The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 22, 1903, Page 4

ressional com- ad nominated the Thirteenth of Wa the chafrman of the Con, mittee of the party that Bromley to stand in against Garwood. “1 have already sent my checks to the chairwan of each county committee in <hington good for, do ce out the v and t with her hande to her ace. had fled from the room, Dade heard vhe patier of her feet on the stairs as she risen to g ¥ er <kirts and soared aloft, payment of my assessments, Mr. McFar- ser surprise she looked out of lane,” the lawyer sald st length: tall man with a _ “Rure, ] know that, Judge,~ said Mc. d over his eyes, farlane. “but things is changed now—I < the lawn. He tell you you've got moren a fightin set on beating the chance to win out.” or. “You think this story of Mr. Garwood’s & ined the verarn at irreguiarities—his alleged irregularities o fore the bell ‘could bLe corrected himself with a lawyer's ab- . g to & e mald. As she surd habit of care in his words, “‘will se- e T ched her =ly impair his prospects, then? W'y, sure, why wouldn't it?’ MeFar- t sailing ac Jane urged. “We can make it “But t t the door “Ah, make it,” observed Bromley. Miss de Freese. Miss how, if you will oblige me? You mu she's ill and Ist vie- pardon my lack of knowledge of the—ah— z with heh. i chnigue of politics, Mr. McFarlane. ~ sorrv—and M “Oh, that's all right, Judge,”” McFarlane o Garwood. hastened to say with a reassuring gener— He'll be osity of soul. “How'il we make it? Why. p into the drawing- ¢ smiled, but with a little itician, who seem though use jt—that's how; we'll make Jerry de- fend his record in the House. \‘\:P']l gret the people to see it—that’s how. “But will the people believe it? They are slow, vou know, to believe these sto- ries of boodling. as I believe it s cal'. The newspapers have a good deal (5 say of it from time to time. but I doubt if the jcople take it much more seriously than the rest of the current and conventional jokes of the press. Do you think they'il believe {t? That question occurs to me as 1 "tell paointed.” room She we v i left my hat material at this point of our g . Believe it! Do vou think these farmers i . that Emily und here'd refuse to believe thing s r . en vou tell 'em the corporat is be- . s H otc - Eind 17 Dom't you think they won't be- o T e sn s r smile of th “You have no doubt, then, of itd authen- n‘yn‘{x me. sir; course, ] don't .say as to that. d be down ‘s a good fellow all right enough. I She 1 of the Toom, Lin'{ sayin’, between ourselves, what he more PErplex- gone at Springfield—it's none o' my busi- were already ac- 500C Sou Know. for him. 1 ‘presume not.” se to Emily's wyiy ought to know as tauch about it oom & by her doar, v, Judge. You're a corp'ra- r b wm-‘! );‘ :n’fl‘lfl' vou've been to Springield - S SEREADS ed and the natural rud- n she WeNt ginece of his realthy skin showed under “ - his white beard a Jeeper hue. “1 have only been there to appear in the Supreme or the Appellate Court, Mr. McFariane: 1 have no concern with any legislative lobbying my clients may do, il they do an *Oh. sure- scuse me, Judge—that's done by the Chicago lawyers, of course; didn’t stop to think.” 'McFarlane had aimost settled himself in his chair, but at thie contretemps he leaned forward again and then, wishing to give the action the effect of interest rather than of embar- rassment, he hastened on: reeption Jation he would for the time As he “But that ain’t all, by a long shot. You know Sprague—Con Sprague? “The incumbent? Of course.” ‘Well, vou know. Jerry beat him for renomination, or Jim Rankin did” it fer un. Garwood had promised Sprague to finishing 0. ©€ Polk County delegation fer 'im, opponent he gument. And e =avs, and, well, Rankin turned a trick x =vmpaihy for @t the Clinfon convention that euchred s given to the ue out of the nomination. Course, mself; 1if th ed round and tried to square 't walking home in’ the legislative nomination to Guced on the Spragre’'s brother-in-law. Hank Wilson; but still, Sprague’s sore.” “He i7" ¢ You bet he is. He hasn't lifted a fin- er in the whole campalgn, an’ I heered ears whatever low he became a presence and anding in the last night from Al Granger, who's over the ball. parting Sullivan, that his fellows over there trembling hands. spenly knifing Garwood and that gives ook a step a chance to carry Moultrle. Wel i to meet him, McFarlane paused to swallow, “we caa v hands, she took tarry DeWitt heré—it's your home county rme; s turned him half —and the majority against us is less than . e light might fall full in a Lundred; we have a good chance in & =he let her Piatt, an’ they're shaky about Logan, he could m ticularly down in Millwood To'nehip. d intended to rwood had a meetin’ there the other sky at which was a frost—a change of a 2w € hundred an’ fifty votes an' you've got A rome—1 new t!” ‘em. AWhy, T tell you, man, it's the A € k elf against his chance of your life. You can win out. east s abodt her McFarlane spoke with the enthusiasin I T eve it for one little of that confidence into which a politician her, can work himself when he begins to jug- gle the handy figures of old election re- turns and some of his warmth was com- munjcated (o the candidate, who felt his blood tingle and his heart rise in antici- pation. He had never allowed himself tc think of the possibility of his election un- til that moment; but that moment was the fatal one that comes to every candi- Gaté ut a certain stage in his campaign when he begins to indulge in dreams of victory. And_ yet Bromley was a wary man and he shrank again in his habit of t t moment. she whis stant! I er the masses Jasper working was Einging now after in his live in as- ng on the divan, de an he morning was g ial deliberation. n him, out of the half-aff k _encouragingly, Mr. McFar- m ty Garwood loved' to have h id, “but 1 do not quite share ¢ mbst men do, because of the your confidence. 