Jasper County Democrat, Volume 14, Number 59, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 October 1911 — THE MAN HIGHER UP [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE MAN HIGHER UP

BY HENRY RUSSELL MILLER

CHAPTER VIL GBOWTH IN GEACE. SO after thirty years' walking among his fellows Robert McAdoo succumbed to that force which we call personal attraction. The friendship, if such it could be called at the beginning, took its tone from Bob rather than from the young lawyer, quiet and undemonstrative. With a wisdom born of instinct rather than of deliberation the latter consistently subordinated himself to the older man. never seeking to oppose his will. And, though the Intimacy became closer, always Bob must listen to habit’s vigorous protest against the change. It was not until Remington won his way to the legislature that the protest ceased to make Itself heard. >

The friendship, as those who could observe closely at last came to recognize it to their utter mystification, was good for McAdoo. Under its in fluence he warmed gradually. There was perceptibly less harshness in his demeanor. The Flinn home had for some years been in a fine old house standing in a quarter whence the tide of fashion had recently ebbed. Bob had bought It as a speculation, but, finding no immediate purchaser, had moved himself and his charges into It. much to the outward pride and Inward perturbation of Patrick and Norah. One evening Paul Remington entered the bouse and was shown into the library, where Kathleen sat alone sewing. -

With her permission he lighted his pipe, and they sat silent before the fire for some time. He broke the silence abruptly. “I saw her today.” “Not the lady of your dreams? And in the flesh?” “The same! I was standing in the depot, waiting for a fellow who didn’t come. Can you Imagine a more disgusting place for romance? A lady dropped her kerchief. With the prompt gallantry that is one of my charming traits, I picked it up and returned It to her. *Ah. thank you.’ And she deigned to give me the hundredth part of a fraction of a coldly indifferent glance, as though I were the cement beneath her feet Then I turned cold and stiff with fright and wonderment It was she—as I had dreamed her. 1 stood, staring like a yokel, while she passed through the gate to her train. I made a dash to follow her, to be met by a blue arm with brass buttons and the prosaic demand. ‘Show your ticket please!’ ‘Ticket." I said. ‘l’ve no ticket? ‘Can’t pass through then!’ ‘Man,’ I said, ‘1 must I’m the president of this railroad. I’m the governor of the state. I'm the president of these glorious United States. It’s a matter bf life and death. I must!’ ‘Can’t pass without a ticket,’ was all the concession I received. I rushed to the ticket agent’s window. Ticket!’ I demanded. ‘Where to?’ he said leisurely, as though the solar system hadn’t suddenly stood still. ‘Where to? I don’t know.’ I confided to him. ‘First stop on New York limited. 1 suppose.’ He handed me a few inches of paper, I threw down a bill and. without waiting for change, rushed out to the gateman. waving my ticket frantically •Now will you let me pass?’ I cried *Nope.’ he answered tranquilly ‘Train Just pulling out.’ It was true! 1 sat down on a truck and spent fifteen minutes inventing new ways of expressing profound black despair. And Buch,” he cried, striking i tragic attitude, “is the baleful effect of modem invention upon romance. ’ Weep with me!”

“Paul!" Kathleen exclaimed, startled “You let your Imagination carry you away. Come back to earth. She may be the very opposite of all you Imagine her.” “No. no. Kathleen! She's not Imagination. She’s the realest thing In my life. I'm a horrible sham beside you real, big people, but there are three genuine things In my life—she, my friendship for you and my honest liking for Bob.” Kathleen made as If to speak, but said nothing. “Yes?” he urged her gently. "Say it” "Paul.” she said Impulsively, "your liking for Bob Is honest isn’t It? Because you’re the only person he has ever given his friendship to. and 1 think It's a deeper friendship than either of you realizes. If you were to prove false to him he would be hopelessly imbittered Think of the evil be might do if he were to run amuck! Ton and be are men of different tastes temperaments. The day may cmk when you may be tempted to fans away from him. You will be a taw friend to him always, won't you?” course I will.” he said, smiling 4ft fter earnestness. so. Paul: Such things aren't coane,’ You're both in dor* f

