The populace came first and packed solidly into the galleries of the great auditorium of Marion city.
For years the state conventions of the dominant party had attracted but little public attention. They had been simple affairs of routine, indorsing the men and the principles of the Big Machine. The next governor had been groomed and announced to the patient people long months before the date of the convention; platforms protecting the interests were glued placidly and secretly and brought forth from the star chamber to be admired; and no delegate was expected or allowed to joggle a plank or nick the smooth varnish which had been smoothed over selfish privilege.
But this year came all the people who could pack themselves into galleries and aisles.
Below on the main floor were more than two thousand delegates. Every town and city sent the full number accredited. After these men had been seated the men and women who thronged the corridors and stairways were allowed to enter and stand in the rear of the great hall.
Strange stories, rumors, predictions, had been running from lip to lip all over the big commonwealth. It was reported that the throne of the tyrant was menaced at last by rebellion which was not mere vaporings of the restless and resentful; organized revolt had appeared, marching in grim silence, not revealing all its strength, and therefore all the more ominous.
A military band brayed music unceasingly into the high arches of the hall. The music served as obbligato for the mighty diapason of men's voices; the thousands talked as they waited.
The broad platform of the stage was untenanted. The speakers, the chairman, the clerks, the members of the state committee, did not appear, though the hour named as the time of calling the meeting to order arrived and passed.
In an anteroom, so far removed from the main hall that only the dull rumble of voices and the shredded echoes of the blaring music reached there, was assembled the state's oligarchy awaiting the pleasure of Colonel Symonds Dodd.
He sat in a big chair, his squat figure crowding its confines.
The state committee and the rest of his entourage were gathered about him.
There was a committeeman from every county in the state—the men who formed the motive cogs of his machine.
One after the other they had reported to him.
And each time a man finished talking the colonel drove a solid fist down on the arm of the chair and roared: “I say again I don't believe it's as bad as you figure it. It can't be as bad. Do you tell me that this party is going to be turned upside down by a kid-glove aristocrat who has hardly stirred out of his office during this campaign?”
“He has had a chap to do his stirring for him,” stated one of the group.
“A hobo, scum of the rough-scruff, hailing from nowhere! Shown up in our newspapers as a ditch-digger—a fly-by-night—a nobody! I'm ashamed of this state committee, coming here and telling me that he has been allowed to influence anybody.”
“Colonel Dodd, what I'm going to say to you may not sound like politics as we usually talk it,” declared a committeeman, a gray-haired and spectacled person who had the grave mien of a student, “and it is not admitted very often by regular politicians who run with the machine. But we are up against something which has happened in this queer old world of ours a good many times. We have had the best organization here in this state that a machine ever put together. But in American politics it's always just when the machine is running best that something happens. Something is dropped into the gear, and it's usually done by the last man you'd expect to do it. The fellows who are tending the machine are too busy watching that part of the crowd they think is dangerous, and then the inconspicuous chap slips one over.”
“I don't want any lecture on politics,” snapped the boss. “Do you mean to insinuate that that low-lived Farr has put this over on us?”
“I have hunted to the bottom of things and I do say so, Colonel Dodd.”
“How in blazes did that fellow ever get any influence? I haven't been able to believe that he has been accomplishing anything.”
“You ought to have listened a little more closely to us, Colonel,” insisted the committeeman. “Every once in a while there comes forward a man whom the people will follow. And he is never the rich man nor the proud man, but he is one who knows how to reach the hearts of the crowd. A shrewd politician can get power by building up his machine. And then some fellow in overalls who has some kind of a God-given quality that has never been explained yet so that we can understand, smashes into sight like a comet. It may be his way of talking to men, it may be his personality—it is more likely a divine spark in him that neither he himself nor other men understand. But every now and again some humble chap like that has changed the history of the world, and I reckon it's pretty easy for such a man to change the politics of a mere state.”
His associates were staring at him and Colonel Dodd was giving him furious glances. He had spoken with enthusiasm. He broke off suddenly.
“I beg your pardon. I don't mean to go quite so far. But I'm a student of history and I've read a lot about natural-born leaders.”
“You evidently know more about history than you do about politics,” growled the colonel. “This whole state committee doesn't seem to know much politics. If you have allowed that Farr to slime his way around under cover and do you up in your own counties, I'll see to it that we have a new state committee.”
“I have an idea that that convention out there will attend to the matter of a new state committee for us.”
The new speaker's voice was very soft. His nickname in state politics was “Whispering Saunders.” He was known as being the most artistic political “pussy-foot” in the party. It was averred that he could put on rubber boots and run twice around the State House on a fresh fall of light snow and not leave a track.
“If I'm any kind of a smeller—and I reckon it's admitted that I am,” purred Saunders, “we are walloped before the start-off in every county delegation out on that floor.”
“But what has been the matter with you fellows all the time?” blazed the boss. “Up to now you have been reporting simply that the soreheads were growling and were not getting together so as to be dangerous.”
