up with King ? Some way, honor 
 ably ? " She pitched her voice with the wind 
 and crooned with it : " Think of Pleasant 
 Ridge, Henry, dreary, dead, desolate ; and 
 then of the life you are leaving, with all its 
 opportunities, all its riches. In the Ridge, 
 you are buried ; in Washington, you are a 
 power for good. Can t you do more good in 
 Congress, Henry, than King can do harm ? 
 I want you to be my great man." 
 
 Myton saw through a glass darkly. Yet 
 he saw the vivid red of two half-closed lips, 
 a new light beam alluringly in the eyes he 
 loved and felt and that was the last of him 
 the frankincense of his sweetheart s breath 
 upon his face. His lips made the words : 
 " I ll do any thing in the world for you, Julia." 
 
 Her hands slipped from his shoulders, 
 her fingers met and her arms were about 
 his neck, and she answered : " Won t you fix 
 it up with King, some way honorably ? to 
 morrow ? " 
 
 Myton s arms drew her closer. The world 
 125
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 spun under him a thousand ages away. The 
 serpent slipped out of the garden. 
 
 Henry Myton went out into the glory of 
 the night. He rejoiced in the awful miracle 
 of the stars and he " wist not that God had 
 departed from him." For he was planning, 
 with an alert mind that knew no moral re 
 straint, to gratify Julia Fairbanks s ambition 
 at any cost. As he walked, a bold scheme 
 spread its meshes before his fancy, and with 
 a flush of exultation, Myton took it up and 
 set it to snare his game. 
 
 Before Myton went to bed that night he 
 secured the promises of Haff, Moulton, and 
 Norris to vote for him in the party caucus the 
 following evening, on a complimentary ballot. 
 He was gratified to see his name in the head 
 lines of four morning papers on the breakfast- 
 table, as a senatorial possibility. 
 
 An hour later Myton met King in an upper 
 corridor of the hotel. Myton approached 
 King with a cheerful, " Good-morning, Colo 
 nel ! " King stared coolly at Myton a mo 
 ment before replying : " So you want to go 
 to the Senate, do you ? You re a pretty 
 damn smooth scoundrel, you are." 
 
 The two men were alone. Mytos. returned, 
 126
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 in a lowered tone : " Colonel, will you meet 
 rne at Barton s office in half an hour? I m 
 going down there, and I want to talk to you." 
 
 King knew that Myton was in earnest. 
 There was a grip about Myton s cigar that 
 held a painful reminder for King of his recent 
 meeting with Myton. A mutual friend join 
 ing them chaffed Myton and King about 
 their candidacies, and King found no oppor 
 tunity to answer Myton s question. But 
 when Myton entered Barton s office he found 
 King there. While the three men were in 
 the threshold of their conference, the spidery 
 little eyes of Barton crawled over Myton with 
 revolting familarity. This irritated Myton. 
 Perhaps Barton knew that he could force 
 Myton to come to a point with his business 
 before Myton was ready, for Myton plunged 
 into the object of the conference after wasting 
 but a few minutes. 
 
 "I am in this senatorial race to stay; I 
 can get forty-seven votes to-night on the first 
 ballot. Colonel King is at the end of his 
 rope. He is not as strong as he was two 
 days ago. He can t be nominated. I can 
 be. I need six votes. You gentlemen have 
 got them. Can I have them ? " 
 127
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 My ton rose as he spoke, put his foot in his 
 chair, and leaned with one hand on the 
 crooked knee. There was no reply to his 
 request. He continued : " I will let Colonel 
 King name a United States Marshal, a col 
 lector of the port, in his town, and a United 
 States District Attorney. You can either 
 take that offer, or I ll go to Metcalf and make 
 the deal with him. You can t make a deal 
 with him, because he doesn t trust you. 
 You ve tried. He has refused to cast his 
 votes for me with the rest of the anti s, 
 because I haven t had a down talk with him. 
 I prefer to do business with you, because I 
 know you can deliver the goods. Maybe he 
 can, maybe he can t. But I want a yes or no 
 answer from you before I leave." 
 
 The furrows in Myton s face bit into his 
 cheek. His nerves worked like steel wires. 
 His voice was steady and hard. King caught 
 Barton s eyes and they dropped. He found 
 no reassurance in them. King began to 
 drum on his chair-arm. An instant later his 
 fear of Barton was justified, for Barton s 
 reply was : 
 
 " Of course we couldn t afford to do that." 
 King knew that Barton was dallying with the 
 128
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 proposition. Myton buttoned up his top 
 coat, picked up his hat, and said, as he 
 reached for his gloves : 
 
 " All right, you gentlemen know your busi 
 ness ; but I ve given you a chance." 
 
 His face was toward the door. He did not 
 see Barton pantomime Kiug to call Myton 
 back. 
 
 " Hold on, Henry, don t be so fast. We re 
 your friends all right. Let s talk this thing 
 over." 
 
 Barton s eyes and Myton s met ; the two 
 men gazed at each other for a moment, and 
 King saw them reach an understanding. 
 
 " Your offer to Sam is generous enough, I 
 guess," said Barton. " But you see, Mr. 
 Myton, you don t know the situation ; " Bar 
 ton appeared to be looking over his desk for 
 something, in a short pause that followed. 
 He was really only marshalling his diplo 
 macy to say: " You see he s spent quite a 
 little money all legitimately, you under 
 stand, but he isn t a rich man and can t 
 afford to lose it." 
 
 Myton shuddered. The whimsical super 
 stition that someone was walking over his 
 grave caught his fancy. But his sane mind 
 129
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 saw that the question was one of dollars and 
 cents a clear case of bargain. But Julia 
 Fairbanks s eyes danced before him. 
 
 My ton stilted on Barton s pretence and 
 addressed King. 
 
 " Colonel, if that s the way the laud lays I 
 can t help you, I have no money." 
 
 Barton waited for King to speak. King 
 answered, dryly : 
 
 "What s the matter with your note?" 
 
 " It isn t worth a damn," returned Myton, 
 relighting his cigar the second time in five 
 minutes. 
 
 He was seated at a table. King was pac 
 ing the floor. Barton sat facing Myton. 
 King asked : "Mr. Barton, will you discount 
 Myton s note for $20,000? " 
 
 Myton caught his breath. 
 
 " Well, you better find out if he ll sign it 
 first," replied Barton. 
 
 There was something almost humorous in 
 the glitter of Barton s eyes as he spoke. 
 
 "What do you say, Henry?" This came 
 from King. 
 
 Something dying in Myton s soul tried to 
 rise, but it passed, and Myton answered : 
 
 "Bring on your note." 
 130
 
 "A TEIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 Myton was not looking at King, but at 
 Barton, who coughed nervously, and said: 
 " You understand I hold the note ? " 
 
 Myton lighted his cigar again. After he 
 had signed the note he gave it to Barton. 
 He did not fear treachery. He had debated 
 that point. The three rose and King spoke : 
 
 " It may be just as well if we don t hold 
 any further conferences till after this nom 
 ination is made. It might arouse the sus 
 picions of some of them Band of Hope fel 
 lows. The good St. Moulton of Arapahoe 
 County might find some irregularities in the 
 minutes of this meeting ; eh, Henry ? " My 
 ton did not heed the thrust. He was en 
 thralled by the vision of power. Desire to 
 win puts a callous on a man that numbs him 
 like the chill of death. 
 
 When Henry Myton returned to his hotel 
 from Barton s office, he found a note from 
 Julia Fairbanks waiting for him. It was a 
 note that hailed him as Thane of Cawdor, 
 who should be king thereafter. Julia Fair 
 banks had seen My ton s name in the head-lines 
 in the morning papers, and under the head 
 lines she had read that he was a senatorial 
 possibility. Her missive contained just the 
 131
 
 STEATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 number of endearing words to recall to My- 
 ton for a vivid moment his sweetheart s per 
 sonality. He put the note in his pocket and 
 touched it fondly during the day as he went 
 his way. All his energy was bent to his 
 purpose. He simulated indifference, yet he 
 racked his ingenuity to make excuses for 
 being with the anti-King leaders during the 
 entire afternoon. His anxiety did not abate 
 until he walked with them into the Senate 
 Chamber where the caucus was about to be 
 held. But when the meeting had been called 
 to order, Henry Myton sat alone in the back 
 part of the hall. 
 
 The madness of the chase was gone. The 
 tense cord of his passion for victory relaxed. 
 His energy was spent, and a chill of horror 
 began to creep over Myton as he realized, in 
 a sober reaction from his folly, what he had 
 done. The horror bound him about the body 
 like cold iron. He shuddered as he saw him 
 self more clearly. Self-loathing rose in him 
 and filled the feverish ducts of remorse. 
 The insanity of sheer terror make Myton 
 hope that Barton would fail to fulfil their 
 bargain. 
 
 The roll-call started. In the "A s" and 
 132
 
 " B s " and " C s " the King men voted for King, 
 the Metcalf men for Metcalf. The anti-King 
 men voted for Myton. Each time his name 
 was called down through the " E s " and 
 "Fs"and "D s," Myton felt that he must 
 stop the balloting. When Haff voted for My- 
 tou there was a clapping of hands on the aiiti- 
 Kiug side of the house. Myton was writhing 
 in his soul, with the grip of remorse that is 
 fresh. He clutched Julia Fairbanks s letter. 
 He tried to find sustaining grace in it. For 
 a minute it buoyed him. Then Moulton voted 
 for Myton. A faint cheer arose. A hundred 
 faces looked toward him. Myton sank in his 
 chair. The crowd thought that modesty drew 
 him down ; but he shrank from the eyes of 
 his friends. In the " S s " the last of the anti- 
 King votes was polled, and Myton had forty- 
 seven votes. He lacked six. Taylor, a King 
 supporter, voted for Myton. A cheer of sur 
 prise burst forth. Myton started to rise and 
 stop the roll-call. While it progressed and 
 until that moment he had hoped that some 
 thing would happen to prevent the consum 
 mation of the fraud he had planned. He hoped 
 as a doomed man hopes. Turner voted for 
 Myton. He was dazed with the inevitableness 
 133
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 of bis fate. He tried to rise ; something from 
 his sweetheart fettered him. Perhaps it came 
 from her note in his clinched hand. So he 
 only leaned forward. Thorn voted for Myton. 
 The cheer that went up had hats in it. Ver- 
 non s vote for Myton created pandemonium. 
 Yates and Weston voted by mounting chairs 
 and yelling with the mob. 
 
 When it was all over, when the speeches 
 were said, when the crowd had dispersed, 
 Myton s heart was numb. He felt a blind de 
 sire to be with Julia Fairbanks. It was not to 
 share the triumph with her that he longed for 
 her, not to be revived by the warmth of her 
 smile, not even to reproach her ; the indefin 
 able yearning for something strong outside 
 himself the yearning that older men and 
 women feel when they call on God brought 
 Myton to Julia Fairbanks, weary, sick, and 
 sore. 
 
 The telephone had told her of his nomina 
 tion. Myton, haggard and w r orn, entered the 
 room where the figure of the winged Victory 
 was. He stood for a moment, waiting, and 
 faced the white figure, leaning his head upon 
 its pedestal. His breast was heavy with sobs 
 that would not rise. He was heedless of the 
 134
 
 "A TKIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 premonitory sounds that told of Julia Fair- 
 banks s approach. 
 
 She came to Myton with her head poised 
 for the crown of her coming glory. Her eyes 
 beamed, her cheeks glowed ; her lips were 
 parted and her countenance shone with the 
 vanity of triumph that was palpitating her 
 nerves. Her crinkly black hair was knotted 
 high upon her head. A little pulse throb 
 bing in her bare white throat was a visible 
 sign of her spiritual exultation. The white 
 wool house-dress that she wore was girdled 
 under her arms with white ribbon ; from it the 
 lines of drapery that fell to the hem of the gar 
 ment suggested rather than traced her figure. 
 She might have stepped from a picture. 
 
 On the threshold she greeted him with 
 " Senator," and put the essence of her pride 
 in a smile. 
 
 The smile and her greeting stung him. 
 Another instant she was in his arms. He did 
 not speak ; but looked deeply into his sweet 
 heart s eyes, and for all his remorse Henry 
 Myton thrilled with the kiss she gave him ; 
 but a minute later he shuddered away from 
 her and cried : 
 
 "No, no, Julia, go away from me I m 
 
 135
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 unclean Julia, don t touch me." She saw the 
 marks of sadness upon him and that the 
 spark in his eyes was dead. The lines in 
 her forehead knit, but the flame in her cheeks 
 did not quench. 
 
 "Why, Henry dearest " she exclaimed, 
 "what is it?" 
 
 He took a chair and she came near him. 
 He held his head in his hands and fixed his 
 eyes on the floor. 
 
 "Julia," he began, "I have done a vile 
 thing. I have sold my honor for money 
 and have bought my way into the United 
 States Senate." She punctuated his words 
 with an exclamation. " I have deceived my 
 best friends. I have traded upon their faith 
 in me and have made mock of the highest 
 sentiments a man may hold. Oh, Julia, Julia, 
 I am in a hell, I, who was sanctified by your 
 love, I, who was glorified even as the angels 
 are. I am black and damned in perfidy." 
 
 The girl did not understand his mood. 
 She did not wish to realize it. She felt that 
 it placed no serious obstacle in the way of 
 her happiness. She moved toward him and 
 replied : 
 
 " Oh, no, Henry, you are tired to-night. 
 136
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 to-morrow you will see things differently. 
 Tell me about it, dearest I am not ashamed 
 of anything you could do. How have you 
 sold yourself? " 
 
 When he finished his story, omitting none 
 of the details, she replied : 
 
 " Dearest, that isn t so bad. You needn t 
 sell yourself to Barton. Don t the senators 
 make investments and make money honestly ? 
 I know you can. Oh, my dear boy, I have 
 faith in you, I know you can." 
 
 Myton leaned back in the chair and shook 
 his head. 
 
 " Julia, there s no use." The emotion had 
 left his voice and he spoke in a hopeless 
 tone. "Once in a while there is a senator 
 who goes in for investments, and the decent 
 men in the Senate have an ugly name for 
 him. Such a man is soon known. He is as 
 a scarlet woman. Honest men shun him and 
 soon they will shun me. They will say : 
 There s Myton, he s gone over the hill. 
 There s Henry Myton who used to live de 
 cently he s on the make now. He will take 
 money or investments. He will be num 
 bered with the doubtfuls. They will know 
 me for what I am, not for what I have been. 
 137
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SrOILS 
 
 The man they knew, the man you loved yes 
 terday, is dead." 
 
 There was a silence between the two lovers. 
 The girl slipped from her chair and knelt be 
 side Myton s chair with her arms about his 
 shoulders. She broke the silence : 
 
 " Henry, oh, Henry, maybe I can help you 
 you called me your guiding star last night. 
 Have I set thus soon ? Dearest, let us be 
 brave and forget all this something will 
 come to make it all right." 
 
 She crept closer to his side. A long gust 
 of wind sighed mournfully by. The girl 
 looked up with a smile and said : 
 
 " Why, dearest it s all the same there s 
 our wind, our very same wind that carries 
 our old friends the ghosts singing their love- 
 songs for us." 
 
 Mytoii let her slip from his arms and cried, 
 in despair : 
 
 " Oh, my God, my God, and I shall ride 
 with them the fallen ones, the restless ones, 
 who spend eternity sobbing for their yester 
 days." 
 
 The wind crooned its dreary monody again. 
 A sob shook Myton and he cried : " My 
 dead self of yesterday is out there, Julia, 
 138
 
 "A TRIUMPH S EVIDENCE" 
 
 bunting me, haunting me. Hear it? Hear 
 it?" 
 
 About the time of the election of Senator 
 Myton, there was a bitter discussion in the 
 newspapers and magazines over an article 
 read before the national meeting of a society 
 for sociological research, by a professor in a 
 woman s college. In the course of the article 
 were these paragraphs not altogether im 
 pertinent and irrelevant here : 
 
 "The new woman, that is to say, the edu 
 cated woman, is just coming into her king 
 dom. Naturally she will make mistakes. 
 Since the beginning of time, woman generi- 
 cally has been a theorist in worldly affairs. 
 She has been a critic rather than an actor. 
 She has enjoyed the luxury of ideals, but she 
 has had little experience in the rough, hard, 
 disagreeable work of building these ideals 
 into structures of actual life. In this carpen- 
 tery women are likely to mash their toes and 
 fingers, and those of their friends and loved 
 ones. Speaking generically again, women 
 have no civic moral sense they have moral 
 ideals, beautiful, exquisitely formed, delicately 
 balanced. But moral sense comes only after 
 139
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 hard practice ; it is not hereditary ; it may not 
 he learned at school ; it comes only after 
 diligent practical work. Women and preach 
 ers often fail in temporal affairs for the same 
 reason : Their morals are beautiful, but 
 anaemic. They are athletes who have ex 
 hausted the literature of the subject, but lack 
 gymnastic exercise. 
 
 " However, there should be no cause for 
 discouragement. Woman was emancipated 
 only yesterday. She must not be expected 
 to live a miracle. She must fail and fail. 
 Her very shortcomings are signs of future 
 success. She is trying that is a great thing. 
 For what is our failure here but a triumph s 
 evidence for the fulness of the days ? " 
 
 140
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 WITH the reporter it was only the mat 
 ter of a Sunday story. If Congressman 
 Thomas Wharton had not been elected United 
 States Senator the day before, the story that 
 Sunday would have been a sanitary article 
 under the head " A Little Italy is a Danger 
 ous Thing." But with Senator-elect Wharton 
 it was a matter of some moment to have a city 
 reporter come down to one s home on the 
 eight o clock train in the morning and stay 
 until the six-thirty train in the evening, tak 
 ing an inventory of one s goods and chattels, 
 intellectual equipment, moral endowment, 
 and previous condition of servitude. In his ca 
 pacity of cataloguer the reporter made mental 
 note of the masterpieces of art in Wharton s 
 library the campaign picture of Blaine and 
 Logan, a dust-stained steel engraving repre 
 senting the Lincoln family, apparently glued 
 about a marble-topped centre-table ; also 
 portraits of Hereford royalty by Cecil Pal- 
 
 143
 
 mer, and of Berkshire royalty of unknown ar- 
 tisanship. During the morning Wharton 
 took the reporter over the wide, tame grass 
 fields and showed off the royal originals. 
 
 As the two men walked in the fields Whar- 
 ton explained that his father was a Pennsyl- 
 vauian and his mother pure-bred Donegal 
 Irish. While he was relating the details of 
 his early life, his struggles for an education 
 with the appurtenances of the log school- 
 house, the pine-knot and the blue Webster 
 Speller, the reporter was condensing the nar 
 rative into a paragraph in which the phrase 
 " the short and simple annals of the poor " 
 should find a place. 
 
 After the noonday dinner, and when the 
 reporter had secured photographs of Mrs. 
 Wharton and of the children the two mar 
 ried daughters in the littlo town of Baxter, 
 the daughter in the high-school, and the boy 
 who was running the farm also five like 
 nesses of Wharton, including an army da 
 guerreotype, the newly made senator was in 
 a talkative mood. He was sprawling, rather 
 than sitting, in a huge leather chair in front 
 of the fire ; his feet were wide apart. One 
 hand kept ruffing his iron-gray hair, the other 
 144
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 hand held a cigar. As he talked the reporter 
 wondered just how much of Wharton s double 
 chin and crescent-shaped vest the managing 
 editor would leave in the copy if the reporter 
 told the truth about them. Wharton was 
 saying : 
 
 "The trouble with the East is, they re get 
 ting flabby. They don t get enough hard 
 knocks. Take the Eastern fellows in Con 
 gress. Why, not one in ten of the younger 
 set ever went barefooted. They ve lived in 
 steam-heated flats and ridden around in 
 street-cars all their lives. They can t stick to 
 a fight. They re what you fellows call effete. 
 Look at the pickle that Harvard puts on a 
 boy. You can spot a boy from Harvard as 
 far as you can see him. He has a kind of 
 highty-tighty air, sniffs at his country, and 
 tolerates his universe. If I ever had a boy 
 come home with that Harvard pickle on him 
 I d put him into the chamber-work depart 
 ment of a livery stable till he got so he could 
 say his prayers and take off his hat to the 
 flag." 
 
 Wharton threw a leg over the low arm of 
 his chair, opened his half-shut eyes, grinned 
 at the reporter, and added : " Don t you put 
 
 145
 
 STEATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 that in the paper. There s a little bunch of 
 Harvard in the Senate, and I may need it in 
 my business." The reporter assented and 
 Wbarton cut in with : 
 
 " Yep, son, sugar catches more flies than 
 Tinegar." 
 
 " Do you want to talk Civil Service, Sena 
 tor ?" questioned the reporter, as he mentally 
 stored away Wharton s epigram to use in 
 some other part of the interview. 
 
 Wharton rose and paced the room twice, 
 with his cigar in his teeth and his hands deep 
 in his trousers pockets. 
 
 " I dunno anything wrong with this : 
 say that the thing that threatens this coun 
 try is political apathy. Citizens pay too 
 much attention to business and not enough 
 to politics and then ask how you re going 
 to get more interest in politics by taking all 
 the offices away from the people and putting 
 them in cold-storage. Get my idea?" 
 
 The reporter nodded. 
 
 " Well, if you think it s any good, trim it 
 up. Tell em it s all right to holler about a 
 public office being a private snap, but ask how 
 the registration is going to be kept up in the 
 ward if mansions in the skies are to be the 
 HG
 
 only reward for the fellows who drive the 
 hacks. Of course, don t use those words, but 
 you understand my point." 
 