politics. I hate politics; it makes men so bard and selfish. You’re ambitious. He has many enemies. And be isn’t like other men. He is apt to be too—too exacting sometimes." "But 1 promise. Kathleen”— “I don’t ask that. Promises don’t mean much, do they? And—because he is what be is—you may find it very hard sometimes." From the outside came the sound of some one walking swiftly up the pavement to the house. “There be comes now,” Paul said. “I know that step in a thousand. How like him It Is! He is as Inexorable as fate, that man. Let qs keep him right’’ When Bob entered the library Kath-. leen and Remington were chatting brightly of her latest charity. He listened awhile before interrupting. “I just came from Stoughton. He wants to go back to the legislature.” “Yes?” Remington queried eagerly. “I told him I bad no objections.” Remington’s face fell. “Ah! 1 had rather hoped to go myself." “Well, why don't you try for it?” “But you told Stoughton”—v “That 1 had no objectjpns\to his trying. I say the same to you.” “But if you were to come out for me It would be dead sure.”

“No,” said Bob firmly. “If it’s worth having It’s worth fighting for. I’ll keep out and keep Haggln out Then you and Stoughton can fight it out between you.” “Isn't he the generous soul!” Remington laughed to Kathleen, who only smiled back. “It’s a tough proposition you put me up against Stoughton has been over the field already, I suppose. But I’ll try it And I’ll win. Ln the bright lexicon of my youth there’s no such word as fall.” “Don’t underestimate your opponent. It’s bad strategy." Bob advised dryly. Remington went Into the fight and won, to the delight of Haggln and bls henchmen, who fairly loved the "silkstocking kid.” It is significant that when the returns were in primary day Stoughton was the first to congratulate the winner, and with downright sincerity too. On Bob’s face was the inscrutable, wry smile the committeemen had remarked the night of Remington’s defiance. “It was a test—for him and for me,” he said quietly. “If he had lost I

Would have cut loose from him. But now I’m pledged to carry the experiment through to the end. So come on, Fate! You see.” be added grimly, “I’m falling into his theatrical ways already." When Remington went to the capital for his first session he met Mrs. Dunmeade. the governor’s wife, and they became friends at once. Sbe already knew much of Robert McAdoo, it developed. Remington told her more. As a result the boss of the tough Sixth legislative district received an invitation to the governor’s reception. an early event in each session of the legislature. He carried it to the ca;?-. ; wi?w him when he went thither and wed it to Remington. “Yes, I know,'* said the latter. •*What are you going to do about it?” “Go;” Bub answered laconically. . “Whurroo!” Remington shouted. “I thought this was out of your line.” And he gave vent to a. paroxysm of laughter.

“Funny, Un't itr faint twinkle nevertheless in hl* eyw. “Say, Paul, where’s the best place to get clothes—New York?” "Yes," Paul gasped and went into another gale of laughter. “Well, pack up. You and I are going to New York on the 9-30. 1 guess this state can get along without your highly valuable services for a few days.” Behold then the "tough" boss, clad cap-a-pie as fashion decrees for evening "affairs." When, b-- appeared in Remington's apartment the night of the governor’s reception the yomijj man surveyed him with critical approval. “You’ll do.” be nodded. “Who tied that necktie?" “That was beyond me.” Bob confessed. "but a little of Uncle Sam’s currency secured the expert services of the head waiter." McAdoo and Remington crossed the governor’s drawing room together. Bob. at least, coolly unconscious of the flutter of whisperings and nodding* that followed their entrance “I’m glad to meet you under the white flag. McAdoo.” the governor said heartily. “I want you to meet my wife. Katherine, this is Mr. McAdoo.** Bob did not miss the quick glance or approval she cast over his correctly attired figure; nor did be. after that glance, regret the pains be had taken In the matter of his clothes. “Surely not ‘Knockout Bob?*” sbe queried

