A Gentleman from Mississippi - Thomas A. Wise
Hope Georgia, by the same token, did not escape the attention of the
interviewer. Her appealing charm of face and figure was accentuated
by her daintiness and a fleeting suggestion of naivete in poise and
expression when she was amused. His first glance revealed to Haines
that her eyes were gray, the gray that people say indicates the
possessor to have those priceless qualities--the qualities that make
the sweetest women true, that make the maiden's eyes in truth the
windows of her soul, the qualities that make women womanly.
She sat close to her father, her hand in his, listening intently to
the unfolding of a story of what to her was a mysterious world--the
man's world, the strong man's world--which many a woman would give her
all to enter and play a part therein.
"What else have you against a political career, Mr. Haines?" went on
the Senator, taking up their conversation.
"Well, my age, for one thing. I haven't any gray hairs."
Langdon waved this objection aside.
"I might arrange to pool ages with you. Sometimes I think we want
young men in politics, like you."
The reporter shook his head.
"Old in age and young in politics, like you, Senator Langdon," he
replied. "Politics I sometimes think is pure hypocrisy and sometimes
something worse. A man gets disgusted with the trickery and dishonesty
and corruption."
"Then," drawled Langdon, "the thing to do is to jump in and stop it! I
read in the newspapers a great deal about corruption. The gentlemen
in national politics whom I have had the honor of knowing--Senator
Moseley, an intimate friend of thirty years; my present colleague,
Senator Stevens, and others--have been as honest as the day is long."
"But the days do get short in November, when Congress meets, don't
they?" laughed Haines, rising. "I'm afraid I've taken too much of your
time, and I seem to have talked a lot."
Langdon was amused.
"Does look like I'd been interviewing you. I reckon each one of us has
got a pretty good notion of what the other man's like. I wanted it
that way, and I like you, Mr. Haines. I've got a proposition to make
to you. They tell me I'll need a secretary. Now, I think I need just
such a young man as you. I don't know just exactly what the work would
be or what the financial arrangements should be, but I think you and
I would make a pretty good team. I wish you'd come." He turned to his
daughter, with a smile. "What do you think of that, Hope Georgia?
Isn't your dad right?"
Smiling her approval, the young girl squeezed her father's hand in her
enthusiasm.
"I think it's a splendid idea, dad; just great! Won't you come, Mr.
Haines? We--eh--I--I know my father would like to have you."
As he stood before his two new-found friends--for such Haines now
considered the Mississippian and his daughter--he could not suppress
feelings of surprise tinged with uncertainty. He had, like other
newspaper men, received offers of employment from politicians who
desired to increase their influence with the press. Sometimes the
salary offered had been large, the work so light that the reporter
could "earn" the money and yet retain his newspaper position, a
scantily disguised species of bribery, which had wrecked the careers
of several promising reporters well known to Haines, young men who had
been thus led into "selling their columns" by unscrupulous machine
dictators.
Haines knew that the Mississippian had no ulterior purpose to serve in
his offer, yet he must have time to think over the proposal.
"I thank you, Senator," he finally said. "I appreciate the
opportunity, coming from you, but I've never thought of giving up the
newspaper profession. It's a fascinating career, one that I am too
fond of to leave."
Langdon started to reply, when a delightfully modulated Southern voice
interrupted:
"Father, I've been out with Mrs. Spangler to look for some other
rooms. I don't like this hotel, and I found some that I do like."
Haines turned to see a handsomely gowned young woman who had the
stamp of a patrician's daughter in her bearing and her countenance--a
brunette, with delicate features, though determination shone in her
eyes and appeared in the self-contained poise of her head. She was
the imperious type of beauty and suggested to Haines the dry point
etchings of Paul Helleu. He instinctively conceived her to be
intensely ambitious, and of this Haines was soon to have unexpected
evidence. Gazing at her with a sense of growing admiration, Haines
gave an involuntary start as Senator Langdon spoke.
"My daughter, Miss Carolina Langdon, Mr. Haines," said the Senator.
Carolina was interested.
"Are you the newspaper man who is interviewing father? I hope you'll
do a nice one. We want him to be a successful and popular Senator.
We'd like to help him if we could."
The correspondent bowed.
