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[Illustration: THE SENATOR AND "BUD" HAINES.]
A GENTLEMAN FROM MISSISSIPPI
A NOVEL
Founded on the popular play of the same title
PRODUCED UNDER THE MANAGEMENT OF WM.A. BRADY AND JOS.R. GRISMER
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE SENATOR AND BUD HAINES
"FROM NEW YORK, EH? THE VICKSBURG OF THE NORTH"
"STRANGE, HOW THE LANGDON'S TREAT HIM AS A FRIEND"
THE SENATOR ACCEPTS AN INVITATION TO TEA
THE LANGDON FAMILY
"YOU'LL HAVE TO TAKE YOUR MEDICINE LIKE A MAN"
"TO-MORROW, AT 12.30"
"AFTER I HAVE FINISHED, I DARE ONE OF YOU TO DENY A WORD"
INTRODUCTION
_Here is a story of an epoch-making battle of right against wrong, of honesty against corruption, of simplicity and sincerity against deceit, bribery and intrigue. It is the story of to-day in this country. It vitally concerns every man, woman and child in the United States, so far-reaching is its influence.
The warfare is now going on—the warfare of honest men against corrupt political machines.
The story tells the "inside" of the political maneuvers in Washington and of the workings of bosses there and elsewhere—how they shape men and women to their ends, how their cunning intrigues extend into the very social life of the nation's capital. You will find inspiration in the career of the honest old Southern planter elected to the United States Senate and the young newspaper reporter who becomes his private secretary and political pilot. Your heart will beat in sympathy with the love of the secretary and the Senator's youngest daughter.
You will read of the lobbyists and find that not all of them are men. You will see how avarice causes a daughter to conspire against her father. You will hear the note of a gripping national tragedy in the words of Peabody, the "boss of the Senate." But cause for laughter as well will not be found lacking in this truly many-sided narrative._
A Gentleman from Mississippi
* * * * *
CHAPTER I
PRACTICAL POLITICS
That bids him flout the law he makes;
That bids him make the law he flouts.
—Kipling.
In buoyant spirit the Hon. Charles Norton rode up the bridle path leading through the Langdon plantation to the old antebellum homestead which, on a shaded knoll, overlooked the winding waters of the Pearl River. No finer prospect was to be had in all Mississippi than greeted the eye from the wide southwest porch, where on warm evenings the Langdons and their frequent guests gathered to dine or to watch the golden splendor of the dying sun.
The Langdon family had long been a power in the South. Its sons fought under Andrew Jackson at New Orleans, under Zachary Taylor in the war with Mexico, and in the Civil War men of that name left their blood on the fields of Antietam, Shiloh, the Wilderness and Gettysburg. But this family of fighting men, of unselfish patriots, had also marked influence in the ways of peace, as real patriots should. Generations of Langdons had taken deepest pride in developing the hundreds of acres of cotton land, whose thousands of four-foot rows planted each April spread open the silvery lined bolls in July and August, and the ripened cotton fiber, pure white beneath the sun, gave from a distance the picture of an expanse of driven snow.
The Hon. Charles Norton had reason for feeling well pleased with the world as he fastened his bay Virginia hunter to a convenient post and strode up the steps of the mansion, which was a characteristic survivor of the "old South," the South of gilded romance and of gripping tragedy. Now in this second year of his first term as Congressman and a promising member of the younger set of Southern lawyers, he had just taken active part in securing the election of Colonel William H. Langdon, present head of the family, to the United States Senate, though the ultimate action of the Legislature had been really brought about by a lifelong friend of Colonel Langdon, the senior Senator from the State, James Stevens, who had not hesitated to flatter Norton and use him as a cat's-paw. This use the Hon. Charles Norton seemed to consider an honor of large proportions. Not every first-term Congressman can hope for intimacy with a Senator. Norton believed that his work for Langdon would win him the family's gratitude and thus further his ambition to marry Carolina, the planter's oldest daughter, whose beauty made her the recipient of many attentions.
A complacent gleam shone in Norton's eyes as they swept over the fertile acres of the plantation. He thought of the material interest he might one day have in them if his suit for the hand of Carolina progressed favorably. Suddenly his reverie was interrupted by the voice of young Randolph Langdon, a spirited lad in his early twenties, who had just been made plantation manager, by his father.
"Well, how is the honorable to-day?" said Randolph, approaching from the doorway. "I didn't think a Congressman could be spared from Washington but rarely, especially when the papers say the country needs such a lot of saving."
"Oh, this 'saving the country' talk goes all right in the story books," replied Norton, who exercised considerable influence over the youth through a long acquaintanceship and by frequently taking him into his confidence, "but this country can take pretty good care of itself. In Congress we representatives put the job of saving it over on the Senate, and the Senate hands back the job to us. So what's everybody's business isn't anybody's; a fine scheme so long as we have a President who keeps his hands off and doesn't—"
"But how about the speeches and the bills?" broke in Randolph. "I thought—"
"Yes, yes; to be sure," the Congressman quickly added. "Nearly all of us introduce these so-called reform bills. When they're printed at government expense we send copies, carried free by the Post-office Department, to our constituents, and when we allow the bills to die in some committee we can always blame the committee. But if there's a big fight by our constituents over the bill we let it pass the House, but arrange to kill it in the Senate. Then we do the same thing for the Senators. Like in every other business, my boy," continued Norton as he led the way into the house, "it's a case of 'you tickle me and I'll tickle you' in politics. And don't let any one fool you about the speeches either. They are pretty things to mail to the voters, but all the wise boys in Washington know they aren't meant seriously. It's all play acting, and there are better actors in the Senate than Henry Irving or Edwin Booth ever were."
"I don't think my father looks at things in the way you do, Charlie."
"No? Well, maybe he doesn't now, but he will later on when he takes his seat in the Senate. If he isn't wise enough to play around with the rest of the Senators he won't get any bills passed, especially any bill carrying an appropriation or of any other particular importance."
"What!" ejaculated the planter's son. "Do you mean to say that if father won't do what the other Senators want him to do they will combine against him and destroy his usefulness, make him powerless—a failure?"