smilingly. "Guilty.’" ■ “We must change the sobriquet.” she said brightly. “We shall leave that to Mr. Langton here.” She introduced Bob to a short, stout young man who looked out on the world through thick lensed eyeglasses Langton was a famous cartoonist from the governor’s home city. “Mr. Langton, you must take Mr-, McAdoo in charge for awhile. Then 1 think we ought to get acquainted. Mr. McAdoo.” Bob turned away, with the cartoon- • Ist. “Well, what do you think of it?” Langton inquired, with a wave of his hand indicating the motley assemblage of verdant senators and promteled ward heelers who stood about in awkward groups vainly trying to adjust themselves to the propriety of the occasion “Sort of funny, isn’t it?" “Isn't it, though? I never miss it I 1 come for new material and never fail to find' It. 1 enjoy it too. better than anything I’ve bad since I sat In the : gallery and saw the melodrama.” So Langton rattled on in caustic : phrase, with the cartoonist’s eye picking out the eccentricity in the person- ■ allty of every solon present and com- ; menting mercilessly upon 1L Bob was highly amused. He shared Langton's I viewpoint. He kuew the stuff the * average state legislator Is made of. . He had made a few legislators him- i self. “All told.” Langton concluded, “about as warm a combination of rottenness and Incompetency as we have ever had. I wonder that Dunmeade consented to it. I can account for it only on the theory that Murchell is trying to disgust the people to pave the way for some of the governor's pet reforms unless that is too Machia vellian even for Murchell?" “You know Murehetl as well as 1 ! do,” Bob answered noncommittally. “They say there is one promising member, though—young Remington. He’s your man. 1 believe. They say he has caught Mrs. Dunmeade’s eye. That augurs well for his success—un ’ less you interfere. They say he’s a coming man. What do you think?” Bob calmly ignored the question. “I don’t envy the reporter sent to interview this chap.” Langton said to himself, and aloud, "What do you think of Mrs. Dunmeade?” “They say,” Bob quoted dryly, “that next to Murchell she Is the cleverest politician in the state.” “Next to Murchell! Man, she wraps Murchell around her little finger, jusas she does the governor. She has made Dunmeade—that Is. she has toned down his Impracticable ideals with hard common sense. She is coming our way now.” “Speaking of angels,” he addressed her with a low bow. “I was just say ing, Mrs. Dunmeade. that you are the most charming woman in the state.” “Come now.” she chided him laughingly, “that is too gross to be effective. Go over to that corner and break up Mr. Remington’s monopoly of our few pretty girls. I want to talk to Mr. McAdoo alone.” “Look out, McAdoo.” Langton laughed. “For if Mrs. Dunmeade wants anything from you. you might as well anltate Davy Crockett’s coon.” With another bow he left them and made his way across the room. She led the way into a large, old fashioned room, furnished in black oak. Upon the walls hung the portraits of the governor’s predecessors in office./ z “You may smoke,” Mrs. Dunmeade volunteered. “I think you will find cigars in that box. Only our most distinguished guests are introduced here. Isn’t it a beautiful old room? I love it, but John calls it the graveyard of futile ambitions.’ So many men have come here, thinking to establish their names, only to find themselves helpless puppets.” They sat in silence broken only by the murmuring of the fire. After awhile he?became aware that she was looking at him intently. He turned toward her quickly. “You caught me. didn’t you?” she laughed. “1 was trying to unearth the real McAdoo.” z “And what did you discover?" She shook her head. “I can’t tell yet,” she answered gravely, then she added abruptly, “Mr. McAdoo, will you tell me what you think of my husband—honestly?" __ L

j Bob looked her straight in the tyca. "1 toed to think him merely a shallow demagogue. That was before 1 knew him. Now I believe him to be a sincere bat very foolish man. He has the knack of getting bold of the popular heart- He couM make almost anything of himself if it weren't for his reform notions. He's abend of bis time.”

-There most always be a pioneer.” “And the pioneer is generally sacrificed to his cause.” Bob said senteotiously. “He does the work and sees another reap rhe glory.” -Yet Murcbell. the shrewdest politician we hate ever bad. has joined forces with my husband.” “That merely proves my statement. ! Murcbell has Iteen considered invincl- ■ hie. Lately, since ms open alliance with jour husbahd. his organization has been falling to pieces. He is like- . ly to lose bis bold on the railroad. And he can’t make up in popular support what be loses among us politicians.” Mrs. Dunmeade raised a protesting hand. “Please don’t say us politicians.’ Because—one most speak right out to you. mustn’t one?—l . brought you in here to ask you to join I forces with us." “In my city they would call that a joke. Mrs. Dunmeade.” “It isn’t a joke to you. is itT* “A Steel City newspaper once remarked editortally.” be answered grimly. “that 1 could be explained only on the hypothesis that 1 am totally lacking in moral sensibility.” "You are willing that the world should bold that opinion?” “Really. Mrs. Dunmeade. 1 never bother about what the world thinks.” She studied him gravely. “If it be true that you frankly, deliberately choose the career of corruption—the editorial was wrong; you are not a moral idiot—what a monster, what an abnormality, you are! 1 can’t believe that of any man. You haven’t answered my proposal that you join with .. ■us. “If that is all you need to set you right.” be said quietly, “no.” "But you said my husband is sinI cere.”