 When the interview and the Sunday story 
 were printed they appeared under the head 
 " A Tribune of the People," and the story told 
 how Thomas Wharton had risen from an 
 humble farmer boy, step by step, office upon 
 office, from school-teacher to county superin 
 tendent, from that to State legislator, up 
 ward into the National Congress, where he 
 served six terms ; and how, by trusting in the 
 people, he had weathered every political 
 storm and had finally anchored in the United 
 States Senate. The reporter made a good 
 story. The managing editor said so, and 
 Wharton bought ten copies of the paper, an 
 unusually large number of copies to buy for 
 any story, if the papers are not ordered in 
 advance. But the story had its limitations. 
 There was much that it did not tell, and in 
 the nature of things, could not tell. For in 
 stance, to lay bare Wharton s ambition would 
 be interesting, of course, but perhaps libel 
 lous; for it was fearfully and wonderfully 
 made, that ambition and it was constantly 
 changing. Yet Wharton had worshipped it 
 147
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 for forty years, observing no variation in it. 
 When he came home from the Civil War and 
 taught country school, his ambition beckoned 
 him to be a statesman, to serve his country, 
 to thwart corruption in high places, and to 
 stand for the rights of the poor and the op 
 pressed. He made a good record in the State 
 legislature, and when the best element in his 
 party sent him to Congress, in his speech at 
 the ratification meeting he shed tears of joy 
 ful gratitude that his opportunity had come 
 to him. He chose to forget certain irregulari 
 ties of the ballot in a doubtful county, for he 
 had an earnest faith that the end justified 
 the means. The insincerity, the corruption, 
 the pulling and hauling for place and power 
 which he saw during his first term in Con 
 gress, shocked him. But in his second term 
 he began to count that sort of thing as a part of 
 the game. During his third term he accepted 
 deals and jobs and sly, legalized official steals 
 as matters of fact and of course. Later ho 
 took Indian supply contracts himself. The 
 women lobbyists, who provoked Wharton s 
 disgust as a young Congressman, ceased to 
 interest him at all in his fifth term. The jus 
 tification of his means by faith, being needed 
 148
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 less and less frequently to salve his con 
 science, was no longer an act of volition with 
 Whartoii. He lived in hotels at Washington, 
 while his family lived at home on the farm in 
 the outskirts of Baxter. Wharton grew mel 
 low and cynical in his cast of thought, yet 
 there were times when he recalled his youth 
 ful visions and hoped against hope that the 
 day would come when he might realize them. 
 In the meantime he controlled his district 
 machine, and his party s national organiza 
 tion oiled the machine well with fat fried from 
 concerns east of the Alleghanies which were 
 affected by Wharton s attitude upon impor 
 tant congressional committees. 
 
 For Wharton was a power in the House. 
 He was known as an efficient man, which be 
 ing translated means that he was a proficient 
 log-roller, and that he had reduced mutual 
 back-scratching to a fine art. His strong 
 hold as a congressman was in pensions. He 
 framed a pension law which made his name 
 hated in the East, but made it sacred at the 
 camp-fires and bean- dinners in the West, 
 where the soldiers took their free homesteads 
 after Appomattox. 
 
 In his last congressional fight he spent 
 149
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 $2,300 to buy some refractory delegations in 
 the nominating convention, and the end was 
 nebulous and hazy while the means were 
 palpable to an important degree. So pal 
 pable, indeed, that when Tom Wharton de 
 feated Senator Gardner and the Wharton ma 
 chine won, the element in his party that first 
 sent Wharton to Congress opposed him most 
 bitterly in the senatorial contest. 
 
 When Senator- elect Wharton went back to 
 Washington, it was not into a strange coun 
 try. He had measured swords with many of 
 the senators when he and they had been mem 
 bers of the lower house of Congress together. 
 He had been on conference committees at the 
 end of two sessions of Congress, and, being a 
 member of the steering committee of his par 
 ty s caucus, knew the kind of timber of which 
 every senator was made. On the other hand, 
 Wharton knew that the Senate knew Tom 
 Wharton. So, when he was cartooned by 
 Coffin, in the Washington Post, as an Agra 
 rian Hercules, in a breech-clout and a straw 
 hat, cleaning out the Augean stables of sena 
 torial flub-dub, Wharton s cup of satisfaction 
 brimmed. 
 
 When Wharton took the oath of office he 
 150
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 walked down the middle aisle of the Senate 
 Chamber in a gray sack coat and a lay-down 
 collar, with one hand in his trousers pocket. 
 His only sign of nervousness was manifested 
 when he bit at his bristly, close-cropped mus 
 tache as the informal ceremony proceeded. 
 He lounged hulkily back to his seat with his 
 thumbs in his vest holes, sucking his teeth 
 and holding his head at an angle which seemed 
 to him to proclaim his composure. 
 
 A year later Wharton was walking alone 
 up and down the red-carpeted lobby of the 
 Senate, his eyes on the floor, his hands clasped 
 behind him, his cigar trailing a white wraith 
 over his shoulder. Senator Felt, from a New 
 England State, nudged a companion and 
 said : 
 
 " See Tom Wharton over there ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, he thinks he s thinking." 
 
 That remark came to Wharton s ears and 
 opened a most cordial and interesting enmity, 
 an enmity bred of physical, mental, moral, 
 and political antipathies, so marked that de 
 scriptive writers doing the Senate always 
 linked the two men, Wharton and Felt, in 
 beautifully balanced sentences, which made 
 151
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 "Wharton swear in English, Spanish, and Mis 
 souri Valley. 
 
 Wharton still foraged in pensions. He 
 kept four clerks, besides his private secretary, 
 busy answering letters from pensioners, or 
 from those who would, could, should, or might 
 be pensioners. He attended camp-fires and 
 contributed money to soldiers societies with 
 out stint. Before he had been in the Senate 
 a year Wharton s old army friends began to 
 appear as messengers and guards and guides, 
 until the Senate pay-roll became almost a 
 copy of Tom Wharton s company roster. He 
 would help other senators with bills, general 
 bills, or local bills, and in return for his ser 
 vices required that his cohorts be cared for. 
 
 Early in his first senatorial term he edged 
 into the Committee of the District of Colum 
 bia and traded everything for good standing 
 there. He retained certain ideals of honesty. 
 He was, as he said, as honest as the times 
 would permit ; and his standard of political 
 honor in others only drew the line at taking 
 money from both sides of an issue. Person 
 ally Wharton made it a point never to take 
 money at all, but he made propitious invest 
 ments in real estate, in Massachusetts Avenue 
 153
 
 THE MERCY OP DEATH 
 
 Extended, and in street railway stock. He 
 reasoned, however, that his constituents were 
 none the worse off for his foresight, and be 
 cause no one accused him of taking bribes his 
 conscience did not prick. During his first 
 term in the Senate, Wharton spoke vehe 
 mently and voted for all laws which expand 
 ed the currency and curtailed what he called 
 " the money power." The day after one of 
 his denunciations of the railroads he returned 
 all his passes, and a friend from Baxter who 
 was in Whartou s committee-room when the 
 senator was dictating letters to the railroads, 
 told at home that Tom said he was rich enough 
 to afford the luxury of being honest ; and the 
 remark passed into the proverbial literature 
 of the State. 
 
 Shortly after this proverb became public 
 property, Senator Wharton, who, in his con 
 gressional days, had been tempted by the 
 devil in various disguises, began to hunt up 
 the devil and to employ a broker. Now it is 
 a long jump from taking a little $5,000 nibble 
 at an Indian supply contract or munching a 
 $10,000 bit of public land grazing lease, when 
 these things come one s way, to grabbing for 
 plums right and left and standing at the 
 153
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 pantry door demanding that nothing shall go 
 to the table until it is divided. The devil 
 helped Wharton to make the jump. After 
 he took the jump Wharton concerned him 
 self with the interests of Wharton first, and 
 considered his constituents afterward. The 
 creeping moral paralysis, which had been 
 atrophying his nature for a dozen years, be 
 gan to manifest itself in various ways. When 
 a circuit judge in Wharton s neighborhood, 
 ambitious for promotion, appointed a receiver 
 for a railroad in Wharton s State, Wharton 
 managed to own profit-bearing stock in the 
 concerns which furnished the receiver with 
 supplies. When a railroad desired an exten 
 sion of time for earning its land grant, Whar 
 ton s broker and the law department of the 
 railroad had to discuss a great many things 
 which came under the head of " that matter." 
 It happened sometimes that Wharton s broker 
 bought sugar felicitously, and sold silver with 
 unusual luck. And the devil, whom Wharton 
 had found in a mask, used to pull it aside fre 
 quently and wink gayly at the Senator, who 
 would pat his rotund vest and smile, seeming 
 ly to himself but really at the Old Boy, and 
 say to his private secretary, " Well, Bob, we 
 
 154
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 seem to be able to keep the wolf from scratch 
 ing all the varnish off the front door! Eh? " 
 For Wharton had become a financier, and 
 was known in New York banking circles as 
 " the business man of the Senate." His in 
 troduction to the New Yorkers was brilliant, 
 and admitted him to the inner circle of 
 brigands at once. Whartou and a group of 
 New York bankers got hold of a controlling 
 interest in a Western railroad, the H. & 2 O s, 
 when the stock was selling at 70. The H. & 
 2 O s ran, as Wharton succinctly put it, " from 
 hell to breakfast, over two streaks of rust, 
 through a four- acre mortgage." Senator Felt 
 put $50,000 of his wife s money into the 
 scheme on the advice of his bankers. Whar 
 ton organized a $100,000 pool among the 
 stockholders to keep the stock of the road at 
 par, the pool agreeing to buy up all the stock 
 on the market offered below par. Felt bor 
 rowed money of the pool to buy up several 
 little blocks of stock that came floating his 
 way, slightly below par. But Wharton sold 
 to the pool through his broker at nearly par 
 all of the stock which he had bought at 70. 
 Then he faced Felt and the New Yorkers 
 down with uproarious laughter, and asked 
 155
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 them if they saw any hayseed in his hair. 
 He thought the joke was too good to keep 
 and told it after the eighth glass of raw 
 whiskey at the senatorial poker parties which 
 Senator Felt always avoided. Men of Whar- 
 ton s stripe gazed at him with fond admira 
 tion, and he was revered as Captain Kidd was 
 in his time for less profitable and more daring 
 enterprises. 
 
 Nature began to brand Tom Wharton in the 
 fifth year of his first senatorial term. Little 
 hair-like wrinkles spread over his face, radi 
 ating from his eyes and mouth. His brow 
 cracked in a hundred places. Under his eyes 
 deep, lateral, fatty wrinkles gathered and in 
 solence leered from behind the bloated lids. 
 The skin of his neck began to hang loose. 
 Nature was marking her danger-signals on his 
 face to tell the world that Tom "Wharton s 
 soul was rotting out. He took heed of where 
 withal he should be clothed, and his raiment, 
 which once had been of coarse, gray Scotch 
 cheviot, became broadcloth. He swathed 
 himself in fancy vests, and the poker set said 
 that the Thompson woman had persuaded 
 him to jet his high silk hat. For the Thomp 
 son woman was noted for her clothes, and 
 156
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 when she walked down an aisle in the Pension 
 Office, treading firmly on her heels and hiking 
 her skirt up in the back, one could hear her 
 silk petticoats rustle all over the room, and 
 the girls who held their jobs on their merits 
 pretended not to notice her. But whether or 
 not the Thompson woman was the inspiration 
 of Wharton s silk hat, he wore it only in the 
 East. When he went home that year he 
 donned some familiar togs and went under 
 the old black felt that was well known to the 
 people of his State. 
 
 During his first senatorial term Wharton 
 mixed in a score of local fights in his State 
 and built a State machine of iron. County 
 officers were his assistant foremen in the 
 political organization that he conducted as 
 one would conduct a great factory, wherein 
 no detail was too trivial for the owner s per 
 sonal attention. When he helped his friends 
 with money in a political transaction Senator 
 Wharton took their notes, thus mixing busi 
 ness with politics and keeping his allies true 
 Congressman Wharton had never done this. 
 When the machine sent him back to Wash 
 ington without opposition to serve a second 
 senatorial term, Tom Wharton was a power of 
 157
 
 the first class. Although the men in the 
 Senate whom he called the Good, the True, 
 and the Beautiful might ignore him socially, 
 when these men needed help for a local bill 
 they had to consult Senator "Wharton. For 
 his political savings bank, where record is 
 kept of services to political associates, was 
 full to overflowing. He was wary and drew on 
 his account but sparingly. And the Thomp 
 son woman kept her own hours in the Pension 
 Oilice, and one day, in a sportive moment, she 
 told the assistant commissioner, under whom 
 she was supposed to work, that if she could 
 ever remember his name she would have him 
 dismissed. Her speech was unwise, for she 
 forgot if she ever knew that when a man, 
 even so gallant a man as Senator Wharton, 
 passes his fortieth year his moral lapses are 
 not for the woman, but for a woman, and he 
 is easily irritated. 
 
 Tom Wharton s business interests grew. 
 Whatever he touched he gilded. He worked 
 far into the night, and reached the point 
 where it took four glasses of whiskey to 
 steam up his boilers for work in the morning. 
 He ate breakfast dictating letters across his 
 egg, and had little time for speech-making. 
 158
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 But his secretary sent out three or four extracts 
 from the Congressional Record every year, in 
 which were Wharton s speeches, demanding 
 a tariff on hides and butter, or sounding the 
 alarm against the trusts. Occasionally he 
 fanned one of these out of the thin air of the 
 lonesome Senate chamber, but usually asked 
 leave to print and went about his business. 
 His fortune crept past one million, jumped 
 past two, and a chalky pallor stole into his 
 face. 
 
 Still, for all his success, Tom Wharton 
 recognized his limitations. He cherished a 
 venomous envy for Senator Felt, who, Whar 
 ton fancied, knew the difference between 
 brands of champagne and understood what 
 Wharton called the " time-table of a wine- 
 list " at dinner. So Wharton boasted of the 
 superiority of whiskey and reviled those who 
 did not appreciate the intricate points of its 
 quality. 
 
 " Bob," said Wharton to his private secre 
 tary one day, when the Senate galleries were 
 filled to hear Felt discourse upon a minor 
 clause in the tariff bill then under considera 
 tion, "what a poser that fellow is always be 
 fore the public, always on dress parade. I d 
 159
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 strangle with surprise if I d ever see that 
 long-tailed coat of his unbuttoned. Do you 
 suppose he sleeps in it ? Can you imagine 
 him in his night-shirt ? " 
 
 The secretary laughed, and Wharton, who 
 was looking over the stenographer s work be 
 fore signing his letters, went on : 
 
 " What I don t see is how he holds his job. 
 He can t do anything. I ll bet he don t know 
 the fourth assistant postmaster-general from 
 Adam s off ox. He hasn t got a bill through 
 except some local bills, since he came. That 
 sophomore twaddle he s reciting this after 
 noon will have about as much to do with the 
 passage of the tariff bill as a painted toot 
 from one of the painted angels over there in 
 that gingerbread library building that he 
 struts around so much about. And yet a lot 
 of old hens cluck and scratch worms for the 
 Great Senator Felt whenever he stretches his 
 neck and hollers." 
 
 To which Senator Felt made fair return in 
 kind. To a crony in a Boston club Senator 
 Felt said : " He is a thrifty fellow, that 
 Wharton. He has saved from his salary of 
 $5,000 a year a fortune reaching into the 
 millions." The two men laughed. The mask 
 100
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 of Felt s face did not wrinkle or quiver as he 
 added : " He is a subject for the biologist, 
 for he retains the strength of a mastodon, re 
 vives the manners of a cave man, and pre 
 serves the morals of a hyena." 
 
 Ostensibly Felt and Wharton were friends. 
 Yet their mutual politeness was inspired by the 
 jealousy that breeds punctiliousness in men 
 more surely than it is bred by friendship or 
 esteem. The fires of jealousy between Whar 
 ton and Felt could never be quenched, for 
 Felt had youth and culture, and Wharton had 
 power and courage. 
 
 One year well along in the nineties there 
 arose in Wharton s State a political move 
 ment which puzzled him. The first shock of 
 the movement made the little bolts and screws 
 and cogs of the Wharton machine quiver, 
 and the second shock, coming as it did in a 
 presidential year, snapped a hundred levers. 
 The defeated candidates filled Wharton s 
 mail with letters asking for repairs and dam 
 ages and for expert opinion. The constant 
 habit of considering the affairs of the wracked 
 machine gave to Wharton s mind after six 
 months a color of anxiety. In meditative 
 moments this anxiety sometimes deepened 
 161
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 into terror. For because Tom Wharton s 
 heart had no solace save in the use of power, 
 in the soul of him Tom Wharton was an ab 
 ject coward. He had hypnotized himself 
 into the belief that his luck was infallible ; 
 but the low burring, the shrill rasping, and 
 the irregular clicking of the machine got 
 upon his nerves and filled him with alarm. 
 He hammered away ineffectually at the money 
 power. He wrenched and jacked unavail- 
 ingly at the trusts. Then Senator Wharton 
 got his trip-hammer and started to pound the 
 people into plumb by the promise of a ser 
 vice pension law. The promise, backed by 
 Wharton s power to fulfil it, brought conster 
 nation to the East, where most of the nation s 
 taxes to pay the pensions would be gathered, 
 and where but a small portion of the pen 
 sions would be distributed. Wharton saw this 
 Eastern consternation and chuckled, for he 
 believed that it would be matched by rejoic 
 ing in the West. In congratulating himself 
 upon the probable success of his pension 
 plans Wharton found another pleasure and 
 perhaps a keener one. All New England 
 turned toward Senator Felt as its hope in the 
 struggle against the Whartou bill. If Felt 
 162
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 failed to thwart Wharton, the East and his 
 State and his party would have none of him. 
 So Tom Wharton changed his tobacco quid 
 from one jaw to the other and from the worm- 
 eaten caverns of his soul exhaled a curse upon 
 Felt. 
 
 The god of business is an exacting god, and 
 he puts all sorts of warning signs at the mile- 
 posts of the years in men s lives. At the 
 sixtieth mile-post there is a danger sign which 
 warns men against new enterprises. The 
 penalties for disregarding this sign are severe. 
 But sinful pride having tilted Wharton s nose 
 he could not see the warning on his third - 
 score mile-post. So he began to dabble in 
 wheat. Of course he scalded his fingers. A 
 Chicago packer tempted him, and the two 
 old fellows went on the market as bears. 
 Wharton s name was not known in the deal ; 
 but, little by little, while wheat kept going 
 up, his available collateral went into his 
 broker s hands and was dumped upon the New 
 York market. The Chicago packer could have 
 commanded securities representing twenty 
 million dollars in a few hours. But Whar 
 ton s poor little two millions began to shrink 
 when he turned it into bankable paper, and 
 163
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 evaporated before bis eyes. One day late in 
 May a small financial tornado struck Wall 
 Street. It began in B. R. T. and spread to 
 every industrial stock on the market. Whar- 
 ton s collateral at that time had been reduced 
 to its lowest terms, and he had nothing but 
 the industrial stocks to offer. When the day 
 closed wheat had gone skyward, and not a 
 banking concern in Wall Street, New Street, 
 Exchange Place, or lower Broadway would ac 
 cept as collateral a single stock that Wharton 
 had put in his broker s hands. The New 
 York broker could not reach Wharton during 
 the mad hour when industrial stocks were 
 being pounded down. The broker had to pro 
 tect himself. Wharton s stocks were thrown 
 under the hammer. They did not realize 
 enough to pay the margins on his wheat or 
 ders. His note went to protest, and when the 
 day closed Tom Wharton s fortune was gone. 
 The latter years of Wharton s life had been 
 spent out of partnerships and away from close 
 companions. His very greed had isolated 
 him, and so when misfortune befell him he 
 could turn to no friendly hand for help. His 
 family had departed from him in all but the 
 outer semblance, and he was absolutely alone 
 1G4
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 in his calamity. When he had learned the 
 worst that the broker had to tell, Wharton 
 locked himself in his private room with a flask 
 of whiskey, and when he came out his pallid 
 face was the only sign of his perturbation. 
 For his daring was not lessened; he never 
 played " old maid " or " penny ante," and he 
 loved the game best when the forfeit was 
 high. He believed that wheat had reached 
 its summit, and he had figured it out that 
 with $75,000 to operate upon he could regain 
 everything. But he decided that he must 
 have that amount. He rejected a dozen plans 
 to get it, and only one was left. It was a 
 desperate plan, but Wharton did not hesitate 
 to follow it. He left that night on the mid 
 night train for the West. Ike Russell, the 
 treasurer of Wharton s State, was made of 
 clay with Wharton s own hand. When Whar 
 ton arrived at his State capital there was an 
 ugly three minutes in the State treasurer s 
 office and then it was over. Russell went out 
 of the room, and Wharton went into the vault 
 and filled his little valise with school bonds. 
 Wharton had no trouble in floating them. 
 He deposited them with a Washington bank 
 where he had done all his business for twenty 
 1G5
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 years. The money he realized went into the 
 wheat pit in New York, and he glorified Tom 
 Wharton and prepared to enjoy him forever. 
 For it is the chief end of some self-made men 
 to confuse their deities. 
 
 Ten days later wheat shot into the nineties, 
 turning nimble hand-springs over the frac 
 tional points. And Senator Thomas Wharton 
 went to the safety-deposit box for even a bone 
 to feed the dogs of the pit which were gnaw 
 ing his margins. When he got there the cup 
 board was bare, and so the poor dogs had to 
 lick their chops over the memory of the feasts 
 Wharton had thrown to them. Wharton did 
 not expect to find anything in his box when 
 he went, and yet, until he had looked over all 
 his plunder there and found not one scrap of 
 paper negotiable for a dollar, he did not real 
 ize that the end had come absolutely. 
 
 Wharton fumbled for nearly a minute, tak 
 ing the key from the box. The close air of 
 the room seemed to stifle him, and he hurried 
 almost staggered into the fresh air, which 
 he breathed deeply. His tremor came from 
 mental causes partly induced by the mad 
 dening grip of the taut tether of his fate, but 
 his nerves were rioting because they knew no 
 106
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 master save whiskey. As Wharton walked 
 back to the Skoreham, a distance of ten blocks, 
 lie lighted and threw away four cigars. And 
 cigar-ashes fell on the immaculate vest. He 
 raged because he could not see his way, but 
 his mind s eyes were blinded by dust from the 
 apples of Sodom. His isolation among his 
 fellows smote him when he saw that he was 
 afraid to advise with his banker and ashamed 
 to talk with his lawyer. Way back deeply in 
 his submerged consciousness was the concept 
 of the penitentiary, conceived hardly as a pos 
 sibility much less a probability ; yet the thing 
 stuck there like a thorn in the flesh. After 
 pacing the diagonal lines of his room in the 
 hotel for half an hour, Wharton went to the 
 telephone and asked the local banker who 
 held the stolen bonds to hold them off the 
 market for twenty-four hours. The request 
 was granted, for Wharton had done many hun 
 dred thousand dollars worth of business at 
 the bank. With a twenty-four hours reprieve 
 Wharton thought he could find some ford that 
 would lead him back over the fatal Rubicon 
 he had crossed. He decided to direct all his 
 legislative force for a few hours away from the 
 Wharton pension bill and into another chan- 
 167
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Bel. The dead wall of a prison seemed to bar 
 his path ; but the jaws that hung loose while 
 he walked from the safety deposit vault to his 
 hotel were set when he went forth to burrow 
 under his barrier. 
 
