Part 19 (2/2)
”Do you know Richard Warrington, the playwriter?”
”That sn.o.b? Yes, I know who he is, and I'd like to punch his head for him, too.”
McQuade smiled. This manifest rancor on Bolles' part would make things easier than he thought.
”Well, listen. I've just been tipped that big things are going to happen this fall. That fool Donnelly has queered himself, and is making a muddle of everything he touches. Senator Henderson is a shrewd man, but he wasn't shrewd enough this time. He should have conducted his little conspiracy in his own home and not at a club where servants often find profit in selling what they hear. Henderson is going to put Warrington up for mayor.”
”The h.e.l.l he is!” said Bolles.
Martin's jaw dropped, and the cigar ashes tumbled down his s.h.i.+rt bosom.
”It's no joke,” went on McQuade. ”If he is nominated, he'll win. The people are wanting a change. If the Henderson people get into the City Hall, I stand to lose a fortune on contracts. You both know what that means. Warrington must never get a chance to accept.”
Bolles looked at Martin. McQuade saw the look, and, interpreting it, laughed.
”These are no dime-novel days. We don't kill men to get 'em out of the way. We take a look into their past and use it as a club.”
”I begin to see,” said Martin. ”Warrington must be side-tracked before the convention. Good. That'll be simple.”
”Not very,” McQuade admitted. ”It's going to be a devilish hard job.
You, Bolles, pack up and go to New York. I want some information regarding this young fellow's past in New York. It's up to you to get it. No faking, mind you; good substantial evidence that can be backed up by affidavits. Get the idea? Five hundred and expenses, if you succeed; your expenses anyhow. Five hundred is a lot of money these days. But if you go on a bat, I'll drop you like a hot brick, for good and all. Think it over. Pack up to-night, if you want to. Here's a hundred to start with. Remember this, now, there must be a woman.”
”A woman?”
”Yes. A man has no past, if there isn't a woman in it.”
”I can land that five hundred,” Bolles declared confidently. ”I can find the woman. I'll write you every other day.”
”Well, then, that's all. Good luck. No boozing while you're on the job Afterward I don't care what you do. By-by.”
Bolles took his dismissal smilingly. Five hundred. It was easy.
”If it's possible, he'll do it,” said Martin. ”But what's your campaign?”
”Donnelly must remain another term. After that, oblivion. There'll be bids this fall. If Henderson's man wins, there'll be new aldermen.
These bids of mine must go through and gas must be kept at a dollar-fifty. I'm a rich man, but at present I'm up to my neck in southern contracts that aren't paying ten cents on the dollar.
Herculaneum's got to foot the bill.”
”How'd you find out about Henderson's coup?”
”One of the waiters at his club said he had some information. I gave him ten dollars for something I'd have given ten hundred for just as quickly. If Henderson had sprung Warrington in September, we'd have been swamped. Now we have a good chance to hang on.”
”Force him to back down and withdraw?”
McQuade nodded.
”It's simply got to be done. I didn't give Henderson credit for so clever a move as this. A new man, famous and wealthy, under no obligations to his party; the voters would follow him just for the novelty of the thing. Besides, there are other reasons, but I'm keeping them to myself. How about that pavement deal in John Street?”
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