Part 23 (1/2)

”Was there any particular reason for your not telling the truth?”

demanded the Mississippian in threatening tone.

”I told the truth,” replied Norton. ”You are interested in them.”

For an instant Langdon seemed about to step toward him, then he controlled himself.

”I didn't know it,” he said.

”You have several things to learn, Senator,” declared the Congressman.

”I have things to learn and things to teach,” he said. ”But go on. Why am I interested?”

”You are interested, Senator,” replied the trickster, making his big play, ”through your son, Randolph, who invested $50,000 of your money in Altacoola, and also through your daughter, Miss Carolina, who, acting on my advice, has put her own money--$25,000--in Altacoola land also.”

For a moment Langdon was speechless. It was too much at first for the honest old Southerner to comprehend.

”You mean,” he gasped at last, ”that you induce a boy to put $50,000 in Altacoola land when you knew I had to vote on the bill? And you even let my daughter put her money in the same scheme?”

”Of course, I did. It was a splendid chance, and I let your son in for friends.h.i.+p and your daughter because she has done me the honor to promise to become my wife.”

”What! You have my daughter's promise to marry you, you--”

”She admits it herself.”

”Then I reckon here's where I lose a prospective son-in-law,” sneered Langdon. ”But that's unimportant. Now, Norton, who's behind you?”

”I must decline to answer that.”

Langdon looked at him sternly.

”Very well,” he said. ”You are too small to count. I'll find out for myself. Now you go to my study and wait there until I send for you. I must be alone with my children.”

When Norton and Haines had left them, Langdon turned sadly to the two children who had disgraced him.

”Can you understand?” he said. ”Do you know what you've done to me?”

”What, father? We've done nothing wrong!” protested Carolina.

”They told me it was perfectly legitimate,” urged Randolph. ”They said everybody--Peabody and Stevens and the rest--were in it, and Peabody is the boss of the Senate.”

”Yes, my boy,” a.s.sented the old planter, ”he's the leader in the Senate, and that's the shameful part of all this--that a man of his high standing should set you so miserable an example.”

Randolph Langdon was not a vicious lad, not a youth who preferred or chose wrongdoing for the increased rewards it offered. He was at heart a chivalrous, straightforward, trustful Southern boy who believed in the splendid traditions of his family and loved his father as a son should a parent having the qualities of the old hero of Crawfordsville. Jealous of his honor, he had been a victim of Norton's wiles because of the Congressman's position and persuasiveness, because this companion of his young days had won his confidence and had not hesitated to distort the lad's idea of what was right and what was wrong.

Randolph began an indignant protest against his father's reproof when the Senator cut him short.

”Don't you see?” said the Senator. ”I can understand there being rascals in the outside world and that they should believe your careless, foolish old father lawful game, but that he should be thought a tool for dishonest thieving by members of his own family is incomprehensible.

”Randolph, my son, Carolina, my daughter, through all their generations the Langdons have been honorable. Your mother was a Randolph, and this from you! Oh, Carolina! And you, Randolph! How could you? How could you betray or seek to betray your father, who sees in you the image of your dear mother, who has gone?”