Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 January 1913 — CALEB CONOVER, RAILROADER [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

CALEB CONOVER, RAILROADER

BY ALBERT PAYSON TERHUNE

Author at "Syria from the Saddle,” “Columbia Stories,'' Etc. Copyright, 1907. Albert Payson Terhune

CHAPTER VI. A Meeting and An Interruption. BY this time the campaign was on in sober earnest. Conover, who kept as well posted on his foe’s movements as though the League itself sent him hourly reports, grew vaguely annoyed as, from day to day, he learned the headway Standiah was making in Granite. The better classes, almost to a man, flocked to' Clive's standard. By a series of fiery speeches he succeeded in rousing a certain hitherto dormant enthusiast among the business men of the town. They found to their surprise that he was neither a visionary nor a mere agitator; that he based his plans not on some Utopian Altruria of highsouled commonwealth but on a practical basis of clean government. He pointed out to them how utterly the Machine ran the Mountain State; how the railroads and the vested interests of the party clique sent their own representatives to the Legislature, and then made them grant fraudulent franchise after fraudulent franchise to the men who sent them there. How the taxes were raised and so distributed that the brunt fell upon the people who least profited by the State expenditures and by the legalized wholesale robberies. How, In fact, the populace of Granite and of the whole Mountain State were being ridden at will by a handful of unscrupulous men. That Caleb Conover was the head and front of the clique Referred to everyone was well aware, yet Standish studiously avoided all mention of his name, all personal vituperation. Whereat Caleb Conover wondered' mightily. Stenographic reports of Clive’s speeches and of the increasingly large and enthusiastic meetings ae addressed were carefully conned by the Railroader. And the tolerant grin with which he read the first of these reports changed gradually to a scowl as time went on. He had made no effort to suppress or in any way to molest these early meetings. He wanted to try out his young opponent’s strength, gauge his following and his methods. But when, to his growing astonishment, he found Clive was actually winning a respectful, ever larger, hearing in his home town, he decided it was high time to call a halt. Accordingly he summoned Billy Shevlln. “What’s doing?” he asked curtly, as ae received his henchman in the Mausoleum study. "To-night’s the big rally at Snyder’s Opera House, you know," replied Billy. "Standish’s booked to make his star speech before he starts on his State tour. He’s got a team of Good Gov’ment geezers from Boston to do a spiel, and he’s callin’ this the biggest scream of the campaign so far. Say, that young feller’s makin’ an awful lot of noise, Boss. When are you goin’ to give us the office to put the combination on his mouth? On the level, he ain’t doin’ you no good. The Silk Socks, is with him already, and he’s winner with the business bunch in fam’ly groups.” “Look here,” said Caleb, pointing out of the study’s north window, which commanded a view of exclusive Pompton Aveuue and its almost equally fashionable cross streets, ‘how would you figure up the population of that district?" "The Silk-Sockers? You know’s well as me. Thirty-eight hundred in round numbers.” “And over there?” pointing east. ”Th’ business districk? An easy 12,000.” “Say 16,000 in both. S’pose they are all for young Standish. Now look here.” He crossed the long room and ran up the shade of one of the south windows. The great marble house stood on the edge of a hill-crest, overlooking a distant vista of mean, winding streets, dirty, interminable rows of tenements, factories and small shops. Through the centre, like a huge snake, the tracks of the C. G. & X. wound their way, and over all a smeared pail of reek and coal smoke brooded like some vast bird of prey. Coal yards, docks, freight houses, elevators, shanties—and once more that interminable sea of dingy, squalid domiciles. "Whats the population down there, Billy?” ,

"Hundred'n ten thousand, six hundred an'—” began Shevlln glibly. ‘An’ every soul of them solid for you, Boss. Sixteen thousand to hundred-n’-ten-thous—” “Thats right. So long as the youngster’s content to speak his little pieces here in Granite, I’ve stood by and let him talk. It would be time enough to put in a spoke when he started across country. But this blowout to-night is different. The stories of It will get in the Boston and Philadelphia and New York pa-

pers. So--" “Well?" ”So there won't be any meeting?” ‘ “If you say so, it goes. Will I give the boys the office to rough-house the Joint?"