"I should say you certainly would help him to be a popular Senator,"
he declared, emphatically, failing to notice that Hope Georgia was
somewhat annoyed at the enthusiasm displayed over her elder sister. In
fact, Hope Georgia was suffering a partial, if not total, eclipse.
"I'm leaving it to Mr. Haines to put down the things I ought to say,"
broke in the Senator. "He knows."
"Yes, he knows everything about Washington, Carolina," exclaimed Hope
Georgia, spiritedly.
The older girl spoke eagerly.
"I wish you'd interview me, Mr. Haines. Ask me how I like Washington.
I feel as though I must tell some one just how much I do like it! It
is too wonderful!"
"I'd like mighty well to interview you, Miss Langdon,"
enthusiastically exclaimed Haines.
"I hope you will some time, Mr. Haines," remarked Carolina, as she
said good-by.
Watching her as she turned away, Haines saw her extend a warm greeting
to Congressman Charles Norton, who had advanced toward the group.
[Illustration: "STRANGE HOW THE LANGDONS TREAT HIM AS A FRIEND."]
"Strange how the Langdons treat him as a friend--intimate one, too,"
he thought. "What if they should learn of Norton's questionable
operations at the Capitol; of his connection with two unsavory
'deals,' one of which resulted in an amendment to the pure food law so
that manufacturers of a valueless 'consumption cure' could continue to
mislead the victims of the 'white plague'; Norton, who had uttered an
epigram now celebrated in the tap-rooms of Washington, 'The paths of
glory lead but to the graft.'"
"Miss Langdon is very beautiful and attractive, sir," said Haines,
resuming with the Senator.
"Yes," drawled the Mississippian. "Girls in the South generally are."
"Well, I must be going. I'll think about your secretaryship, Senator
Langdon. Perhaps I can find some one."
"Wish you'd think about it for yourself," observed the Senator, while
Hope Georgia again nodded approval. "It would be a hard job. There
are so many matters of political detail about which I am sadly
inexperienced that really most of the work would fall on the
secretary."
Bud Haines paused. Again he thought over Langdon's offer. Its
genuineness appealed to him. Suddenly there dawned on him an idea of
just what it might mean to be associated with this honest old citizen
who had asked for his help--who needed it, as Haines knew only too
well. He would be the Senator's guide and confidant--his adviser
in big matters. Why, he would practically be United States Senator
himself. He knew the "inside" as few others in Washington. Here was
a chance to match his wit against that of Peabody, the boss of the
Senate; a chance to spoil some of the dishonest schemes of those who
were adroitly "playing the game." He could bother, too, the intriguing
members of the "third house," as the lobbyists are called.
He could direct a lightning bolt into the camp of Andy Corrigan,
who claimed the honor of being "speaker of the third house." These
thoughts crowded into his mind. Then, too, he would become practically
a member of the Langdon family and have association with the two
charming daughters--with Carolina Langdon.
"It would be a great chance," he murmured half aloud; "next thing to
being a Senator."
The old Mississippian heard the young man's words.
"I reckon it would," he drawled, in agreement.
"You feel sure you want me?" urged the other.
Langdon chuckled.
"I asked you," he said.
Haines came abruptly to decision.
"I've thought it over, Senator, and it seems to me it will be a great
chance in every way. I'll accept. We'll fix it up to-morrow, and I'll
try to make you a good secretary."
Langdon held forth his hand.
"And I'll try to make you a good Senator, my boy. Fix up nothing
to-morrow. Your duties begin to-night. You are to come to dinner with
me and my daughters."
CHAPTER IX
A NEW KIND OF POLITICAL PARTNERSHIP
The combination of the forces of Langdon and Haines did not find much
favor among the powers that are--at the Capitol. Senator Peabody
peremptorily demanded an explanation from Stevens as to how he had
allowed "his Senator" to engage as his secretary "this inquisitive man
Haines, a reporter who didn't know his place."
"Here we've put Langdon on naval affairs because we knew he didn't
understand what's going on, and you, Stevens, supposed to be the
finished, product of the political mill, _you_ fall asleep and let
him take up a man whom nobody can control, one who knows the inside
workings of Washington and who will take par-tic-u-lar pleasure in
teaching your fellow Mississippian far too much for our good."