“Did you ever try to shovel up soft soap from a cellar floor with a knitting-needle?” inquired the politician. “That's how it's been in this case. Every man I talked with was slippery. I know slippery times when I see 'em. I've been afraid, but I hoped for the best. Now that they are here, with this convention due to be called to order, they are not slippery any longer. They don't need to be. I've just been through the convention hall. They are out and open—and they're against us.”
“That Farr has a proxy from a delegate in the Eleventh Ward and is on the floor,” stated another.
“But he isn't a voter.”
“He wasn't a little while ago, but he is to-day, Colonel. The board of registration had to put his name on the books—he has lived here long enough to become a voter.”
Colonel Dodd glared from face to face. It was plain that he was angered rather than dismayed; he was like a bull at bay, shaking the pricking darts out of his shoulders. He took a hasty glance at his watch. 'Twas twenty minutes past the hour appointed for the calling of the convention. He could hear the distant band still bellowing bravely to kill time.
A giant of a man stood up—a cool man, rather cynical. He was the chairman of the state committee.
“I have been waiting till all these gentlemen got the panic worked out of their systems—or, at least, had said all they could think of about that panic, Colonel. Now we can go ahead and do real business. We have not had a battle in this state for a long time, and this panic may be excusable. They say that the men who are the worst frightened before the battle do the best fighting after they get into the real scrap. I will admit that the situation in the state has been a little slippery, as Saunders has said. And some men have dared to do a lot of loud talking since they have arrived here in this city. It is so strange a thing that it has got everybody in a panic. The Chinese are wise—they show dragons to the enemy, but the dragons are only paper. Wouldn't think the enemy could be scared that way, eh? But look at this bunch of state committeemen! A pasteboard 'natural-born leader' set up, and Archer Converse puffing smoke through the nostrils of that effigy! Gentlemen, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves!”
Colonel Dodd snorted emphatic approval.
“You are talking like children. Guff and growls can't carry this convention. That crowd hasn't even got a candidate for governor. Have you heard one mentioned?”
“I don't suppose they would dare to go as far as that,” said one of the committeemen. “Governor Harwood, by party usage, is entitled to a renomination, of course. What they figure on is a new state committee and a platform that will include reforms.”
“Huh! Yes! So much striped candy! Give it to 'em. Then we've got only twenty-four men to handle in the way we have always handled state committees—and even that crowd can't find saints and archangels for their candidates! And as for a political platform—bah!”
It was the practical politician's caustic estimate of conditions.
Then the chairman joined in, bolstering this supercilious view: “As for that legislature—how many bills were ever passed in our legislature over a governor's veto after we had got in our work? We are going to have a safe man for governor. That band's lungs won't last for ever. Colonel Dodd, are you ready?”
If revolt and the spirit of resentment and rebellion did exist in that assemblage, which the magnates of the party faced when they marched upon the platform, the tumult of applause covered all sinister outward aspects. The routine of the convention was entered upon: the secretary read the convention call, the organization was perfected without protest, and the orator of the day, as president pro tem, a conservative United States Senator, began his “key-note speech.” It was a document which had been in proof slips for a week, and which all the party workers from Colonel Dodd down had read and approved. Therefore, when Richard Dodd entered from one of the side doors and came tiptoeing across the platform and touched the colonel's arm and jerked energetic request for the colonel to follow, the colonel followed, glad of an excuse to be absent while the Senator fulminated.
Young Dodd's face was flushed and working with excitement. He hurried his uncle into a small retiring-room and locked the door.
“I've got your man, uncle,” he declared.
“What man?” The colonel was grouchy and indifferent.
“Your man Farr.”
“I don't claim him.”
“But you said you wanted him. You said you wanted to hang him like a dead crow in the political bean-patch.”
“Merely momentary insanity on my part, Richard. There seems to have been a little run of it in this state, and when Judge Warren caught it and gave it to me I talked like a fool, I suppose. But you must remember that a polecat can give the most level-headed man an almighty start—and then the level-headed man walks out around the polecat and goes on his way very calmly.”
“But don't you consider that Farr is a dangerous man?”
The colonel held up his pudgy hand and snapped a finger into his palm. “He amounts to that in front of the muzzle of a ten-inch gun.”
“But I went ahead after what you said. I have put out time and money. I hired a detective. I figured I was doing a good job for the machine.” Young Dodd's voice trembled and disappointment was etched into his anxious features.
“Well, what have you found out?”
“I can't tell you. It's another man's secret, and he's got to have cash or a guaranty before he'll come across with it.”
“What's the price?”
Richard Dodd exhibited confusion and hesitation. “I made some promises to him, uncle, because I know what has been paid in the past for things which didn't seem to be as important as this—judging from the way you and the judge talked. So I—well, I—”
“Price, price, I say! I'm used to hearing money talked,” harked the colonel. “I've got to get back into that convention. Out with it!” He made two steps toward the door.
“Five thousand!” blurted the young man.
Colonel Dodd whirled and whipped off his eye-glasses so as to give his nephew the full effect of his contemptuous fury.