“Will I give the boys the office to rough-house the joint?” “And have every out-of-State paper sereeching about ring rule and rowdyism? Billy, you must have been born more ignorant than most. You never could have picked up don’t know, in the little time you’ve lived." Shevlln looked duly abashed and awaited further orders. "I hear the gas main that serves Snyder's Opera House isn’t in very good order,” resumed the Boss. "I shouldn’t wonder if all the lights went out Just as the meeting opens to-night That'll mean a lot of confusion. And my friend, Chief Geoghegan, being a careful Man, will disperse the crowd to prevent a riot, and to keep pickpockets from molesting those pure patriots. I want you to see Geoghegan and the gas company about it right away. But look here, there mustn’t be any roughhouse or disorder. Tell the boys to keep away. I’ll have work enough for them to do when Standish takes the road.” Billy Shevlin, a great light of joy In his little beady eyes, departed on his mission, while Caleb, summoning Anice Lanier, set about his daily task of dictation. “Have you kept your eye much on Jerry lately?” said Conover, suddenly stopping, to his stenographer. “No, why?” "That young ass has got something on the thing he calls his mind, and I've a good notion the ‘Something’ is a scheme to get even with me. I just judge that from what I know of him. He gets his morning letter from that chorus missus of his, and then he sitsand rolls his eyes at me for half an hour. He’s framing up something all right, all right What it is, I don’t know. That’s the advantage a fool has over a wise man! You can dope out some line of action on a man of brains, but the Almighty Himself don’t know what a fool’ll do next. So I'm kind of riding herd on Jerry from afar.”

" Perhaps If you tried a new tack — took him into your confidence —” - "There wouldn’t be any confidence left No man’s got enough for two. Sometimes I’m shy on even the little I once had." “The campaign?" "The campaign? That ain't a question of confidence any more than knowing the sun will rise and Missouri will go Democratic. I was thinking of the confidence I had of winning the Pompton Avenue crowd by that measly reception." “You haven't succeeded?” "Not so’s you’d notice it. A few of the people who are so tangled up in my deals that they are scared not to be civil, nod sort of sheepish at me when I meet ’em. The rest get nearsighted as soon as I come round the corner. As for calling on us or inviting me to any of their houses, why you’d think I was the Voice of Conscience by the way they sidestep me." “But the season hasn’t really opened. In most citles people aren't even back from the seaside or mountains yet Perhaps, later on— ’’ "Later on the present performance will be encored by popular request Say, Miss Lanier, I was half jagged that night But I can remember telling you that I was happier just then than I’d ever been before. I was in society at last. My boy was a member of the smart set In New York. My girl was a princess. I was going to be Governor.” "Year "Well, look at me now. Jerry’s made a lifelong mess of his future. Blanche Is on the way to Yurrup with a bargain-counter prince that I’d hate to oompllment by calling deuce-high. My deebut into society was like the feller in the song, who 'Walked Right In and Turned Around and Walked Bight Out Again.’ The GovernorShip's the only thing left; and I’m getting so I’m putting into that all the hopes I squandered on the rest And when I've nailed it I’ve a half mind to try far President. That’d carry me clear through society, and on out on the other side." Anice looked at him with a sort of wonderment which always possessed her when be spoke of his social aspirations. That a man of his indomitable strength and largeness of nature should harp so eternally and