Stevens' reply, to effect that probably Haines would consent to
be "taken care of" if judiciously approached, was derided by the
observant Peabody. "A young reformer grows fat on notoriety," he
laughed, "and think what a scandal he would have for his newspaper if
we took a chance on disclosing our hand to him. No, no, Stevens; we
must have him watched and try to discredit him in some way. Perhaps we
can make Langdon believe that his secretary is dishonest."
Congressman Norton was another man who was dismayed at the formation
of the firm of Langdon and Haines. Young Randolph, too, could not
forget the defeat and humiliation he had previously suffered at
Haines' hands and grew more bitter as the reporter's influence over
his father grew stronger. But Haines' most effective enemy had arisen
in the person he would be the last to suspect; one whom he unceasingly
admired, one whose very words he had come to cherish. And possibly
it was not all her own fault that Carolina Langdon had enlisted her
services, subtle and quite overwhelming (owing to Haines' fervent
worship of her), against the secretary. Perhaps the social system of
which she had become a part in Washington had something to do with the
craving to become a leader in that fascinating world whose dazzling
variety and infinite diversion seemed to fill her soul with all
that it yearned for. Love she had, for she had now promised to wed
Congressman Norton. She loved him fondly, she had confessed to him,
and gradually she came to work desperately against Haines, who,
she had been convinced by Norton and Randolph, would prove a
stumbling-block to them, to her father, to herself in her career at
the capital, if his influence over the Senator should be permitted to
exist or to increase. And so on the surface Carolina Langdon was most
amiable to the secretary, encouraged him in his attentions to her, led
him surely into her power, Norton having prevailed, on her to keep the
knowledge of their engagement secret from every one, even her father.
The days and nights became filled with important work for Senator
Langdon and his secretary. Together they went over the important
measures, outlined what appeared to be the best course of procedure,
and carried it into effect as far as possible. Langdon became a
prominent figure in the Senate, owing to his consistent support of
measures that fitted in with the public policy, or what should be the
public policy, of the nation. He had learned that the only practicable
way to outwit or to cope with the members of the dominating machine,
made up, he was surprised to see, of members of both the parties--the
only two in Washington--was to oppose what the machine wanted with
enough power to force it to grant him what he believed the public
ought to have. He was described by some of the hide-bound "insiders"
on Capitol Hill as "the only brainy man who had fought the machine in
thirty years."
At the home he had later established in Washington as preferable
to the International Hotel were frequently seen a small coterie of
Senators and Congressmen who had become known to the sarcastic party
bosses in both houses of Congress as the "Langdon crowd," which crowd
was admitted to be somewhat a factor when it finally prevailed on the
President to take over 11,000 postmasters from the appointment class
and put them under the control of the Civil Service Commission,
resulting in the necessity of a competitive examination for these
postmasters instead of their securing positions through political
favoritism.
Those who did not know Langdon intimately suggested that "this fellow
ought to be 'taken care of.' What in God's name does he want? A
committee chairmanship? An ambassadorship for some Mississippi
charcoal burner? A couple of Federal judgeships for his friends? Well,
whatever it is, give it to him and get him in with the rest of us!"
Again it was Peabody who had the deciding say.
"There's only one thing worse than a young reformer, and that's an old
one," he laughed bitterly at a secret conclave at his apartment in the
luxurious Louis Napoleon Hotel. "The young one thinks he is going to
live and wants our future profits for himself. The old one thinks he's
going to die, and he's sore at leaving so much graft behind him."
Heads and hearts thinking and throbbing together, Langdon and his
secretary had learned to lean on each other, the young gaining
inspiration from the old, the old gaining strength from the young.
They loved each other, and, more than any love, they trusted one
another. And Hope Georgia watched it all and rejoiced, for she
believed with all the accrued erudition of eighteen years of innocent
girlhood that Mr. Bud Haines was quite the finest specimen of young
manhood this world had ever produced. How could he have happened? She
was sure that she had never met his equal, not even in that memorable
week she had spent in Jackson.
The passing weeks taught Haines that he was deeply in love with
Carolina, and, though he had endeavored to keep the knowledge of this
from her, her woman's intuition had told her his secret, and she
stifled the momentary regrets that flitted into her mind, because she
was now in "the game" herself, the Washington game, that ensnares the
woman as well as the man and makes her a slave to its fancy. No one
but herself and Norton knew how deeply she had "plunged" on a certain
possible turn of the political cards. She must not, she could not,
lose if life itself were to remain of value to her, and on her sway
over this secretary she was told it all depended.
