The Landloper: The Romance of a Man on Foot

Chapter 14

Chapter 144,384 wordsPublic domain

“I'm glad of that. I am not in politics. The political mess grows to be nastier every year. But what are you here for? Come, now! Come! Let's talk it over.” He was a bit brusque, but his tone was kindly.

A man who stood up in the middle of the hall was rather shabby in his attire, but he had the deep eyes of one who thinks.

“Honored sir,” he said, “I don't stand up as one presuming to speak for all the rest. But I have talked with many men. I know what some of us want. We don't expect that laws or leaders will make lazy men get ahead in the world or that victuals can be legislated into the cupboard without a man gets out and hustles for 'em. I have worked at a bench ever since I was fourteen. I expect to work there until I drop out. I don't want any political office. I couldn't fill one. But why is it that the only men who get into office are the kind who turn around and get rich selling off property which belongs to all of us--I mean the franchises for this, that, and the other?” He sat down.

A thin man in the front row got up.

“Honorable Archer Converse, one franchise that was given away by those men years ago was the right to furnish water to this city. A private concern got hold of that franchise. It holds the right to-day. It saves money by pumping its water out of the Gamonic River. Saves money and wastes lives. The Board of Health's reports show that there were eleven hundred cases of typhoid fever in this city last year. In my family my mother and two of my children died. I shiver every time I touch a tap--but spring-water that can be depended on costs us at the grocer's a dollar for a five-gallon carboy--and my wages are only ten dollars a week. There are lakes twenty miles from this city. Pure water there for all of us! But every tap drips sewage from the Gamonic River. Haven't we got any leaders who will make that water company pump health instead of death?”

“They sent 'Tabulator' Burke up for ballot frauds,” said a voter who stood up in a far corner. “But anybody in this city understands well enough that the judge who sent him to state prison knew who the real chaps were, knew how much the real ones paid 'Tabulator' to take the whole blame. And the governor knows it all and has just reappointed that judge.”

The Honorable Archer Converse sat very straight in his chair and listened to those men. He continued to sit straight and listened to others. The men dealt in no diatribe. There was no raving, there was no anarchistic sentiments. They arose, uttered their grievances gloomily but without passion, and sat down.

One elderly man stood up and raised both hands.

“I came across the sea to this country, sir. I came because I could have my little share in the government where I paid taxes and labored--I could vote here. It's the only public privilege I have. But, O God, give us some one to vote for!”

“I sympathize with your feelings,” replied Mr. Converse. “But you are talking to the wrong man. I'm not in politics.”

“By the gods, you will be if my nerve only holds out,” Farr told himself.

Another man sprang to his feet. He spoke quietly, but his very repression made him more effective.

“What's the good of voting till men like you do get into politics, Mr. Converse, and give us leaders who will use their power to help the people who voted for them? I'm sick of voting. I'm teamed up to the polls by ward workers--and I know just why those men are in the game and who they're working for. What do you suppose Colonel Dodd cares which side carries this city, or which side carries the state? He and his crowd stand to win, whatever party gets in. You can't beat 'em. Business is business, no matter what politics may be! The city money is wasted just the same, the policy game is let run for the benefit of the rich men who back it, all the grafts go right on. You can't fool me any longer. They stir us poor chaps up at election-time, we rush to the polls and vote, and sometimes think we are accomplishing something. But what we're doing is simply boosting out some fellow who has made his pile and putting in another who wants office so that he can fill his own pockets by selling our common rights out to the same men. I say, you can't beat it!”

The Honorable Archer Converse seemed to find his position on the platform uncomfortable. He rose suddenly and stepped down on the floor. He went among the men. He grasped the hands that were outstretched to him. He realized that he had scant encouragement for these men. The meeting had given him new light. He knew considerable about the old days, and in the old days of politics men flocked to rallies. They harkened humbly to speeches from their leaders, and swallowed the sugar-coated facts, and listened to bands, and joined the torch-light parades, and voted according to party lines, and thought they had done well; the surface of things was nicely slicked over.