“Why, you young lunatic, I wouldn't pay that price if they were going to elect Farr the governor of this state, and make him a present of the Consolidated, and you could bring proof that he is the reincarnation of Judas Iscariot.”
A roar of voices and a thunder of thudding feet announced that the Senator had finished.
Colonel Dodd hurried away.
The nephew found Detective Mullaney in the alley behind the auditorium, and the young man's air of discomfiture and the sagging shake of his head told the story of his errand without words.
“If they're getting too mean in their old age to hand me a fair price for a good job then let 'em get licked,” declared the detective. “You stuck to our original figure of five hundred dollars, didn't you?”
The young man looked over the detective's head and lied. “Five hundred—that's what I told him.”
“And he wouldn't consider it?”
“Something has braced him so that he isn't afraid of the man any longer. Perhaps he has got a line of his own on him. It doesn't seem to be worth anything any longer. Suppose you tell me just who he is and what about him?”
“Not on your life!” retorted Detective Mullaney, sharply. “I ain't saying anything against your family, of course, but when I give a Dodd something for nothing—even a hint—it will be when I'm talking in my sleep and don't know it. But I'll tell you what I will do. Give me my two hundred and fifty and I'll hand you the whole proposition and you may go ahead and make what you can of it. I swear to you again that I've got it on him. Seeing what he did to you, you ought to feel that the story is worth that much of a gamble even for private purposes.”
Dodd hesitated, put his hand in his pocket—then withdrew it empty.
“No, Mullaney. What's the good? He says Farr isn't dangerous, and has turned down the whole thing flat. I may as well keep my money. If you want to sit on the platform, come along with me. I can find a place for you.”
Detective Mullaney followed willingly, for he knew that people were fairly piling over one another in an attempt to get into the hall by the main entrance.
He sat down in one of the square chairs on the platform and searched with his sharp little eyes until he found the face of Walker Farr in the terraced rows of humanity. It was not difficult to locate him, for his physique made him loom among other men and he was posted under the banner which marked the location of Moosac County.
The detective found the eyes of the young man directed toward the gallery with such intentness and for so long a time that he endeavored to trace that earnest scrutiny to its object. The detective was not exactly certain, but he finally picked out a very handsome young lady who occupied a front chair in the balcony; she seemed to be returning the young man's intent regard.
“You have the reputation of knowing all the pretty girls in the state,” whispered Mullaney, drawing Dodd's attention with a nudge. “Who is that up there in the gallery, front row, fifth from the aisle; blue feather, and so handsome she hurts my eyes?”
To have his attention drawn thus rudely to the one girl in all the world gave Dodd a sensation which he did not relish—and his face showed his astonished resentment.
“That is Miss Kilgour, who used to be my uncle's secretary. Why do you want to know who she is?”
“Because there seems to be something very especial on between her and the man we thought was worth five hundred dollars to us.”
“That young lady, Mr. Mullaney, is engaged to me,” stated Dodd, acridly. “You'd better drop the topic.”
But he did not display either the joy or the pride of the accepted suitor as he looked up at her.
“I'll simply say that you're a mighty lucky chap and I congratulate you,” returned Mr. Mullaney, hiding his confusion by getting very busy with newspaper clippings and papers which he drew from his breast pocket.
The detective was wholly unconscious of the irony of that remark. But it brought a flush of shame to Dodd's cheek, for the sorrow and sting and ignominy of that part which he had played had not departed from his soul nor did even the fervor of his passion for her help him forgive himself; he stared at her guiltily as the thief gloats over his loot and is conscious of his degradation without feeling sufficient contrition to give up the object he has stolen.
For he remembered with fresh and poignant recollection the circumstances under which that girl had given her promise to him so recently: she had stood over a mother who had abased herself before them, had cast herself down and had writhed and screamed and implored her to consent; and the mother was driven to do this by the lash of his threats. He had stood there and demanded, and the woman on the floor had confessed her frailty, owned to her misdeeds, acknowledged her debt, and had frantically begged her daughter to sacrifice herself.
The girl had given her “Yes,” paying the debt with herself; but her eyes had been wide and dry and her face was white and set and she had looked past the man to whom she promised herself when she had murmured that promise.
Dodd swept cold sweat from his forehead as he remembered; he found almost the same expression now on her face as she gazed down on Walker Farr, who stared back at her anxiously, perceiving a grief that he could not understand.
In that vast assemblage those three, thus wordlessly, no one marking them, fought a tragic battle of hopeless love with their eyes.
Detective Mullaney pored over his papers. “By gad,” he mused, “I haven't kept my books all this time for nothing. I know my card. I've got him right—it's dead open and shut. But I swear he doesn't look the part he played, even if the description does fit him. Well, law is law! If I can't sell him to Symonds Dodd, I'll find out how much those will pay who do want him.”
The routine of the great convention had been proceeding.
“And the gentleman from Danton, Mr. Gray, moves that we do now proceed with the nomination of a candidate for governor,” intoned the chairman in sing-song tones.
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