yearn so strenuously In that one petty strain, never ceased to amaze her. ' "The feet of clay on the image of Iron,” she told herself as she dismissed the thought "By the way,” asked Conover, as she rose to leave the "room, “were you. thinking of going to the Standish meeting to-night?” “Yes,” she answered, meeting his quizzing gaze fearlessly, "if you can spare me.” "I’m sorry,”Jie said, "but I’m afraid I can’t I’ve about a ream of campaign stuff to go through, and 1 shall need your help.” "Very well,” answered Anice, and he could cipher neither disappointment nor any other emotion in those childlike brown eyes of hers. “Lord! ” he muttered to himself as she went out, “what a politician, that woman would have made! The devil himself can’t read her. If 1 had married a girl like that instead — I wonder if that heart-trouble of the wife’s is ever likely to carry her off sudden.” An hour or so of sunlight remained. Anice, tired from her all-day confinement indoors, donned hat and jacket and sallied forth for a walk. She turned her steps northward toward the open country that lay beyond Pompton Avenue. There was a sting in the early fall air in that high latitude which made walking a pleasure! Moreover, after the atmosphere of work, tobacco, politics and reminiscences that had been her portion since early morning it was a Joy to be alone with the cool and the sweetness of the dying day. Besides, she wanted to think. But the solitary stroll she had planned was not to be her portion, for, as she rounded the first corner, she came upon Clive Standish deep in talk with Ansel. Clive’s tired eyes brightened at the sight of her. The look of weariness that had crept into the candidate’s face since she had last seen him went straight to Anice’s heart. With a hurried word of dis-

As she rounded the first corner, she came upon Clive Standish. missal to his manager, Standish left his companion and fell into step at Miss Lanier's side. "This is better than I expected,” said he. “I always manage to include Pompton Avenue in my tramps lately, but this is the first time I’ve caught a glimpse of you.” "You are looking badly,” she commented. "You are working too hard.” "One must, in a fight like mine. It’s nothing to what I must do during my tour. Everything depends on that. I start to-morrow.” “So soon? I’m sorry.” "Why?” he asked in some surprise, "I'm afraid you’ll find Mr. Conover stronger up-State than you think. I don’t like to see you disappointed.” “You care?” "Of course I do. I hate to see anyone disappointed.”' "How delightfully impersonal!” grumbled Clive, in disgust; "I thought you were averse to personalities. You’ve said so in both the speeches I’ve heard you make.” “You came to hear me? I —” "One likes to keep abreast of the times; to hear both sides —” "And having heard both —” . “One forms one’s own conclusions.” “And yours are —” "Quite formed." "Anice!” exclaimed Standish impatiently, "nature never cut you out for a Sybil. Can’t you be frank? If you only knew what your approval—your good wishes —mean to me, you would be kinder.” “There are surely enough people who encourage you and—” "No, there are not. I want your encouragement, your faith; Just as I had it when we were boy and girl together, you and I!” "You forget, I am in the employ of Mr. Conover. As long as I accept his wages, would it be loyal of me to —” "Then why accept them? If only—” “One must make a living in some way. I have other reasons, too.” “That same wretched old mystery again! As for making a living, that’s a different thing, and it has changed too many lives. Once, years ago, for instance, when I was struggling to make a living—and a bare, scant one at that —I kept silent when my heart clamored to speak. I kept silent because I had no right to ask any woman to share my hard luck. But now 'l’m on my feet. I’ve made the ‘llving’ you talk about. And there’s enough of it for two. So I—” "I congratulate you on your success,” said the girl nervously. "Here is my corner. I must hurry back. I’ve a long evening’s work to —“ "Anice!"

* "You must hear me. I—" . "Hello, Miss Lanier! Parleying with the enemy, eh? Come, come, that isn’t playing square. ’Evening Standish!” Caleb Conover, crossing the street from the side entrance of his own grounds, had confronted the two before they noted his approach. Looking from one to the other, he grinned amusedly. "I’ve heard there was more’n one leak In our camp,", he went on, “but I never sposed this was it.” Trembling with confusion, perhaps with some deeper emotion, Anice nevertheless answered coolly: ‘I hope my absence hasn’t delayed any of your work? I was cm my way back, when you—" “Now look at that,” exclaimed Caleb with geniune admiration. “Here’s my hated enemy as red and rattled as if I’d caught him stuffing ballot-boxes or cheering for Conover 1 And the lady In the case is as cool as cucumbers, and she don’t bat an eye. Standish, she’s seven more kinds of a man than you are, or ever will be, for all your big shoulders and bigger line of talk. Well, we won’t keep you any longer, son. No use askin’ you in, I s’pose? No? Then maybe I’ll drop around to your meeting this evening. I’d 'a' come before, but It always makes me bashful to hear myself praised to the public. Good night." (To be Continued.)