1 am not the man to in- superior intelligence it dulge in illusions. You realize, of course, that I took the nomination at some sacri- a roorback?” fice, merely for the sake of the party. ie was sl t r a moment and then I had no thought of being elected with eid district organized as it is under the pr A Toor dear, is a lie told because ent apportionment act.” s of politics.” “Yes, 1 know, they carved the district es necessary in_politics?” out for Sprague in their last gerrymander, ways, it seems.” he said. an’ thep Sprague got thrown down f« ihe nomination—that's why he's so sore. What plan do you propose?” “Well,” said McFarlane, *“just what I told yo We ought to poll every county in the district, make a“separate an’ dis- tinct poll fer ourselves, independent of the county committees, and then—get out the vote. 1t'll take money, of course.” Judge Bromley was tapping his pencil lightly. on the desk. “Do you think I should make a personul canvass of the district?"” McFarlane hesitated. “Well,” he said, “that might be a gned thing a little later.” He locked at the re had taken on the s maturity sat drawing littie pad of paper. perousness w nt of his law n person, for modern metropoiitan rather than the fashion de v in central Illinois, where floor, a flat table apd = rough set helves bearing up Blackstone and .nd Starkie and the Ili- Judge's clothes, made by a Chicago tailor, 2 4 reports, were considered as he_supposed, though they were made £u His slivery hair was by a New York tailor; at his red caraa- with a half bang over his ad and his gray beard was as d as his hair; in the lapel t that set his shoulders T carnation. He wore very day; where he tion; at his rimless pince-nez, and thought of his campaigning in the rural districts. “But my idee fer the present 'uld be a still bunt. We can work up to the brass band and the red fire gradually and wind up in a blaze o’ glory after we get ‘em r a mystery to the peo- on the run. See? “How much will all this cost?” had_resigned from the “Oh, well, now, that's a question. of the Circult Court to become the v of a rallroad that ran up the central portion of he local attorney for & number of other roads. His railroads would have been pleased to have him in Congress, no doubt, though they would have preferred to have him on the bench the U d States Court. And it was with this prospect in velled view that he had consented to run for Congress in a district where the normal majority was greatly sgainst him, knowing that his sacrifices would commend him to the ad- ministration at Washington in case the retional ticket of his party was succese Course the boys ain’t in politics fer the'r health, an’ the more money we have the more— Bromley, at this bald suggestion of a raid on his pocketbook, flushed, this time angrily. He dropped his peneil and tight- ened his first, laying the thick of it heav- ily on the edge of his desk. Then he wheeled around and said, his eyes con- tracting behind his rimless aristocratic glasses: “Look here, McFarlane, this must be a plain business proposition. T have no bar- rel, as you call it,'—though McFarlane had sald nothing about a barrel—"‘and 1've already given all I can afford to the cam- paign. 1 weuld be willing, perhaps, as a further sacrifice to the party and my principles, to increase my contribution, but I'd want to know just what was done with it; I'd want every bill audited by a responsible committee; I'd want it ail ed properly and effectively; in other words, 1I'd expect results—do you under- Another man sat with Bromley f yrivate office that October m?rninxn ll"l‘vs‘ at tentatively, if not timidly, on the edge of his chair, for the conversation had not veached s of confidential e lawyer's part as warrant- lounging at more familiar ther depths McFarlane and he was “Oh, course, Judge, just as you shy. ubens Infant Shir AWord to Mothers Life Preserver for Your Little Ones. Not a Child Should Be Without It. Ti's your campaign, you know. I'm only showin’ you where you can win out, that's all. If You don’t care nothin® about goin’ to Congress—why, all right. It needn't cost much.’ L o “Bgt how much, that’s the question? demanded Bromley. *Ob, well, three or four thousand, per- haps: maybe five. Hell! J can't teil ex- ctly. It's po cinch, the amount ain’t. A couple o’ thousand ‘uld do fer a starter, till we could teil how she developed.” Bromley received McFarlane's estimate in silence and looked somewhere out of Lis window for Fu{]purl. McFarlane sat and eved him keen “Has Garwood any means?” the lawyer asked presently and then immediately an- swered hi= own question by observing: “I suppose mot. though: his practice, as 1 suppose he calls it, is confined to the personal injury business.” The Judge said this with a corporation lawyer's contempt for one who has no money and whose is confined to the speculative of persopal injury cases. No, Jerry" ,"'. said McFarlane. “Bui T hear it rumored that old Kthan Harkness's puttin’ up some fer 'im.” “‘Ethan Harkness? The banker over at y =hould he provide means for Gar- campaign?” h, don't ask me—that's what the boys Seems to me, though, | heerd sonie- about Jerry's gom' to marry his thin’ daughter.” “H-m-m-m!" he was silent for a while. the Judge said, and then “Somebody would have to put up fer ‘im,” McFarlane continued. “I hear he hain't paid none o' his campaign assess- ments yet, an’ that hain't helpin’ him none. That'll be another thing in yorr favor, t Judge—umjess old Harkness does hear an' heed the Mac'donian cry.” B hardly imagine Ethdn Harkness giv- ing away money for any purposc, much less a purpose of that sort,” sald the Judge, with the first rwinkle in his eye that had sparkled behind his lenses since McFariane had mentioned money. “And 1 don't Pplace much credence in that story about