He understood that out of the ease with which the mob could be herded, with others doing their thinking for them, had grown politics as a business--with the big interests dominating both parties--and no one realized how it had all come about better than Converse. This new spirit, however, rather surprised him, for he had been keeping aloof from politics. These men who crowded about him were not mere dumb, driven voters in the mass--they were individuals who were thinking, who were demanding, who were seeking a leader that would consider them as citizens to be served, not chattels to be sold to the highest bidder. His keen lawyer's insight understood all this!

“I'm a butcher down in the stock-yards, Mr. Converse,” said one man, who pressed forward. “We've got trained bulls there who tole the cattle along into the slaughter-pens. I've got tired of being a steer in politics and following these old trained bulls.”

Converse worked his way through the press to the door, Farr at his heels.

When they were on the street the honorable gentleman turned sharply toward the Boulevard.

“I haven't any spirit or taste to-night for moonlight in the park, sir! A nice trick you played on me.”

“I wanted you to get a first-hand notion of a state of affairs, Mr. Converse.”

“But you ought to understand my temperament better--you ought to know it's going to stick in my mind, worry me, vex me, set me to seeking for remedies. It's just as if I'd been retained on a case. I feel almost duty-bound to pitch in.”

“It's strange how a man gets pulled into a thing sometimes--into something he had no idea of meddling with,” philosophized Farr, blandly. “That's the way it has happened in my case.”

“It has, eh?” demanded Mr. Converse, sharply. He had tacitly accepted the young man's companionship for the walk back to the Boulevard. “Now, look here! Just who are you?”

“My name is Farr and I'm nothing.”

“You needn't bluff me--you're a politician--a candidate for something.”

“I'm not even a voter in this state. It's men like you, sir, who ought to be candidates for the high offices.”

“My sainted father trained me to respect self-sacrifice, Mr. Farr. But for a clean man to try to accomplish things for the people in politics these days isn't self-sacrifice--it's martyrdom. The cheap politicians heap the fagots, the sneering newspapers light the fire and keep blowing it with their bellows, and the people stand around and seem to show a sort of calm relish in watching the operation. And when it is all over not a bit of good has been done.”

“I'm afraid I have wasted an evening for you, sir. I'm sorry. I hoped the troubles of those men, when you heard them at first hand, would interest you.”

“Interest me! Confound it all, you have wrecked my peace of mind! I knew it all before. But I'm selfish, like almost everybody else. I kept away where I couldn't hear about these things. Now, if I sleep soundly to-night I'll be ashamed to look up at my father's portrait when I walk into my office to-morrow morning. Why didn't you have better sense than to coax me into your infernal meeting?” He rapped his cane angrily against the curbstone as he strode on. “And the trouble with me is,” continued Mr. Converse, with much bitterness, “I know the conditions are such in this state that a meeting like that can be assembled in every city and town--and the complaints will be just and demand help. But there's no organization--it's only blind kittens miauling. It's damnable!”

“But this is the kind of country where some mighty quick changes can be made when the people do get their eyes open,” suggested the young man.

Mr. Converse merely grunted, tapping his cane more viciously.

They were on the frontier of the Eleventh Ward now. The brighter lights of the avenues of up-town blazed before them.

“Then you will not go into politics?” inquired Farr.

“I'd sooner sail for India with a cargo of hymn-books and give singing-lessons to Bengal tigers.”

“Good night, sir,” said Farr. He halted on the street corner which marked the boundary of the ward.

“Good night, sir!” replied Mr. Converse, striding on.

The young man watched him out of sight. He heard the angry clack of the cane on the stones long after the Honorable Archer Converse had turned the next corner.

“Maxim in the case of a true gentleman,” mused Farr: “tap his conscience on the shoulder, point your finger at the enemy, say nothing, simply stand back and give conscience plenty of elbow-room--it needs no help. There, by the grace of God, goes the next governor of this state.”

XX

CONSIDERATION: ONE DAUGHTER

On the morning following his discomfiture Richard Dodd posted himself in a little tobacco-shop opposite the Trelawny Apartment-house. Lurking behind cigar-boxes in the window, he held the door of the house under surly espionage. It was plain to the shopkeeper that “the gent had made a night of it.” Dodd's eyes were heavy, his face was flushed, and he lighted one cigarette after another with shaky hands.