The Congressman smiled patronizingly on the youth. "Why, of course they will. That's politics, practical politics, the only kind that's known in Washington. You see—"
"But the leaders of the great parties!" cried the young plantation manager, in amazement. "Why don't they prevent this?"
"Because they invented the system and because political party differences don't amount to a whole lot much of the time in Washington. The politicians do most of their criticizing of the other party away from Washington, where the voters can hear them. But when circumstances sometimes force a man to rise to assail the other side in Congress he afterward apologizes in secret for his words. Or, sometimes he apologizes beforehand, saying: 'I've got to hand out some hot shot to you fellows just to please a crowd of sovereign voters from my district who have come up to Washington to see me perform. So, of course, I've got to make a showing. Don't mind what I say. You know I don't mean it, but the old fogies will go back home and tell their neighbors what a rip-snortin' reformer I be.'"
"Is that the way you represent your district; Norton?" asked Planter
Langdon, who at this juncture entered the room.
"No, no, Mr. Langdon—I should say Senator now, I suppose. I was merely telling Randolph how some legislators conduct themselves."
The Senator-elect paused momentarily, gazing at the Congressman, who, dark-visaged, tall, black-haired, broad-shouldered and athletic, was visibly uneasy at having his conversation with Randolph overheard by the father.
"No doubt it won't be all plain sailing in Washington for an old-fashioned man like me, but I believe in the American people and the men they send to Congress," slowly spoke the planter. "There's Senator Stevens, for instance. He has always stood for the rights of the people. I've read all his speeches. Just why he brought about my election it is hard to tell, for I've been a planter all my life, except when I fought under Beauregard. I feel that he did it out of friendship, and I simply can't say how much I appreciate the honor. I am indebted to you, too, Congressman."
Tactfully disclaiming any credit for his work, only Norton's congressional training in repression enabled him to refrain from smiling at Langdon's innocence, his belief in Stevens' sincerity and his wonder over his election. Stevens, the keen, cold and resourceful, who forced his officeholders to yield him parts of their government salaries; Stevens, who marketed to railway companies his influence with the Department of Justice; Stevens, who was a Republican in the committee room in Washington and a Democrat on the platform in Mississippi; Stevens, who had consummated the deal with Martin Sanders, boss of seven counties, to elect Langdon because of the planter's trustfulness and simplicity of character, which should make him easy to influence and to handle in the all-important matter of the gulf naval base project!
The entry of Carolina Langdon and her younger sister, Hope Georgia, gave Norton a welcome opportunity to shift the trend of conversation.
"You ladies will have a gay time in Washington," he began, after directing a particularly enthusiastic greeting to Carolina. "You will be in great demand at all the big affairs, and I don't think you will ever want to come back to old Mississippi, forty miles from a railroad, with few chances to wear your New York gowns."
Carolina spoke quickly, her face flushing at the thought of the new vista of life now opening. "Yes, I have always longed to be a part of the real life of this world; the life of constant action—meeting new people every day, and prominent people. Balls, receptions, teas, theater parties, afternoon drives, plenty of money and plenty of gayety are what I want. I'm not a bit like Hope Georgia, who thinks these ideas are extravagant because she has not seen real life yet—"
"Carolina, you must not think me 'only your little sister' now. I have seen life. Haven't I spent a week in Jackson?"
"That's enough proof. You know all about life, I'm sure, Miss Hope
Georgia," smilingly remarked Norton.
Later, rising to join Planter Langdon on the veranda, where he had gone to smoke, the Congressman gazed intently at Carolina. "You will probably forget your old friends when you enter the dizzy social race in Washington."
"No, Charlie, I couldn't forget you, anyhow. You will be there, too. I shall depend on you a great deal to take me about, unless you are too busy making speeches and fighting your opponents."
Again it was Norton's turn to be inwardly amused at the political ignorance of the Langdon family. Speeches? The first-term Congressman doesn't make speeches in Washington, because no one cares what he thinks—except the lobbyists, whose business it is to provide new members with a complete set of thoughts. Neither does he have opponents—he is not considered important enough by the veterans to be opposed.
Skilfully approaching the subject which next to Carolina Langdon had been uppermost in his mind during his visit, Norton asked the Senator-elect on joining him if he did not believe that the entire South would benefit if the plan to establish a naval base on the gulf was successfully carried through.
"Most certainly I do, and, as I said during the senatorial fight, the whole country as well will be the gainer," responded Langdon.
"Don't you think the people who want Altacoola chosen as the site have the best arguments?" was the visitor's next question, the reply to which he anxiously awaited.
"Yes, I do, from what I've already heard; but I haven't heard very much of what the folks who advocate other sites have to say. So, until I've heard all sides and made my own examination, I couldn't give any one my final answer, but Altacoola seems to have the necessary qualifications."
"Senator Stevens is in favor of Altacoola," eagerly suggested Norton.
"Yes, and that's a pretty good argument in its favor," responded
Langdon.
Norton now excused himself, pleading an appointment with a client at a neighboring village. Waving farewell to Carolina and Hope Georgia, who stood at a window, he rode away. "The old man is sure to be all right," he muttered. "He leans toward Altacoola and believes in Stevens. He'll lean some more until he falls over—into the trap. There's a fortune in sight—within reach. Langdon has faith in his friends. He won't suspect a thing."
Still another thought occurred to the Hon. Charles Norton. "Stevens elected Langdon out of friendship," he chuckled, gleefully. "That will be well worth telling in Washington."
CHAPTER II
THE WARS OF PEACE
"Big Bill" Langdon was the term by which the new Senator from Mississippi had been affectionately known to his intimates for years. He carried his 230 pounds with ease, bespeaking great muscular power in spite of his gray hairs. His rugged courage, unswerving honesty and ready belief in his friends won him a loyal following, some of whom frequently repeated what was known as "Bill Langdon's Golden Rule":
"There never was a man yet who didn't have some good in him, but most folks don't know this because their own virtues pop up and blind 'em when they look at somebody else."