A subject that for some unexplained reason frequently lodged in
Haines' mind was that of the apparent assiduity with which Mrs.
Spangler cultivated Senator Langdon's friendship. For several years
she had occupied a high social position at the capital, he well knew,
but various indefinite, intangible rumors he had heard, he could not
state exactly where, had made him regret her growing intimacy with
the girls and with the Senator. They had met her through letters of
introduction of the most trustworthy and assuring character from
people of highest social rank in Virginia, where the Langdons had many
friends; but even so, Haines realized, people who write introductory
letters are sometimes thoughtless in considering all the circumstances
of the parties they introduce, and residents of Virginia who had not
been in the capital for years might be forgiven for not knowing of
all the more recent developments in the lives of those they knew
in Washington. While not wishing to have the Senator know of his
intention, the secretary determined to investigate Mrs. Spangler and
her present mode of life at his first opportunity, hoping the while
that his quest would reveal her to be what the Langdons considered
her--a widow of wealth, fashion and reserve who resided at the capital
because the memories of her late husband, a former Congressman of high
standing, were associated with it.
Calling at the Langdons' house one evening in February to receive
directions regarding important work for the next day, Haines was
somewhat puzzled at the peculiar smile on the Senator's face.
Answering the secretary's look of inquiry, the Mississippian said:
"I've been told that I can name the new holder of a
five-thousand-dollar-a-year position in the Department of Commerce
and Labor, and that if I have no one in particular from my State to
name--that--that you would be a good man for the job. First I was
glad for your sake, my boy, for if you wanted it you could have the
position. But on thinking it over it seemed there might be something
behind it not showing on the surface."
"It's a trick," said Haines. "Who made the offer?"
"Senator Stevens."
"I might have known," hotly responded the secretary. "There's a crowd
that wants you and me separated. Thought this bait too much for me to
resist, did they?" Then he paused, rubbing his fingers through his
hair in a perplexed manner. "Strange, isn't it, Senator, that a man
of your party is offered this desirable piece of patronage, entirely
unsolicited on your part, from the administration of another, a
different political party? Especially when that other party has so
many hungry would-be 'tax eaters' clamoring to enter the 'land of milk
and honey.' I think Stevens deliberately--"
"There, there, Bud," broke in Langdon, "you mustn't say anything
against Senator Stevens to me. True, he associates with some folks I
don't approve of, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything wrong,
and I myself have always found him thoroughly honest."
"Yes," muttered the secretary, following the Senator into the library,
"you've always found him honest because you think everybody's
honest--but Stevens is just the doctor who will cure you of this
ailment--this chronic trustfulness."
Haines laughed softly. "When Peabody's little Stevie gets through
hacking at the prostrate body of political purity his two-handed sword
of political corruption will need new edges."
Thus far neither the Senator nor his secretary had suspicion of any
questionable deal in regard to the gulf naval base. The rush of other
events, particularly the fight over the reduction of the tariff, had
pushed this project temporarily into the background so far as they
were concerned, though the "boss of the Senate" and his satellites had
been losing no time in perfecting their plans regarding the choice of
Altacoola as the site.
Peabody and Stevens had ingeniously exploited Langdon at every
possible opportunity in relation to the naval base. Asked about new
developments in the committee on naval affairs, the ready answer was:
"Better see Senator Langdon. He knows all about the naval base; has
the matter in full charge. I really know little about it."
So, by hiding behind the unsuspecting old hero of Crawfordsville, they
diverted from themselves any possible suspicion and placed Langdon
where he would have to bear the brunt of the great scandal that
would, they well knew, come out at some future time--after their foul
conspiracy against the nation had been consummated, after the fruits
of their betrayal had been secured.
What, after all, the schemers concluded, is the little matter of an
investigation among Senators to guilty Senators who, deeply versed
in the law, have destroyed every compromising document that could be
admissible as evidence?
Why, the Senate would appoint an investigating committee and
investigate itself, would it not, when the ridiculous scandal came?
And what Senator would fear himself, or for himself, as he
investigated himself, when the blame had already been put publicly on
some one else, some simple-minded old soul who could go back to his
cotton fields in Mississippi and forget all about it, strong in his
innocence, even though shorn of reputation, and desire to live?