Garwood’'s wedding Miss Harkness. The Harknesses are really a very ygood family, as I remember to have heard, Mrs. Broniley say.” McFKarlane did not care o venture on the unsafe ground of societv, and so was silent. The Judge, too, was silent. He was pondering. “Well, Mr. McFarlane,” length, “I'll consider your suggestion carefully, and you may call fc-morrow morning, if you will be so good, when I shall have a conclusion for you.” The Judge looked at Mciarlane with the glance that terminates the interviews of a busy man, especially a man Lusy in corporation interests, where the personal equation may be largely ignored, and walted for McFarlane to leave. “M(‘Furlane went down the stairs, chuck- ng. '51« took the bit all right,” he sald to the man who was waiting for him. “Let’s &0 have a nice little drink.” XIL Ethan Harkness was sitting in his library, as the architect who had remod: eled his old house had name:l the plea: ant apartment that opened off the livin, room. Here, out of deferance to the idea, Emily had ler books, as well as the few her father read, disposed wupon low shelves; and here the old man passed his hours at home, because, he loved to say, in his whimsical pretenze that he was ia the way, ke would bpthar no one. His habit was to sit here evely evening and smoke his Ogar over his newspaper. Perhaps he would read some pook Emily had urged upon him, though he never liked the books she recommended Once in every vear he read ScotlLs novels through, at least he was one of thus: per- sons of whom that highly coiored tale told. Emily, in her new appreciaton of he raid at the realistic, had joined in Lhc cultured revolt against the ‘romanti: school, and would not own to the least respect for Scott. Once in a while, when her father, in his devices to induce her to read the Wizard, would complain of nis eyes hm'(': ing him, and ask her to read ‘Rob Roy’ to him, she would do so until he nodded. and then when he had gene to bed, Would take the book to her room and read until the house was still and cold with the si- lence and chill of midnight, so that she was afrald to move. But such occasions she declared to be literary debauches, and would tell her father at breakfast that she was ashamed of herself. He was sitting thus one evening, under the lamp, its soft mellow light failing on his silver hair: his glasses far down upon his high-bridged nose, his book held up before them. He breathed heavily as he read, and Emily, pausing an instant in the doorway, gazed upon him, thinking, with a love ‘that to her had a touch of pathos, of all his kindly ways. “All alone, as usual?’ she said. The old man took off his glasses slowly, closed his book upon them to mark his place, and then looked gravely up, wait- ing for her to speak. “Father,” she said, “I've something to tell you. The tone was one to alarm the old man, and he sighed. He had reached the time of life when he dreaded change, and her tone had the note of change in it. She sat down in a little rocking-chair before him, knitting her fingers together, her white hands lying in her tap. Her eyes were fixed upon a ring that sparkled on her finger—a ring that Garwood had bought, on credit, at Maxwell, the jew- eler’s, that morning. Harkness walted for her”’to speak with the same gravity with which he had waited for Garwood to speak an evening long ago, when the voung man had ventured in upon him, trying to assume a dignity the beating of his heart threatened, just as the beatin of the old man’s heart now threatene: the gravity assumed. h there was a difference; the old man was aware that it was not well for him that his heart should beat as it was beating in that moment. “Father,” the girl said, twirling the ring on her finger, the light from the lamp flashing a dozen spectra from the facets of the diamond, “Jerome and I are going to be married.” The old man made no reply. “'S8oon,” she added, thinking he had not caught the full significance of her words. “Socn,” he sald, in hollow repetition. But he did not turn his head or move. He had expected it some day; he had even wished it, for in his old-fashioned conservatism he did not ke to think of Emily as an old maid, but he had hoped that it would be a day long in coming. Emily raised her eyes and looked at him. His hair seemed whiter, “his face suddenly older, he appeared so lonely. As she looked, a tear oozed from his eve and slid down his cheek and beard. And then she leaned forward, folded her arms on his knees, pillowed her head upon them and WQ{)L ‘The old man placed his hand upon her colls of hair, patting them softly. But he was silent. The mood passed, the old man possessed himself, laid his book on the table, and sighed with relief, as if at the end of some painful scene. He grew rest- less, but the girl held him; drew closer, embraced him passionately at the last, and cried: . “But T won't leave vou. father, T won't —T won't. T1t'll be just the same for us— tell me it will!” The old man smiled. . yes,” he sald, “that part of it '1l right. But tell me—what's the father, there {sn't any rush— only, don't you know how every one's against him just now? “Humph!” he said. “Not if the reports of his meetings is correct, they hain't.” “Well, T know; but they tell such sto- ries about him, and this horrible roorback —isn't that what they call it?” % “Depends on who you mean by they, * he answered. “Well, you know.” she said, in the as. sumption that avoided e: luutionsh “I want to show them that I believe in him, anywa; “That's like you, Em,” he said. smiling at her. “It's like your mother, too.” She was touched by this. He seldom ¢poke of her mother. And she drew nearer to him, and ran her fingers fondly through his white hair. ““Have you been thinking of her?’ she asked, with a tender reverence. “‘Some—to-night,” he said. ‘“‘She stuck up for me once.” And then he was eilent again. The girl, with the impatience -of vouth, tried to coax - hi away from his sad humor, and assumed a happy tone, :hou(h she blinked to keeo her ears. “‘Oh, it won't be for a long time. really father—not till fall. not till after election. anyway. And it shan’t make any differ- ence, shall it? No. we'll all be so hanpy together. You and Jerome can play cards in the evening—and it'll be ever so :-mch the liveller in this big, empty old ouse." / The old man conceived the picture she imagined for him, but one of his gro- tesque humors came upon him. “D've think Motker Garwood 'll ke the board?’ he asked. “Father!” Emily protested, “you'd joke at a faneral!” XTI ‘The seven members of the sional committee, assembled in Jud P,,“’"‘"i’," b(;mcpih“:: m l‘ circle aroun e wall, beneath the pictures of Chief Justice Marshall, of Danlel Webster, and “that THE SUNDAY CALL of Blackstone,” reflecting in their faces, with a studied effort that pained them. the serfousness of these jurists. They sat tn silence, looking now and then one at another, or most of all at McFarlene, the chairman, who by virtue of his office sat nearest the roll-top desk of the Judge, and, out of a disposition to show the ease of his footing with the candidate, carelessly swung back and forth the re- volving ‘bookcase, which croaked under its load of the lllinois reports and Kin- ney's Digest. The members of the committee were smoking cigars from a box the Judge had provided, a box of five-cent domestic cigars, which fouled the atmosphere of the private office with their thick white smoke. The smoke from the Havana cigar the Judge himself was SMOKINg wriggled upward in a blue wraith from the white hand that held it. and the Judge only raised the cigar to his lips o’ten enough to keep it alight, and as if to aid his mental processes. These pro- cesses were doubtless profound, for he bent his head, and wrinkled his brow, and looked intently at the silver- mounted furnishings of his desk. He had already sat there what seemed to the walting politiclans a long time, and had not moved. But at last he dropped the erasér with which he had been p‘a%'- ing while he thougnt, and, lightly touch- ing the revolving bookecase, for its swing and cregk made him nervous, he gave a Judicial cough. v “T have asked you to meet here, gen- tlemen,” he began, half turning in his swivel chair, “to discuss some features of " my campaign. You. ali of vou, no doubt, were apprised, at the convention of our party. of the reluctance I felt in accepting the nomination; vou, all of you, are aware, at what personal sacri- fice T consented to allow my name to be used, o that it is unnecessary for me to ?‘ll(‘u‘l'! this feature of the case at this me. The Judge said this impressively. with his brows lowered, as if he were charg- ing a jury. - d “Up to” this time it has not seemed to me advisable to make an active per- sonal canvass, and as yocu know, Ihave not done so, preferring to leave to you the execution of such plans as might suggest themselves to the consideration of yvour—ah—excellent committee. But recently eVents have developed that in- duce me to alter any resolutions I may have formed to continue in such a course. You, all of you, are acquainted with these cvents, much better acquaint- ed, 1 may say, than I, so that I need not touch upon them ih detall. Within the last two or three weeks 1 have noticed that a strong undercurrent of public opinion has set in toward our ticket.” he Judge illustrated the undercurrent by moving his hand gracefully aléng at a horizontal plane above the floor. “If 1 understand the temper of our people, and the prevailing signs of the times, they are ready for a change in the guid- ance of their affairs—to be brief, T think we have an excellent chance to You bet we have, Judge,” broke in Hadley, from Tazewell. The Judge raised his head and,looked his surprise at Hadley, as if to resent the interruption, and the members of the committee turned and looked at Had- ley severely. Murch, who sat next Had- ley, drove an elbow into the man's ribs, and Hadley's bronzed face became a deeper shade. “‘As 1 observed,” said Bromiey, anxious his observation be not lost, “I think we have an excellent chance of winning, better than we have had in any Congressional campaign within my mem- ory. ‘The Judge paused here to let the con- viction that his own personality had produced this unusual political condition sink into the minds of his auditors. And then he resumed. “If you have followed me thus far, gentlemen, you will be prepared for the announcement I am about to make.” He paused again impressively. “l have determined, gentlemen, to en- ter upon the prosecutivn of a vigorous personal campaign. In short, I shall take the stump.” He stopped, and looked around him. The committeemen, not expecting him to leave off in his address so “soon, were not prepared for its end, and so had to bestir themselves and simulate a proper appreciation of the effect of his announcement. McFarlane murmured some sort of approval, and his words were repeated around the circle. Judge Bromley leaned back in his chair, with his elbow on his desk. 1 shall take the stump,” he repeated, showing his love for the phrase, which he had been accustomed to see in news- papers all his days when the doings of eminent politiclans were chronicled, “and have determined to open my campaign in Mr.