At the reunions of his old war comrades Langdon was always depended on to describe once again how the Third Mississippi charged at Crawfordsville and defeated the Eighth Illinois. But the stirring events of the past had served to increase the planter's fondness for his home life and his children, whose mother had died years before. At times he regretted that his unexpected political duties would take him away from the old plantation even though the enthusiastic approval of Carolina and Hope Georgia proved considerable compensation.
Although not sworn in as Senator, Colonel Langdon's political duties were already pressing. A few days after Congressman Norton's visit he sat in his library conferring with several prominent citizens of his county regarding a plan to ask Congress to appropriate money to dredge a portion of the channel of the Pearl River, which would greatly aid a large section of the State.
During the deliberations the name of Martin Sanders was announced by Jackson, the Colonel's gravely decorous negro bodyguard, who boasted that he "wuz brung up by Cunel Marse Langdon, suh, a fightin' Mississippi cunel, suh, sence long befo' de wah and way befo' dat, suh."
"Show Mr. Sanders right in," commanded Colonel Langdon.
"Good-day, Senator," spoke Sanders, the boss of seven counties, as he entered. Glancing around the room, he continued, bending toward the Colonel and muffling his now whispering voice with his hand: "I want to speak to you alone. I'm here on politics."
"That's all right; but these gentlemen here are my friends and constituents," was the reply in no uncertain voice. "When I talk politics they have a perfect right to hear what I, as their Senator, say. Out with it, Mr. Sanders."
As Sanders was introduced to the members of the conference he grew red in the face and stared at Langdon, amazed. At last he had discovered something new in politics. "Say," he finally blurted out, "when I talk business I—"
"Are you in politics as a business?" quickly spoke Colonel Langdon.
"Why—I—er—no, of course not," the visitor stammered. "I am in politics for my party's sake, just like everybody else," and Sanders grinned suggestively at his questioner.
"Have you anything further to say?" asked Langdon, in a tone hinting that he would like to be rid of his caller.
"Well, since you are so very new in this game, Senator, I'll talk right out in meetin', as they call it. I came to ask about an appointment an' to tip you off on a couple o' propositions. I want Jim Hagley taken care of—you've heard of Jim—was clerk o' Fenimore County. A $2,000 a year job'll do for him; $500 o' that he gives to the organization."
"You're the organization, aren't you?" queried Langdon.
"Why, yes. Are you just gettin' wise?" cried Sanders. "Haven't I got fellers, voters, VOTERS, VOTERS, d—n it, hangin' on to me that needs to be taken care of! An' so I make the fellers that work help those that don't. Why, Langdon, what'n h—l are you kickin' an' questioning' about? Didn't you get my twelve votes in the Legislature? Did you have a chance for Senator without 'em? Answer me that, will you? Why, with 'em you only had two more than needed to elect, an' the opposition crowd was solid for Wilson," cried the angry boss, pounding the long table before which Langdon sat.
"I'll answer you almighty quick," retorted the now thoroughly aroused Senator-elect, rising and shaking his clenched fist at Sanders. "Those twelve votes you say were yours—yours?"
"Yes, mine. Them noble legislators that cast 'em was an' is mine, mine. I tell you, jest like I had 'em in my pocket, an' that's where I mostly carry 'em, so as they won't go strayin' aroun' careless like."
"You didn't have to vote those men for me. I told you at the Capitol that I would not make you or anybody else any promises. You voted them for me of your own accord. That's my answer."
At this point the gentlemen of the county present when Sanders entered and who had no desire to witness further the unpleasant episode, rose to leave, in spite of the urgent request of Colonel Langdon that they remain. The only one reluctant to go was Deacon Amos Smallwood, who, coming to the plantation to seek employment for his son, had not been denied of his desire to join the assemblage of his neighbors.
Last to move toward the door, he stopped in front of Sanders, stretched his five feet three inches of stature on tiptoe, and shook a withered fist in the boss' firmly set, determined face.
"Infamous!" shrieked the deacon. "You're a monster! You're unrighteous! You should have belonged to the political machine of Cataline or Pontius Pilate!"
"Never heard tell o' them," muttered Sanders, deeply puzzled. "Guess they was never in Mississippi in my time."
His accompanying gesture of perplexity caused the deacon to hasten his exit. Tripping over the leg of a chair, he fell headlong into the arms of the watchful Jackson, who received the deacon's blessing for "uplifting the righteous in the hour of their fall."
Relieved at the departure of the witnesses, Sanders showed increased aggressiveness. "To be sure, Senator, you were careful not to personally promise me anything for my support at the election, as you say," the leader sneered; "but you had Jim Stevens to make promises for you, which was smooth, absolute an' artistic smooth—"
"Stop, sir!" Langdon furiously shouted. "You forget, sir, that your insinuation is an insult to a man elected Senator from Mississippi, an insult to my State and to my friend Senator Stevens, who I know would make you no promises for me, for he had not my authority."
"Certainly you're a Senator, but what's a Senator, anyhow? I'll tell you, Mr. Colonel Langdon, a Senator is a man who holds out for his own pocket as much as us fellows that make him will stand for. When we don't get our rightful share, he's through."
With a sudden start, as though to spring at Sanders' throat, Langdon, with compressed lips and eyes blazing, grasped the edge of the table with a grip that threatened to rend the polished boards. With intensest effort he slowly regained control of himself. His fury had actually weakened him. His knees shook, and he sank weakly into a chair. When he finally spoke his voice was strained and laborious. "Sanders, you and I, sir, must never meet again, because I might not succeed in keeping my hands off you. What would my old comrades of the Third Mississippi say if they saw me sitting here and you there with a whole body, sir, after what you have said? They would not believe their eyes, thank God, sir. They would all go over to Stuart City and buy new glasses, sir." A suspicious moisture appeared on the Colonel's cheeks which he could not dry too quickly to escape Sanders' observation.
"But I had to let you stay, sir, because you, the sole accuser, are the only one who can tell me what I must know."