 Now there were in Washington two electric 
 light and power companies contesting for 
 business one, old and established, with wires 
 strung all over the city ; the other a suburban 
 concern, with a city franchise, but without 
 wires in the city. For several months an in 
 nocent-looking bill, which provided that all 
 electric-light wires be buried twenty inches 
 under ground, had rested in a pigeon-hole 
 of Wharton s desk in the committee-room 
 of the District of Columbia. To make this 
 bill a law would be in effect to put the new 
 electric company on an equal footing with the 
 old company. Wharton himself had quietly 
 urged the organization of the new company. 
 He had pushed the bill through the lower 
 house of Congress, and shortly thereafter he 
 found $150,000 worth of the new company s 
 stock in his safety-deposit box. When the 
 Wharton pension bill should become a law it 
 had been Wharton s purpose to push the un 
 derground electric-wire bill through the Sen- 
 168
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 ate and unload the stock lie owned for a fort 
 une. Two hours after Wharton left his hotel 
 the House underground-wire bill had been 
 recommended for passage by the Senate com 
 mittee of the District of Columbia, and had 
 been advanced on the calendar for considera 
 tion on the following day. For the old com 
 pany was rich, and Wharton believed that it 
 would not see five years dividends eaten up by 
 trench-diggers without a struggle. He did not 
 go to his hotel that night, and Mrs. Wharton 
 went to sleep with a familiar suspicion by her 
 side that for once in its long, hateful life was 
 false. For Wharton, greedy, desperate, bold, 
 and cunning, was prowling about the town in 
 a carriage, routing men out of bed at unseemly 
 hours, seeking whom he might devour. When 
 he lay down at three o clock on his office 
 lounge the war of the two electric- lighting 
 companies was waging and he was prepared 
 to loot. With his booty he was going to re 
 deem the stolen school bonds. He was so sure 
 of winning his game that he spent the closing 
 minutes of consciousness before sleep in ma 
 levolent anticipation of the hour when he 
 would annihilate Senator Felt by passing the 
 pension bill over his opposition. 
 169
 
 STKATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 He woke from the horror of a nightmare 
 with the horror of reality upon him. And 
 the thought of the reality made his hand 
 tremble as he put the first four glasses of his 
 morning s whiskey to his lips. Until he had 
 consumed nearly a pint of liquor he could 
 not muster courage to review the details of 
 the day s campaign. It was Wharton s in 
 tention to galvanize his shares in the new 
 company, so that he could sell his stock im 
 mediately, or but the old company had 
 stuck at $50,000 the night before and the 
 stolen school bonds were in pawn for $75,- 
 000, to be redeemed that day. So it was that 
 or nothing. When the steam of the morn 
 ing s whiskey had sent his drivers to pound 
 ing, Wharton took a car for the Capitol. 
 "When he left the car his face was haggard 
 and he walked across the asphalt with a 
 physical curse of hatred for mankind in every 
 rap of his heavy foot. He did not veer a 
 fraction of an inch from a straight line as he 
 walked, and he snubbed the man brutally who 
 ran the elevator. In an upper corridor Whar 
 ton met Curt, the agent for the old electric 
 company Curt, whose bedroom Wharton 
 had left at three that morning. Curt had 
 170
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 promised to confer with someone whom he 
 called " his people " to see if they would meet 
 Wharton s $75,000 ultimatum. 
 
 "Well," asked Curt festively of Wharton as 
 the two men walked down the corridor, " have 
 you concluded to be decent ? " 
 
 Wharton tried to see into the recesses of 
 the lobbyist s mind as he replied, gruffly : 
 "I m right where I was. It s that or noth 
 ing. I m going to make a speech to-day that 
 will fix you fellows so you ll wish I d sunk 
 your wires six miles in - - instead of twenty 
 inches under the street level. Come up and 
 hear it," he snapped over his shoulder. 
 
 " All right, Senator," laughed Curt, " blaze 
 away. Tell Bob Dunning to come up to the 
 gallery and we ll enjoy it together." 
 
 Wharton turned into his committee-room. 
 Dunning, the private secretary, was there. He 
 greeted Whartou with a look that matched all 
 of the senator s anxiety. Wharton nodded 
 and said : " You re to go up in the gallery 
 with Curt. I think he s going to come to 
 time. But I m going on with my speech un 
 less he does I ll show em, G D em. 
 It s the first thing up this morning." 
 
 Wharton swung into the Senate chamber 
 171
 
 like a bull into the pit. He feared treachery 
 in his closest allies. He scowled at his fel 
 lows from under heavy eyelids and peered 
 furtively around for some knowledge of his 
 financial condition to show upon their faces. 
 Then he brushed away the pages that 
 swarmed around him with other people s busi 
 ness, and his pen scratched incessantly and 
 angrily until he rose to make his speech. 
 Foreboding and a sense of danger mingled in 
 him until he sickened, as the look down the 
 sheer drop of the ladder makes a man s knees 
 tremble before he starts down. Wharton 
 mumbled through his preliminary speech. 
 Then he saw his private secretary sitting by 
 Curt shake a dubious head, and with a rush 
 of courage Wharton fell to his subject. And 
 soon the old electric company was withering 
 in the hot wind of his oratory. He kept his 
 eyes on Curt and Dunning in the gallery. 
 Wharton was about to finish his climax when 
 he saw, as a drowning man sees a rope, Curt 
 lean over to Dunning and Dunning smile and 
 nod an affirmative head to Wharton. His 
 hand fell to his side. His shoulders col 
 lapsed and he said, before he dropped to 
 his seat : 
 
 172
 
 " Gentlemen, I see I ve trespassed too 
 long upon your time already to-day ; but 
 there are a few more remarks I wish to sub 
 mit on this subject at another time, so I ask 
 that this bill take its former place on the 
 calendar." 
 
 He heaved a deep sigh, as one returning to 
 consciousness. He caught Senator Felt s 
 eyes retui ning from the pair in the gallery, 
 and Wharton s eyes met the twinkle in Felt s 
 with a glare that forced the twinkle into a 
 laugh. 
 
 When Wharton met his private secretary 
 in the committee-room, to Wharton s implied 
 question the secretary nodded and said: "I 
 gave him the key ; he hasn t brought it back 
 
 yet." 
 
 The senator s safety-deposit box had been 
 the trysting-place for many of his affairs be 
 fore. On occasion he had found there stocks 
 and bonds and all sorts of booty. Half an 
 hour later a messenger boy brought Dunning 
 a package. It contained the key to the sen 
 ator s safety-deposit box. Wharton took the 
 key and hurried away. It seemed to him that 
 if he could but get the bonds again he would 
 never put them down until he replaced them 
 173
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 in the State treasurer s vault. Sheer fear 
 came upon him and quickened his pace al 
 most to a trot. But when he walked out of 
 the bank with the valise containing the stolen 
 bonds in his hands he was bearing down upon 
 his heels and not upon his toes, and planning 
 to take the midnight train for the West. He 
 was a-tremble and felt a revulsion for the rou 
 tine of the day. His lips were dry, his feet 
 were heavy, and he loathed the sight of his 
 associates. It was nearly three o clock when 
 he hailed a green car and rode for ten minutes 
 with eyes half shut, planning a score of things. 
 He viewed the wreck of his fortune with some 
 thing like composure. He believed that with 
 four years more in the Senate he could find 
 opportunities to rebuild most of the crumbled 
 structure, and he pinned a complacent faith 
 to his service pension bill to add at least one 
 more term to his service. In ten years Torn 
 AVharton had blind faith in his power to do 
 anything he pleased in that time. Indeed, he 
 felt himself so fully restored to his day-dreams 
 that he took from his pocket-book a well-worn 
 clipping from the Davenport, Iowa, Democrat 
 and Gazette, and read, for the hundredth time 
 in the two years that he had carried it, the 
 174
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 editorial which announced Senator Wharton, 
 the Tribune of the People, as a presidential 
 possibility in 1900. He knew the piece by 
 heart and it was manna to his ravening soul 
 in times of trouble. The conductor stopped 
 the car with a "Here you are, Senator." 
 Wharton walked to a flat-house near by and 
 entered with a latch-key. No one greeted 
 him, and he lay down on a couch in the par 
 lor with his hand-satchel for a pillow. Whar 
 ton slept like a log. At six o clock a servant, 
 bringing in the last edition of the Star, awak 
 ened him. Glancing over the heads on the 
 news page this item attracted him : 
 
 COMPANIES COMBINE. 
 
 Two ELECTRIC LIGHT COMPANIES CONSOLI 
 DATED THIS MORNING. 
 
 NEW COMPANY SWALLOWED BY OLD. 
 
 Capitalization over $1,000,000 and Politics 
 Caused the Union. 
 
 AN INVESTIGATION LIKELY. 
 
 Wharton s vision skipped nervousty down 
 the column. He saw that the consolidation 
 had been accomplished before the hour of his 
 175
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 speech. Then his eyes stopped roaming as 
 he read these words under a sub-head : 
 
 HINT AT A HOLD-UP. 
 
 "To a reporter for the Star, President 
 Williams gave out the following statement, 
 which he had dictated to his stenographer 
 and revised before letting it pass out of his 
 hands : There is room for but one electric 
 company here. For some time the matter of 
 consolidation has been talked of. During 
 the last twenty-four hours, however, it has 
 become imperative. The situation this morn 
 ing is this : either to unite and fight the ban 
 dits who had planned to rifle our treasury, or 
 being separate to stand and deliver to every 
 brigand with a legislative club who chooses 
 to come out on a dark night. The books of 
 the old company contain some interesting en 
 tries, and I believe that no confidence is vio 
 lated by the assertion that the wires will not 
 be laid underground. 
 
 When Wharton finished the paragraph his 
 mouth was open and his eyes distended. A 
 pulse in his head was beating madly, and he 
 breathed like a stunned ox. He saw his face 
 in the mirror. It was purple and it seemed 
 173
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 bloated. A terror seized him. He tried to 
 rise. He summoned control of his nerves, 
 and, holding to his chair-arm, rose and poured 
 a glass of water from a sweating silver pitcher 
 in the room. When the Thompson woman 
 came in five minutes later Wharton s wrinkle- 
 scratched face was ashen gray and his voice 
 shook. His hat was on and he was about to 
 go. He knew that Avhat he did to hush the 
 scandal must be done quickly, and that with 
 all the work before him for the coming five 
 hours he could not be handicapped with the 
 bonds. He pointed to the valise and said to 
 the woman, huskily : " I ll leave that here. 
 Take it to your room and keep it locked up. 
 It s got some valuable papers in it. Don t let 
 anyone touch it." 
 
 He started away and answered her protest 
 ing gesture with: "Yes, I got to." She no 
 ticed that he tottered a little at first, but 
 seemed to walk steadily when he reached the 
 sidewalk, and boarded the car before it had 
 fully stopped. 
 
 By half-past eight that night Senator Whar- 
 ton had done several important things, to 
 wit : He had made an engagement by tele 
 phone with Williams, the president of the 
 177
 
 STEATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 new Consolidated Electric Company ; sent a 
 messenger-boy to his wife telling her not to 
 expect to see him that night ; devoured a thick 
 and greasy porterhouse steak garnished with 
 an enormous quantity of Saratoga chips ; and 
 consumed a pint of whiskey. As the clock 
 was marking the half-hour the bartender at 
 Chamberlain s was mixing for "Wharton his 
 second absinthe cocktail, and the liquor had 
 put the senator into fine form and high spirits. 
 It was a beautiful June night when he got 
 into a landau and directed the driver to a 
 house in Chevy Chase. Wharton lolled in 
 the seat with his two arms sprawled over the 
 cushion, his hat tilted back and the cigar in 
 his mouth angling upward reflectively. He 
 intended to play his favorite game, and by 
 the force of arrogant insistence and domineer 
 ing threats of utter destruction he expected to 
 bring the president of the Consolidated Com 
 pany to terms. "Wharton s terms were these : 
 First, the interview in the Star must be de 
 nied ; second, the Wharton shares in the Sub 
 urban Company must be recognized in the 
 consolidation ; third, as a reparation for dam 
 ages done by the Star s interview Whartou 
 must be given at least a temporary place in 
 178
 
 the Consolidated Company s directorate. It 
 was an old game with Wharton, and he had 
 learned long since that the higher the stakes 
 the more likelihood he had of winning. He 
 jabbed the electric button in the door of 
 Williams s house with a stiff, fat forefinger, 
 and tried to put some of his boiling rage 
 into this greeting. A servant explained that 
 Mr. Williams was busy, and took Wharton 
 into a reception-parlor. Wharton fancied, as 
 he sat waiting on the edge of a chair, that he 
 could hear men laughing in some distant 
 room of the house. The iron rattle of a voice 
 that sounded like Felt s invaded the recesses 
 of Wharton s consciousness and hurt him like 
 a sword twisting in his vitals. Five minutes, 
 ten minutes passed ; twenty minutes dragged 
 by, and he began pacing the floor like a caged 
 jackal. The room was close, and as Whar 
 ton s rage mounted his collar wilted. He 
 turned to leave the house in a fury. He saw 
 the servant and sent up a second card to 
 Williams. The servant brought back word 
 that Mr. Williams would be at leisure in fif 
 teen minutes. 
 
 Wharton entered Williams s smoking-room 
 with a burst of profanity. Williams, who was 
 179
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 alone in the room writing a letter, did not 
 look up, but said : 
 
 " Be careful, sir, there are women in the 
 house." 
 
 In the minute that followed Wharton exe 
 cuted a sort of war-dance before his host and 
 chanted a bill of wrongs and a defy. He 
 ended by thumping the writing-table and 
 glaring at Williams. 
 
 " Won t you sit down ? " asked Williams as 
 he folded his letter and addressed the en 
 velope. Wharton dropped into a chair and 
 Williams continued : " I fancied you d be out 
 to-night, Senator, even before you telephoned. 
 I broke a social engagement this afternoon 
 that I might be with you to-night." 
 
 "I m sorry I spoiled any of your infernal 
 drop-the-handkerchief orgies," retorted Whar 
 ton, unbuttoning his vest and changing his 
 position in the leather chair. Williams was 
 a small, gray-haired man, with a sallow skin 
 at least three sizes too large for his face. His 
 beady, black eyes glittered as he went on, 
 ignoring Wharton s demands : " We thought 
 you were good for that $75,000, when we ar 
 ranged the matter this morning. You proba 
 bly value your reputation a little higher than 
 180
 
 THE MEECY OF DEATH 
 
 $75,000, and we knew it would be safe to let 
 you have the money temporarily without se 
 curity. We also desired to have a public 
 record of your perfidy, and in your speech 
 to-day you furnished it. But we are arrang 
 ing our books now, and we need that money 
 to make the cash balance." 
 
 Wharton started to speak, but Williams s 
 soft velvety voice went on : "I beg pardon 
 but as I was about to say, what I want to 
 night is to know whether you will give us a 
 check, or" he smiled pleasantly and added : 
 " will you send us the key to your safety-de 
 posit box ?" 
 
 Wharton s face blanched a little. His voice 
 did not rise to the oratorical pitch of his 
 opening challenge as he replied : 
 
 " Mr. Williams, this is what I call a dishon 
 orable trick. I have always considered you a 
 gentleman before now." Williams did not 
 reply. "Yes, sir," continued Wharton; "I 
 always thought you was a man of honor, but 
 I find you re a dirty, contemptible little pup, 
 and I ll see you in hell before I ll give you 
 any $75,000." 
 
 Williams looked up quickly and caught 
 Wharton s eye, which dropped. "Is that 
 181
 
 STEATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 final ?" snapped Williams like the click of a 
 trigger. Wharton gazed at Williams for a mo 
 ment before replying. Wharton took off his 
 coat and vest, with a mumbled apology about 
 the heat. He paced the floor, occasionally run 
 ning his fingers through his hair. A slump of 
 all his powers was upon him. He answered : 
 
 " I just don t see how I can. I invested 
 every dollar I had to-day in a little scheme, 
 and I m in the red at the bank clear up to the 
 limit now." 
 
 " Give me your note then, sir," returned 
 Williams. Wharton saw that he must gain 
 time and said: "Lookee here, let s settle this 
 thing up in the morning. We re both excited 
 now, and we better cool off." Williams shook 
 his head and Wharton asked : " Why not ?" 
 Williams spoke : 
 
 " Senator Wharton, there must be a definite 
 settlement of this thing right now. The Post 
 wants an interview with me about this mat 
 ter, and I am to answer them to-night at elev 
 en o clock. If the books don t balance then, 
 I shall explain why they don t balance." He 
 tore a sheet of paper from a pad upon which 
 he was writing and said to Wharton : 
 
 "There s the note." 
 
 182
 
 Wharton hesitated and still playing a game 
 for time replied, sulkily : 
 
 " Gimme your pen." 
 
 When Wharton had signed the note Will 
 iams explained: "You need not send your 
 collateral over until to-morrow, but we shall 
 insist upon it then as a matter of form." 
 Wharton s mind reverted to the school bonds 
 as a help in last resort. He assented tacitly 
 and rose to go. As he put on his vest Will 
 iams exclaimed : " Hold on, Senator," and ad 
 dressed a servant who entered, " Show Sen 
 ator Felt in now, John." 
 
 Wharton s anger returned with a rush. He 
 started for the door, crying, "I m not in 
 on any of your damned private theatricals." 
 But Felt in the doorway blocked the passage. 
 Felt was tall. His closely cropped beard and 
 glinting nose-glasses gave him a hard, metallic 
 guise, and his unyielding monotonous voice 
 carried on the similitude. He faced Wharton, 
 who was coatless, flushed, and glistening with 
 perspiration, and the two men surveyed one 
 another as pugilists in the ring. Wharton 
 burst out first : 
 
 " Aw, you long-nosed, canting hypocrite ! 
 So you ain t above a little blackmailing trick 
 183
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 yourself." Felt removed his glasses and 
 wiped them, looking fairly at Wharton, who 
 bawled on : " This is your size ! Just about 
 your size ! To get a man in a rat-trap and then 
 bleed him. Oh, you damned, cowardly, psalm- 
 singing cur ! You re in on the rake off, are 
 you ? How much do you want ?" 
 
 Felt put on his glasses, lighted a match for 
 his cigar on his shoe-sole, and smiled, show 
 ing a set of beautiful white teeth of unusual 
 size. When Wharton lost breath and finished, 
 Felt spoke to Williams gayly : 
 
 " The senator s vocabulary seems to be well 
 spiced up this evening at any rate." Felt s 
 rasping little laugh cut the thread of the sen 
 tence. " Plenty of condiment, as my grand 
 mother used to say of the pudding." 
 
 Wharton had regained his breath and said, 
 as he grunted into his coat : " Now what the 
 devil are you doing here, anyhow !" 
 
 Felt seemed to pull himself together. The 
 smile died out of his face in a flash. His jaw 
 began to chop out the words not loudly, but 
 with remarkable precision, as his eyes through 
 his glasses appeared to flick the blood from 
 the purpling face of Wharton : 
 
 "I came here," said Felt, "to give you full 
 184
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 and fair notice that day after to-morrow in 
 the Senate I shall ask for an investigation of 
 this electric-wire deal of yours, and offer in 
 evidence the affidavits of a number of citizens, 
 and such other exhibits and documents as 
 may be needed to prove the justice of my re 
 quest." 
 
 "You think I won t pay the note? "in 
 quired Wharton, whose hand shook and 
 whose facial muscles quivered above his 
 mouth and about his nose. " Well, sir, I m 
 going to secure it with collateral." 
 
 " That," returned Felt, contemptuously, 
 " is immaterial and irrelevant. I know noth 
 ing of the arrangement you may have made 
 with Williams. Neither do I care. But I do 
 know that you re a bribe-taker and a corrupt 
 scoundrel, and I am going to do my duty by 
 the American people and prove it to them." 
 Felt paused an instant and looked at Whar 
 ton absently, then finished, " Submitting 
 some outward and visible signs of my in 
 ward and spiritual faith." 
 
 Wharton stared at Williams and asked: 
 " My collateral is good, A No. 1 school bonds 
 why do you hold this club over me ? Call 
 off your dog ! How much does he want ? " 
 
 185
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 A silence fell. Then Wharton turned to Felt 
 and spoke in a calmer voice, but with his face 
 still twitching: "Lookee here, Felt, let s 
 you and me fix this thing up. If you want 
 anything, ask for it like a man." Felt did 
 not answer, and Wharton walked around the 
 room with his hands behind him for nearly a 
 minute. He took a cigar from the desk in 
 front of Williams and lighted it mechanically, 
 striking the match on the side of his leg. 
 Felt and Williams watched him in silence as 
 he paced the longitude of the room three 
 times. He stopped and cast his bloodshot; 
 eyes on Felt and said : " Of course I hain t 
 got no blue stripe down my belly, and a lot of 
 you fellows back here who have think I m a 
 social leper." Wharton shook his head ma 
 jestically at Felt as he continued : " But out 
 West, sir out in God s country there are 
 several million people who believe in Toin 
 Wharton. They give me reason to hope for 
 something bigger than the United States 
 Senate. The time may come before long 
 when I can help you a good deal. But that s 
 neither here nor there now. Come right 
 down to first principles what you got agin 
 me ? Say what you want right out and you 
 186
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 can have it. If there s anything you don t 
 like in any of my bills on the calendar, say 
 so." The sound of his voice assured him ; 
 he had faith in his persuasive power. 
 
 " You might as well try to teach a rattle 
 snake the Beatitudes as to show you your 
 shortcomings, sir," answered Felt. " Every 
 thing you ve got on the calendar, from your 
 demagogic pension bill to your electric-wire 
 steal is dead wrong." 
 
 " All right then, Senator ; let s agree to drop 
 the pension bill does that suit you ? " 
 Wharton knew that his words put the bars 
 across his political career, but he was fighting 
 for life then and re-election seemed a little 
 matter, comparatively. 
 
 " My God ! what a treacherous cur you 
 are," exclaimed Felt. "I had hoped you be 
 lieved at least in that ! " 
 
 Wharton sat down facing Felt, who was 
 leaning against the door-jamb. Wharton 
 drew in deep breaths at long intervals apart, 
 and because the alcohol was leaving his head 
 he was having trouble to keep a coherent 
 train of thought. After he had gazed at Felt 
 for a long time rather stupidly he said : 
 
 " Damn it, Felt what you want to go and 
 187
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 persecute me for ? You ve got me, rnayb 
 but if I d got you, do you think I d grind you 
 to death ? Don t be a Shylock be a man. 
 I ll pay this outfit their notes all right, and 
 I ll give em good collateral. What s more, 
 I ll let you in with me in a little Western 
 Pacific deal I ve got, that there s a hundred 
 thousand in if you ll let up." 
 
 There was a whine in Wharton s voice that 
 maddened Felt. He walked up to Wharton 
 and bent over him. " Tom Wharton, I wasn t 
 in the Civil War because I was not old 
 enough," began Felt in his musketry voice, 
 which filled the room, but was so well con 
 trolled that it did not slip through the door- 
 cracks. " But I believe I have a duty to my 
 country now as sacred as that which called 
 my grandfather to Lexington, and my father 
 to Bull s Bun. That duty is to crush the 
 political life out of one of the most powerful 
 and dangerous influences menacing this nation 
 to-day the incarnation of political coward 
 ice, corruption, and demagoguery. My fore 
 bears didn t shrink, and I ll not. With every 
 talent God has given me I intend to fight 
 you, damn you, to fight you until I shall 
 strangle the last vestige of vitality from your 
 188
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 rotten political carcass. Do you understand 
 that, sir ? I ll show you whether or not 
 you ll shake your scarlet rags of presidential 
 ambition before me ! Why, man," and here 
 Felt s voice grew husky with repressed wrath 
 " why, man, I m going to drive you out of 
 the United States Senate into oblivion, with 
 the doors of the penitentiary banging at your 
 heels." 
 