—ah—Garwood’'s own . county, in his own town, Grand rie. I believe you are the committ n for Polk County, Mr. Funk, are you not?” He turned to a lank ‘man leaning his long body forward, his sharp elbows on his knees, who now looked up languidly. “Me! I reckon I am,” he’ said. “Very well,” the Judge continued, ‘“‘can we arrange for a meeting in your county?” “‘Reckon we can,” replied Funk, “if we can ralse the price."” The Judfe scowled. “We shall, of course, provide for that,” he said. Af the words Junk straighten- ed up, and a revival of interest was ap- parent in the other members of the sroup. “What would you suggest—an open-air meeting?” “Don’t know as I would,” said Funk. “Open - alr meetin's is dangerous— mightn't be enough turn out to fili all out-doors. Course, we might have a torch-light percession, to draw a crowd —if we had the torches and a band.” “That can be. arranged,”’ said the Judfir, “‘Might have the meetin’ in_the op'ra house,” Funk went on. “What d've think, Neal?” he deferred to McFarlane. “Seems to me the op'ra house would * saild McFarlane. “‘That, of course, is a matter to be considered,” sald Bromley. ‘‘But at any rate, I wish to have meetings announced in all the counties.” e The silence which had oppressed the members of the commiitee having been broken by the words of Fuck and Mc- Farlane, the conversation became gen- eral, and grew in interest until McFar- lane voiced the burden that lay at the bottom of all their hearts by saying: “Judge, how ’bout the funds? You know what we was sayin’ the other day.” ‘‘Yes, saild Bromley, “I recall our con- versation. 1 shall meet all legitimate ex- pemses—ah—as they arrive.” There was an instant depreciation of interest, and when the men filed down the stairs half an hour later, McFarlane again voiced the burden of their hcarts by _saying: ““He's goin’ to hold onto his pile, boys. All bills to be paid on vouchers signed by the Auditor and presented to the Treasurer.” McFarlane liked to recall to his friends his_six menths in the State House, and spoke at times in the language of the bills he had enrolled and engrossed so often during that experience. “‘Well, a Jawyer that tries his own case has a fool for a client,” sald Mason, “and it's thataway 'ith s candidate that manages his own campalgn.” Bromley ‘had been led to his resolution to take the stump by two incidents. One, the first, occurred at Chicago. He had gone there to attend a banquet of the tate Bar Assoclation, and had made a speech. Though he had been accustomed to the courtroom all his life, and had spoken much to jurles, and oftener to courts, he was deliberate and judicial, rather than epideictic, and had acquired the dry, sophistical manner of speaking which comes to those happy and dis- tinguished lawyers whose causes are heard with more sympathy by the solemn Judges of the courts of appeal than' by the jurles in the nisi prius courts, and he had shrunk from popular oratory. But at the bar banquet, having drunk wine, he spoke at length, and as he progressed so loved the sound of his own voice, that when he sat down he found himself for the first time in his life in an oratorical perspiration. And then, be- fore the flush of his intellectual activity had left him, ideas more brilliant than those he had while on his feet came to him in such profusion that he had longed to repeat his effort. He felt that he could do n% much better. though he felt that he had done weil, for the long board, sweeping away with itz glistening 5'"" and surrounded by so many rud- y men in brave shirt-fronts, had run round with applause. To crown his trilumph the man next to him had said: ‘‘Judge, why don’t you take the stump?”’ : 3 The words had coursed gladly through his veins like the wine ne had drunk. He felt that he had found himself at last. sense Of triumph had not alte- left him by the next morning, and e sat at his late Ereakfast at his ing an account of the banquet -, his name had’ suddenly ped to his eyes out of all the thou- sands of words ed on the page, and ‘he read 'th:h gu%. a dlsufltch from hd reviewed political con- tions in the State. S XL “\What's more? repeated Sprague nodding. “This Is a t id")’(.;n\‘ e We've ot a fe € County, and. while they e a little 1usty an’ out o' use, they're long, an’ thay're deadly, an’ we'll get ‘em out at opce an run ‘em into that brother-'n-law o' yourn bout that fur--* *Rankin measured off the sickening dis with his right its size alarmed Rankin more than ho wouid admit. He had his fun out of it of course, saying that Bromley, like al. the rich, wouid do better to let hix money talk for him, and assuring Brom- lev's ‘party workers that the opening of his fountains of eloquence meant the closing of his barrel. He made the di covery, too, that the Judge, while on his campaign tour, slept in silken ‘pa- The paragraph devoted to the Thir- teenth Consressional District said among other things: “Judge Bromley thus far has not taken the stump, and the impression is general that he is conscious of hiz own limita- tions as an orator. In the Supreme Court, ,arguing a case for some of his wealthy cllents, he is perfectly at home, but he'fis not the kind of man that takes tweo can play at over in Polk on the stump before a promiscuous jamas, and he made much of this in a tance on his left a crowd. Realizing this, the astute mana- peals to the prejudices of the farme: hand at the elbow. a4 Rankin gers of his campaign have kept the knowing how this symbol of the luxury An' turn ‘em r-n:fvu A Judge at home and are making a still of Bromley's life would affect them. (Wisted his fist ~..\AKF!