"What do you want to know?" asked Sanders, who had realized his great mistake in losing his temper, in talking as openly and as violently as he had and in dragging the name of Senator Stevens into the controversy. He must try to keep Stevens from hearing of this day's blunder, for Jim Stevens knew as well as he, didn't he, that the man who loses his temper, like the man who talks too much, is of no use in politics.
"I want to know how you formed your opinion of political matters—of Senators. Is it possible, sir, that you have actual knowledge of actual happenings that give you the right to talk as you have? I want to know if I must feel shame, feel disgrace, sir, to be a Senator from Mississippi; that State, sir, that the Almighty himself, sir, would choose to live in if he came to earth."
"There, there, Senator, don't take too seriously what I have said," Sanders replied in reassuring tone, having outlined his course of action. "I lost my head because you wouldn't promise me something I needed—that appointment for Hagley. What I said about Senators an' such was all wild words—nothin' in 'em. Why, how could there be, Senator?" This query was a happy afterthought which Sanders craftily suggested in a designedly artless manner.
"Just what I thought and know!" exclaimed Langdon, sharply. "It couldn't be; it isn't possible. Now you go, sir, and let it be your greatest disgrace that you are not fit to enter any gentleman's house."
"Oh, don't rub it in too hard, Senator. You may need my help some day, but you'll have to deliver the goods beforehand."
"I said, 'Go!'"
"I'm goin', but here's a tip. Don't blame me for fightin' you. I've got to fight to live. I'm a human bein', an' humans are pretty much the same all over the world; all except you—you're only half natural. The rest of you is reformer."
After Sanders' departure the Colonel sat at his table, his head resting in his hand, the events of the day crowding his brain bewilderingly.
"The battles of peace are worse than any Beauregard ever led me into," he murmured. "Fighting o conquer oneself is harder than turning the left flank of the Eighth Illinois in an enfilading fire."
But the new Senator from Mississippi did not know that for him the wars of peace had only just begun, that perhaps his own flesh and blood and that of the wife and mother who had gone before would turn traitor to his colors in the very thickest of the fray.
CHAPTER III
HOW TO PLEASE A SENATOR
The International Hotel in Washington was all hustle and bustle. Was it not preparing for its first Senator since 1885? No less a personage than the Hon. William H. Langdon of Mississippi, said to be a warm personal friend of Senator Stevens, one of the leading members of his party at the capital, had engaged a suit of rooms for himself and two daughters.
"Ain't it the limit?" remarked the chief clerk to Bud Haines, correspondent of the New York Star. "The Senator wrote us that he was coming here because his old friend, the late Senator Moseley, said back in '75 that this was the best hotel in Washington and where all the prominent men ought to stay."
Haines, the ablest political reporter in Washington, had come to the International to interview the new Senator, to describe for his paper what kind of a citizen Langdon was. He glanced around at the dingy woodwork, the worn cushions, the nicked and uneven tiles of the hotel lobby, and smiled at the clerk. "Well, if this is the new Senator's idea of princely luxury he will fit right into the senatorial atmosphere." Both laughed derisively. "By the way," added Haines, "I suppose you'll raise your rates now that you've got a Senator here."
The clerk brought his fist down on the register with a thud.
"We could have them every day if we wanted them. This fellow, though, we'll have all winter, I guess. His son's here now. Been breaking all records for drinking. Congressman Norton of Mississippi has been down here with him a few times. There young Langdon is now."
Haines turned quickly, just in time to bump into a tall, slender young man, who was walking unevenly in the direction of the café.
"Well, can't you see what you're doing?" muttered the tall young man thickly.
Haines smiled. The chap who has played halfback four years on his college eleven and held the boxing championship in his class is apt to be good-natured. He does not have to take offense easily. Besides, Randolph Langdon was plainly under the influence of whisky. So Haines smiled pleasantly at the taller young man.
"Beg your pardon—my fault," Haines said.
"Well, don't let it occur again," mumbled Langdon, as he strolled with uneven dignity toward the door. Bud Haines laughed.
"I guess young Langdon is going to be one of the boys, isn't he?"
"He's already one of them when it comes to a question of fluid capacity," laughed some one behind him, and Bud whirled to meet the gaze of his friend, Dick Gullen, representative of one of the big Chicago dailies.
"You down here to see Langdon, too?" commented Bud.
Cullen nodded. "Queer roost where this Senator is to hang out, isn't it?"
"He can't be a rich one, then," suggested Haines.
Cullen chuckled.
"Perhaps he's an honest one."
"I hadn't thought of that. You always were original, Dickie," commented Haines, dryly. "By the way, what do you know about him?"
"Nothing, except that the Evening Call printed a picture of his eldest daughter—says she's the queen daughter of the South, a famous beauty, rich planter for a father, mother left her a fortune—"
"She'll cut quite a social caper with this hotel's name on her cards, won't she?" broke in Haines, as he led Cullen to a seat to await the expected legislator, whose train was late.
"I don't know very much about him myself," said Haines. "All I've been able to discover is that Stevens said the word which elected him, and that looks bad. Great glory! When I think what a Senator of the right sort has a chance to do here in Washington—a nonpartisan, straight-out-from-the-shoulder man!" He paused to shake his head in disgust. "You know these fellows here in the Senate don't even see their chance. Why, if you and I didn't do any more to hold our jobs than they do, we'd be fired by wire the first day. They know just the old political game, that's all."
"Its a great game, though, Bud," sighed Cullen, longingly, for, like many newspaper men, he had the secret feeling that he was cut out to be a great politician.
"Sure, it's a great game, as a game," agreed Haines. "So is bridge, and stud poker, and three-card monte, and flim-flam generally. Take this new man Langdon, for instance. Chosen by Stevens, he'll probably be perfectly obedient, perfectly easy going, perfectly blind and—perfectly useless. What's wanted now is to get the work done, not play the game."
Thoroughly a cynic through his years of experience as a newspaper man, which had shown the inside workings of many important phases of the seemingly conventional life of this complex world, Cullen pretended unbounded enthusiasm.
"Hear! hear!" he shouted. "All you earnest citizens come vote for Reformer Haines. I'm for you, Bud. What do I get in your cabinet? I've joined the reformers, too, and, like all of them, me for P-U-R-I-T-Y as long as she gives me a meal ticket."