 Felt s voice must have got into Wharton s 
 soul, for he grew paler and paler as Felt pro 
 ceeded. When he closed there was a deep 
 silence. In it Wharton began to slough off 
 his identity. He became a fear-stricken ani 
 mal. His wrinkles made his face look like 
 a dirty, cracked china plate. The trembling 
 creature that had been Wharton spoke with 
 Wharton s mouth and said : 
 
 " My good God Felt. Do you realize 
 what this m-m-means. Think of my family 
 my wife. You are not " 
 
 The Thing put its hands to its head in a 
 tremor of pain, and something akin to a sob 
 broke from its wracking frame. It was a 
 horrible sight for men s eyes to see. Will 
 iams looked away. His eyes met Felt s and 
 saw no mercy. 
 
 189
 
 STEATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 When Wharton finally got hold of his nerves 
 he said, weakly: 
 
 " You re young, Senator Felt. You re an 
 educated man. You have the advantage of 
 me for I am old. I am an ignorant old man, 
 and you can make fine speeches against me. 
 All right, go ahead ; ruin me ; but is it such a 
 great thing to whip an old man ? " Felt did 
 not reply and dropped into a chair near Will 
 iams. Wharton rose heavily. " Is there no 
 way I can make you see this like I do ? " he 
 asked. Felt shook his head. Whartou looked 
 appealingly at Williams, whose eyes were 
 downcast. The silence grew painful. Whar- 
 ton s hand groped for the door-knob. He 
 hesitated for a moment, then said, awkwardly : 
 
 " Well, gentlemen, I guess I ll have to bid 
 you good-night." 
 
 Before midnight Wharton stumbled into a 
 Turkish bath with the daze of the combat 
 upon him. By ten o clock the next morning, 
 after he had deadened an agonizing headache 
 with antipyrine, a maudlin logic had con 
 vinced him that Senator Felt was a stock 
 holder in the Consolidated Electric Light 
 Company, and that his greed as a stockholder 
 to get the $75,000 back was stimulated by his 
 
 190
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 ambition as a senator to get a new lease of 
 life by defeating the Wharton service pension 
 bill. Wharton was satisfied with his own 
 shrewdness, but the stupid smile he wore at 
 the thought of his penetration of Felt s busi 
 ness acumen faded into a frightened stare 
 as the recollection of Felt s voice swept over 
 him. In the hotel corridors and in the street 
 he fancied that he heard his name spoken in 
 derision, and imagined that his back was the 
 target at which every eye was shooting curious 
 and malicious darts. He hurried through the 
 Capitol building and into his committee-room 
 like a coward under fire. 
 
 "Bob," mumbled Wharton to his private 
 secretary, " did you see that piece in the Star 
 last night?" 
 
 Wharton s heavy fingers were cluttering 
 the mail upon his desk as he spoke. When 
 Dunning replied affirmatively, Wharton ques 
 tioned : 
 
 "Anything more in the morning papers 
 about it ? " 
 
 " Nothing very much about the same," an 
 swered Dunning. 
 
 "Mention any names?" asked Wharton 
 quickly. 
 
 191
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 " Not exactly. Want to see the Post ? It 
 has the most to say." 
 
 Wharton answered with a negative grunt 
 and tried in vain to call the Thompson woman 
 at three different telephone numbers. For 
 the inebriated syllogisms of his logic had per 
 suaded him that if he could get the school 
 bonds to Williams, to secure the note, Felt 
 would be placated and the threatened blow 
 averted. This conviction grew upon him until 
 it became a mania, and at noon he sent Dun 
 ning out to the house on the green-car line for 
 the valise containing the bonds. When he re 
 turned empty-handed, and when Wharton 
 could not find the Thompson woman by tele 
 phone again, he damned her and her kind 
 almost vigorously. At lunch he put into the 
 coal-box of his physical machine an astonish 
 ingly large quantity of soft-shell crabs and 
 much whiskey even much for Senator Whar 
 ton, to whom half a pint in an hour was an 
 adult s dose. All the morning he had dreaded 
 to enter the Senate Chamber as a condemned 
 man dreads to look at his gallows. But 
 Wharton was shrewd enough to know that he 
 must not skulk. The liquor made him reck 
 less, even as he hoped it would. He stalked 
 192
 
 THE MERCY OF DEATH 
 
 into the Senate Chamber with his mind made 
 up that it would take a bigger man than Sen 
 ator Felt, backed by cartloads of affidavits, to 
 make Tom Wharton flinch. His large frame 
 suggested the unwieldy bulk and power of a 
 marine creature as he flung himself into his 
 seat. 
 
 Ordinarily pages buzzed around Wharton 
 like flies, during the first few minutes of his 
 presence at his desk. But that day none came. 
 No brother senator leaned over Wharton to 
 confer with him, as was the custom. Whar 
 ton rose and joined a group of his associates 
 in the back part of the room. The group 
 melted in a few moments. He repeated his 
 experiment twice with similar results. Scan 
 dal hissed through the place, and everyone 
 feared to help Wharton lest he should spread 
 his infection. At four o clock Wharton s 
 head was a pandemonium of furies, and his 
 face was livid with rage. The swollen arter 
 ies in his wrinkled neck pumped the fires of 
 the seventh pit into his brain. He tried to 
 quench them with more whiskey. The only 
 thought that helped him was the belief that 
 he had the bonds and could secure the notes, 
 and thereby stop Felt s investigation. He 
 193
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 hugged that comfort with drunken affection, 
 and reminded his more bibulous associates 
 of the poker party that had been arranged 
 for the approaching night at the house where 
 he had left the valise with the bonds. Be 
 cause a subconscious fear was upon Wharton 
 he telephoned to Williams many times that 
 afternoon between four and six to assure him 
 that the bonds would be delivered that even 
 ing. But the house on the green-car line did 
 not answer the telephone, and at dusk Whar 
 ton took Dunning to get the valise and de 
 liver the bonds to Williams. 
 
 While Dunning waited in the hall of the 
 Thompson woman s house he heard this dia 
 logue upstairs ; what the preliminaries were 
 he did not know, but when the voice of the 
 woman rose he heard her say : 
 
 " Well, if I needed the money I needed it. 
 The bonds were here, so I soaked em." 
 
 Then the man s voice Wharton s voice 
 spoke unpleasant things. Dunning could 
 not see Wharton s face, nor could he tell what 
 Wharton did. But the woman s strident voice 
 broke in : 
 
 " You drunken old coward ! Don t you 
 raise your hand again. It will be better for 
 194
 
 you to lose twice the $50,000 that I got on 
 em than to try that trick on me." 
 
 Other things passed which need not be 
 set down here, and when Tom Wharton de 
 scended to the hall he was dizzy and felt 
 for his steps cautiously. But he looked into 
 hell without blinking and he said to Dun 
 ning: 
 
 " You needn t wait, Bob, I ll fix it up in the 
 morning." 
 
 He knew that with the bonds he had stolen 
 from his State treasury, pawned by a woman 
 like the Thompson woman and unredeemed 
 by him, whatever Senator Felt might say 
 about the electric company s bribery case 
 could not matter much. So Wharton gripped 
 his consciousness by the roots of it and 
 averted a panic. But over and over rang 
 Felt s parting words : " with the doors of the 
 penitentiary banging at your heels." In 
 Wharton s ears they clanged like the din of 
 some monster gong, as he played the cards 
 that night. Fear twisted his nerves tighter 
 and tighter. When a telephone-bell tinkled 
 he was abject with terror until it had rung off. 
 When he caught other players peering into 
 his face, as is the habit of poker players, 
 195
 
 STEATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Wharton winced and the gong in his head 
 clamored louder than ever. 
 
 It was long after midnight, and the cham 
 pagne-bucket had come and gone many times. 
 But the cut-glass decanter with the brown 
 liquor did not leave Wharton s elbow, and by 
 three o clock his face was a sickly white, and 
 his eyes were sparkling. Wharton was deal 
 ing the cards. He had passed around once, 
 when suddenly he tossed a card into the air, 
 then threw his face upward, with an indescrib 
 able look of resentful anger upon his feat 
 ures. But his eyes were wild and staring, 
 and his head dropped to the table with a 
 thump. When they wiped the froth from his 
 mouth Tom Wharton was dead. 
 
 196
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 OLEASANT EIDGE, in Hancock County, 
 1 at the close of the eighties, was a prairie 
 village. The prairie of the town merged into 
 the prairie of the country, and only a wall of 
 sunflowers upon the abandoned " additions " 
 marked the line of distinction between plain 
 and village. And because there was no other 
 means of support in Hancock County than 
 farming, each of the 10,000 people there 
 was a sky-gazer. The community, the State, 
 the whole Missouri valley west of Omaha, was 
 BO closely united in a fraternity of weather- 
 worship, that the wind blowing over the 
 prairie bore either a dirge or a hosanna to all 
 who heard it. The great valley had been 
 settled in the seventies, the settlers had bor 
 rowed money in the eighties, mortgages fell 
 due in the early nineties, and everyone had 
 more land than he could farm closely and 
 more debt than he could handle conveniently. 
 In 90, when spring came, a crop of despair 
 199
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 sprang up in the hearts of the people. May 
 be the seeds of the popular melancholy fell in 
 the fallow ground of an April drought which 
 killed the wheat. Perhaps the despair grew 
 from the approaching pay-day on the iiiim- 
 merable mortgages that held the land in their 
 grip. The cause is immaterial ; the effect is 
 interesting. It was surprising then, but now 
 it seems marvellous almost past belief that 
 all over Hancock County, all over the plains 
 that drain into the Missouri River, men and 
 women fell in the throes of a mental epidemic. 
 The chief hallucination of the mania was that 
 the people owed more than they could pay ; or 
 in justice should be asked to pay. The mania 
 manifested itself in the formation of a secret 
 order called the Farmers Alliance. The germ 
 of revolution was in the air. The servant with 
 his talent buried in a napkin was exalted, while 
 he who had increased his ten an hundred-fold 
 was execrated and his name became a by- word 
 and a hissing. In a land almost of milk and 
 honey, where not only bread and meat, but 
 pies and cakes adorned the board of the hum 
 blest farmer, the people came to honor the 
 orator who said: "Men are selling their bod 
 ies and women their souls to get the neces- 
 200
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 saries of life." It was all crazy bigotry, yet 
 while the mental disorder raged, it held the 
 people in a grip as vicious as a bodily dis 
 temper. 
 
 Now when the world turns upside down 
 many strange things come to the top. Like 
 wise in a season when men and women glori 
 fied their emotions, persons of reason were in 
 disfavor, and the ne er-do-weel found his 
 council in demand. In politics, the well- 
 known leaders were retired and a new set 
 appeared. The doctor, lawyer, merchant and 
 chief, were shoved aside for the horse-trader, 
 the sewing-machine agent, the patent right 
 pedler, the itinerant preacher, the tenant 
 farmer, the lawyer without clients, the school 
 teacher without pupils. Pleasant Ridge con 
 tributed Dan Gregg to the collection. 
 
 Dan Gregg, during the seventies, lived on 
 an upland farm. He was always on the 
 books of the Aid Committee when the drought 
 came, always bringing in this week s butter 
 for last week s flour ; always experimenting 
 with patent gates on broken fences and always 
 taking the unpopular side of every debate at 
 the Johnson s Ford Literary. During the 
 boom of the eighties, Gregg sold his equity 
 201
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 iii his farm for enough cash to move to town, 
 where he opened a real estate and insurance 
 office. He barely made a living, but he be 
 came known as the town infidel, and his lank 
 figure was familiar on the streets, where, on 
 Saturday afternoons, he enjoyed wrangling 
 over religion. He quoted Voltaire and Tom 
 Paine and Bob Ingersoll with a glibness which 
 too often put to rout in public the ministers 
 whose standard histories and works of fiction 
 Gregg borrowed in private. Whenever there 
 was a third party in county politics, Gregg 
 was foremost in it. Once he ran for the 
 Legislature on the Greenback ticket, and 
 once for the State Senate on the Prohibition 
 ticket. But the vote he polled was too small 
 to report in the returns by precincts. 
 
 When the Farmers Alliance formed, Gregg 
 took to it as a duck takes to water ; and be 
 cause it was a weakness of the cause to give 
 a patient ear to sound and fury, the Alliance 
 in Hancock County found in Gregg its natural 
 leader. Men who had laughed at him for 
 nearly a generation, saw in their laughter 
 only evidence that they had been blinded by 
 the Money Power. And women who had 
 taught their children to hurry by Gregg oil 
 202
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 the street when he was talking religion, sat 
 rapt under the drippings of his altar when 
 he addressed the Alliance at the Fairview 
 school house. 
 
 In the early spring of 90, Dan Gregg held 
 forth every Saturday in Main Street of Pleas 
 ant Ridge, slouching against the sunny side 
 of a building, his broad-brimmed hat on the 
 back of his head. He was full of quips and 
 jibes, thus : " You fellers have heard me say 
 it before, but if you live you ll hear me say it 
 again. I never swallered no rithmetic and 
 I ain t et a dictionary. I m just an ordinary 
 man common or cookin variety as you 
 might say. And what s more, I ain t no 
 politician. For they re smart fellers, these 
 politicians, these here brass-serpents in the 
 wilderness! And, Good Lord, how we do 
 worship em ! We strut around and slap our 
 suspenders and pretend we re free born 
 American citizens," and here Gregg would 
 laugh a rasping laugh that could be heard the 
 whole length of the little street. " But just 
 let J. C. Pike come out of his old bank door 
 and snap his fingers at you, and the whole 
 blame lot of you gets down on your marrow 
 bones and begins knockin your rattlin gourds 
 203
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 on the earth to show proper respect to your 
 brass idol." "Whereat the big guns of the 
 crowd would fire volleys of approval shout 
 ing, " Hit ein again, Dan," " That s right," 
 "Amen, Brother," "Hurrah for Gregg." 
 
 When Gregg had his crowd in humor for 
 it, he would preach doctrine something after 
 this fashion : " Now here s the way this mar 
 vellous fabric of our national finance is woven. 
 We common onery plugs that Abe Lincoln 
 used to call the great plain people we owe 
 J. C. Pike of the Pleasant Ridge First Na 
 tional Bank some money. That s J. C. s 
 assets. But t s our liability. J. C. takes the 
 notes up to Kansas City to the National Bank 
 of Commerce and sells em and they are the 
 K. C. man s assets, but our liability. And 
 the Kansas City man gets on the train and 
 takes em to Chicago and sells em to the 
 Chicago National and they become the Chi 
 cago man s assets, but they re our liability." 
 It was Gregg s habit to bend his body for 
 ward and slap his leg with his hat every time 
 he roared out the words "our liability." 
 " Then the Chicago man takes em down to the 
 National City Bank of New York and sells em 
 to old Rockefeller, and they re his assets, 
 204
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 but they re our liability. And so it goes til 
 Rothschilds get em in London, and they re 
 his assets, but you bet your bottom dollar 
 they re still our liability." 
 
 After a nervous silence Gregg would add 
 passionately, " Every man gets assets out of 
 debts but the man that owes em the man 
 that gets up at four o clock in the mornin to 
 feed the calves and look after the stock and 
 milk the cows and pay them debts he gets 
 nothing but liabilities. What I want to see 
 is a law passed that will give us fellers that 
 dig our toes in the ground and set up nights 
 to pay them debts a chance to make em our 
 assets." 
 
 Then his voice lifted as he went on : "I 
 tell you I m sick and tired of seein a lot of 
 bandy-legged dudes in high collars standin 
 around eatin up our substance and callin us 
 the ignorant masses. But you ain t," he 
 jeered good-naturedly. If the crowd pro 
 tested Gregg would wag his head and return : 
 " Oh you don t fool me ! I ve heard you be 
 fore. What you fellers want is to work 
 twenty-four hours a day and twenty-six on 
 Sunday for a slab of bacon and a little good 
 eatin tobacco, and give the rest of your earn-
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 ins to the outfit that comes down the Wolf 
 Creek branch in a special car, eatin terrapin 
 and drinkin high wines and lyin awake 
 nights over the terrible moral state of the 
 peasantry." 
 
 Then Gregg would break forth again in a 
 laugh that sounded like a rip-saw in a knot, 
 and slap his hat on his thigh and go on down 
 the street looking for another crowd, hoping 
 to find someone who would open an argu 
 ment. He was loaded for argument. He 
 carried with him the kit and accoutrements 
 of the Alliance lecturer a small legal tender 
 note with the " exception clause " upon it, a 
 copy of a rare old bogie, the " Hazzard cir 
 cular," that told how the crime of 1873 was 
 committed, a copy of the Declaration of In 
 dependence, and the Constitution of the 
 United States. He also had a book of statis 
 tics, that indicated the prices of silver, of 
 wheat and of pig iron from the year of the 
 flood till the day of judgment, or thereabout. 
 
 Therefore when the Alliance people needed 
 a congressional district organizer, they chose 
 Gregg for the place, and even as Peter 
 dropped his nets, Gregg left home and busi 
 ness to follow the call. By April he was 
 
 206
 
 What you fellers want is to work twenty-four hours a day and 
 twenty-six on Sunday."
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 journeying over a territory larger than the 
 State of Massachusetts, organizing the people 
 by school districts into phalanxes to fight the 
 oppressors. 
 
 This movement was not Gregg s nor was 
 it within human control. It was a fanati 
 cism like the crusades. Indeed the delusion 
 that was working on the people took the form 
 of religious frenzy. Sacred hymns were 
 torn from their pious tunes to give place to 
 words which deified the cause and made gold 
 and all its symbols, capital, wealth, plutoc 
 racy diabolical. At night, from 10,000 little 
 white school-house windows, lights twinkled 
 back vain hope to the stars. For the thou 
 sands who assembled under the school-house 
 lamps believed that when their Legislature 
 met and their Governor was elected, the 
 millennium would come by proclamation. 
 They sang their barbaric songs inunrhythmic 
 jargon, with something of the same mad faith 
 that inspired the martyrs going to the stake. 
 Far into the night the voices rose, women s 
 voices, children s voices, the voices of old 
 men, of youths and of maidens rose on the 
 ebbing prairie breezes as the crusaders of the 
 revolution rode home, praising the people s 
 207
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 will as though it were God s will and cursing 
 wealth for its iniquity. It was a season of 
 shibboleths and fetishes and slogans. Rea 
 son slept and the passions jealousy, covet- 
 ousness, hatred ran amuck, and who ever 
 would check them was crucified in public 
 contumely. 
 
 When spring closed much speaking liad 
 made Dan Gregg proficient, and his earnest 
 ness and enthusiasm gave him eloquence. 
 The fees he received as Alliance district 
 organizer provided him with the best income 
 he had ever enjoyed, and when his County 
 Alliance put out a non-partisan County ticket, 
 Gregg strengthened himself by refusing every 
 nomination on the list. His faith in the 
 movement grew. He quit jibing at the peo 
 ple and from telling them that they would 
 accomplish nothing, he began to promise 
 much. For the germ of the mental madness 
 was working on him. He signed the call for 
 the non-partisan convention in his congres 
 sional district and presided at the convention 
 which put up a horse-trader to run against 
 Henry Myton for Congress. Gregg s ideas 
 dominated the congressional platform, which 
 had some of Karl Marx in it, a little Louis 
 208
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 Blanc with dashes of Parsons and the Chicago 
 brotherhood of anarchists to spice it. Gregg 
 was proud of his platform, and the night 
 following the convention, entertained two 
 Chicago reporters until after midnight with 
 his theories on socialism. 
 
 About this time Dan Gregg began to be 
 a personage in the State. He was acquiring 
 that indefinable something called prestige. 
 Anecdotes sprang up in his footsteps. His 
 epigrams became sayings and his declarations 
 became final in matters of Alliance policy. 
 When he went to the State capital to sign the 
 call for the non-partisan convention to nomi 
 nate State officers, Gregg s reportorial friends 
 had told the other reporters about him, and 
 his picture appeared prominently in the Sun 
 day papers. The most accurate description 
 ever written of Gregg, as he looked in the 
 famous campaign of 1890, appeared in the 
 Sunday Tribune a few days before the Alli 
 ance convention. The description occurred 
 in the course of a page-long article about the 
 new movement. Under a sub-head, " Pen- 
 picture of First Conspirator," came these 
 lines : 
 
 " Imagine a loose-jointed man who handles 
 209
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 himself like a lean, hungry cat nervous but 
 not fidgety whose eyes, deep and coal black, 
 shift as a humming-bird flits ; a lantern-jawed 
 man who has invariably shaved day before 
 yesterday ; a man whose shock of coarse, 
 black hair rises over his high bulging brow 
 as if to defy all the combs in the world, 
 when he takes off his two-acre black hat. 
 Imagine a sombre, gloomy face, illumined by 
 a lime-light smile, and vocalized by a voice 
 that has the range and power of a slide 
 trombone, and you have Dan Gregg of Han 
 cock County, who might be called First 
 Conspirator in this movement. He is the 
 only man in the mob who is impervious to 
 ridicule. Someone at tho capital started the 
 story that Gregg had tried to go to bed in the 
 National Hotel elevator, mistaking it for his 
 room, and five hours after he heard it he was 
 telling it on himself for the sober truth. 
 When they introduced Gregg to Harvey K. 
 Bolton, attorney for the Corn Belt railroad, 
 Bolton said : "Well, Mr. Gregg, I rather 
 expected to find you clanking the chains of 
 slavery. Gregg retorted, beaming at the 
 railroad attorney : Yes, and I am surprised 
 to find you ain t wearing }-our iron heels of 
 210
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 oppression to-day. Those who have heard 
 him speak say he is a spell-binder. They 
 say he goes stark mad and takes his crowd 
 to bedlam with him. But for all that he is 
 as common as an old shoe, there is a queer 
 streak in him somewhere; for when he is 
 alone his lips move incessantly. But the 
 worst thing to his discredit is that he per 
 mits the people to call him honest Dan 
 Gregg. " 
 
 The Alliance State convention, which Gregg 
 had helped to call, met in the opera-house at 
 the capital. Gregg did not sit with his 
 County delegation, but mingled with the del 
 egates and demonstrated that he could be 
 what the reporters called a good handshaker. 
 