~ a ed some hunt. Meanwhile, young Jerry Garwood., Rankin dubbed him “Pajamas” Brom- the vengeful deed he had and b who has oratorical powers of a high ley, and the stigma stuck. and yet h. of his excitement to master ) over order, and who has unsuccessfully tried was too wise to believe that he could rose now and steod hanging Over to draw Bromley into a joint debate, is overcome the effect of Bromley's money Sprague with a menace in_tue »LD'“L e speaking " nightly 'to big audlences all by mere words and names. ~This was bis _shoulders and the stretch of over the Distri why he made the trip over to Sullivan neck - 2 The Judge grew angry as he read to .iea Spmgup,m 5 “Now you know 'h-vvhvv.i:n- hd"ufn this, and he made his resolve in He found Sprague sitting in his law Drought me here. Con Spraguve, = a7 thal .our. A few. days later. oftice, reading # newspaper in the idle- Went on. “I come over te tell CRIS F0 When the excitement of his Success at ness of a country Jawyer. a cuspidor Miison. but I thought it ‘uld be fair t¢ the bar banquet had left him, and he placed conveniently near. Sprague was tell you first. I'm goin' over to l\:‘ . imagined himself speaking to JOStlNg a large man. with a tousled mass of 40 fhen I'm goin® back home. Now. [0 thousands before him, under the flare gray hair. and a short, shaggy heaa YOUr brother-n-law wants (3.30 to the and swirl of torches' vellow flames, he burnished by the red of its youth, Legislature. just you get out an’ make & would turn cold with fear. But he Was though it was now lightenea by gray, [¢W speeches fer Garwoed. an "(';H:,, 4 determined man, and he could not re- He wore, after the older professiona. Y Urself. an’ you him pai y'ur o sist the pleasing sound of the words jdeal, a long. black frock coat. tpough OVer here to work. an’ you > ie In_two that announced his intention to take the that he did not go thoroughly into the 98¥% Tl wateh you an' if ¥ou don’t do was duly made, detalls of sartorial effects was shown it Ll Say wivk (‘,'}n":“:"’w',‘,:ff P eattee, that he DY the muddy tan shoes that cocked FO, K70 ineir distrust of anything his their worn heels on'the edge of British, have substituted for the English would open his speaking tour In Grand Prairie, with some more hrases, nrad S . man's plump an’ the boy«'ll send a d 4 i . o Sprague had once been corfsid : P reantative (o DA equally pleasing to him. about “throwing ovaq a clever man; when admitte rqxpo:ilv) o g t:L”\-“u 'h r?p‘r' Km“ down the gauntlet,” and ‘‘carrying the har pe was ope of those @ :’ wo our brothe: . either war into the enemy’s country.” whom it is said, Over® in Grand Prairie. Jim Rankin ..t ¥ = Sprague’'s face blackaned. He knew read” the announcement with Elee: out il 3y UKE many Such SpERgie had nar dangerous possibility in cumutative on Sangamon avenue. Emiiy Harkness gng “had been content to use the su- ‘OI/NE but he said nothing read it, and clenched her little fists, ¥ay- perficial scquirements which had given i GoL ask jou (o0 any smswer. ng to herself that It ‘was' an: mperth' him » pizee fn the debating soclety or Smo VOB vl st 2% you demn fence In Browieyfo come inta Jetemes. tno: Ofilo_collegh- ha. fuid attended. be- - SIYOU, YU 4% O M8 s Beallo Garwond read It watn concarn, fore going out to Illinois to “locate.” ar "' hen Rankin went away. He made SELGR Al e S W e etile the phrase was, without strengthening 1, "C '’y Wilson S g wondering what it could mean: while {yon by newer studies. While waiting O > ; 4 away over in the Galesburg District, on > back in Grand Prairie. for a law practice he haa gone into poli- a train that was rolling out of Mon- o7 @ tor s uF tacar = mouth. ' Charley' Cowley, the Courler's (e air'BLitTotgn (' Biad “Soutd heln Eoh political correspondent, who had written 0 S pol profession, and uitimately In the early twilight of a Saturday af- the paragraph in his Springfield dispatch ternoon late in October Garwood walked at Rankin's request, showed his teeth when his political duties interfered su up Kaskaskia street from the station in constantly with his legal duties that he in that odd smile of his. And up in o D, © i ¢ . .could not attend to such practice as a cold. sullen rain, conscious of but one Ghicago. in the breakfast-raom of Ne came to him. as a means of livelihood sensation—he was glad _that ouly one e FAL L R T el = in itself. Thus his law omce became in Mmore week of the eam n r 1 committee of the party Judge Bromley r " s 3 time but a background ‘or ht career He walked with long, deliberate represented read it and swore to bim- {n"Sopvic P 0r IOa oy AIiIamt ot (he Toik. wiiel Rt beaten “Phe damn fool! first; he had gone to the Legislature down his wide hat brim and trickled off AR A1 and once to Coggress. Now in his de- it, before a behind, In litie streams X1V Ifeah with only the Femnant of his loose- His Ira. m’nlrr th ose. .Pl'r.‘aé,?::’gad aves, e ; y organized following left to him. he Was long and serious: rightened, aut- In the calm October days that followed, f, 2.0, (2NN (R % b o° omaticaily. only when he met some pe- mysterious and subfle forces were &t tion which _diseppointment works in destrian o whom In bhis capacity as a york all over the Thirteenth District weak naturee, and gave promise of didate, he involuntarily ~spoko & souring altogether. greeting. changes gold, own e arwood had come home responsa fields :‘ercmtegigda:v(:lhaullgpaézen?'vel— Spragpe did not rise when Rankin en- ;’?»;t;‘m“;‘n‘.,!f‘ Hankin & telegram low corn; in and out among the stubble, tered. LOr even remove mis feet from o L 8" 0 O tiated cuch an urgency and along the sides of the black roads, Dis desk. But he ula lay his paper in [Foch HE CHOPRBREEC o ton words still dry and velvety from the summer's NI long lap, then slowly taking the .f 8 oy led wany miles s warmth, brown prairfe-chickens rustled black-rimmed eve-glasses from his nose. g.Tlioi over cou »ads and by covertly, and over all, over the fields, 2nd dangling them at the end of their ¥ 00 “Grana Prairie at night. the woods, the roads and the scattercd tali@led and knotted cord. he said: just as the twilight was dark towns, the blue sky bent with a haze Jim; where'd you come ihe lights were beginning to s in that had melapcholy reminiscences of . - » - the stores along Main street, he turmed the lost spring, and the benediction of Just landed in,” replied Rankin, pull- j;t, the Lawrence block and climbed to peaceful autumn. ing up a cane-seated chair and dropping his office. The office was dark: young Emily sitting in the sunlight that Enright, who was reading law under streamed through the tall bay windows s him, had gone into the country to make of her room, stitched away on her white said Rankin, rocking one of the political speeches he wodding garments, dreaming in her forth, “damned important was proud of L..