CHAPTER X
WHEN SENATORS DISAGREE
The wiseacres of Washington had nightly predicted, that the site of
the hundred-million-dollar gulf naval base would be decided on in
March, after the excitement and gayety attending the presidential
inauguration had subsided.
On the morning of the day before this action of the committee on naval
affairs was to be taken Secretary Haines sat at his desk in Senator
Langdon's committee room in the Capitol. Richard Cullen, the favorite
associate of Haines in his journalistic days, out earlier than usual
on his daily round of the departments for news for his Chicago paper,
had strolled in and attempted a few of his characteristic cynicisms.
Haines usually found them entertaining, but these were directed at
Senator Langdon.
"Now, let me tell you something, Dick," the secretary answered,
firmly. "Don't you work off all your dyspeptic ideas in this
neighborhood. My Senator is a great man. They can't appreciate him up
here because he's honest--crystal clear. I used to think I knew what a
decent citizen, a real man, ought to be, but he's taught me some new
things. He'll teach them all something before he gets through."
Cullen hung one leg over Haines' desk.
"You're a nice, quiet, gentlemanly little optimist, and I like you,
old fellow," retorted Cullen. "But don't deceive yourself too much.
Your Senator Langdon is personally one of the best ever. But he was
born a mark, and a mark he'll be to the end of time.
"He looks good now. Sure, I like his speeches, and all that, but just
wait. When some of those old foxes in the Senate want to put his head
in the bag and tie it down, they won't have any trouble at all."
Smiling, Haines looked up at his cynical friend.
"The bag'll have to go over my head, too," he said, with a nod.
"Well, I don't know that Peabody'd have to strain himself very much to
get such an awful big bag to drop you both in, if it comes right down
to that, old chap. You're making a mistake. You're as bad as your old
man. You're a beautiful pair of optimists, and you a good newspaper
man, too--it's a shame!"
After momentary hesitation, Cullen continued, thoroughly serious.
"But, my old friend," he said in low tone, glancing quickly about,
"there's one thing that you've got to put a stop to. It's hurting
you."
The secretary's face showed his bewilderment.
"What do you mean?" he snapped, abruptly. "Out with it!"
"I mean," replied Cullen, "that rumors are going around that you are
keeping Langdon away from the crowd of 'insiders' in the Senate for
your own purposes--that, in short, you plan to--"
"I understand," was the quick interruption. "I am accused of wanting
to 'deliver' Senator Langdon, guarantee his vote, on some graft
proposition, so that I can get the money and not he himself.
Consequently I'm tipping him off on what measures are honest, so that
he'll vote for them, until--until I'm offered my price, then influence
him to vote for some big crooked scheme, telling him it is all right.
He votes as I suggest, and I get the money!"
"That's what 'delivering a man' means in Washington," dryly answered
the Chicago correspondent. "It means winning a man's confidence, his
support, his vote, through friendship, and then selling it for cash--"
"But you, Dick, you have--"
"Of course, old man, I have denied the truth of this. I knew you too
well to doubt you. Still, the yarn is hurting you. Remember that
Western Senator who was 'delivered' twice, both ways, on a graft
bill?" he laughingly asked the secretary.
"Should say I did, Dick. That is the record for that game. It was a
corporation measure. One railroad wanted it; another opposed it. The
Senator innocently told an Eastern Senator that he was going to vote
for the bill. Then the Easterner went to the railroad wanting the
bill passed and got $7,000 on his absolute promise that he would get
Senator X. to vote for it, who, of course, did vote for it."
"Yes," said Cullen, "and later, when Senator X. heard that Senator Z.
had got money for his vote, he was wild. Then when another effort
was made to pass the bill (which had been defeated) the 'delivered'
Senator said to Z. as he met him unexpectedly: 'You scoundrel, here's
where I get square with you to some extent. Anyway, I'm going to vote
against that bill this time and make a long speech against it, too.'
Senator Z. then hustled to the lobbyist of the railroad that wanted
the bill killed and guaranteed him that for $10,000 he could get
Senator X. to change his vote, to vote against the bill."
"And he got the money, too, both ways," added Haines, as Cullen
concluded, "and both railroads to this day think that X. received the
money from Z."
"Of course," said Cullen, "but X. was to blame, though. He didn't know
enough to keep to himself how he was going to vote. Any man that talks
that way will be 'delivered.'"