Shortly before nine o'clock Kate Kilgour came out and walked down the avenue on the way to her work. Dodd stared after her until she was out of sight. Shame and anger and desire mingled in the steady gaze he leveled on her; in her crisp freshness she represented both the longed-for and the unattainable. He was conscious of a new sentiment in regard to her. In the past his impatience had been tempered by the comforting knowledge that she had promised herself to him--that she was his to own, to possess after a bit of tantalizing procrastination. Now he was not at all sure of her. He had been just a bit patronizing in the past--his successes with women had inflated his conceit--he had exhibited a rather careless air of proprietorship--his manner had said to her and to others, “This is mine; look at it!” But now when he had watched her out of sight jealousy, anger, the sour conviction that he had forfeited her regard combined to make him desperate, and the excesses of the night before kindled a flame which heated all his evil passions.

He threw away his cigarette, cursed roundly aloud, and hurried across the street into the Trelawny.

When Mrs. Kilgour admitted him to her suite she clung to the door-casing, exhibiting much trepidation.

He stepped in, closed the door, and put his back against it.

“Have you got those hysterics out of you so that you can listen to me and then talk sense?” he demanded, coarsely.

She went into her sitting-room and he followed, muttering:

“No wonder you ran away from me last night--no wonder you didn't have the face to stay and take what you deserve. How in tophet I ever allowed you to plan and manage I can't understand.”

“You asked me to,” she faltered.

“I didn't ask you to rig up a dirty conspiracy to queer me.”

“Richard, you are not yourself. You have been drinking!” She tried to exhibit protesting indignation and failed. “Come to me when you are yourself.”

“There's no more of this to-morrow business goes with me, Mrs. Kilgour. I'll admit that you're Kate's mother. But just now you are something else. You have tried to do me, and nobody gets by with that stuff--man, woman, or child. We'll have our settlement here and now.”

“I did the best I could,” she wailed.

“Out of what damnation novel did you get that idea?” he raged.

“It seemed to be a good plan, Richard. I swear by everything sacred I thought it would come out all right. Don't rave at me.” Her voice sunk to an appealing whisper. She picked up a book from her table. “If you will only listen--”

“So you did get it out of a novel! My God! what have your fool ideas done to me?”

“How do you dare to talk to Kate's mother like that?”

“I am not talking to Kate's mother, I tell you! I'm talking to a woman who has put me into a hell on earth. I'm talking to you, Mrs. Kilgour, and you don't know the whole story yet.”

“All my life it has been the same--only trouble and sorrow and to be misunderstood.” She began to sob.

“Is there anything in that novel about ringing in an iceman to break up a marriage? I say it was all a conspiracy. You didn't intend to be square. You intended to rig a scheme so that you could duck out from under. You have always done that, Mrs. Kilgour.”

“I had nothing to do with that man coming in.”

“Don't try to fool me any more. You told me to come, didn't you? You must have told some yarn to your daughter to have her come.”

“I did--it was all--”

“And then you told that plug-ugly to come in, too, and break it up so as to queer me. Why did I ever fall for such lunacy? If I hadn't been desperate I would never have let you drag me into such a devilish scheme. But now you have got to do your part to square me. It's going to be straight talk from now on, Mrs. Kilgour. There must be a settlement between us.”

She looked away from him. She was plainly searching her soul for excuses to postpone that settlement.

“That person who came in, Dicky! I swear I did not arrange any such thing. He is only an iceman. I don't know the man. It was some accident. If the matter hadn't been interrupted! It was going along all right.”

“What's the matter with your intellect? You know it wasn't going along at all! You simply had us chasing shadows. Good God! I ought to have made you tell me what you were planning. Think of it! Think of me waltzing down there like a boob and thinking you had something real to offer.”

“But you frightened her with that jailbird. You should have brought a real clergyman.”