-.m been asked to smiles of the new life that was just open- deliver that _fall; the typwriter had ing to her, picturing Garwood, a great, closed her desk and gome, and her strong man, fighting the baltles of his b . Ittle clock was ticking lonesomely be- country, just as his old mother, sitting Sprague. moved by the snapping tone, cide her little vase of fowers. But in with her knitting by her low window, twisted his body and looked squarely at his private room, Garwood found Rankin wrinkling her brow as she lifted her eyes Rankin. He made a movement of his sitting with his fect on the window-sill now and then over her spectacles to gaze legs as if he would take his feet down. |ooking abstra down into the street on her withering flower-beds in the lit- , “Yes. that's it,” Rankin weSt on, where the lights from the store-windows tle vard, pictured him as a little boy, “and you're the man I come to see.” wriggled in many lines acyoss the canal {;!u}‘lng on the floor, charming her with Sprague driopped his feet to the floor, of mud. is precocious speeches, swung his chair half around on one of sarwood took off his hat, lashed it Amid all this beauty and mysgery, men its legs and as it came down he pack and forth to get the water off, and were fighting one another, bribing, de- brought it into a position directly fac apped it down on the top of his desk ceiving and coercing ona another, in or- ing Rankin. He looked at his caller al- And then he said, in a voice that was der that the offices of the republic might most angrily for an instant, but adopt arse be taken from one set of men and turned ing the mdre peaceful tone in .which he t's t erything's over to another set of men. This con- Wwould have addressed a new client, he I s . dition prevailed over all the land. Every- sa ; i 1 just want to talk where men left work to talk and shout , what can I do for you with “Have a good of this great battle, all of them pretend- 11 tell you,” sald Rankin, “since meetin' last ing, of course, that they did this for the that's what I come for. You can get ‘Oh, firs made a poor speech, good of those whom they were vilifying out and do something to nelp land Gar- though. I is, I'm about done up. and hating and accusing; claiming that wood.” God it'll be over in another week, the country would be lost unless their Sprague puckered his lips, turned his Don't know that own side " won. For Instance, Judge head away and whisded reflectivety 1 care is sentence was broken by a Bromley had laid aside his dignity and The whistle was a series of low, tu cough_that shook him was traveling all over ihe counties that less notes, and was irritating to Ran- Rankin turned and tried to distinguish made up the Thirteenth Congresslonal kin, who, though a fat man, developed his features. District of Illinois, urging peopie to vote nerves at times. ‘e here, Jerry said the big fel for him because Garwood, as he charged, “Well, Jim,” said Sprugue at last, “you've got a cold—you'd best go while a member of the Legislature, T!ad “you know that I haven't beem taking down and have Chris mix you a hot ted.” accepted a bribe. The Judge did not any active interest in this campaign.” “Oh, I'm all rizht’* ‘sald Garwood, know whether this was true or not, but ‘No, that's just the trouble,” said aping his throat. “Go on with your he used all the powers he had culti- Rankin, ou haven't. But some o of woe.™ vated in his four years in college, his your fellers has, an’ I want you to call began Rankin with evident re- three years in the law school, his life- ‘em off.” “l hate to tell you, but the time at the bar and on the bench, to Sprague stopped whistling and looked , we've got to have some money, make people believe it was so; and he at Rankin. an’ I don’t know where it's comin” from gave, though not so freely, of the money “Of course. Jim,” he sald, “what some I've spent all we had. an’ more, too, an He had made by these same talents of of my friends may be doing I don't I've held up everybody here in town till persuasion and dissimulation, to organize know. They seem to think, some of I've squeezed 'em dry. They don’t like clubs that would bind men to believe it. them, that they have cause for dissat- to glve to us anyway; most of 'em has the same time Garwood was go- isfaction the way I was treated at the already contributed to the county fund, ing up and down, urging people to vote Clinton convention.” an’ they think that's emough. [ can't for him because his opponent was the “Oh, come off, now,” said Rankin, W all the county funds fer you: the paid attorney of the same corporation “You know that won't go 'ith me, Con. wdidates Is kickin® already; they say which Bromley said had giyen the bribe; You know how much chance you ever I've been meglectin’ fer you, an’ it and using all his talents to make peopla believe him instead of Bromley. Much of this was sdid under the guise of dis- cussing the tariff question; as to whether the people could be made the happler by taxing one another much or little; though neither side could have had the happiness of the people at heart, for, in all the national turmoil, both sides were doing all they could to defeat and huini- liate those who differed from them in opinion on little details of government. Meanwhile a change as subtle and as mysterious as that of autmun was going on in the feelings of men over the cut- come of this great conflict. " In the Thirteenth District, from belfeving that Garwood would be elected, they began to believe that he would be defeated. No one could explain or analyze this change of sentiment, but his opponents