But not even Cullen could make Haines consider his views on the necessity of political regeneration to be ridiculous. His optimism could not be snuffed out, for he was a genuine believer that the natural tendency of humankind was to do right. Wrong he believed to be the outcome of unnatural causes. This quality, combined with his practical knowledge of the world and his courage, made him a formidable man, one who would one day accomplish big things—if he got the chance.
"You know you can't shut me up, Dick," was his response to Cullen's oratorical flight. "I'm going to have my say. I don't see why a Senator shouldn't be honest. All I want them to do is to play a new game. Let 'em at least seem to be honest, attend to their business, forget politics. The country sends them here to work, and if they do the work the people really don't care a hang what party they belong to."
"Come out of it, Bud. Your brain is wabbly," yawned Cullen, wearily. "I'll buy a drink if you'll quiet down. Let's be comfortable till this fellow Langdon appears." He caught his friend by the arm and in spite of protest dragged him off to the café just as young Langdon and Congressman Norton came down through the lobby.
Though but few years older than Randolph Langdon, Charles Norton had long exercised strong influence over him because of his wider experience in the world's affairs. Like his father, young Langdon had stayed close to the plantation most of his life, particularly after leaving school, devoting his attention to studying the business of conducting the family's big estate. Norton brought him the atmosphere of the big outside world he yearned to see even as did his sister Carolina, and he imitated Norton's manners, his dress and mode of speech. The Congressman's habit of confiding in Randolph, a subtle compliment, was deeply appreciated by the lad, who unconsciously became a continual advertiser of Norton's many virtues to Carolina and to his father, all of which the Congressman knew.
That Norton's political career was the outcome of Carolina Langdon's ambition to shine in gay society was known to his friends as well as his family, and his desire to win her and place her where she could satisfy every whim had developed almost to a frenzy. Seeing evidences of Senator Stevens' vast influence, he did not hesitate to seek a close relationship with him, and the Senator was clever enough to lead Norton to consider him his friend.
At the start of his political career Norton had higher ideas of honor than guided his actions now that he had become a part of the political machine that controlled his native State of Mississippi, and of the bipartisan combination that dominated both houses of Congress in the interest of the great railway and industrial corporations. Senator Stevens and other powers had so distorted Norton's view of the difference between public and private interests and their respective rights that he had come to believe captial to be the sacred heritage of the nation which must be protected at any cost. The acceptance of a retainer from the C. St. and P. Railroad Company for wholly unnecessary services in Washington—only another way of buying a man—a transaction arranged by Senator Stevens, was but another stage in the disintegration of the young Congressman's character, but it brought him just that much closer to the point where he could claim Carolina Langdon as his own. And opportunity does not knock twice at a man's door—unless he is at the head of the machine.
Norton, the persevering young law student who loved the girl who had been his boyhood playmate, was now Norton who coveted her father's lands, who boasted that he was on the "inside" in Washington, who was on the way to fortune—if the new Senator from Mississippi would or could be forced to stand in favor of the Altacoola naval base.
His conversation with Randolph Langdon, as Haines and Cullen saw them pass through the hotel lobby, illustrated the nature of the Norton of the present and his interest in the Altacoola scheme.
"There's no reason why you shouldn't come in on the ground floor in this proposition, Randolph," he was urging in continuance of the conversation begun over a table in the café. "No reason why you shouldn't do it, my boy. Why, are you still a child, or are you really a man? You have now drafts for $50,000, haven't you?"
"Yeah," agreed Langdon, chagrined at Norton's insinuation of youthfulness and anxious to prove that he was really a man of affairs, "I've got the fifty thousand, Charlie, but—but, you see, that's the money for improvements on the plantation. As father has put me in as manager I want to make a showing."
"You can't make it until spring," urged Norton. "The money's got to lie in the bank all winter. Now, why don't you make a hundred thousand with it instead of letting it lie idle? Isn't that simple?"
The younger man's eyes opened wide, and his imagination, stimulated by the special brand of Bourbon whisky Norton had ordered for him, took rapid bounds.
"One hundred thousand! You mean I could make a hundred thousand with my fifty between now and spring?"
"Sure as a nigger likes gin," replied Norton, confidently.
"How?" asked Langdon.
The young Congressman leaned over confidentially.
"This is under your hat, Randolph. You can keep quiet?"
Langdon nodded eagerly.
"Then put it into Altacoola land."
"The naval base?" gasped Langdon.
Norton nodded.
"Now you've hit it. The Government will select Altacoola for a naval base. Then land will jump 'way up to never, and you'll clean up a hundred thousand at the least. Isn't it simple? There are, a thousand people with money who would just love to have this chance. And I'm giving it to you because of our friendship. I want to do you a good turn. I've got my money in there."
Young Langdon was visibly impressed.
"You've always—treated me right, Charlie; you've been for me, I know. But suppose the Government doesn't select Altacoola. Gulf City's in the running."
Norton laughed sarcastically.
"Gulf City is a big bunch of mud flats. Besides, I'll tell you something else. Just between us, remember." He waited for the boy's eager nod before he went on. "The big men are behind Altacoola. Standard Steel wants Altacoola, and what Standard Steel wants from Congress you can bet your bottom dollar Standard Steel gets. They know their business at No. 10 Broadway. Now, then, are you satisfied?"
Randolph was more than satisfied. Already he felt himself rich, and honestly rich, too, for Norton had convinced him that there was no reason why he should not use the $50,000 of his father's, when it had to lie in the bank anyhow all winter, and he would have it back in time to use on the plantation in the spring when it was needed. How proud of him his father would be when he showed him a clear profit of $100,000!
"I'll go get the drafts at once, Charlie, and I'm mighty much obliged to you," he said, with gratitude in his voice.
Norton's smile was one of deep satisfaction.
"That's all right, Randolph. You know I want to do anything I can for you."
Randolph was starting for his room when Haines and Cullen turned sharply around the corner of the hotel desk. Again Bud and the young Southerner accidentally collided.
"Where are you going? Can't you look out?" blurted Langdon.