 Among others Gregg met James McCord, 
 professor of sociology at the State University. 
 With McCord was a w r oman handsomely 
 gowned, whom McCord introduced to Gregg 
 as Mrs. Baring. The two men met with mu 
 tual curiosity, tempered on Gregg s part with 
 respectful admiration. For McCord s name 
 was on the backs of two text-books on social 
 ism and of a book on taxation. When the 
 meeting was called to order, Gregg and 
 McCord and Mrs. Baring went to sit in the 
 211
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 wings of the stage. McCord was a short, 
 clean-shaven man with a heavy body; his 
 large head was covered with fiery Scotch-red 
 hair. Mrs. Baring was fair and blue-eyed, 
 She had large even white teeth, with light 
 wavy hair that would not show the gray for 
 a score of years. She was tall with the 
 weight that comes to those who like their 
 beefsteaks rare, and their game a trifle high, 
 with lines of character, not of worry, in her 
 face, with an easily balanced laugh that often 
 brought out a double chin Mrs. Baring was 
 a widow of nearly two decades good stand 
 ing. She and McCord were cronies. For 
 fifteen years Mrs. Baring had been able to do 
 what she pleased, to go where she pleased, 
 to entertain whom she pleased, and no one 
 connected her actions with matrimonial de 
 signs. So when the people s convention met, 
 before which her brother was a possible can 
 didate for secretary of state, she felt perfectly 
 free to ask McCord to go with her to the 
 convention. She laughed at the movement 
 which called the convention, yet she was 
 curious to see Dan Gregg, who would be the 
 personage of the occasion. She knew what 
 sort he was, for Mrs. Baring knew politicians. 
 212
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 She had studied the tribe at dinners, at re 
 ceptions, and frequently at her own home. 
 After the formalities of the introduction were 
 passed, Mrs. Baring, Gregg, and McCord sat 
 for some time watching the mob in shirt 
 sleeves take form. The human cauldron 
 boiled and sputtered for half an hour getting 
 a committee on Order of Business. There 
 were no recognized leaders and everyone was 
 uncertain whose voice to trust. In the con 
 vention were scores of broken-down politi 
 cal outcasts, many Greenback orators whose 
 fame had expired by reason of the statute of 
 twenty years limitation ; young men strug 
 gling for prominence and women jostling for 
 place. But the great majority of the dele 
 gates were earnest people sincerely striving 
 to bring about a great reform. 
 
 " Well, what do you think of it ? " asked 
 Gregg of McCord. 
 
 " Very pitiful infinitely sad." 
 
 Gregg s black eyes snapped a question, 
 but before it could be voiced, someone 
 called out : " Gregg, Gregg speech 
 Dan Gregg ! " and the cry swept over the 
 house. 
 
 While the chairman pounded the delegates 
 213
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 back to the regular order, the electricity of 
 the occasion played across Mrs. Baring s 
 face in a little excited smile. McCord said : 
 " You should be proud of that, sir." McCord 
 spoke so kindly that Gregg could not mis 
 trust him and pushed his question : 
 
 " Why do you think this is so pitiful as 
 you said, Professor ? " 
 
 McCord answered, shaking his head : "They 
 expect so much." Mrs. Baring, smiling with 
 good-humored interest at the spectacle in the 
 pit, cut in rather idly : " They propose to do 
 in a few months what God has failed to do in 
 a good many thousand years." The feminine 
 of it would have been " Providence," but Mrs. 
 Baring said " God." 
 
 Gregg stared at her for an instant before 
 he turned to McCord and asked : " How do 
 they expect too much ? " Whereat Mrs. Bar 
 ing catalogued Gregg as a social impossi 
 bility. 
 
 " They expect to reform the world imme 
 diately," returned McCord. "But they will 
 find that the human nature which is at the 
 bottom of our ills can t be changed at the 
 next meeting of the legislature." 
 
 Gregg was ruminating on McCord s words 
 214
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 while the committee on resolutions was form 
 ing. The name of William Thomas was 
 read. McCord broke in : " What an exca 
 vation this movement is." And Mrs. Baring 
 mused aloud : " Yes, I supposed the bones 
 of that old mastodon, Bill Thomas, were re 
 posing in the tombs of the mound-builders." 
 
 McCord asked Gregg: "Do the people 
 recognize Thomas ? " 
 
 "Yes, they do. Why shouldn t they?" 
 asked Gregg irritably. "He is a powerful 
 man on the stump." McCord whirled in his 
 chair and caught Gregg s earnest eyes. 
 
 "Well, I ll tell you why. Bill Thomas 
 hurt this State worse in one year by his 
 fraudulent sale of school lands than Wall 
 Street can hurt it in a century." 
 
 While the resolution committee filed out, 
 the convention called intermittently for 
 Gregg. He stretched his legs in his chair 
 and suppressed a yawn. But his nerves were 
 wrenched as a thoroughbred s are at the 
 sound of a gong. He retorted ostentatiously : 
 " I don t understand that ; he s the strongest 
 man in the First District." 
 
 The desire of the crowd for a speech was 
 appeased by another man who began by 
 215
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 rubbing his hands unctuously and pleading 
 for someone to ask him a question. 
 
 "When people get wrought up as these 
 people are," McCord replied to Gregg, " they 
 believe that if a man has one strong virtue, 
 he has all the virtues ; if he has one vice, he 
 has all the vices." 
 
 The oily man on the platform ground along. 
 Gregg s tightening nerves made him pat a 
 foot on the floor absently. He stared at 
 McCord but did not answer him. Gregg s 
 soul was in the crowd behind him ; he felt 
 the convention growing restless. He half 
 arose, and sat back in his chair uneasily. 
 The orator paused to plead again for some 
 one to ask him questions. Gregg itched to 
 get on the platform and silence the multitude. 
 McCord tried to recall Gregg to their conver 
 sation by saying : 
 
 " Don t think I m against you, Mr. Gregg, 
 nor the movement. I m with it heart and 
 hand." Gregg blinked at McCord rather 
 stupidly for a moment and put his hand on 
 McCord s chair and responded dully as a 
 man making talk : 
 
 "I m mighty glad of that, Professor. We 
 need brains in this thing terrible bad." 
 216
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 The man on the platform was talking 
 against almost open rebellion at his contin 
 uance, as McCord replied : 
 
 " I don t know ; my theory is, that too 
 much brains hurts a cause. Would Stephen 
 have been stoned to death if he had known 
 how many hundreds and thousands of years 
 away his ideal was ? " 
 
 Mrs. Baring had been watching Gregg s 
 rising passion. It stirred her against her 
 will. Gregg was walking up and down by 
 his companions. His eyes were big and 
 glowing, and occasionally he ran his long 
 fingers through his coarse black hair. The 
 woman took McCord s words from his 
 mouth and said to him, rather than to 
 Gregg, as her eyes turned from McCord to 
 Gregg : 
 
 " It s mad enthusiasm that makes things 
 move in the world, I think." 
 
 Gregg stopped before her and seemed to 
 be muttering the words ; the spirit of the 
 crowd was upon him, and about him like a 
 wraith. The man before the convention was 
 floundering; someone in the back part of 
 the opera-house rose. The flurry distracted 
 Gregg and he neglected to reply to Mrs. Bar- 
 217
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 ing, but kept smiling at her. The interrupter 
 was saying: 
 
 "Mistber speaker, I have wan quistion." 
 The house became suddenly quiet. 
 
 The orator on the platform was beaming. 
 It was his trick to trip up questioners with 
 repartee. He replied to the Irishman : 
 
 " Why, certainly, as many as you please." 
 
 " "Wull thin, Sor, tell me," retorted the 
 questioner, " tell me and 250 sweatin fellow- 
 citizens why in hell you don t saw off and give 
 Dan Gregg a chanst? " 
 
 For five minutes, and that is a long time 
 for any public gathering to continue in one 
 mood, the convention laughed and cheered 
 and laughed. Gregg s heart was pumping 
 fire. His eyes reflected the flames. Then 
 someone began stamping his feet to a rhythm 
 and calling, " Gregg Gregg Honest Dan 
 Gregg." Two, three, a dozen, a score, 
 half a hundred joined the chant and in a 
 minute the whole convention was calling in 
 unison for Gregg, who was stone blind drunk 
 with the elixir of power. As Gregg rose he 
 said to McCord, but he looked at Mrs. Baring 
 
 t: Tm kind of ashamed to make this speech 
 before you, Professor. I d rather make it 
 
 218
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 before almost any man in " But the 
 
 chairman, who had just finished introducing 
 Gregg as the Abraham Lincoln of the Mis 
 souri Valley, was rushing him on the stage, 
 and he appeared amid a roar of cheers. 
 
 The crowd caught Gregg s infectious grin 
 as he sauntered down the stage, with one 
 hand in his pocket, and the other swinging 
 his big black hat. He nodded carelessly to 
 the chairman, put his hat beside the water 
 pitcher and stepped forward, while the crowd 
 yelled its approbation. He put his hand to 
 his long, clean-shaven chin, and blinked at 
 the audience for a moment, then stretching 
 out his arms he commanded quiet. Gregg 
 began in a deep, repressed, conversational 
 voice : 
 
 " If Wall Street has got any friends in this 
 meetin " (the elision of the g occurred with 
 deliberation), " I judge from their hallelujahs 
 that they hain t exactly unregenerate and im 
 penitent. I take it they are at least on pray- 
 in and intercedin terms." 
 
 Mrs. Baring caught herself leaning forward 
 on the edge of her chair, feeling the emotional 
 curreiit from the magnet quiver over the 
 crowd. 
 
 219
 
 STEATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 When the applause cleared, Gregg went on : 
 " As I understand it, this convention didn t 
 come to town in private cars and special 
 trains; consequently I am told that we are 
 socialists, bomb-throwing anarchists and ene 
 mies of society." He paused a moment, 
 locked his hands behind him, paced half way 
 across the stage, then said in low, solemn, de 
 liberate tones, as he unclasped his hands, 
 leaned forward with his finger cocked and 
 pointed at the crowd : 
 
 "My friends, eighteen centuries ago they 
 would have crucified us for the Ocala plat 
 form. To-day they are only trying to keep 
 us out of the State-house. The world is 
 really growing better." Then his voice rose 
 and he cried: "Think what would happen if 
 Christ came to this town to-day. Why, John 
 Gardiner and Harvey K. Bolton, the two im 
 penitent thieves, would go before that dough- 
 faced Pontius Pilate up there in the Supreme 
 Court and get an injunction against the Naz- 
 arene for disturbing the peace of the Sunset 
 Route and the Com Belt, and some Irish 
 centurion would have him in the Sixth Street 
 jail before sundown." After the laughter had 
 ebbed, he proceeded : 
 
 220
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 "I ll tell you, it s no laughing matter. If 
 the Ocala platform incites these blood-suck 
 ing Wall Street vampires to anger, what 
 in God s name would they do if someone 
 should rise up to preach the Sermon on 
 the Mount ? " 
 
 That was the last sentence that any re 
 porter got. The speech could not be reported 
 any more than the gyrations of a serpent 
 charming a bird may be put in words ; any 
 more than the reflections of a revolving mir 
 ror may be made a matter of record. The man 
 who waved his arms and played on the mar 
 vellous instrument of his voice, became trans 
 formed. His loose muscles assumed the 
 rigidity of catalepsy. He fell into a slow, 
 mechanical, cat-like walk, following the lines 
 of a double ellipse up and down the stage. 
 At his climax he stood stock-still and talked. 
 It was stifling hot. As the wind makes bil 
 lows in the prairie grass, Dan Gregg, who 
 was not Dan Gregg, but a magician, swayed 
 the great crowd at his whiin. The delegates 
 laughed, they cried, they shuddered; they 
 clinched their fists ; they cheered and knew 
 it not, and orators and auditors, chained to 
 gether by a common frenzy that each pro- 
 221
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 duced upon the other, went out of reason to 
 gether. 
 
 When he had finished speaking, Gregg 
 hastened back of the scenes. There was an 
 hysterical din of tin-horns, kazoos, stamping 
 of feet, and the clamor of a multitude of 
 voices. Gregg fell limply into a chair, apart 
 from the others. Mrs. Baring expelled a full 
 breath and beneath the din, said to McCord : 
 " Heavens, what a marvellous one-string trick- 
 fiddler he is ! I feel that I ve been the string 
 which he s played all his tunes on." Then 
 smiling, she added, as the chiffon at her throat 
 fluttered in an exhausted sigh : "How frazzled 
 out that sort of thing leaves one ! " 
 
 McCord waved his hand excitedly and 
 cried : " Why, it was magnificent, superb ! " 
 
 Mrs. Baring, still a little pale and a-tremble 
 but with a steady, merry eye, shook her head 
 and replied : " The reincarnation of Marat, 
 Jimmy ; clever, uncanny legerdemain ! " The 
 applause was becoming spasmodic. McCord 
 went over to Gregg and put out his hand, and 
 said as the men s hands gripped : 
 
 " It was most wonderful, sir ; in spirit I 
 bow my head to your heel as the knight of 
 old bowed to his king, to let you know that 
 222
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 henceforth in this cause I am your man." It 
 was rather a formal speech, but McCord did 
 it well, and that night, amid a crash of ap 
 plause the ballots were cast which nominated 
 by acclamation Dan Gregg of Hancock Coun 
 ty for Governor on the Non-partisan Peo 
 ple s Party ticket. It took all the next day 
 to nominate the other candidates on the State 
 ticket. William Thomas, McCord s aversion, 
 was nominated for State Treasurer. A woman 
 writer of an alliance song- book, who had never 
 taught school, was nominated for State Super 
 intendent of Instruction. Mrs. Baring s broth 
 er, George Evans, a short grass country 
 school-teacher, who had made some reputa 
 tion as a stump- speaker, was put up for Sec 
 retary of State, a rich farmer in the stock- 
 raising country for State Auditor, and thus 
 the ticket grew. 
 
 Gregg s nomination took him off his feet, 
 swept away his bearings, and left him in a 
 state of spent confusion. By nature he was a 
 leaner. His wife, whom he had leaned on in 
 adversity, he felt to be inadequate in pros 
 perity. He did not consider her possible as 
 an adviser, and in truth she was impossible. 
 In Pleasant Ridge, where for a generation,
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 men bad despised and reviled him as the town 
 infidel and the Greenback crank, he could 
 think of no one to whom he might turn for 
 advice and strength. He hesitated for several 
 days before he followed his impulse and called 
 upon James McCord. Some kind dispensa 
 tion of Providence made McCord respond to 
 Gregg s Macedonian cry, and McCord was 
 made chairman of the State Central Committee 
 at Gregg s request. Two weeks after the con 
 vention adjourned Gregg s campaign was 
 going on in a business-like manner. For 
 McCord w r as methodical, industrious, and 
 efficient. But he was not a leader. Indeed, 
 the men who seem to be leading mobs are 
 really led by mobs ; are taken off their feet 
 by waves of impulse and suggestion, so that 
 mob-leaders are really as irresponsible as the 
 mobs. But McCord was strong He was 
 free from the prevalent mental derangement ; 
 ho was only influenced by Gregg. McCord 
 surrendered to an individual, not to a panic. 
 So he directed his mob with considerable 
 sanity. And yet he was only a train-despatcher. 
 He did not furnish the motor; that came from 
 the people. No man could have generated the 
 wonderful power which swept the Missouri
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 Valley that year. It came as a cyclone comes. 
 It was a product of conditions. Gregg him 
 self had no conception of the force behind 
 him. 
 
 One morning Gregg and McCord sat on the 
 State-house steps, reviewing an Alliance pro 
 cession. For an hour and a half it had been 
 filing past them ; bands playing, pyramids of 
 children on hay-racks singing ; from farm 
 wagons, home-made banners flying ; cheer 
 ing continually rising ; fife and drum thrill 
 ing and throbbing, and all inspired by the 
 blind frenzied faith that moves mountains. 
 For two months Gregg had been a part of 
 similar spectacles every day in his campaign. 
 Yet he could not grasp their import. He 
 had been daft in his Greenback days when 
 he fancied all the world was mad, and then 
 when the votes were counted but Gregg did 
 not like to think of those times. A banner 
 had just passed, carried by the old soldiers, 
 denouncing the President of the United States 
 for a traitor because of his friendship to Wall 
 Street, when Gregg, who had been looking 
 at the festive spectacle for a long time, turned 
 to McCord and said : 
 
 "Say, Mac, just think Governor, man!
 
 STEATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 I m running for Governor." He slapped Mc- 
 Cord on the shoulder and exclaimed with a 
 laugh : " Say honest, Mac ! wouldn t it nat 
 urally beat hell if I was elected ? 
 
 McCord did not reply for two minutes. 
 The children filing by in red, white, and blue 
 gowns, singing a political parody on " Near 
 the Cross, gave McCord time to think. 
 When he spoke he was sighting along his 
 cane pointed between his toes over the bal 
 cony railing. 
 
 " You will probably be elected. I really 
 believe that you are a man of destiny, and 
 you ll make it in this election." 
 
 A moment later, Gregg saw Mrs. Baring 
 approaching with a young man whom McCord 
 identified to Gregg as Dick Turner, political 
 correspondent for the Post, with whom Gregg 
 held an interview on the tin-plate feature of 
 the McKinley bill. Turner was a stuttering, 
 six-foot Irishman, who afterward accom 
 panied Gregg on his speech-making tour dur 
 ing the last month of the campaign. 
 
 Mrs. Baring noticed that two months as a 
 
 public character with a national reputation 
 
 had changed Gregg as much as it would have 
 
 changed a woman. Living an entirely emo- 
 
 226
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 tional life, with no thought of anything save 
 the exercise of his power over the multitude, 
 he had been forced into a sort of artificial 
 bloom. She watched him bow to the pro 
 cession, smile at the passing group cheering 
 for him, and literally thrill with the tumult 
 of the hour. And she saw what had strength 
 ened his carriage, what had put the indefina 
 ble quality one calls bearing into his presence, 
 what had given him something like distinction. 
 But she noticed also that his clothes were 
 hopelessly new, and that he had not yet got 
 control of his cuffs. As Gregg and Turner 
 talked and the mob went swinging by, singing 
 Gregg s name in gospel hymns, throwing flow 
 ers at him, all but worshipping him in their 
 ecstasy, Mrs. Baring wondered if the outward 
 evolution was a sign of inward growth. Later, 
 after Turner s interview was done, Gregg tried 
 to take her into the conversation with McCord. 
 Gregg was also careful and this Mrs. Baring 
 noticed cynically to explain twice why Mrs. 
 Gregg was not present. Once he said she did 
 not care for parades and politics, and once he 
 explained that she was busy putting up fruit 
 and could not get away. While they were 
 talking, a military band from the Soldiers 
 227
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Home stopped in front of the party and ser 
 enaded Gregg. And at the climax of the har 
 mony Mrs. Baring caught Gregg staring at her 
 with a barbaric curiosity that she did not un 
 derstand. The fine exhalation of Mrs. Bar 
 ing s femininity, expressed in the algebraic 
 terms of a well-gowned, well-groomed woman, 
 was soothing Gregg s nerves like a perfumed 
 breath. This much Mrs. Baring knew, that 
 the music delighted him, and that he seemed 
 to be in anguish for some power to release his 
 gratification. 
 
 When Gregg made his speech from the 
 Capitol steps Mrs. Baring could not get rid of 
 the impression that he was an actor in a play, 
 an understudy for some great actor s charac 
 terization of Marat. The spectacle was nerve- 
 racking. The lines were passionate. The act 
 or s business was realistic; but to Mrs. Baring 
 it was always Dan Gregg cast as Marat. After 
 the harangue was finished, while the mob was 
 milling in the State-house yard, Gregg turned 
 to Mrs. Baring and said : 
 
 "Well, madam, don t you think the great 
 plain people have risen by this time ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes indeed," she answered gayly. 
 "There is no doubt of that. Why, do you
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 know that every time I hear a wheel grate 
 on my driveway these days I fear it is Citi 
 zen Gregg, and Citizen McCord, and Citizen 
 George Evans, coming to take me riding in 
 their cart to the guillotine." 
 
 Mrs. Baring laughed with the men and 
 waved Gregg and McCord a pleasant adieu. 
 When they arrived at the hotel, Gregg said: 
 " Say, Mac, what about that Baring woman ? 
 She s a new one on me." 
 
 When McCord had told Gregg all there 
 was to tell, Gregg continued : 
 
 " So that s a female plutocrat, is it ? " And 
 then he added after meditation : " Seems to 
 be kind of domesticated. She is not nearly 
 as ferocious as I supposed. Keally bright 
 woman." Then he grinned broadly as he ex 
 claimed : 
 
 " Say, Mac, now don t you suppose that she 
 has an idea that I go about the country growl 
 ing Fee Fo Fy Fum ! eh ? " 
 
 Coming events must have cast their shadows 
 before Gregg, for he gave the woman more 
 thought that day than he gave the crime of 
 73 ; and he believed that he was considering 
 a type ! 
 
 Gregg had assumed a proclamatory air in 
 
 229
 
 public from the moment that the chairman of 
 the State Convention introduced him as the 
 Abraham Lincoln of the Missouri Valley. 
 AVhenMcCord called Gregg a man of destiny, 
 this proclamatory air began to breathe through 
 his private conversation. He shook his head 
 significantly even in delivering opinions aboiit 
 the weather. On election night he paced the 
 floor in McCord s office at the State Central 
 Committee s head-quarters and for two hours 
 heard, almost without comment, returns which 
 verified McCord s prediction. Gregg looked 
 at the world through squinting eyes. At 
 eleven o clock he rose, and running his fin 
 gers through his hair, said ponderously, so 
 that the reporters might hear : 
 
 "Men, the American people have risen. 
 Revolution, peaceful if it may be, but revolu 
 tion irresistible has begun. There is much 
 work ahead of us all. I am going to bed." 
 
 He tossed his head as he emphasized " I " 
 and stalked out of the room. It seemed to 
 him that he had made an impressive exit. 
 
 The next morning McCord came to Gregg s 
 room carrying an armful of morning papers 
 with Gregg s pictures on the front pages, 
 three columns wide. Gregg, at a mirror, was 
 
 230
 
 hooking up his black ready-made tie. When 
 he looked up from the pictures his eyes were 
 glittering and his cheeks flushed. He faced 
 McCord and said : 
 
 " Mac, what do you suppose all this means ? 
 A year ago I was peddling insurance in a little 
 old grave-yard of a town, a curb-stone broker 
 in defunct hopes. To-day I am elected gov 
 ernor of a commonwealth, with a great popu 
 lar movement at my back." Gregg s voice 
 dropped and he wagged his head as he con 
 tinued : 
 
 " Mac, I have always scoffed at the idea that 
 there is a God, but I may be wrong." His 
 voice deepened as he said : " Do you know, 
 Mac, I d try to pray for light if I wasn t 
 ashamed." 
 
 McCord did not reply, but looked away as 
 a man should at such times. 
 