“He is. or. rather, he thinks be is.” Bob answered, all his brutal cynicism finding expression. “He really desires reform, but not for the reform's sake. He'll never be content unless it is worked out through him.” “Ah.” she cried, “bow you misjudge him! I tell you John Dunmeade would gladly the god of self to atoms for the’ sake of bis great purpose. He has already made the bitterest sacrifice possible for a man like him. He has gone along with the old order, compromising and dealing, accepting little infinitesimal betterments. to make a beginning, to pave the way for the sweeping reforms he thinks necessary. You wonder why I talk to you. a total stranger, in this | fashion. It is because I have marked ; you out as one who can be a tre- ' mendous help to us—to him. It—it is ■ part of my atonement. Even when be was a boy in college he was an en- ! thcsiast. worshiping high ideals. And ■ he fought hard to make politics clean. , Then be loved me. I was ambitious for him to rise. In a small, careless way I shared your philosophy then, and I tempted him with the sophistry of expediency Because of me be * made bis first compromise. 1 made John Dunmeade a trickster. I was wrong, and be was right. All I can do to make up for it is to win a position where be can force sdme of bis dear reforms. I’ve done a little. 1 made Murcbell his friend. Murcbell j has made him. governor. You cbuld 5 help us so much.” she added, looking ! at him wistfully. Bob smoked slowly and thoughtfully j for'a few minutes. Then be threw his : cigar into the fire and rose. “I’m keeping you too long.” he said. Mrs. Dunmeade rose too “You're not to be moved. I see. by a personal appeal.” she said. “I have a ' very definite purpose in telling you of my husband and myself. I want you to know us as we really are because the time is Coming when you will be forced to join with us.” “Forced?” “Yes. forced. You said that a man is a fool to be another’s puppet. Yet you know that you have been the servant of the financial ring controlling this state. Unless I am sadly mistaken in you, you will soon find It impossible to play both your game and theirs. Your wants are too big. The very self, which you worship, will forbid you to be the tool of other men. Then be cause yon will not be the tool of the interests you must join us.” In that session of the legislature there was but one notable feature, a corrupt practices bill regulating the collection and disbursement of cam paign funds. This measure had long been one of Dunmeade’s pet schemes. A few independent newspapers came out boldly for the bill. The state at large received it apathetically. Then Murcbell. who had consented to the bill reluctantly, put forth his band, and the measure was defeated. The man in the governor’s mansion added anotb er to his disappointments. At the close of the debate on this bill Pau! Remington made bis first important speech in the legislature, a really fine effort. Even Bob broke over bis custom and complimented Paul “It was a good speech.” he said. “But it did no good.” Remington answered. “The bill was lost.” “Of course. Murcbell knows his business. Did sou notice any wild outburst of popiiar approval? Na The people are asleep. They don’t know and don’t want to know how campaigns are conducted. Until the people are with them strongly Murcbell and Dunmeade cent afford an act like this”

I “Then why did Murcbell let Duntneade push the bill?” “Probably to show Dunmeade the state of the popular temper— prob-

ably. too. as a bit of education. The bill caused a few men to think, to open their eyes. Your sfieecb helped in that. It was a personal triumph. Run in to Kathleen; she’ll make a hero of you 1 have some papers to read” Bob laughed cynically. Yet his eyes, following the handsome figure of Remington as the latter went out of the room, softened almost to tenderness. (To be continued.)

“You’LL, DO,” HE NODDED “WHO TIED THAT NECKTIE?”

“AH!” SHE CRIED. "HOW YOU MISJUDE HIM!"