Haines grinned.
"Guess it's your fault this time."
"Oh, it is, is it?" irritably replied Randolph, who as the "young marse" had been accustomed to considerable deference on the plantation. "Well, take that," he angrily cried, aiming a savage swing at Haines.
The reporter's athletic training proved of ready service. Dodging under the clenched fist, he turned dexterously, seized young Langdon's outstretched wrist and bent the arm down over his (Haines') shoulder as though to throw the young attacker with the wrestler's "flying mare." Langdon was helpless, as Haines had also secured his free hand, but instead of completing the "throw" the reporter walked away with his foe held securely on his back—to put him to bed, a kindly service, in view of Randolph's mental state.
From across the lobby Charles Norton had watched Randolph's discomfiting encounter with Haines with amusement.
"Now that I've got the young fellow to sew up his old man's money in Altacoola land," he chuckled, "reckon Senator William H. Langdon won't see anything wrong with that same noble tract of universe when he comes to vote for the naval base. Senator Stevens will be pleased."
CHAPTER IV
"JUST THE MAN WE NEED"
As Bud Haines returned from young Langdon's room, where he had left the latter in bed, with a towel filled with cracked ice around his head, he saw two familiar figures standing in a secluded corner of the lobby. They were talking earnestly in a low voice.
"Whew!" whistled the newspaper man. "It must be something important that brings both the boss of the Senate and Stevens of Mississippi here."
"Good-afternoon, Haines. How are you?" Senator Stevens said, cordially, as, looking up, he saw the newspaper man approaching. "Senator Peabody, you know Haines, don't you? The brightest young correspondent in Washington."
Senator Peabody of Pennsylvania, the leading power in the upper house, was a man of commanding character and of strong personality. The fact he used these attributes to advance in the Senate the financial interests of himself, of Standard Steel and other commercial organizations met with very little protest in Washington. That he deserved the title frequently used in referring to him, "boss of the Senate," none would deny who had knowledge of the inner workings of the Senate and the various committees.
Senator Peabody was very affable to the reporters, especially to those of Haines' stamp, who had never accepted any favors from him and who opposed his methods. He aimed to win the friendship of these opponents by diplomacy—as he had found that reporters of the Haines sort could not be influenced by money. He considered a reporter who would take a bribe as a constructive, conservative member of society, and frequently regretted that so many of the correspondents sent to Washington could not be bought nor had bills they wanted passed or defeated. He extended his hand to Haines as Stevens concluded and said, warmly:
"Of course I know the representative of the Morning Star! How do you do, Haines?"
"I wonder if we're not all here on the same errand," suggested the newspaper man.
Senator Peabody appeared to be all candor.
"We came to call on Senator Langdon, Senator Stevens' new colleague," he said.
Bud Haines opened his eyes wide. "By Jove! Langdon stock is going up when the chairman of the naval committee drops in to welcome him."
"You see, Langdon went in on a naval base platform," explained
Stevens. "Our section of the South is red hot in favor of the
Government spending its naval base appropriation right there."
"Certainly," interrupted Haines, "but—"
"And, there being a vacancy on the committee on naval affairs," continued Stevens, whose dignity was offended by the reporter's interruption, "the friends of Senator Langdon are working to have him appointed on that committee, because he comes from the State where the naval base will be located and will, like myself, be more familiar with the availability of the various sites suggested than a man from another State."
Haines nodded.
"Yes, of course. What town's going to get it, Senator?"
Senator Stevens paused judiciously.
"Well," he said, "Altacoola and Gulf City are the chief candidates. I suppose you had better talk to Langdon about it."
The reporter smiled.
"That's just what I came for, Senator, but I have to go up to the War Department now. When Senator Langdon comes will you be kind enough to tell him I want to interview him?"
Stevens bowed cordially.
"Indeed I shall. I'll tell him he's in luck to have the smartest young man in Washington on the job."
"All right," laughed Bud, "only don't make it so strong that he won't recognize me when he sees me. Good-day." And he hurried away to keep a belated appointment.
"Clever boy," said Stevens as the newspaper man disappeared.
The boss of the Senate agreed.
"Yes, only I'm not sure it's a good thing for a newspaper man to be too clever. Spoils his usefulness. Makes him ask too many confounded questions."
Stevens acquiesced, for it would never do to disagree with the boss.
"It's very kind of you, Senator," he began, changing the subject, "to come with me to welcome the new Senator from my State, my old friend and colleague."
An inscrutable smile—a smile, yet a cold one—accompanied Peabody's answer.
"I have always found, Stevens," he said, "that a little attention like this to a new man is never wasted, and I make it a rule not to overlook opportunities."
Again the senior Senator from Mississippi acquiesced, and he laughed heartily at Peabody's keen insight into human nature.
"I think you'll like Langdon," Stevens remarked after a pause, "and you'll find him easy to deal with. Just put up any measure for the benefit of the South and Langdon will go the limit on it. Even a Republican majority doesn't mind a little Democratic support, you know. I think he's just the man you can use in this gulf naval base bill."
"You can swing him?" asked Peabody, sharply.
Stevens drew closer to Peabody.
"I elected him, and he knows it," he chuckled.
The boss nodded.
"And it's likely that a man like Langdon, new to politics—a simple gentleman of the old school, as you describe him—might have considerable influence on opinion throughout the country."
Langdon's colleague grasped the arm of the senatorial dictator.
"He's just the man we want, Senator. He's one of those old fellows you just have to believe when he talks. He'll do what I suggest, and he can make the public believe what we think."
"Then you guarantee him?" snapped the boss.
"Unreservedly, Senator."
"All right," said Peabody. "He goes on the naval committee. That ought to be enough honor for a man who a year ago was growing cotton on an old plantation miles away from civilization."
"We have control now of all the land about Altacoola that can be used," said Stevens. "I have had Norton, the Congressman from Langdon's district, working on it. There isn't a foot of land there which we do not now control under options, and," he added, with a chuckle, "the options were dirt cheap."
Peabody grunted approvingly.