 " Do you remember, Mac, that felloAv who 
 introduced me to the State Convention as the 
 Abraham Lincoln of the Missouri Valley ? " 
 
 McCord nodded. 
 
 " Lincoln was a failure in life, too, for a 
 
 while, wasn t he ? Well, maybe there is a 
 
 destiny for for for all of us, Mac ? " He 
 
 smiled apologetically as he added : " You 
 
 231
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 know there is a line of Ironquill s, been sing 
 ing in my head all through this thing, and I 
 can t get it out : 
 
 " I am the child of fate, 
 What doth it matter me " 
 
 McCord began gathering up the papers and 
 laughed. 
 
 " "What we both need, I fancy, is a little 
 less manifest destiny on dreams and a little 
 more eggs on toast. Come on to breakfast, 
 Gregg." 
 
 A month later Gregg sat three mortal days 
 in the parlor of his home at Pleasant Ridge, 
 with his feet locked around the legs of the 
 centre-table trying to write his inaugural ad-> 
 dress. It was to be his first public document 
 and he was so impressed that for the life of 
 him he could not get further than, " We are 
 on the verge of a great social and economic 
 crisis. The old order has been swept away." 
 On the morning of the fourth day he sent a 
 telegram asking Dick Turner of the Post to 
 come to Pleasant Ridge. And Dick Turner 
 came to be Gregg s private secretary. Mr. 
 Turner went home, took down his " Bartlett s 
 Quotations " and his " Dictionary of My- 
 232
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 thology," and got up an inaugural address 
 that kept the New York Sun in spirits for 
 nearly a year. The thing reeked with classic 
 allusions and was sticky with the blood of 
 revolution. 
 
 Gregg spent the week before the inaugural 
 event at the capital and took the oath of office 
 wearing a black frock-coat and pearl-gray 
 trousers and a black tie. McCord and Mrs. 
 Baring planned what Mrs. Baring called 
 Gregg s make-up. During the ceremonies 
 Mrs. Baring took charge of Mrs. Gregg. Little, 
 thin, faded, in a new flimsy, shiny black 
 satin, with cheap jet twinkling over the flat 
 front of it, Mrs. Gregg was the pitiful feature 
 of the triumph. Little Danetta Gregg, thirteen 
 years old, gawky, in squeaky shoes, and all 
 legs, a replica of her mother s confusion and 
 embarrassment. While the band was play 
 ing Mrs. Gregg fingered her hat and faltered 
 the explanation to Mrs. Baring that she really 
 wished to get a bonnet, but he didn t like 
 them, because they made her look too old ; 
 she guessed that he liked this hat because it 
 had such a lot of red roses on it. Later, after 
 Mrs. Baring had pointed out the dignitaries 
 in the audience, Mrs. Gregg, who seemed to 
 233
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 be greatly awed, apologized nervously that she 
 supposed she ought to have got her some new 
 teeth, but that she had been putting it off for 
 two years and had just never got around to it. 
 
 The inaugural occasion was worthy of 
 Gregg s best effort. For the whole country 
 was watching in a kind of awed amazement 
 for the dreadful things Dan Gregg would do. 
 Gregg knew this and he used the situation 
 as a dramatic accessory to make his address 
 and the inaugural scene effective. Mrs. Bar 
 ing thought Marat was admirably done. 
 There was a fine repression about the busi 
 ness speaking again theatrically that 
 struck Mrs. Baring as artistic to a high de 
 gree. Yet Gregg s voice repeating the oath 
 of office left a quiver in her nerves. 
 
 After inauguration day, Mrs. Gregg went 
 back to Pleasant Ridge. She said that 
 she and the Governor didn t like to take the 
 children out of school they were doing so 
 well. Gregg did not go to Pleasant Ridge 
 during the winter session of the Legislature, 
 and Mrs. Gregg came up only once. 
 
 By the end of his first week as governor, 
 Gregg had promised, unwittingly, but with 
 much pomp, one office to three candidates, 
 234
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 and was beginning to wear an injured and 
 hunted look. McCord considered Gregg s 
 weakness in duplicating his promises the 
 result of inexperience and cheerfully helped 
 Gregg to straighten out his snarls. But the 
 day that Gregg s first batch of appointments 
 went to the Senate, McCord was as much sur 
 prised as any one at most of them, and 940 
 office-seeking revolutionists went home and 
 made remarks about Gregg that wouldn t 
 circulate in the mails. McCord complained 
 that Gregg had turned the state administra 
 tion into a pasture for war horses of reform ; 
 but Gregg answered that he was only redeem 
 ing his pledges to the people. When Gregg 
 offered to McCord his choice of any office in 
 the State, McCord took insurance commis 
 sioner. He gave up his place in the State 
 University, and devoted himself conscien 
 tiously and effectively to his work. But the 
 other officials whom Gregg had named, forgot 
 the civic ideals that they had put in the 
 patter of their campaign speeches and took 
 the jobs as offices were called in the par 
 lance for the money there was in them. So 
 when grass came the world had forgotten the 
 dreadful things that Governor Gregg was go- 
 
 235
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 ing to do. The Gregg administration settled 
 down to a routine, and Gregg s party papers 
 began to abuse him as party papers have been 
 abusing governors since the world began. 
 Life for Governor Gregg was nearly idyllic. 
 Scarcely a week passed that he did not de 
 liver what he considered an epoch-making 
 speech, and the Cause called him to many 
 States. His picture was taken so many 
 times that he thought that some day the State 
 Historical Society would have to devote an 
 entire room to his photographs. He didn t 
 have time to listen to complaints. Dick 
 Turner was discovering that a good place for 
 State newspapers with articles in them abus 
 ing Gregg, was in the waste-basket. And 
 Gregg was settling down to live happily ever 
 after! 
 
 McCord took Gregg in hand socially. Gov 
 ernors of Western States rarely find them 
 selves in what may be called the best society 
 circles. Society in the West is organized on t 
 of politics. The nearest approach Gregg made 
 to society was when McCord took the Gov 
 ernor, and occasionally Dick Turner, to the 
 dinners which Mrs. Baring was giving to her 
 brother, George Evans, the State Auditor. To 
 236
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 Gregg these events became more and more 
 important, as the cumulative education from 
 them quickened his appreciation. To be a 
 part, even for an hour, of a home where there 
 were books, and the talk of books and music 
 and pictures and beautiful women of a type 
 hitherto undreamed of by Gregg, was as new 
 and as desirable an experience to him as that 
 of wielding power. Before summer closed 
 Gregg began to anticipate his pleasure at 
 Mrs. Baring s dinners for days in advance, 
 and his anticipation came to be epitomized 
 by the mental picture of Mrs. Baring suave, 
 gracious, with laughing, sexless blue eyes, 
 with a plump figure kept well in hand, and 
 with youth preserved, of course, but sweet 
 and full of tang, radiating from her presence. 
 During the winter George Evans gradually 
 dropped out of the dinners and they became 
 council boards. Mrs. Baring joined the 
 councils as a matter of course. Gregg used 
 to save what he considered his brightest epi 
 grams for these dinners, and he always 
 watched for Mrs. Baring s laugh. 
 
 Mrs. Baring got into the habit of dropping 
 into her brother s office in the State-house, a 
 room across the hall from Gregg s office, and 
 237
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 when the Governor saw her coming up the 
 walk leading to the Capitol he used to send 
 Turner to the auditor s office with an invita 
 tion for Mrs. Baring to come over and help 
 them govern. He transacted little business 
 while he was waiting. In the second year of 
 Gregg s term Mrs. Baring always knew that 
 the Governor was out of town when she failed 
 to receive this invitation. 
 
 Dick Turner observed two things early in 
 his service : First, that when Gregg saw the 
 letters which began to flood the office mail, 
 late in the first year of his administration, 
 written by the guardians of patients in the 
 State charitable institutions, complaining of 
 the treatment of their wards, it made Gregg 
 irritable for an entire day ; secondly, that it 
 did not help matters with the wards. So the 
 young man took care of these letters himself. 
 He answered the complaints about the man 
 agement of the asylum for blind children, and 
 about the food at the school for the deaf and 
 dumb children and elsewhere, and letters com 
 plaining of brutalities at the boys reform 
 school, and the insane asylums, and all letters 
 containing what Turner called " kicks," with 
 a form which the stenographers called "No. 
 238
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 18." This form said that the matter had been 
 brought to the notice of the Governor, and 
 that he would give it his immediate personal 
 attention. 
 
 So naturally Gregg knew little of all that 
 was beginning to buzz about him. But he 
 was increasing his statesmanly equipment 
 materially. During his first eighteen months 
 in office he committed to memory many Lin 
 coln stories. He had been cartooned in 
 Judge as a monkey, and had persuaded 
 McCord to have the cartoon reproduced in a 
 campaign circular beside the Civil War car 
 toons of Lincoln as a baboon. He went to 
 school to Dick Turner, learned how to play 
 whist and how to tie his own necktie, and that 
 a dark hat looks well with a light suit. 
 
 But because Gregg was blind with his 
 dream of power, he could not see that the peo 
 ple of his State had returned to reason. The 
 plague that was upon them was lifting. It 
 went as strangely as it came. The death of 
 the mania that bound the people was invisible, 
 like the death of a soul ; yet the passing was 
 real. It left the people sane. That which 
 had stirred them was no longer powerful. 
 The charm words fell on deaf ears ; the hyp- 
 239
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 notic slogans brought forth no response. The 
 fetishes ceased to terrify. The lamps in the 
 school-houses were not lighted. The sound 
 of voices in the night hushed, and the blind 
 ing fanaticism that enveloped the people rose 
 like a cloud of locusts, and men saw things 
 in their true order and in real relations to 
 one another. Heaven, that permitted the pes 
 tilence to rage, knows what brought it, and 
 what took it away. But Gregg, who saw 
 through a glass darkly, thought all the world 
 was mad as he was, and he raved through his 
 second campaign in a fine frenzy. But 
 McCord, who remained chairman of the State 
 Central Committee, felt what he could not de 
 fine, and dared not tell Gregg, that the party 
 was waning. There were crowds, of course, 
 at the meetings ; there was applause after the 
 oratorical climaxes ; there was even talk here 
 and there of new converts in the towns. But 
 the old enthusiasm, the wild, reckless ecstasy 
 was gone. The party organization was more 
 perfect but McCord could not help feeling 
 that it was hope of spoils rather than zeal to 
 bring about the great reformation that was 
 moving the committeemen. They were com- 
 mitteemen, not disciples, who replied to his 
 
 240
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 letters. And the letters seemed to McCord, 
 in spite of their formal encouragement, hand 
 writing on the wall. 
 
 One day, late in October, Gregg came to 
 the office unexpectedly from a speaking tour, 
 aud absent-mindedly began to look over the 
 mail. A letter from a mother complaining 
 that her daughter had died from gross neg 
 lect in the asylum for the blind children, 
 attracted Gregg. The mother s proofs of 
 neglect were terribly convincing and Gregg 
 shuddered, and for a minute sat drumming 
 his fingers on his desk trying to think just 
 how to proceed to relieve the matter without 
 compromising his political friends. But a 
 messenger boy brought a telegram from the 
 New York Recorder, asking for Gregg s opin 
 ion on the Homestead strike. Gregg rose 
 and paced the floor as he dictated this : 
 
 " Three thousand years ago, according to 
 Holy Writ, Tubal Cain forged pruning hooks 
 from spears, ploughshares from swords. To 
 day Capital is running the blacksmith shop 
 and is forging the implements of peace back 
 into weapons of war. The men who bore 
 these implements in the orchard and the 
 furrow, are now drilling with accoutrements 
 241
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 of war behind Carnegie s barricades. Capital 
 has appealed from brain to brawn, from right 
 to might. To-day the barricade is between two 
 armies. To-morrow the barricade will fall and 
 there will be but one army, determined, 
 invulnerable, arrayed against capitalistic op 
 pression. The fires of battle melted the 
 shackles that Lincoln struck from 4,000,000 
 slaves. In the fires of the coming battle 
 some man of destiny will arise and strike 
 the shackles from 50,000,000 white slaves in 
 America. Who that man of destiny will be 
 no one knows ; but Andrew Carnegie is his 
 imperial Caesar, John C. Frick his Herod, 
 and Terence V. Powderly is the voice crying 
 in the wilderness." 
 
 When the stenographer was taking the last 
 sheet from the typewriting machine, Gregg 
 saw Mrs. Baring passing his office door, going 
 to her brother s office. She looked in as he 
 looked up, and they shook hands on the 
 threshold with, " Well, well, so you re back 
 are you," and " Come right in, I ve been 
 wanting to see you all the afternoon." After 
 the little commotion of greeting had sub 
 sided, Gregg dismissed the stenographer and 
 Mrs. Baring found herself sitting in a chair, 
 242
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 protesting : " But I can t stay. I must go," 
 while Gregg, flushed, happy, squared the 
 manuscript of his statement for the New York 
 paper in his hand and returned : " Now you 
 just hold on a minute; I ve got something 
 here I want to read to you. I think it s 
 pretty good." 
 
 Mrs. Baring repeated her protest, laugh 
 ingly, but did not rise. Gregg, gray-clad, 
 olive-skinned, with a mop of coarse black 
 hair, and with the necessary dash of scarlet 
 in his cravat, began to read rather to declaim 
 his article to Mrs. Baring, pacing the rug be 
 fore her, chafing under the lash of his own 
 rhetoric. She was not heeding his words. 
 She was conscious only of the modulations of 
 his mesmeric voice and was following him 
 with an absent stare. 
 
 When he had finished he asked eagerly: 
 " Well, how is it ? " She took the paper from 
 him and read the article through. With her 
 head poised critically on one side she said 
 sedately, " Well, it seems to be a case of 
 Spartacus, and Bienzi and Patrick Henry also 
 ran !" 
 
 They both laughed and Mrs. Baring said : 
 " Don t you mean invincible where you say 
 243
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 invulnerable ? " He nodded approval. He 
 was buoyant, effervescent, irresponsible. As 
 she made the correction he bent over her 
 shoulder, apparently to follow her changes. 
 His coat brushed her arm ; his personality 
 invested her and enveloped her and seemed 
 to smother her. And the thrill that pierced 
 her heart shrivelled the roots of her moral 
 sense. But she looked up at Gregg so coldly 
 that he shivered away in a kind of nervous 
 tremor. He was standing behind her and 
 she could not see his face. He burst forth 
 passionately : " God ! what a mockery life 
 is ! What apples of Sodom is success ! " He 
 put his hands to his head and exclaimed bit 
 terly : " Here I am with the highest office 
 in the land in easy reach of my sane ambi 
 tion chained hopelessly chained bound 
 like a slave to my fetters in Pleasant Kidge. 
 Whatever heights I may reach, I am still 
 that Dan Gregg of Pleasant Ridge hob 
 bled maimed accursed." He wrung his 
 hands and cried, " Oh, for some God to snap 
 the fetters of our yesterdays ! " His face 
 twitched, his lips moved, but made no sound. 
 He sank into a chair and rested his chin in 
 his hands, looking at the lloor. Mrs. Baring 
 244
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 looked blankly at an open window and 
 drummed with the pencil on the table. The 
 affairs of the world moved on outside : The 
 voices of men at work on the State-house 
 lawn, the patter of feet along the tiled corri 
 dors, the tinkle of typewriter bells in ad 
 joining rooms slipped through the stillness of 
 the place. When the clock had marked a 
 long heavy minute, Mrs. Baring rose and 
 said in a listless voice : 
 
 " Well, I must be going." 
 
 She was on her feet before Gregg sighed 
 heavily : 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so." 
 
 When she was gone, he stood for a long 
 time with his hands deep in his trousers 
 pockets and his head bowed. 
 
 The letter from the bereaved mother was 
 answered by " Form No. 18 " unknown to 
 Gregg. He forgot the mother s complaint 
 until one night a week later, when he prom 
 ised himself to take the matter up after elec 
 tion. 
 
 By reason of her social position, Mrs. Bar 
 ing heard much about the Gregg adminis 
 tration that in the nature of things could not 
 come to the Governor nor to McCord. After 
 245
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 the State found that the Gregg revolution was 
 not forthcoming, that capital was not to be 
 declared contraband by proclamation, the 
 more radical revolutionists began to sneer, 
 while those whom he called the plutocrats 
 jeered at Gregg and his work. After Gregg 
 was nominated for a second term, the atti 
 tude of the people, as Mrs. Baring perceived 
 it, began to worry her, and she felt a vague 
 doubt, as the time for the second election 
 drew near, of Gregg s success. She held 
 Gregg s creed in contempt, yet she was bit 
 ten by a hungry ambition to see Gregg win, 
 in spite of his creed even if he won by 
 spreading it. She could not talk to Gregg of 
 her fear of the outcome of the election. She 
 did not care to show her interest to McCord. 
 But there was Turner. One night when Gregg 
 and McCord were out of town campaigning, 
 Turner came alone to the Saturday evening 
 dinner at Mrs. Baring s. At the end of the 
 meal Mrs. Baring had Turner stuttering : 
 
 " The d-difference between the head of th- 
 this administration and its s-several b- 
 branches is f-fundamental. Dan Gregg has 
 his head in the c-clouds, and the others have 
 their f-feet in the trough." 
 24G
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 "Are they making much?" laughed Mrs. 
 Baring. 
 
 " W-well," replied Turner reflectively, " I 
 s-suppose they are. I know one m-nian who 
 p-paid a director of the p-penitentiary as much 
 as f-four dollars and s-seventy-five cents for a 
 c-concession worth a thousand d-dollars, and 
 the b-blamed d-director thought he was m- 
 making a big thing and having a d-devilish 1- 
 liaison." 
 
 " "Why don t you tell the Governor all this, 
 Dick ? " asked Mrs. Baring, after a moment s 
 pause. 
 
 Turner tapped his coffee-cup with his spoon 
 in meditation : " Gregg is a in-mail of d-des- 
 tiny. W-what in th-thunder do you s-sup 
 pose a man of destiny knows about p-pigs in 
 c-clover? If I should t-tell him they were 
 s-serving pork affected with t-t-trichina and 
 c-condemned by the G-government to the 
 children of the b-blind asylum, he d s-s-s-say 
 he was s-sorry and ask me to write a letter and 
 s-stop it, and then he d forget all about it, 
 while he read a new 1-life of Lincoln or p-put a 
 fresh t-twist in the British 1-lion s tail. A 
 m-man of d-destiny has more business than a 
 b-bird pup." 
 
 247
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 " Why don t you try your own hand ? Go 
 in and make a record," suggested his hostess. 
 
 " Y-yes, 1-like the old woman that k-kept 
 tavern in Indiana," replied Turner. "T-t-this 
 administration should t-take out a ch-charter 
 for the m-manufacture of whistles from p- 
 pigs tails. If you were p-president of a rail 
 road how would you g-go at it to g-get a train 
 started, if every m-man from g-general super 
 intendent to w-wiper in the r-round house, 
 held his j-job because he could t-talk on tlio 
 m-money question, or was old p-persimmons 
 on the tariff?" 
 
 As they entered Mrs. Baring s library 
 Turner resumed his discourse: "Th-that 
 fellow McCord is p-pretty s-smart. He s 
 p -practical, all right. But the r-rest are either 
 engaged in p-petty larceny or are busy c-count- 
 ing their t-toes so s they ll know howm-many 
 they ve g-got." 
 
 It is hardly fair to say that there was a bad 
 odor about the Gregg administration. Yet a 
 man with a keen nose for scandal such a 
 nose as McCord had was always sniffing in 
 tangible things in the air. The way a well- 
 known lottery man spoke to the Attorney-Gen 
 eral s clerk on the street, the easy, impudent, 
 248
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 swinging gait of the chief of the oleomargar 
 ine lobby walking into the meeting of the 
 State Board of Charities, the mysterious dis 
 appearance of the carpets in unused legisla 
 tive committee rooms, the surprising increase 
 in the number of lead-pencils and stamps 
 consumed by State officers, the deficit in the 
 Governor s contingent fund, the appearance 
 of diamonds on the shirt front of the secre 
 tary of the railroad commission these and a 
 hundred similar signs of the times worried 
 and harassed and embarrassed McCord. But 
 he could find no substantial basis for the 
 half-formed conjecture that things were out 
 of joint with the administration. He prodded 
 into Gregg s private business affairs in cas 
 ual conversation, and satisfied himself that 
 if irregularities in the State administration 
 existed, the Governor had no conscious part 
 in them. For Gregg spent most of his time 
 speech-making and otherwise promoting what 
 he called the Cause. Shortly before election, 
 when McCord was straining every nerve to 
 get money into the State Committee s treas 
 ury, and just before the final October poll of 
 the State reached him, William Thomas told 
 McCord that a certain Omaha packing-house 
 240
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 could be made to contribute a thousand dol 
 lars. Thomas offered to negotiate the busi 
 ness preliminary to the contribution. In an 
 hour s confidential talk with Thomas, McCord 
 found that the packing-house was furnishing 
 meat to all the State institutions, and in con 
 sequence, that there was what Thomas called 
 " velvet " in it for a group of the State offi 
 cers, and several members of the purchasing 
 committee of the State Board of Charities. 
 The Treasurer s story was told so naively, and 
 so utterly without the consciousness of guilt, 
 that McCord did not rebuke the narrator. 
 When he had finished, McCord s impulse was 
 to lock the door and call a policeman. In 
 stead he offered Thomas a cigar, looked out 
 of the window and said casually : 
 
 " Well, that s pretty good, but where does 
 the Governor come in on the deal ? " An 
 irritated expression twitched Thomas s face 
 as he knocked his pipe in his hand and 
 answered : 
 
 " Oh damn Gregg a man who is running 
 for president and saving the great plain peo 
 ple, has his hands too full to bother with the 
 main chance." When Thomas left the room, 
 McCord sat motionless at his desk for half an 
 250
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 hour, staring at the address on an old envel 
 ope lying before him. Gregg was out of 
 town with campaign engagements for ten 
 days. In those ten days McCord visited a 
 dozen State institutions and came back with 
 a roll of papers in his little green leather 
 bag. At his office, he was confronted by 
 his last poll of the State, showing a discour 
 aging condition of affairs for his party. He 
 recognized that some strong move was neces 
 sary to save even a portion of the ticket. 
 McCord was stumbling in a maze of irritated 
 perplexity. The first day Gregg spent in 
 town after McCord s session with Thomas, 
 McCord started for the Governor s office, car 
 rying the little green leather bag. 
 