were gladdened by it, and hi¢ adherents sad- dened by it; many of them wavered In their belief in him and in their adherence 1 to him, being drawn by a desire to be on the’ winning side. Rankin was one of the first to per- ceive this change. His political sensi- bilitles were acute from long training, he could esfimate public sentiment ac- curately, and early in the campaign he had warned Garwood that before election the day would come when they would feel that they were losing ground: he had hoped that it would come early in the campaign, but now that it had come, with but three weeks in which to over- come its effects, Rankin carefully kept the, fact from Garwood. The letters that he wrote him, the telegrams he sent him, the advice he gave when Garwood came home for Sunday, tired and worn from his nerve-exhausting labors, were all to give him better heart to continue the struggle. Garwood himself, speak- ing nightly to crowds that cheered him, living and movln? in an atmo- sphere of constant adulation and ap- plause, fortunately could not recognize the condition that alarmed Rankin. It won't do to git 'em hardly square nohow. it. We've got along we're up to the limit."" Wouldn't the Hutchinsons give?" “Well, they put all theirn in the county fund, so's to elect Sanford; they say any- how a Congressman can't help ‘em; they're lookin’ fer the treaser only—ali they care fer is the bank.” “That's the way with- those banker: said Garwood. “Hogs, all of them. That what we get for giving them Sanford. If we'd nominated a fellow of our own for Treasurer we might have forced him to lay down on them.” ““Yes, you're right, but that time's gone by now, mo use cryin' over spilt milk. We've got to face the present. We owe a good many bills, some fer printin’, an'—" “Can’t they wait till after election?" “Oh, maybe they might, but I hate te ask 'em; it wouldn't help us any. The postage—well, I've paid all that out o’ my_own pocket.” “You know how I appreciate that, Jim, sore on us—'taint Damned if T like so fur, but now had at the Clinton convention, and you know jus’ what I told you there in the Gleason House that night before we met. So don't try to come any o' that old gag on me, 'cause I won't stana fer it.” ‘Well—" Sprague began, in a voice that indicated a want of conylction on his part, lifting his brows to add to the effect of the tone. He ended by spitting at his convenient cuspidor. “But I dog’t care 'bout me,” said Ran- kin, “go in an’ abuse me all you want. There ain't nobody 'll believe you, any- how. Everybody knows't I never broke a promise in my life, an’ that I al'ays stood pat fer my friends—which you wasn't one of them. so long's I can re- member, but that don’t cut any figur here nor there.” I always supposed we were friends, Jim,” Sprague complained. “Oh, that’s all right—in politics T mean. hain’t nothin’ "ag'in you pers'nally, course, but in’ politics we've al'ays been ?g':n each other, an’ ther’ gt mo uss ryin’ to ignore that nmow. You've been y > sore ever since the convention, of course, 9Omt you?' = an’ I don't know’s T blame you fer jt, _-On. that's all right,” said Rankin, but we beat you falr an' sauare, an’ { Wwaving his gratitude aside. “Then comie over here to tell you that we ex- there’s the Citizen an' some other papers pect you to get out an’ support the OVer the district. they're beginning te bt clamor fer the'r money Z “Oh, you did. did you?" said Sprague, . ILS & regular hold-up, isn't it?" sald with half a smile. Gdrwood. . “Yes. I did,” said Rankin. ‘That's what_vou've got to t in “Well,” said Sprague, “I'm sure I Dolitics” sald Rankin. “But if that ‘as alan’t know it."” all we might take care of it. The situa- ““Oh, hell, now, Con expostulated Rankin, disgustediy, *“don’t fer God's sake use that 'ith me. Maybe it goes down to Washin'ton, I don’t know, but it dofi't go here, not “ith me, 't any rate. You know what they're doin’, an’ so do I An’ I'll just tell yvou this,” Rankin leaned over “and laid” his’ hand on the edge of Sprague's desk, while Sprague eved him with distavor, “that if you ex- pect to be in politics any more they've got to non”lt. an’ stop it now, .an’ if ""“L',‘." taken a curious turn this last wee “How’s that? asked Garwood, who had suffered from a candidate’s myopia. and could not note the numerous turns a situation takes during a campaign. “Well, it's this way. The committees is all kickin' because your assessments hasn't been pald. I've beem tryin' to make a poor man’'s camp: . fer you, an’ I've succeeded pretty well so fur, it I do say it myself. But the boys needs seemed to him. just as it seems to every they don't— money everywhere; they want to finish candidate, that all the people were for ‘*Well, {f they don't? rague in- UP the'r poll, and over in Moultrie, where him, because he never met any whu terruptéd in an ugly, defant. tcms. We had to deal with the Sprague kick- were against him. “Well, if they dom't, why. don’t evee €rs. a little monmey has just got to be Bromley had opened his campaign in used, that's all.” Grand Prairie with a meeting which, by dare stick vour head wp out o your Continued Next Week. crab-hole ag'in; an’ what's more—"’ Em— ‘“Daring lmnunn'.,l’on and rapidity of action are consplcuously in evidence in the story. '—New York World, Feb. 23. THE book of the world. By DWIGHT TILTON, Author of MISS PETTICOATS This novel ought to interest every man, woman and child in this country. It is a unique, a most fascinating story of lave, finding its background in the social and economic situation in this country, and culminating in a possible peril at Washington, arising from the present These Rooks | craze for the centralfzation of wealth. The hero, through a national crisis, Now at finds himself Presidenf. The reins of government are completely in his hands. 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