Part 35 (1/2)
”The a.s.sociated Press to-day,” said young Ward, ”has a story to the effect that there is a great boom in certain railroad stocks owing to some secret operations of Mr. Barclay. They don't know what he is doing, but things are pretty shaky. He refuses to make a statement.”
”He's a queer canny little man,” explained Watts. ”You never know where he'll break out next.”
”Well, he's up to some devilment,” exclaimed Dolan; ”you can depend on that. Why do you suppose he's laying off the hands at the strip factory?”
The young man shook his head. ”Give it up. I asked Mr. Mason and the best I could get out of him was a parrot-like statement that 'owing to the oversupply of our commodity, we have decided to close operations for the present. We have, therefore,' he said pompously, 'given each of our employees unable to find immediate work here, a ticket for himself and family to any point in the United States to which he may desire to go, and have agreed to pay the freight on his household goods also.' That was every word I could get out of him--and you know Mr. Mason is pretty talkative sometimes.”
”Queer doings for the dusty miller,” repeated Dolan.
The group by the bench heard the slap of the checkerboard on its shelf, and General Ward cut into the conversation as one who had never been out of it. ”The boy's got good blood in him; it will come out some day--he wasn't made a Thatcher and a Barclay and a Winthrop for nothing. Lizzie was over there the other night for tea with them, and she said she hadn't seen John so much like himself for years.”
Young Ward went about his afternoon's work and the parliament continued its debate on miscellaneous public business. The general pulled the _Times_ from Dolan's pocket and began turning it over. He stopped and read for a few moments and exclaimed:--
”Boys--see here. Maybe this explains something we were talking about.” He began reading a news item sent out from Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C.
The item stated that the Department of Commerce and Labour had scored what every one in official circles believed was the most important victory ever achieved by the government outside of a war. The item continued:--
”Within the last ten days, the head of one of the largest so-called trusts in this country called at the department, and explained that his organization, which controls a great staple commodity, was going into voluntary liquidation. The organization in question has been the subject of governmental investigation for nearly two years, and investigators were constantly hampered and annoyed by attempts of politicians of the very highest caste, outside of the White House, trying to get inspectors removed or discredited, and all along the line of its investigations the government has felt a powerful secret influence s.h.i.+elding the trust. As an evidence of his good faith in the disorganization, the head of the trust, while he was here, promised to send to the White House, what he called his 'political burglar's kit,' consisting of a card index, labelling and ticketing with elaborate cross references and cabinet data, every man in the United States who is in politics far enough to get to his state legislature, or to be a nominee of his party for county attorney.
This outfit, s.h.i.+pped in a score of great boxes, was dumped at the White House to-day, and it is said that a number of the cards indicating the reputation of certain so-called conservative senators and congressmen may be framed. There is a great hubbub in Was.h.i.+ngton, and the newspaper correspondents who called at the White House on their morning rounds were regaled by a confidential glimpse into the cards and the cabinets. It is likely that the whole outfit will be filed in the Department of Commerce and Labour, and will const.i.tute the basis of what is called around the White House to-day, a 'National Rogues' Gallery.' The complete details of every senatorial election held in the country during twelve years last past, showing how to reach any Senator susceptible to any influence whatsoever, whether political, social, or religious, are among the trophies of the chase in the hands of the Mighty Hunter for Big Game to-day.”
When General Ward had finished reading, he lifted up his gla.s.ses and said: ”Well, that's it, boys; John has come to his turn of the road.
Here's the rest. It says: 'The corporation in question is practically controlled by one man, the man who has placed the information above mentioned in the hands of the government. It is a corporation owning no physical property whatever, and is organized as a rebate hopper, if one may so style it. The head of the corporation stated when he was here recently that he is preparing to buy in every share of the company's stock at the price for which it was sold and then--' Jake, where is page 3 with the rest of this article on it?” asked the general.
”Why, I threw that away coming down here,” responded Dolan.
”Rather leaves us in the air--doesn't it?” suggested the colonel.
”Well, it's John. I know enough to know that--from Neal,” said the general.
The afternoon sun was s.h.i.+ning in the south window of the shop. Dolan started to go. In the doorway McHurdie halted him.
”Jake,” he cried, pointing a lean, s.m.u.tty finger at Dolan, ”Jake Dolan, if there are only two people in the world, what becomes of me when you begin talking to Mart? If you knew, you would not dodge. In philosophy no man can stand on his const.i.tutional rights. Turn state's evidence, Jake Dolan, and tell the truth--what becomes of me?”
”'Tis an improper question,” replied Dolan, and then drawing himself up and pulling down the front of his coat, he added, ”'Tis not a matter that may be discussed among gentlemen,” and with that he disappeared.
The front door-bell tinkled, and the parliament prepared to adjourn.
The colonel helped the poet close his store and bring in the wooden horse from the sidewalk, and then Molly Brownwell came with her phaeton and drove the two old men home. On the way up Main Street they overhauled Neal Ward. Mrs. Brownwell turned in to the sidewalk and called, ”Neal, can you run over to the house a moment this evening?”
And when he answered in the affirmative, she let the old nag amble gently up the street.
”How pretty you are, Aunt Molly,” exclaimed Neal, as the gray-haired woman who could still wear a red ribbon came into the room where he sat waiting for her. The boy's compliment pleased her, and she did not hesitate to say so. But after that she plunged into the subject that was uppermost in her heart.
”Neal,” she said, as she drew her chair in front of him so that she could see his face and know the truth, no matter what his lips might say, ”we're partners now, aren't we, or what amounts to the same thing?” She smiled good-naturedly. ”I own the overdraft at the bank and you own the mortgage at the court-house. So I am going to ask you a plain question; and if you say it isn't any of my business, I'll attempt to show you that it is. Neal,” she asked, looking earnestly into his face, ”why do you write to Jeanette Barclay every day of your life and not mail the letters?”
The youth flushed. ”Why--Aunt Molly--how did you know?--I never told--”
”No, Neal, you never told me; but this afternoon while you we're out I was looking for Adrian's check-book; I was sure we paid Dorman's bill last April, and that I took the check over myself. I was going through the desk, and I got on your side, thinking I might have left the check-book there by mistake, and I ran into the very midst of those letters, before I knew what I was about. Now, Neal--why?”
The young man gazed at the woman seriously for a time and then parried her question with, ”Why do you care--what difference can it make to you, Aunt Molly?”
”Because,” she answered quickly, ”because I wish to see my partner happy. He will do better work so--if you desire to put it on a cold-blooded basis. Oh, Nealie, Nealie--do you love her that much--that you take your heart and your life to her without hope or without sign or answer every day?”
He dropped his eyes, and turned his face away. ”Not every day,” he answered, ”not every day--but every night, Aunt Molly.”