Part 12 (1/2)

Shepherdstown, the spot where Mr. Benham said that his was a respected name--and he said quite truly, for he had managed to pay his debts as they fell due, and nothing was known against his character--lay in Puttock's const.i.tuency, and Benham thought it well to call upon his representative. The only secret part of his enterprise had been transacted with the Premier in Digby Square: for the rest, a plausible overtness of action was plainly desirable. He obtained an interview with Puttock, and laid before him his hopes and his qualifications. Mr.

Puttock was graciousness itself; he remembered, with grat.i.tude and surprising alacrity, his visitor's local services to the party; had he been still in office, it would have been his delight no less than his duty to press Benham's incontestable claims; he would have felt that he was merely paying a small part of the debt he owed Shepherdstown and one of its leading men, and would, at the same time, have enjoyed the conviction that he was enlisting in the public service a man of tried integrity and ability.

”Unhappily, however,” said Mr. Puttock, spreading out his plump hands in pathetic fas.h.i.+on, ”as you might conjecture, Mr.--” he glanced at the visitor's card--”Benham, my influence at the present juncture is less than _nil_. I am powerless. I can only look on at what I conceive to be a course of conduct fraught with peril to the true interests of New Lindsey, and entirely inconsistent with the best traditions of our party.”

”Your views are heartily shared at home,” responded Benham. ”Speaking in confidence, I can a.s.sure you of that, sir. Our confidence in the Ministry ended when you retired.”

”As long as my const.i.tuents approve of my action, I am content. But I am grieved not to be able to help you.”

”But, in spite of present differences, surely your good word would carry weight. My name is, I believe, already before the Premier, and if it was backed by your support----”

”Let me recommend you,” said Puttock sourly, ”to try to obtain Mr.

Norburn's good word. That is, between ourselves, all-powerful.”

Benham frowned.

”Norburn! Much Norburn would do for me.”

”Why, does he know you?” asked Puttock. ”Have you any quarrel with him?”

”There's no love lost between us. He organised my shearers when they struck two years ago.”

”What are you?”

”Sheep, sir. The fellow came down and fought me, and--well, sir, he said things about me that you'd hardly credit.”

”Oh, I hope,” said Puttock earnestly, ”that that would not influence his judgment. But, to be frank--well, it's common knowledge that Mr. Norburn and I found we could not work together.”

”But surely, sir, the Premier will take his own line?”

”I don't know. As likely as not, Norburn will have some Labour man to press.”

”Ah, if we could see you at the head of the Government!”

”I don't deny that I am deeply disappointed with the Premier's course of action--so deeply that I can give him no support.”

Mr. Benham remained silent for a minute, meditating. He perceived that, in case Medland proved unreasonable, a second string lay ready to his hand. He wondered how much Puttock already knew--and what he would pay for more knowledge. The worst of it was that Puttock had the reputation of being an uncommonly good hand at a bargain.

”Yet Mr. Medland's a very clever man,” he observed.

”Oh, clever, yes; but I fear unstable, Mr. Benham.”

”I suppose so. After all a man's private life is some guide, isn't it?”

”Some guide!” exclaimed Puttock. ”Surely you understate the case. If a man's private life is discreditable----”

”But would you go so far as that about the Premier?” inquired Benham, with a pained air.

”There's no smoke without fire, I'm afraid. It's a painful subject, and of course only a matter of rumour, but----”