“The man I brought has the power to perform marriages! I would have made a nice spectacle towing a clergyman into that mess, wouldn't I?”

She broke in upon his further speech. She wrung her hands, paltering, pleading, trying to explain, trying more desperately to postpone that settlement he was demanding.

“But, honestly, it did seem to be a good plan, Dicky. I'm her mother. I know her nature. You know how some natures have to be handled! She is so self-centered. She has to be taken by surprise. She has to know that she is making a sacrifice. That is why I arranged it all for Rose Alley and borrowed that house. And I had it all planned out what to say to her at the last moment there.”

“Well, what was this great thing you were going to say?” He glared at her, disgust and suspicion in his eyes.

She flushed. She hesitated, unable to meet his gaze.

“It's no use to tell you now, Dicky. Somehow, now that I come to think it all over, it sounds rather tame. It all did seem so plausible, what I was going to say when I sat down and planned out the thing. And the romance of it--you know even self-centered girls like to feel that a man wants them so much that he gets desperate--and she said once that she would marry you some time--perhaps--and--”

“Oh, you--you--” He broke in and then stopped, lacking words. “What's the use?” he muttered. “You don't even know your own daughter. She has been enduring me because you have been keeping at her. I understand it now. You told me you could hurry it up. You have made me look like a melodrama villain. You have made her hate me. Now own up! Didn't she rave to you after you got home and tell you she hated me? You have nailed me to the cross for ever where she is concerned--now haven't you? Own up.”

“I can win her back, Dicky. Give me a little time.” But she was not able to look at him. “Don't scold me any more. I'm her mother. She will obey her own mother in time. Don't hurt my sensitive nature any more.” She began to weep, twisting her rings on her trembling fingers.

He scowled at her, narrowing his eyes. “You haven't been playing square with me, Mrs. Kilgour.”

“Call me Mother Kilgour, Dicky, just as you always have.”

“I won't stand for any more bluffing, Mrs. Kilgour. Kate has sworn to you that she will never marry me--now hasn't she?”

“But I can talk her around--you can win her back. I'll tell her it was my plan--I'll have courage to tell her later--”

“So you have been laying that crazy idea all to me?”

“But I'll get up courage to tell her some day--and your devotion will win her back--devotion always wins. You can--”

“Mrs. Kilgour, I know you pretty well. I repeat, I know you have always ducked out from under--that's your nature. But here's a thing you can't dodge. You've got to come to time. You know how I love Kate. There isn't any reason why she shouldn't marry me. There's no excuse for her holding me off the way she does. You've got to fix it for me--quick! Understand? This fluff talk about 'devotion' and 'some day' doesn't go. I want action. Now hold on! I don't mean to threaten--I've been square with you till now. Good gad, you don't realize what a price I've paid!”

“And now on top of your other insults you are going to twit me again because I have borrowed five thousand dollars from you. Oh, Dicky, I thought you were more of a gentleman?”

“Mrs. Kilgour, I have simply got to make you understand what I have done for you before you'll wake up and do something for me.”

“I appreciate what you did, Dicky. Honestly, I do. You save me from losing money on my stocks.”

“Where are those stocks?”

She did not look at him. “I have them put away--all safe. They are all right. Just as soon as business is better I will get your money for you, Dicky. You shall have it, every cent.”

“Where are those stocks, I say! Mrs. Kilgour, look at me. Were are they?”

“Why are you so particular about knowing where they are?” Protecting herself, she showed a flicker of resentment.

“Because you must sell and hand me that money--at once.”

“I--I don't believe I can realize on them just now. They are--are down just at present. They--”

“What are the stocks?”

“I don't care to reveal my private business, Richard.”

“It happens to be my business, too. I'm in trouble. I must know. I shall stay here till I find out. You may as well come across.”

“As soon as I can arrange it--I will tell you. Very soon now!”

He snapped himself out of his chair and went across the room to her. He put his hands on her shoulders and bent his face to hers.

“You haven't any stocks, Mrs. Kilgour.”

“No,” she whispered, his eyes dominating her.

“What did you do with that money I loaned you?”