"There won't be any New York fortune in it, but it ought to be a pretty tidy bit," he said. "Now, if we could only get Langdon interested, directly or indirectly, in a financial way, that would clinch everything."
The senior Senator from Mississippi shook his head.
"It's too risky. He's old-fashioned, you know—has about as much idea about practical politics as—well, as we have of the Golden Rule. Fact is, he rather lives by that antiquated standard. That's where we get him. He owes everything to me, you see, so naturally he'll do anything I want him to. By the way, there's Norton now. Perhaps he can tell us something."
"Call him over," said Peabody.
Norton had been strolling about the lobby, hoping to be noticed. The flame had lured the moth, and it liked the manner of the singeing. The Congressman hurried precipitately across at Stevens' summons.
"I've been wanting to speak to you, gentlemen," said Norton, full of the good trick he had turned, "but I didn't like to interrupt you. I think I've done a big stroke for Altacoola to-day."
Even Peabody pricked up his ears.
"Yes?" said both Senators together.
With a keen sense of the dramatic, the Congressman let his next words drawl out with full effect.
"I've got Senator Langdon interested—financially interested," he said.
His two hearers exchanged a significant glance.
"How?" asked Peabody, sharply.
Norton smiled shrewdly.
"Well, I just let his son invest $50,000 of the Senator's money in
Altacoola land. That ought to help some."
Stevens stared in amazement at his Congressman, his eyes threatening to bulge out of his head.
"What!" he gasped. "You got Langdon's money in Altacoola, through his son?"
"I sure have, Senator," chuckled Norton. "He's in to the extent of fifty thousand, and I've promised that the fifty shall make a hundred by spring."
"It'll make three hundred thousand at least," snapped Peabody. "Norton, you've done a good day's work. By the way, a New York client of mine has a little business that I cannot attend to handily. Doesn't involve much work, and a young, hustling lawyer like you ought to take charge of it easily. The fee, I should say, would be about $10,000. Have you the time to undertake it?"
The Congressman drew a long breath. His eyes beamed with gratitude.
"I should say I have, Senator. Of course, it won't interfere with any of my duties as a Congressman."
Peabody smiled.
"Of course not, Norton. I see that your sense of humor is improving. If convenient, run over to New York the last of the week. I'll give you a card. My client's office is at 10 Broadway."
The ruler of the Senate nodded a curt dismissal.
"Thank you, Senator; thank you very much." And Norton bowed and left, rejoicing.
Peabody turned to Stevens.
"You see, even a Congressman can be useful sometimes," remarked
Stevens, dryly.
"Keep your eye on that young man, Stevens. He's the most valuable Congressman we've had from your State in a long while. Does just what he is told and doesn't ask any fool questions. This was good work. Langdon's on the naval committee now sure. Come, Stevens; let's go to some quiet corner in the smoking-room. I want to talk to you about something else the Standard has on hand for you to do."
Hardly had they departed from the lobby when resounding commotion at the entrance, followed by the rushing of porters and bellboys and an expectant pose on the part of the clerk, indicated that the new Senator from Mississippi had arrived.
CHAPTER V
THE BOSS OF THE SENATE INSPECTS A NEW MEMBER
An actor playing the rôle of a high type of Southern planter would score a decided success by picturing the character exactly after the fashion of Senator William H. Langdon as he strode to the desk of the International Hotel. A wide-brimmed black hat thrust back on his head, a long black perfecto in his mouth, coattails spreading out behind as he walked, and the "Big Bill" Langdon smile on his face that carried sunshine and good will wherever he went, he was good to look on, an inspiration, particularly in Washington.
Following the Senator were Miss Langdon and Hope Georgia, leading a retinue of hotel attendants staggering under a large assortment of luggage. Both beautiful girls, they caused a sensation all of their own. Carolina, a different type from the younger, had an austere loveliness denoting pride and birth, a brunette of the quality that has contributed so much to the fame of Southern women. Hope Georgia, more girlish, and a vivacious blonde, was the especial pet of her father, and usually succeeded in doing with him what she chose.
A real Senator and two such young women handsomely gowned seemed to take the old hotel back a score of years—back to the times when such sights were of daily occurrence. The ancient greatness of the now dingy International lived again.
"How are you, Senator? Glad to welcome you, sir," was the clerk's greeting.
The genial Senator held out his hand. Everybody was his friend.
"Glad to meet you, sir; glad to meet you," he exclaimed. "Must make you acquainted with my daughters. This is Miss Carolina Langdon, this Miss Hope Georgia Langdon."
The two girls, with their father's idea of courtesy, shook hands with the clerk, who was not at all taken aback by the unexpected honor.
Hope Georgia was thoroughly delighted with everything, but Carolina looked at the worn and faded walls and furnishings with evident distaste.
"Oh, this is Washington," murmured Hope Georgia ecstatically, clasping her hands and gazing at a vista of artificial palms in a corridor.
"Ah, this is Washington," sighed the new Senator contentedly, as he gazed across a hall at the biggest and most gorgeous cigar stand he had ever seen or ever hoped to see—the only new thing added to the hotel since Grant was President.
"Truly magnificent establishment you have here, sir; magnificent!" he exclaimed as an imitation marble column came within his purview. "I remember my friend Senator Moseley speaking to me of it thirty years ago. Are our rooms ready?"
The clerk, hugely pleased, hastened to assure him that everything was in first-class order, waiting.
"You better go up, girls, while I look around a bit and sort of get the hang of things."
"Yes, I think we had better look around a bit, too, before we decide, father," said Carolina, diplomatically.
Her father patted her affectionately on the arm.
"Now, don't you worry, Carolina. I see you think this place too expensive from its looks—too good for us. But I tell you the best, even this, isn't too good for you girls and your dad. Run away, and I'll come up and see you soon."
The new Senator leaned his elbow on the desk, surveying the place.
"I understand this is a favorite haunt for the big men of Washington," he said.
The clerk eagerly agreed.
"Yes, indeed, Senator; we have them all. Senator Peabody and Senator
Stevens were here just a moment ago. Boy, find Senator Peabody and
Senator Stevens and tell them Senator Langdon is here."