 As McCord passed his desk, he picked up 
 a paper in an unfamiliar manila wrapper 
 addressed to him and marked personal. 
 Shucking off the wrapper as he went down 
 the corridor to the elevator, McCord saw that 
 the paper was the Fountain County Palla 
 dium, containing a marked article attacking 
 Gregg viciously. McCord attached no im 
 portance to it. The editor of the Palladium 
 had been promised the railroad commission- 
 ship by Gregg told in fact in the bumptious 
 251
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 mad first days of Gregg s official career that he 
 was an ideal man for railroad commissioner, 
 the very man among a thousand and then 
 offered Fish Warden after Gregg s appoint 
 ments had been made. McCord glanced 
 through the article as he walked, but when 
 he came to this paragraph, he stood in his 
 tracks and read and re-read : 
 
 " Nor is this the worst : No one has seen 
 Dan Gregg with the wife of his youth since 
 he was inaugurated. It is a matter of open 
 and scandalous comment in Hancock and 
 Fountain and adjoining counties in the west 
 ern part of the State, that he lets her live alone 
 with her children at Pleasant Ridge, in a 
 little iiupainted house in the weeds and sun 
 flowers. Dan Gregg has money to bedeck 
 himself in red neckties and tailor-made 
 clothes, but not one penny to improve the 
 God-forsaken place his wife has to call home. 
 He has time to gallivant around the country, 
 making bombastic speeches for his own glory, 
 but he has not found time to cross his door 
 step since Decoration Day. Justice to a de 
 serted wife and her children demands that the 
 people of this State kick this pretentious ras 
 cal back to his duty. For a broken-hearted 
 252
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 wife is the only practical result that has come 
 from the first term of the Gregg administra 
 tion ; a second term can only guarantee to the 
 people the next inevitable step : a divorce, 
 and some seal-skin sack siren to flaunt her 
 infamy under the protection of a legal but 
 none the less scandalous and shameful mar 
 riage." 
 
 McCord relieved himself of a disgusted 
 snort and bolted into the Governor s office. 
 He brushed by Turner and the stenographers 
 and entered Gregg s private room, red-faced 
 and wrathful. As he dropped his green 
 leather bag on a chair, McCord saw a copy of 
 the Fountain County Palladium spread out 
 on the desk. His nervous irritation, the re 
 sult of a month s uncertainty and worry, 
 found voice as he pointed to the open news 
 paper and exclaimed : 
 
 " I want to see you about a lot of things, 
 and that s one of them." Gregg looked 
 up startled, and answered, smiling rather 
 weakly : 
 
 ""Well, what about it?" emphasizing 
 " about." 
 
 And McCord retorted : "Well, what about 
 it ? " jerking his head to emphasize the " what." 
 253
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 " I mean that reference to your family rela 
 tions." 
 
 Gregg s face reflected a groping in his heart 
 for a ready lie as he fumbled with a sentence. 
 McCord checked him, and cried impatiently : 
 
 " Now, Gregg, I want the plain truth about 
 this, and I don t want it varnished either." 
 
 Gregg rested his head on his hand which 
 held his pen. He was silent for a moment, 
 then he grumbled : " I send my wife money 
 all she needs, I guess every month. I 
 write to her regularly. She doesn t like it 
 here I can t get down there much, for you 
 know as well as I do I m busy." Gregg 
 paused. McCord interjected: 
 
 " But Gregg, look here " 
 
 " Well, look here then," impatiently, " if 
 Mrs. Gregg wants to live her way, and I want 
 to live my way, and I let her, and she lets 
 me, whose damn business is it but ours ? " 
 
 McCord answered roughly : " Well, it s my 
 business for one. So long as I am chair 
 man of the State Central Committee, and it s 
 my business to pull you through this election 
 if I can it s my right to know the truth 
 about everything that will influence votes, 
 sir!" 
 
 2-H
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 Gregg put his pen to the paper and began 
 writing as he returned indifferently : 
 
 " Well, I ve told you all I know ; if you 
 want to know more you ll have to go some 
 where else." 
 
 McCord sat patting his foot on the floor, 
 nervously, and looked angrily at the Governor 
 some time before speaking. Finally McCord 
 said : " There are some other things I want 
 to talk to you about too." 
 
 Gregg rose, yawned and stretched, and re 
 plied as he began a tour of the windows of 
 the room : " Well, bang away ! " McCord 
 took a full breath before the plunge and said : 
 " I would like to know what you think of 
 George Evans ? " 
 
 " Why, he s a good enough fellow," re 
 sponded the Governor, gazing out of the win 
 dow, and suddenly identifying a distinguished 
 looking figure in the broad avenue leading to 
 the Capitol as Mrs. Baring. 
 
 " However he s a thief ! " grunted McCord, 
 as his hands fell emphatically on his chair 
 arms. Gregg glanced over his shoulder at 
 McCord an instant and McCord continued : 
 " What do you think of Bill Thomas by this 
 time?" 
 
 255
 
 Gregg s eyes were moving along the asphalt 
 path approaching the State-house as he re 
 plied : " I dunno ; he makes a good enough 
 treasurer, I guess." 
 
 " Probably but he s a thief, too," snapped 
 McCord. " So s your whole board of charities 
 and your penitentiary directors." 
 
 Gregg was watching for a nod of greeting 
 from below and did not answer McCord, who 
 went on abruptly : " About a month ago I 
 heard hints of a scandal at the Soldiers 
 Home. I had been hearing the same thing 
 about the Insane Asylum, and I have felt 
 that something was wrong at the Institu 
 tion for the Blind and at the Penitentiary for 
 six months. I got it out of Bill Thomas ten 
 days ago that he and George Evans and your 
 board of charities and your penitentiary di 
 rectors had made 8,000 in the last six months 
 on a food-supply contract for these institu 
 tions. I ve just visited these institutions and 
 got affidavits from cooks and superintendents 
 to prove that the meat furnished to the State 
 wards is diseased and condemned, and that 
 the other food is impure, adulterated, and often 
 decayed. The death-rate in the State in 
 stitutions has risen twenty per cent, in the 
 256
 
 last eighteen months; this $8,000 is blood- 
 money, sir." 
 
 McCord paused. The stale unconscious 
 smile on Gregg s face when he turned from 
 the window withered into a stupid stare. He 
 moistened his lips and inquired : 
 
 " Do do do the Hep do the other fel 
 lows know it ? " As he spoke he moved to 
 another window where he could tip-toe and 
 see the lower steps leading to the main en 
 trance of the State-house. McCord did not 
 answer but cried impatiently : 
 
 " Does murder interest you, Dan Gregg ? " 
 
 After a moment, Gregg turned from the win 
 dow and repeated his question : " Do the Ke- 
 publicans know it ? Don t you think they re 
 holding it off until two or three days before 
 election ? We must get some fellows to make 
 counter affidavits and spring it now." Gregg 
 strode toward his desk, his eyes blazing, his 
 face alert. He shut McCord off oratorically 
 with : "I ll tell you what we ll do we ll get 
 the World Herald to sa,y that the story leaked 
 from Republican head- quarters, and I ve got a 
 dozen appointees in every institution in the 
 State who ll swear black is white if we need 
 em." 
 
 257
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 "But," McCord expostulated violently, "I 
 tell you it s true ! " 
 
 Gregg was standing near a door openiug 
 into the corridor listening to the passing foot 
 steps. 
 
 " Heavens, man what if it is ! That don t 
 help matters any. We ve got to deny it ! " 
 exclaimed Gregg. 
 
 " Deny ! deny nothing ! You ve got to act ! " 
 
 "To act? How?" this querulously from 
 Gregg. 
 
 " To call stop thief ! To cut yourself loose 
 from this outfit and fire the whole kit and 
 boodle!" 
 
 " When ? " Gregg was still listening to the 
 footsteps passing in the corridor. 
 
 "Now," exploded McCord, slapping his 
 hands together in exasperation. The open 
 ing and closing of the door of George Evans s 
 office across the corridor jarred the silence, 
 during which the meaning of McCord s de 
 mand broke upon Gregg. 
 
 " That that why that would defeat the 
 State ticket," he stammered. 
 
 " No, sir ; it s the only thing on earth that 
 will save it." McCord was puzzled and dis 
 concerted at Gregg s apparent pre-occupation. 
 258
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 McCord felt that he held but half of Gregg s 
 attention, and wondered where the other half 
 was straying. He looked at Gregg a moment, 
 and continued vigorously : " Do you know, 
 sir, that the people are deserting your ticket 
 by the thousands right now ! And unless 
 you show them some strong sign that these 
 scandals in the air are not of your conniv 
 ance, nor even of your tolerance, you and 
 your whole ticket are doomed. You ve got 
 to repudiate and denounce Evans and Thomas, 
 and you ve got to discharge every member of 
 your tainted boards." His voice dropped and 
 he added, conclusively : " It s that or defeat 
 now, Dan Gregg, and it s your next move." 
 McCord took a turn up and down the room, 
 and added : " If you don t publish these affi 
 davits, I feel that I must, and right now, too ! 
 I went into this thing for reform, Dan Gregg, 
 and I don t propose to compromise on mur 
 der even if you do." 
 
 Gregg walked to McCord, and pinioned him 
 with blazing eyes. Gripping his companion 
 by the shoulder, Gregg hissed : " You re a 
 damn traitor." 
 
 McCord brushed Gregg away, saying : 
 " Stuff and nonsense." 
 259
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Gregg, with a part of his consciousness sen 
 tinelled at George Evans s door, flung out a 
 long arm and bony hand and thundered : 
 
 " Listen to me. You ask if murder inter 
 ests Dan Gregg. Do I look like a murderer ? 
 You show me twenty or thirty crazy people 
 and paupers dead of what you say is criminal 
 neglect or poor food. But I can show you a 
 million workmen, tramping the streets of our 
 cities, starving for want of even such food as 
 you complain of." He leaned over and 
 pounded his desk, and McCord s mind s eye 
 kept seeing the words, "the God-forsaken 
 place called home," as Gregg continued : 
 "And yet (thump) you d let these million 
 men starve, and a million women barter their 
 immortal souls for bread that you may give 
 your crazy people fresh porterhouse steak 
 three times a day. Great God ! " 
 
 "Don t be a demagogue with me, sir," 
 sniffed McCord, as he dropped into a chair. 
 
 " A demagogue ? A demagogue ? " shouted 
 Gregg, to the sentinel in the corridor. " He 
 tells Dan Gregg not to be a demagogue ! Is 
 a man a demagogue if he gives ear when a 
 million fellow-creatures are crying in dis- 
 200
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 tress? Whoso putteth his hand to the 
 plough, let him not turn back." McCord, 
 who sat watching Gregg, buffetted by a tem 
 pest of passion, wondered if these were the 
 tactics of a man who was going wrong. Gregg 
 shook his clinched fist and cried : " I tell 
 you, it were better that every ward of this 
 State should rot in his cell, than that our 
 cause should fail at this election. And be 
 fore a just and living God, Jim McCord, I 
 would issue an order to destroy them all if I 
 believed our success demanded it. Don t 
 tempt me to dally with my destiny, man. 
 You say the people are deserting us. I say 
 in two years the whole West, and in four 
 years the whole nation will rally to our 
 cause." Suddenly he dropped his rhetoricals 
 and pleaded : 
 
 " You ain t going to be a fool, are you, 
 Mac ? Now, lookee here." Gregg pulled his 
 chair up to McCord s. " I want to be fair. 
 Just as soon as this election is over, we ll 
 have a little private investigation and get 
 matters straightened up. How s that ? " 
 
 McCord rose as he returned : " No, it won t 
 do. There is a chance that Thomas and 
 Evans may be elected then." When Mc- 
 261
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 Cord reached for his hat, Gregg caught Mc- 
 Cord s arm imploringly and begged : " Think 
 of the poor wronged people, Mac, how they 
 have rallied to us, how they look to us to 
 shield them from oppression. Remember 
 the poor farmers who are being robbed of 
 their homes, Mac, try to pity them as well as 
 your crazy folks. Don t ruin them, Mac, 
 don t, don t!" 
 
 McCord pulled away from Gregg, and re 
 torted : "I hardly think that a State admin 
 istration incapable of handling a thousand 
 State wards without wholesale murder, can 
 give much substantial relief to anyone. But 
 I want to give you one more chance. I am 
 going to leave these affidavits here, and I 
 want you to read them all carefully. If you 
 decide to act on them, all right, but if not 
 well, I don t want to think you are a paste 
 board fake, Dan Gregg." 
 
 McCord laid the roll of affidavits on Gregg s 
 desk, and before the door to Gregg s outer 
 office had closed on McCord, Gregg had a 
 messenger on the way to Mrs. Baring in 
 George Evans s office. In a restless interval 
 of waiting, Gregg called Dick Turner. 
 
 " See here, Dick," said the Governor as 
 2(J2
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 Turner cocked his feet on the gubernatorial 
 desk, "Mac s just been telling me that the 
 grocery houses and packing houses have paid 
 eight or ten thousand dollars for protection 
 for furnishing spoiled groceries and con 
 demned meat to the State institutions. What 
 is there in it ? " 
 
 Turner blew a ring of smoke, and watched 
 it dissolve before answering : " Well, there s 
 s-some blue s-sky, and s-some thin air, and 
 a d-dime s worth of truth in it ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Gregg, fret 
 fully. Turner replied : 
 
 " Wh-when we came in our fellows found 
 that the p-packiug houses and the g-grocers 
 were putting up to the opposition. It was 
 either t-take that money for our committee or 
 g-give the other f-f-fellows s-siuews of war. 
 So we d-d-de-horned the dilemma. Mac is 
 such a p-perfect 1-lady that the fellows thought 
 he might be sh-shocked at the t-transaction. 
 So Bill Thomas and George Evans, and three 
 or f-four fellows on the boards p-put the 
 money into the committee as p-private con 
 tributions." 
 
 Turner puffed at his pipe before adding : 
 " As f-far as his t-talk about the s-supplies 
 2(53
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 being b-bad is concerned I don t understand 
 that even the m-miracle of the 1-loaves and 
 f-fishes was a p-pure food show. The m-mul- 
 titude was hungry and t-took what it could 
 g-get." 
 
 Gregg persisted petulantly : " I know, Dick, 
 but here s a lot of affidavits McCord s got up 
 to prove the food is rotten and is increasing 
 the death-rate. We can t stand that you, 
 know, Dick ; that s practically murder ! " 
 
 Turner walked the floor with one hand in 
 his coat pocket. " You b-bet," he rejoined, 
 " the p-p-professor has figured it all out. It s 
 m-m-murder, Governor ; James McCord s a 
 g-good man, and I l-love him, but give him a 
 p-pencil and paper and a c-c-column of s-sta- 
 tistics, and he b-becomes a raging Abyssinian 
 lion. You know I have a th-theory that when 
 the devil fails to make a point any other 
 w-way he re-resorts to statistics." 
 
 Turner broke the silence by asking : 
 "What s Mac s idea? Wh-what does he 
 want you to d-do ? " 
 
 " O, Lord ! Of course I can t do what he 
 wants me to do, but I ought to do something, 
 Dick. He wants me to fire everyone con 
 nected with the the transac the arrange- 
 2G4
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 merit, and denounce Evans and Thomas and 
 appeal to the people. What shall I do, Dick ? 
 What shall I do?" 
 
 Turner grinned as he replied : " Well, he 
 d-doesn t w-want much." 
 
 " No, and he s got a stack of affidavits from 
 cooks and superintendents in the various in 
 stitutions, and if I don t do as he asks he s 
 going to print them ! " Turner whistled. 
 Gregg proceeded : " Dick, it seems to me 
 one of two things : either do what Mac wants 
 me to do or stand by friends on the State 
 ticket. What shall I do, Dick what shall I 
 do ? " While Turner was filling his pipe and 
 considering the matter, Gregg walked to an 
 ante-room and called to a boy : " Did you 
 deliver my message a little bit ago ? " He 
 came back to Turner and went on : " The 
 people are with me, Dick, stronger and surer 
 than ever ; and I can t afford to risk their in 
 terests in this election, and Jim McCord can t 
 make me ! What do you think? " 
 
 " Are t-those his affidavits," asked Turner, 
 pointing to the package in Gregg s hand. 
 Gregg nodded. " D-do you w-want to know 
 what I d d-do ? " Again Gregg assented. 
 " Well, th-these are his high cards. He 
 265
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 c-can t bluff on a d-deuce, c-can he ? " Gregg 
 looked puzzled. " Well, it s this way. You 
 c-can f-find your own excuse for k-keeping 
 them, but if you g-give those p-papers back, 
 you re a d-damn f-fool." 
 
 " Well, that s easy enough to say ; but what 
 would you tell him when he asks for them ? " 
 grumbled Gregg. Turner grinned broadly and 
 looked from the smouldering fire in the grate 
 to the papers and back to the fire again, and 
 stuttered : " W-well, you m-might t-tell him 
 that the n-nights were g-gettiug chilly and 
 you n-need more fire." 
 
 Turner s insinuating temptation stuck in 
 Gregg s consciousness like a thorn. He 
 picked up the roll of affidavits and handled 
 them as a thief toys with his plunder. Then 
 Gregg heard a door across the corridor open 
 and shut. He rose, still dallying with the 
 affidavits and crossed the room, saying, " Yes, 
 but what do you suppose Mac would 
 
 " Well, there s one thing c-certain," laughed 
 Turner, "he w-wouldn t d-do y-you ! " 
 
 An instant afterward Gregg had the door 
 
 open for Mrs. Baring. Turner, who rose to 
 
 greet her, did not sit down again, but hurried 
 
 out almost precipitately, Mrs. Buring 
 
 266
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 thought. She wondered self-consciously, if 
 Turner knew that the Governor had sent for 
 her. Mrs. Baring noticed the Governor s dis 
 hevelled hair, and the shimmer in his eyes. 
 She tried nervously to make trivial conversa 
 tion, but Gregg burst the darn of convention 
 with : 
 
 " What do I care for the weather or the 
 rain or the campaign ! I sent for you because 
 I want you because I need you ; because I 
 am in trouble, and I have no God that I can 
 pray to, so I turn to you ! " 
 
 She saw a tide of emotion rising in Gregg ; 
 she was fascinated by the power and grip of 
 the flood. It seemed artificial a stage effect ; 
 but Gregg came to her and fixed her gaze as 
 he cried : 
 
 " For God s sake, don t you desert me ! 
 They all mock me but you you and destiny! 
 You two beckon me you two inspire me ! " 
 As the emotion rose in Gregg, Mrs. Baring 
 felt her poise and balance totter. " I sent for 
 you because I have so many things to say 
 things that I wanted to say before and could 
 not. Maybe I can t now, but you must un 
 derstand anyhow ! I want your help. I 
 need your advice. I ve reached a great crisis. 
 267
 
 STEATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 My cause is in danger and all my future is 
 jeopardized." Gregg held her gaze for a mo 
 ment with a brooding eye and went on : "If 
 I win at this election it means that I may 
 some day be President of these United States. 
 For if our party proves itself stable and our 
 ideas prove themselves worthy of re-indorse 
 ment at this election, it means that the coun 
 try is ready to realize the ideal which we 
 proclaim. But if we fail here and now 
 and Gregg flung his arms with an impatient 
 gesture, and glowered from the papers in his 
 hand to the fire in the grate, and then took 
 up his discourse abruptly " And in the face 
 of all this Jim McCord is going back on me." 
 
 Mrs. Baring, who was contemplating him 
 with her chin in her hand, exclaimed : " Oh, 
 no!" 
 
 " Well, he is," persisted Gregg. " He 
 wants me, right on the eve of this election, 
 to come out and denounce your brother and 
 Treasurer Thomas for irregularities in the 
 food-supply contracts. And ho wants me to 
 discharge most of the members of my State 
 boards. He s not satisfied with my promise 
 to investigate this business after election ; 
 but he insists on resigning his chairmanship 
 208
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 to-morrow and publishing these affidavits 
 against these men, and Gregg flourished the 
 papers viciously, " if I don t do exactly as he 
 says. These affidavits, whether they are true 
 or false, coming out just at this time are 
 enough to beat us. But Mac won t listen to 
 my way. It s rule or ruin with him." 
 
 Gregg twisted the affidavits a moment in 
 both hands, and struck the desk with the pa 
 pers furiously and broke out : " What does 
 Jim McCord know about this movement ? A 
 little poll book, and a paper and pencil, and 
 a kind of buttered-toast conscience, and 
 you ve got him. But I ll show this chicken- 
 broth statesman that Dan Gregg don t cringe 
 for no hair-splitting, scandal-peddling, short- 
 haired old maid. Let him bring on his scan 
 dals. Let him unlock his school-house full 
 of bogies and let hell out for noon. He can t 
 scare Dan Gregg," and in the palsy of passion 
 that shook him, the papers in his outstretched 
 hand rustled like leaves on a blighted tree ; 
 and Mrs. Baring, tip-toeing in the lifting tide 
 of Gregg s emotion, clung to the edge of the 
 desk in front of her until her finger-nails 
 showed white. " Not with your face and my 
 destiny smiling at me." 
 209
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 His tone deepened and the shimmer in his 
 eyes glowed into a blaze as he went on : "I 
 told yon I was chained to my environment. 
 I told you I was bound to a rock, gnawed by 
 the vultures of my past. I told you that I 
 was fettered to my old self." Crushing the 
 papers in his hand, Gregg leaned toward Mrs. 
 Baring, whose face was blanching and who 
 scarcely breathed as he proceeded : " But I am 
 not. I lied. I m a child of fate, what doth it 
 matter to me. I am going to break my chains. 
 Do you understand ? snap them and rise and 
 walk with the destiny that I know is waiting 
 me. And I am going to begin right now." 
 
 The emotional tide swept over Mrs. Baring, 
 but the last thing that she saw was Gregg 
 flinging McCord s affidavits on the smoulder 
 ing fire. Gregg watched them smoke and un 
 curl and grow brown as he said : " I am young 
 yet. I am strong enough to overcome any 
 thing that God, man, or devil may put before 
 me. If only just one thing happens if you 
 if you don t hate me. If you respect me if 
 you stand by me," Gregg s eyes followed the 
 little teeth of fire which were nibbling at the 
 corners of the crumpled papers. " McCord 
 won t he s a jelly man. He was pulling his 
 270
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 milk and sugar morality to-day. But you 
 will stand by me you are brave you are 
 iron my God, you are iron. I know it, and 
 what do I care for Jim McCord and his affi 
 davits." He continued hoarsely: "Jim Mc 
 Cord arches his back up to my leg and purrs 
 and sings the old tabby about my duty! 
 about my duty down in Pleasant Ridge." 
 A little wing of flame flickered among the pa 
 pers and Gregg clutched Mrs. Baring s arm. 
 " Does Jim McCord jump in the creek and 
 drown himself just because a lot of his litter 
 were drowned before they got their eyes open ? 
 My eyes are open. I see my higher duty to 
 my people, to my race, and to my God if 
 there is one. But I wanted to tell you first 
 to know that you agreed ; to know that 
 
 you- 
 
 Mrs. Baring got to her feet in spite of 
 Gregg s tightening grasp. She tried to speak, 
 but she was checked by the sound of footfalls 
 approaching the corridor door. In another 
 instant a hand was at the door knob. Mrs. 
 Baring whirled about toward a window. Gregg 
 clumsy, man- wise faced McCord and Mrs. 
 Gregg, who were standing in the doorway. 
 The Governor was still leaning toward Mrs. 
 271
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Baring. He relaxed after Mrs. Gregg and 
 McCord entered. McCord saw Gregg s quak 
 ing hand and his suffused face. Then he saw 
 Mrs. Baring s back. Mrs. Gregg noticed 
 nothing. Mrs. Baring turned and met Mc- 
 Cord s eyes and saw whom he had brought 
 in, as he was saying gently : 
 
 " Here he is, Mrs. Gregg ; I knew we d find 
 them here." 
 
