Part 22 (1/2)

”He can't be persuaded, threatened, or bought.”

”Then let's get him out of the way.”

”Kidnap him?”

”Decoy him gently from your path. The consul of a little seaport in South America has resigned, and at a word from me to Senator Hollis, who would pa.s.s it on to the President, this appointment could be given to your young bucker, and he'd be out of your way for at least three years.”

”That would be too good to be true, but he wouldn't bite at such bait.

His aspirations are all in a state line. He's got the usual career mapped out,--state senator, secretary of state, governor--possibly President.”

”You can never tell,” replied the congressman sagaciously. ”A presidential appointment, the alluring word 'consul,' a foreign residence, all sound very enticing and important to a young country man. The Dunne type likes to be the big frog in the puddle. This stripling you are all so afraid of hasn't cut all his wisdom teeth yet. It's worth a try. I'll tackle him.”

The morning after this conversation, as David walked down to the Judge's office he felt very lonely--a part of no plan. It was a mood that made him ripe for the purpose of the congressman whom he found awaiting him.

”I've been wanting to meet you for a long time, Mr. Dunne,” said the congressman obsequiously, after the Judge had introduced him. ”We've heard a great deal about you down in Was.h.i.+ngton since your defeat of the Griggs Bill, and we are looking for great things from you. Of course, we have to keep our eye on what is going on back here.”

The Judge looked his surprise at this speech, and was still more mystified at receiving a knowing wink from David.

After some preliminary talk the congressman finally made known his errand, and tendered David the offer of a consuls.h.i.+p in South America.

At this juncture the Judge was summoned to the telephone in another room. When he returned the congressman had taken his departure.

”Behold,” grinned David, ”the future consul of--I really can't p.r.o.nounce it. I am going to look it up now in your atlas.”

”Where is Gilbert?” asked the Judge.

”Gone to wire Hilliard before I can change my mind. You see, it's a scheme to get me out of the road and I--well I happen to be willing to get out of the road just now. I am not in a fighting mood.”

”Consular service,” remarked the Judge oracularly, ”is generally considered a sort of clearing house for undesirable politicians. The consuls to those little ports are, as a rule, very poor.”

”Then a good consul like your junior partner will loom up among so many poor ones.”

Barnabas was inwardly disturbed by this move from David, but he philosophically argued that ”the boy was young and 't wouldn't harm him to salt down awhile.”

”Dave,” he counseled in farewell, ”I hope you'll come to love some good gal. Every man orter hev a hearth of his own. This stretchin'

yer feet afore other folks' firesides is unnateral and lonesome.

Thar's no place so snug and safe fer a man as his own home, with a good wife to keep it. But I want you tew make me a promise, Dave. When I see the time's ripe fer pickin' in politics, will you come back?”

”I will, Uncle Barnabas,” promised David solemnly.

The heartiest approval came from Joe.

”That's right, Dave, see all you can of the world instead of settling down in a pasture lot at Lafferton.”

CHAPTER II