The two Senators came quickly.
"I'm glad to see you, Langdon; glad to see you," exclaimed Stevens, with an assumption of effusiveness. "I want to introduce you to Senator Peabody of Pennsylvania."
Peabody bowed, and Langdon held out his hand.
"I'm delighted to meet you, Senator. This is a proud day for me, sir."
Peabody had put on his smoothest and most polished manner.
"I came especially to meet you, Senator Langdon," he said. "Although we are on different sides we may be interested in the same things. I hope we shall see a great deal of each other."
Langdon chuckled.
"That's mighty good of you, Senator. I'm depending on you experienced fellows to put me through. Don't know much about this lawmaking business, you know. Raising cotton, arguing the Government and bossing niggers have been about the extent of my occupation for the last forty years, so I reckon I'm not much of a practical lawmaker."
"Oh, you'll learn; you'll learn quickly," assured Peabody. "With
Stevens, here, for a guide you can't go wrong. We all look up to
Stevens. He's one of the powers on your side. He's an able man, is
Stevens."
The new Senator from Mississippi gladly corroborated this.
"You're right, sir. A great man! I tell you, when he told that Legislature what they ought to do, Senator Peabody, they did it. If it wasn't for Stevens I wouldn't be here now."
In mock protest the senior Senator from Mississippi raised his hands.
"Now, now, Langdon, don't say that. Your worth, your integrity, your character and our old friendship got you the senatorship."
The old planter laughed gleefully.
"Sure, Stevens, I have the character and the integrity, but I reckon the character and integrity wouldn't have done much business if you hadn't had the Legislature."
Clearly delighted, Peabody considered it certain that this new Senator knew just the way he should go and would cause no difficulty. His keen sense of gratitude made him appreciate how he had been elected. Peabody literally beamed on Langdon.
"I hope we shall be able to work a good deal together, Senator," he said. "I have the interests of the South at heart, particularly with regard to this new naval base. Perhaps we may be able to get you on the naval committee."
"Me!" laughed Langdon. "Well, that would be going strong! But I tell you I'm for the naval base."
"For Altacoola?" suggested Stevens.
Langdon hesitated. Peabody and Stevens watched him as eagles watch their prey from the mountain crag.
"Well, it looks to me like Altacoola ought to be a fine site. But the actual place isn't so important to me. I tell you, gentlemen," he said in impressive seriousness that rang with sturdy American manhood—"I tell you that what is important is that the great, sweeping curve of the gulf shall hold some of those white ships of ours to watch over the Indies and the canal and to keep an eye on South America.
"And right there on our own Southern coast I want these ships built and equipped and the guns cast and the men found to man them. I want the South to have her part in the nation's defense. I want her to have this great naval city as the living proof that there is again just one country—the United States—and the North and the South both have forgiven."
Senator Peabody clapped the new member on the back.
"Good!" he exclaimed. "You've got to make some speeches like that.
We'll have you as the orator for the naval base."
Langdon's eyes opened wide.
"Orator!" he gasped. "Me! An orator!"
"Why, that was oratory, good oratory," exclaimed Stevens, with enthusiasm.
"Huh!" grunted the planter. "You call that oratory. Why, that was only the truth."
"We'll see that you do some more of it, then," laughed Peabody.
"Remember, we count on you for the naval base."
"For rural simplicity he's perfection," whispered Peabody to Stevens as they left the planter. "He's a living picture of innocence. We'll push him forward and let him do the talking for the naval affairs committee. Hiding behind him, we could put through almost any kind of a proposition."
Once more did the senior Senator from Mississippi acquiesce.
CHAPTER VI
NEW FRIENDS—AND AN OLD ENEMY
Langdon gazed at the two departing Senators with varied emotions. He sat down to think over what they had said and to carefully consider what manner of man was Peabody, who showed such an interest in him. He realized that he would have considerable intercourse with Peabody in the processes of legislation, and finally had to admit to himself that he did not like the Senator from Pennsylvania. Just what it was Langdon could not at this time make certain, but he was mystified by traces of contradictions in the Senator's character—slight traces, true, but traces nevertheless. Peabody's cordiality and sympathy were to Langdon's mind partly genuine and partly false. Just what was the cause of or the necessity for the alloy in the true metal he could not fathom.
His talk with these famous lawmakers was unsatisfactory also in that it had conveyed to Langdon the suggestion that the Senate was not primarily a great forum for the general and active consideration of weighty measures and of national policies. It had been his idea that the Senate was primarily such a forum, but the attitude of Peabody and Stevens had hinted to him that there were matters of individual interest that outweighed public or national considerations. For instance, they were anxious that Altacoola should have the naval base regardless of the claims or merits of any other section. That was unusual, puzzling to Langdon. Moreover, it was poor business, yet there were able business men in the Senate. Not one of them would, for instance, think of buying a site for a factory until he had investigated many possible locations and then selected the most favorable one. Why was it, he pondered, that the business of the great United States of America was not conducted on business lines?
He must study the whole question intelligently; that was imperative. He must have advice, help. To whom was he to go for it? Stevens? Yes, his old friend, who knew all "the ropes." Yet even Stevens seemed different in Washington than Stevens in Mississippi. Here he played "second fiddle." He was even obsequious, Langdon had observed, to Peabody. In Mississippi he was a leader, and a strong one, too. But Senator Langdon had not yet learned of the many founts from which political strength and political leadership may be gained.
What he finally decided on was the engaging of a secretary, but he must be one with knowledge of political operations, one who combined wisdom with honesty. Such an aid could prevent Langdon from making the many mistakes that invariably mark the new man in politics, and he could point out the most effective modes of procedure under given circumstances. It might prove difficult to find a man of the necessary qualifications who was not already employed, but in the meantime Langdon would watch the playing of the game himself and make his own deductions as best he could.
The Senator started toward the hotel desk to ask regarding the whereabouts of his son Randolph, when his attention was caught by the sight of three powerful negro porters endeavoring to thrust outdoors a threadbare old man. The victim's flowing white hair, white mustache and military bearing received short shrift.