“I paid--a debt.”

“What debt? Answer! This thing must be cleared up--_now_!”

She began to weep.

“No more hysterics, Mrs. Kilgour. We are now down to cases. Something bad will happen if you don't confide in me.”

Then, cornered, with the impulse of weak natures to seek support from stronger--to appeal to a victor who cannot be eluded--she blurted the truth.

“They got to suspecting me when I was cashier for Dalton & Company. I heard they were going to put experts upon my books, Dicky. I didn't want to go to jail. I would have disgraced Kate. I knew you loved her and would not want her mother to be arrested. I had to have that money. I told you the story about the stocks. So I was saved from being disgraced.”

“Oh, you were?” His eyes flamed so furiously that she turned her gaze from him.

“And now I feel better, for I have confided in you and you're going to be my good and true friend from now on. It will be made up to you, Dicky.”

“What had you done with all that money you took from Dalton & Company?”

“It costs so much to live--and keep up the position I had when Andrew was alive! A woman needs so many things, Richard. I have always been proud. I was obliged to--”

He swore and swung away from her. “Wasted it on dress and jewelry! You turned the trick on one man and put him underground. And I'm the next victim! I knew I was being played for a sucker, but, oh--”

He battered his fists against the wall in pure ecstasy of rage. Then he sat down and put his face in his hands.

The woman clucked sobs which did not ring true.

“I wonder what Kate would say if she knew how I had come to the scratch. She knew her father was a hero. I wonder whether she would think I am one!” he said, after silence had continued for a long time.

“Are you going to tell her?” the mother gasped.

“I love her too much. But, see here! Do you think I picked that five thousand off a rose-bush?”

“You told me your uncle loaned it to you.”

“You think I got it easy--got it for the asking, and that's why you have been loafing on the job,” he said, with bitterness. “Ask my uncle for money? I should say not. He never loosened for anybody yet--not even his relatives. Mrs. Kilgour, I love your daughter so much--I was so anxious to help you--I stole that five thousand from the state treasury. I have been covering it in my accounts for more than a year--hell all the time with plenty of white-hot when the legislative committee has been over the accounts. Some day some blasted fool will wake up enough to see that there's a hole in my figures.”

He put his elbows on his knees and stared at the carpet. The woman's face grew white.

“That's how it stands with me, Mrs. Kilgour. You know you were not square with me at the start. You said you needed the money for only a few weeks--you said you were pinched in a stock deal. You lied to me. You have wasted the money on fine feathers for your back. I have kept still. You can't pay me. I've got to struggle out of the mess as best I can. But, by the eternal gods, there's something coming to me, and that's your daughter. Now are you going to wake up?”

“I'll do everything I can.” Her tone was not convincing, however.

He realized that this woman with the pulpy conscience and the artificial emotions, selfish and a coward, was merely vaguely stirred by his revelation, not spurred by the extent of his sacrifice in her behalf.

“Do what you _can_? Whine to me like that after I have stolen state's money and am standing under my steal? What if this state tips over politically and they investigate the treasury? I tell you, Mrs. Kilgour, I deserve to have Kate. I'm going to have her. You have got to fix it--and right away.”

“But I can't marry off a girl of twenty as if she were a Chinese slave.” His insistence caused her to display more of her pettish resentment.

“If you can't deliver the goods, Mrs. Kilgour, I shall take a hand in it.”

“How?”

“I'll tell her the story.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

“She has a sense of honor and of obligation even if you haven't. She will pay. She'll pay with herself. That's a devil of a way to get a wife, but if that's the only way I'll take it.”

“But you have just owned up that you have embezzled money. As Kate's mother it's my duty to protect her from disgrace.”

That amazing declaration fairly took away Dodd's breath.

By the manner in which the woman now looked at him it was plain that he had sunk in her estimation.

“You know, Richard, a mother feels called on to protect a good daughter.”

He got up and stamped on the floor in his passion and swore.

“I appreciate what you did for me--but, really, I didn't ask you to steal money--and I supposed your uncle was always liberal with you. You should not have told me falsehoods.”