 A sudden mounting blaze in the grate at 
 tracted McCord s attention. He recognized 
 his affidavits in the burning papers and stood 
 astounded. Then in an impulse of blind 
 rage, he seized the poker in a vain effort to 
 rescue the burning papers. Ho looked up 
 and met the eyes of Gregg and Mrs. Baring. 
 For a moment his rage craved a physical re 
 lief. He ached to hit Gregg. But instead ho 
 had to listen to Mrs. Gregg s voice, which 
 gnawed at his nerves like a corroding poison, 
 saying : 
 
 " Dan l, I seen that piece in the Palladium 
 yesterday ; somebody sent it to me. I don t 
 know what it means, but I thought I d best 
 get on the cars and come right to you." Her 
 voice was dull, miserable, expressionless. She 
 continued : " I thought you d need me. For
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 I didn t sleep a wink all last night, and I 
 haven t had the heart to take a bite to eat. I 
 just thought I d come right up." The pitiful 
 attitude of the wife, the dead monotonous 
 tone of her voice, touched McCord, until Gregg 
 answered : 
 
 " Oh, that s all right that s all right don t 
 be foolish ; it s all in the game of politics. If 
 I was you I d not lose any sleep about any 
 thing you see in the newspapers about me." 
 Gregg let his irritation rasp his voice. His 
 wife went up to him and said : 
 
 " Why, Pa ! " 
 
 And then she added : "Now, Pa, you just 
 ask Mrs. Baring what she d a done in my 
 place." Mrs. Gregg turned to Mrs. Baring 
 who had been a mute, puzzled spectator, and 
 said : " He lays such great store by every 
 thing you say and do, and I want you to just 
 read this piece the piece marked there, and 
 see if it ain t enough to make me worry." 
 She handed the folded paper to Mrs. Baring. 
 McCord, still wrestling with his demon of 
 wrath, sought the secret of Mrs. Baring s 
 perturbed and horrified face as she read. 
 Gregg also was watching her face, and Mc 
 Cord saw Gregg s jaw drop and his eyes 
 
 273
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 show terrified white eyeballs, but Mrs. 
 Gregg babbled on : 
 
 " I ve been a hard-working woman all my 
 life, and I don t see what the papers want to 
 print a lot of stuff like that for about us. 
 Pore Danetta she cried too, and just wanted 
 to set right down and write to the editor, but 
 I told her that wasn t no use." She wiped 
 away a straggling tear with her knuckle. 
 " But I sh d think they d know maybe chil 
 dren had some natural feelings before print 
 ing such tilings." She was still running on 
 drearily when Mrs. Baring finished the para 
 graph and lifted her dazed and worried eyes 
 to the tableau about her. She saw Gregg 
 first a frightened animal leaning against a 
 wall, with a strange and to Mrs. Baring 
 new weakness in his limp features. He was 
 moistening his lips in a disgustingly animal 
 way, and Mrs. Baring s eyes revolted from 
 him and met the repressed fury gleaming like 
 a masked battery behind McCord s curious, 
 cynical gaze. She saw Mrs. Gregg in her 
 skimp, weather-stained, black alpaca, her 
 little cheap, dusty, black straw hat, with its 
 scant home-made bow of black ribbon ; Mrs. 
 Baring saw the tremble in Mrs. Gregg s toil- 
 274
 
 stained hand trying vainly to tuck in the 
 straggly ends of hair around her face. The 
 surcharged atmosphere of the room was be 
 ginning to affect Mrs. Gregg. She felt for 
 lorn and friendless in it. She closed her 
 monologue with a question to Mrs. Baring : 
 " Wasn t I right to come up here, Mrs. Bar 
 ing ? I says to Nettie, well, it s my duty to 
 be with your pa in this crisis ; so I come. I 
 don t see why I shouldn t, do you ? " 
 
 Mrs. Baring was speechless for a moment ; 
 her lips seemed stiff and lifeless. She felt a 
 tremor within her that was spreading to every 
 muscle in her body. But she rallied her will 
 and replied : 
 
 " I think you did exactly right, Mrs. 
 Gregg." 
 
 Then McCord turned to Mrs. Baring, who 
 was moving toward the door, and said : 
 
 "Shall we go now?" 
 
 As she turned to leave, Mrs. Baring saw 
 Gregg still leaning against the wall, with his 
 head dropped between stooping shoulders 
 looking after her furtively. He had reverted 
 to his caste. It was the closest glimpse Mrs. 
 Baring ever had of the man they knew in 
 Pleasant Ridge. A sickening revulsion fol- 
 275
 
 STBATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 lowed her in the silent walk with McCord 
 down the cool dark corridor. At the door 
 she said : 
 
 " Thank you, James, you needn t go any 
 further." And she walked wearily away, look 
 ing at the ground, which was unusual for Mrs. 
 Baring. 
 
 Gregg sent his wife home to Pleasant Ridge, 
 and plunged into the last week of his cam 
 paign with a vigor that surprised his parti 
 sans. They did not know that his activity 
 was a counter-irritant for the wound his van 
 ity had received in the room with McCord 
 and Mrs. Baring. Gregg essayed his old role 
 on the stump. He stormed and strutted upon 
 the platform ; he played with the modulations 
 of his resonant voice ; he coined nipping epi 
 grams, but even his most effective business 
 was unsatisfactory. For the irresponsible 
 state the self-hypnosis, which changed hini 
 and gave him his hypnotic power would not 
 come. Instead, sleeping or waking, speaking 
 or as he rode over the plains between his 
 meetings, the rankle of the festering wound 
 in his pride came to his consciousness and 
 held him on a rack. In the meantime, Tur 
 ner wondered much what McCord thought of 
 276
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 Gregg s burning the affidavits. The day 
 before election Turner overhauled McCor-d 
 and asked him squarely how matters stood 
 between him and Gregg. McCord answered 
 reflectively : 
 
 " Well, Dick, this time last week I was 
 pretty hot under the collar. I think I was 
 almost as mad as a man generally gets when 
 I saw what he d done. Any man would be. 
 But one day last week Gregg came to my of 
 fice and began patronizing me jauntily, and 
 told me that my intentions were all right, but 
 that I was not practical. The fellow is so 
 eaten up with mad vanity, Dick, and he stood 
 around bragging about his hold on the people 
 and his higher duty as their leader, that I 
 couldn t help pitying him dreadin what 
 I ve got to watch, the color-sergeant said. 
 The poor devil, I let him talk on and went 
 about my business." 
 
 About nine o clock on election day Gregg 
 gave out a confident statement to the report 
 ers for the afternoon papers. He had forgot 
 ten to register and his vote at Pleasant Kidge 
 was lost. So he sat in his office that morn 
 ing, tilted in his chair with his head hanging 
 back in a basket made with his big bony 
 277
 
 STRATAGEMS AXD SPOILS 
 
 hands. It did not occur to him to speculate 
 about his election any more than about the 
 sunrise. He was repeating over and over in 
 a whisper: "I am the child of fate, what doth 
 it matter me." Then, as a man drifts illogi- 
 cally in a dream from one train of fancy to 
 another, Gregg kept saying to himself : " A 
 new man in 96. A new man in 96." 
 
 His eyes burned and his hair was a-tumble 
 when the boy brought the morning mail with 
 the Omaha papers in it. Glancing over the 
 Bee, Gregg saw a New York Post interview 
 with Senator Felt of a New England State on 
 the National political outlook. Gregg s party 
 and Felt s were fusing in Gregg s election 
 and naturally Gregg coveted Felt s good-will. 
 Half way down the column Felt was discuss 
 ing Missouri Valley politics, and Gregg caught 
 these words : 
 
 " Two years ago there rose out of the sage 
 brush one Dan Gregg, a kind of political wild 
 man of Borneo. He was elected Governor of 
 his State and for a few months threatened to 
 figure in National politics. He seems to have 
 been a combination of Robespierre, Webster, 
 and Herr Most. He was the product of a 
 fanaticism. I speak of him in the past. He 
 278
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 has effervesced. His people have become 
 sane again. He is passing to that political 
 bourne from which no traveller e er returns. 
 His defeat for re-election is conceded. And 
 as he is weak, vacillating, and erratic, he will 
 have no personal force to regain his power 
 when once it passes from him." 
 
 When Gregg finished reading it his heart 
 was thumping on his ribs and his hands were 
 clinched. For the first time he saw the bub 
 ble he had blown and cherished endangered. 
 His reason fluttered to the border of hysteria. 
 It was an hour before his mind s eye could 
 look at the burning bruise of doubt on his 
 destiny which Felt s blow had brought. As 
 his soul reeled slowly in and quickly out of 
 poise, time and again, the shadow of Dan 
 Gregg, the town infidel of Pleasant Ridge, of 
 Dan Gregg, the dreamer, of Dan Gregg, the 
 practical politician, kept blurring the shadow 
 of Dan Gregg, the "child of fate" that fell on 
 the white paper before him which he was cov 
 ering with large O s and sentences and parts 
 of sentences like this : " For the people, by 
 the people, of the people- A. Lincoln," 
 " Equal rights to all, special privileges to none 
 -D. Gregg." 
 
 279
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 At one o clock Turner found Gregg nervous 
 and haggard, sitting at his desk, gazing at 
 nothing. His first words were : " Dick, she s 
 all right, ain t she? Everything s coming our 
 way, isn t it ? " 
 
 Turner felt Gregg s mood and answered : 
 
 " Oh, y-yes, don t w-w-worry. It ll be all 
 r-right, I g-guess." 
 
 Gregg jumped to his feet and exclaimed in 
 an uncontrolled voice : " You guess ! Why, 
 man, don t you know ? Don t you know ? 
 Don t you know ? " 
 
 He walked up and down the room and ha 
 rangued Turner : " I ve been a friend of the 
 people. I ve sacrificed all for them. I ve 
 suffered, I ve borne taunts. I ve put aside 
 temptations for them. The people won t 
 desert me now, will they, Dick ? not, 
 now ! " 
 
 Turner soothed Gregg, but it took time 
 and much diplomacy. Gregg couldn t eat his 
 lunch, and he and Turner walked away most 
 of the bright November afternoon, Turner 
 making much talk about religion, philosophy, 
 literature, finance, history, and spiritualism 
 anything to keep Gregg s mind from the elec 
 tion. When they came back to the State- 
 280
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 house and Gregg went into his private office, 
 Turner said to McCord : 
 
 " Professor, you ve g-got to be a f-first aid 
 to the w-wounded with me t-to-night, I can t 
 g-go through th-that scene alone. And I g- 
 guess it will be j-just as w-well if we sh-shake 
 the reporters to-night. You d better c-come 
 around with me to his room and hear the r- 
 returns to-night." McCord dropped his eyes, 
 shook his head, and, as he turned into the 
 threshold, said : "Well, I suppose I ve got to 
 stand it in the interests of humanity." 
 
 The first bulletin came in at half -past eight 
 that night. It was from New York. In read 
 ing it McCord got no further than: "Ketums 
 from ten precincts in Kings County indicate 
 " when Gregg broke in : " Oh, to hell with 
 New York, Mac is there anything from the 
 State?" 
 
 It was nine o clock before the first message 
 came that interested Gregg. It was from the 
 Alliance chairman in Grant County, which 
 had given 500 majority to Gregg two years 
 before. His message ran thus : " Local fight 
 here ; returns indicate will carry county for 
 Gregg by small majority ; lose county ticket." 
 Half an hour later a telegram arrived from 
 281
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 Burns County, the county which took the 
 Alliance banner for the largest majority for 
 Gregg in 1890. McCord read it: "Will 
 carry most of county ticket." Before Gregg, 
 who was lying on a bed in an adjoining room 
 could comment on the news from Burns 
 County, Turner gave McCord another mes 
 sage from a doubtful county : " Town vote 
 looks bad for State ticket. County officers 
 in doubt." As McCord looked up from the 
 yellow slip of paper, he saw Gregg in his 
 shirt sleeves standing in the doorway. " Say, 
 Mac," he whined, " why didn t you look 
 after those counties ? Can we afford to lose 
 them do you think ? " McCord did not re 
 ply. He handed Gregg another message con 
 taining bad news. Gregg grew pale and ex 
 claimed : 
 
 " My God, man what have you been doing 
 this summer?" Turner, who had read the 
 message over McCord s shoulder, chirped 
 
 gayly: 
 
 " He seems to have been holding a p-post 
 m-mortem! " The smile that followed saved 
 a scene. McCord replied : " Well, a bad 
 beginning makes a good ending." 
 
 It was ten o clock before the messenger 
 282
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 in with a new bundle of bulletins. They 
 indicated that Gregg was holding his own in 
 certain small counties, but was losing where 
 he should have gained, and was gaining no 
 where. The three men read these together 
 in silence. Gregg glared at McCord, who let 
 his hands fall with a heavy finality upon his 
 chair arm. 
 
 " It can t be true ! It can t be true ! " cried 
 Gregg. " My God, man, it can t be true ! 
 Why we are beat ! I tell you, we re beat ! " 
 he cried out passionately arid dropped his 
 voice as he added : " If these things are true ! 
 Say, Mac, don t you suppose the infernal 
 Western Union is putting this thing up oil 
 us ? to cheat us ? " 
 
 McCord did not reply. He was calculat 
 ing how much Gregg could lose and still win. 
 The Governor took up his plaint : " Mac, why 
 in Heaven s name don t you do something ! 
 Don t sit there like a bump on a log, and let 
 the Western Union cheat us ! For God s 
 sake, Mac, get up and do something ! " 
 
 " But what can I do ? " protested McCord. 
 
 " Do ? do ? " cried Gregg. " Issue a procla 
 mation. Get out on the street and brand 
 them for the robbers that they are ! " Turner 
 283
 
 and McCord exchanged glances. Turner con 
 veyed by a head-shake the fact that McCord 
 must break the truth. 
 
 "Dan Gregg," returned McCord, " Look 
 here ! Stop that whimpering and be a man. 
 Either we ve licked them or they ve licked us, 
 and neither event should find us howling like 
 motherless pups." Gregg looked at McCord 
 aghast for nearly half a minute, and no one 
 broke the silence. Gregg tried to grip him 
 self but his voice squeaked : 
 
 "Mac, you you you you don t know 
 what it means to me. You don t you don t 
 think they they can beat us, can they ? " Ho 
 got his voice and asked wildly : " Where s 
 your poll-book ? Show me your damn poll- 
 book. It says we ll win." 
 
 But he did not reach for the poll-book on 
 the table. Instead he paced through the two 
 rooms from corner to corner, throwing his 
 arms and moving his lips but uttering no word. 
 During the half-hour he strode thus two 
 other bulletins came, but as McCord scanned 
 each message he answered Gregg s pathetic, 
 appealing glance with a solemn face, and 
 Gregg finally sat down by the table with his 
 elbows on his knees, and his hands in his hair, 
 284
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 his face downward. Occasionally he sighed 
 heavily. Turner and McCord were making a 
 chart. At eleven o clock bulletins were com 
 ing in rapidly. But none was encouraging. 
 Gregg did not look at them. Once he lifted 
 his head and asked : " Well ? " 
 
 "Nothing you care for, Dan," answered 
 McCord. Turner wrote on a piece of paper 
 "Landslide," and pushed it toward McCord, 
 who nodded affirmatively. " Tell him " 
 pantomined Turner. " All right," responded 
 McCord. But not until a fresh lot of bulletins 
 came and were pasted on the chart, and still 
 another, when it was past midnight, did 
 McCord speak. Then he said gently : 
 
 "Dan, look up here." McCord s words 
 startled the governor, whose frame seemed to 
 shudder back into the world. His wild eyes 
 came above the level of the table-board, red 
 and rabid-looking, with animal fear in them. 
 McCord put a kind hand on Gregg s 
 shoulder and continued : 
 
 " It seems to me now, Dan, that our little 
 show is over. I wouldn t mind it, Dan. 
 We ve done our best. We ve played our 
 parts. But the tents are down or will be 
 soon and whatever our mission in the world 
 285
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 was to be, has been performed. God has 
 granted us a king s ex, I guess, Dan." 
 
 Gregg rose. He snapped his suspenders, 
 laughed the old strident, cross-cut laugh that 
 had been suppressed since he left Main Street 
 in Pleasant Ptidge. It was a horrible noise. 
 Then he cried in a broken voice : 
 
 "He still thinks there s a God!" and 
 screamed with laughter again. Neither Mc- 
 Cord nor Turner had ever heard that laugh 
 before. Gregg strode up and down the room 
 babbling : " He thinks there s a God, and his 
 very excellent Wall Street God is going to 
 deliver 50,000,000 people to slavery to the 
 money but a God s a God for a that, and 
 this spectacled professor here, he ll kiss the 
 chastening rod," and the crazy laugh ripped 
 in here " for he thinks there s a God." 
 
 McCord answered : " Shut up your hys 
 terics, Gregg." Gregg stared reproachfully 
 at McCord and Turner for a moment before 
 he turned and went into the adjoining room. 
 The two men heard him throw himself on the 
 bed and break into a paroxysm of weeping 
 like a spoiled child. Turner said softly : 
 
 "It s hell!" 
 
 " Yes," answered McCord in a hushed voice. 
 28(i
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 " Yes, I believe that is exactly what I think 
 hell is, Dick." 
 
 Some bulletins came in. McCord did not 
 unfold them. " I suppose he blames the 
 people," he continued in the same low tone. 
 Turner nodded. McCord went on : " He f or* 
 gets that the world moves slowly. That the 
 same people are here now that were here two 
 and four years ago, and voting a reform ticket 
 doesn t make these people perfect. You 
 know, Dick, you can t help the world muck 
 by voting your neighbor better. The way to 
 help is to be better, more unselfish, kinder, 
 and broader-gauged yourself." 
 
 Gregg s spasm of anguish was abating. 
 McCord tip- toed to the door and looked in. 
 He saw Gregg with the pillows over his head. 
 
 " Yes, I know," replied Turner meditatively 
 with his voice still repressed. " But you 
 s-see the old m-man he had this idea : that 
 he c-could sit d-down and t-toss off a few 
 p-proclamations and impale a few 1-legisla- 
 tures on his oratory and c-coax the c-coy mil 
 lennium out of the r-roseate f-future and put 
 s-salt on its t-tail." 
 
 McCord smiled sadly. He gathered up his 
 chart and whispered : " I ve got to see some 
 287
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 of the newspaper boys down stairs and tell 
 them some story about Gregg. You stay here 
 till I get back." 
 
 Turner busied himself looking over the new 
 bulletins. He heard Gregg moving about 
 in the adjoining room. A bureau drawer 
 opened. Turner kept his eyes on the papers 
 before him and did not see Gregg, shaking 
 with an ague of fear, take a revolver from a 
 drawer. Turner did not see Gregg look in 
 the barrel, and then suddenly jerk it out of 
 range. But when he had done this the third 
 time, and was about to put down the weapon 
 and scream in a frenzy, Turner caught the 
 glint of the nickelled barrel in a mirror. In 
 a moment he had wrenched the thing from 
 Gregg s limp hands. In another instant Turner 
 had tripped Gregg and had thrown him on the 
 bed, and was sitting on him. Gregg began 
 to sob. Here McCord found them, Gregg 
 whimpering and begging Turner to let him 
 die. 
 
 Turner answered McCord s bewilderment 
 with : " I found him playing with the p-pepper 
 box, which, I believe, is a-a-agaiust the r-rules 
 of the g-game." 
 
 Now, in Pleasant Ridge these things are 
 
 288
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 unknown. There they point him out, Dan 
 Gregg, the man who Has Been. He does not 
 shine, even in a faded glory. He has never 
 been admitted to the circle of the town s aris 
 tocracy. He is still an outcast, and he has 
 worn his black Prince Albert coat until the 
 metal buttons are threadbare and the winds 
 of many droughts have turned it greenish- 
 brown. One may see him travelling homeward 
 any fair evening in the sunset, carrying his 
 yellow parcel of beefsteak, stumbling along 
 the rough path that leads through the dead 
 weeds an oldish man, bent at the hips like 
 a jack-knife, casting a crooked shadow as he 
 goes. 
 
 The day Gregg left the capital this edito 
 rial appeared in the State Journal. The edi 
 torial is a part of this narrative only because 
 it contains that last serious reference to Gregg 
 ever made by a newspaper in his State. The 
 article is appended here for what it is worth. 
 The editorial was headed " A Most Lament 
 able Comedy," and it ran thus : 
 
 "Reform must come from the individual. 
 It is a matter of slow growth. It is not ac 
 complished by enactment or resolution. When 
 289
 
 STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 
 
 the members of a considerable majority of the 
 people of any neighborhood, any municipal 
 ity, any State or any nation, see a truth clearly 
 enough to make it a part of their rules of con 
 duct, that community is reformed. After that 
 the legal enactment comes, making sentiment 
 of the majority law for the unenlightened 
 minority. Sometimes in history a strong 
 titanic character arises in a land who, by sheer 
 force of will and a powerful example, drags 
 the world about him along toward the light. 
 But reform is still a matter of character 
 either of the individuals in the mass or in 
 some strong individual out of the mass. No 
 reform can be accomplished, no lasting good 
 may result from a wave of emotion which has 
 jealousy of the poor for the rich and envy of 
 the strong for the weak for its impulse. 
 
 " The failure of the Gregg administration 
 was decreed in the beginning. Men of 
 Gregg s type have ever failed and must always 
 fail. The wave of emotion rises and falls, but 
 does not move forward. Men who move the 
 world must move it by their righteousness, 
 and if they are fanatic in spite of their 
 fanaticism, which is prima facie evidence of 
 weakness. Weakness breeds weakness. The 
 290
 
 A MOST LAMENTABLE COMEDY 
 
 stream cannot rise above the level of its 
 source, and the world will not be made better 
 by a man, by a doctrine, nor a movement too 
 weak to conquer its own bigotry. The 
 pathetic disappointment of an earnest but 
 deluded people takes the miserable perform 
 ance of the Gregg administration out of the 
 list of farces. Yet it was certainly " a most 
 lamentable comedy." 
 
 291
 
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