Jasper County Democrat, Volume 14, Number 76, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 December 1911 — THE MAN HIGHER UP [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE MAN HIGHER UP

By HENRY RUSSELL MILLER

Copyright, 1910, by Bobbs Merrill Co. *• ’ v CHAPTER XVIII. THE FORCE AT WORK. 808 returned to ...treat the city to a whirlwind campaign such as it had never known. No detail of the campaign was too insignificant to receive his attention. It was Bob’s changed manner toward men that amazed Ila'ggin. “Dashed if you ain’t gettin’ to be a, reg’lar mixer,’’ he grinned one morning as Bob and he walked home from headquarters together. “You got Paul skinned now. What’s got into you??’* “God knows!” Bob answered with a hard laugh. “Well, mebby he does,” naggin said philosophically. “What I know is you’re give Mac the all firedest lickin’ he ever got.” Could it have been Bob who made the answer? “No, no, Tom! You and I have deluded ourselves with that notion long enough. Not I, but the people, are going to whip MacPherson.” Haggin snorted in profound disgust. "Aw, g’wan! You talk like Paul in his speeches. They’re goin’ to do it ter you. Guess that means you’re doin’ it.” "Bah! Why should they do it for me?” .. Haggin’s brow puckered over the problem. “I know, but I dunno how to say it. If the people’s doin’ it all, what are you workin’ so hard fer, half killin’ yourself?; Even you can’t stand the pace you’re settin’.” “You can’t understand,” Bob growled helplessly. “I’ve got to.” It was quite true what Haggin suggested. The strain was telling eveh on Bob’s strength. But feverish activity was a necessity to him to deaden all thought of the thing that haunted him—the face of a woman whom he iiad brutally struck down in his wild anger. But his work told. The city was in a turmoil of political excitement. The press reveled in the opportunity, bristling with charges and countercharges, innuendo and recrimination. At the club, over lunch counters, by the fireside, men—and women, too—discussed and took sides over the campaign. The children on the streets became bitter partisans. To the Steel City the issues took concrete form in the person and name of one man, Bob McAdoo. Either you were for or you were against Bob McAdoo; mostly you were for hiffi. One noonday—not two weeks before the election—Bob leaned back in his chair with an air of fatigue that sat strangely on his stalwart figure and let his eyes stare vacantly into space. While he sat thus abstractedly Paul entered. Bob nodded mechanically- * Paul addressed a remark, to him, which did not pierce the abstraction. Bob made no answer. Then Paul noticed the absent manner. He repeated the remark more loudly. Bob came to hijnself with a start. “Eh?” he exclaimed, “ph, it’s you, Paul.” Paul looked at him curiously. “What’s the matter with you anyhow? I said I’ve a tip on Consolidated Glass.” “Which way?” Bob asked, without interest.

“To buy.” “All right. Sell?’ “No,” Paul said eagerly. “This is a good tip. I got it from Brown, Hartley’s broker. Hartley, you know, is a director. Next week they’re going to declare a 4 per cent increase in dividends.” " “Humph! The broker who will double cross his client Will do the same to you.”. “But I tell you it’s a good tip.” and Paul pounded the table in his earnestness, “and I want to raise $25,000 or so. for it 1 can treble the money in a week.” Bob smiled tolerantly, as though Paul had been a child asking for an. expensive but useless toy. “What do you want with so much money?” “Oh', I’m serious about this, Bob. Will-you lend me the money?" Bob did not answer at once. In the gray hollows the red lidded eyes gleamed with a hot, fierce light. “Why not? Why not add one more link to the chaiii of obligations by which he would break the hold of”— The noonday sun was streaming in through the shadeless windows, yet Bob was seeing again the face of the stricken woman as he had sleeplessly looked upon it through the small hours of that morning, accusing, fearing, appealing. When he spoke Paul hardly knew the voice, so constrained and querulous was it, “I can’t do it.” • ■ ‘ > “Why not?” Bob’s words came uncertainly. “I can’t afford it. I need every cent that isn’t tied up for the campaign.” “Yon could go on my paper.” Bob shook his head. “No, not on an said nothing. Then fie rose, drawing a long whistling breath and without another word went out. Bob stared in troubled perplexity at the door, which Paul had neglected to

close. He did not know that he spoke aloud in the same constrained, querulous voice. “What is it? I can’t use the weajrpons I have.. The game has passed out of my hands. And he’s not worth the trouble he causes. He’s not worth what I offer. He’s not worth—her. I’m not worth—her.” Paul went out into the streets disappointed, hurt, almost bitter against Bob. Poor Paul! He could not know that Bob, swayed by a new born shame and self distrust-ryes, self distrust—had refused the loan only that he might never be tempted to use the obligation as a club. And that day fate—Murchell would have said the force—busily interested in a greater than Paul, led him.into dangerous paths. • For when he reached the streets his aimless tramping guided him past the First National bank, which, as all the city knows, is controlled by the Sanger interests. And fate must at that very moment bring Henry Sanger, Jr.’s, automobile to a stop in front of the bank. Sanger stepped out and, seeing Paul, paused long enough for a genial word and handshake before he entered the bank. Paul walked a few blocks farther before the recollection of a certain promise brought him to a sudden halt. “If ever I can do anything for you personally let me know,”' Sanger had said heartily. So he walked back to the bank and into the director’s room, /where sat Sanger. Sanger greeted Paul with a pleased surprise very flattering to our susceptible friend. “Anything I can do for you, Remington? Sorry, but I’ve got to leave in a few minutes.” “Well,” Paul answered hesitatingly, “if it’s none of my business say so. I got a tip last night to buy Consolidated Glass. W’hat do you think of itf’ Sanger smoked reflectively for a minute. “Can I depend on you to let what I say go no further?” “Certainly.” “It’s a good tip. Go in on it to the limit. You’re safe.” Paul laughed rather shamefacedly. “I’m going to, but my limit isn’t very big—about twenty-five hundred.” “Why don’t you borrow and plunge?” Paul laughed again, this time sharj)ly. “My credit doesn’t seem very good’. I tried it in one place I thought was sure, but it did no good.”Sanger sent three .beautiful smoke rings into the air thoughtfully. Paul had not said whom he had asked for the loan, but Sanger thought he could 1 guess. Then he whirled sharply in his chair. “How much did you want?” “I asked for twenty-five thousand.” “Absurd on a deal like this. Make it fifty,” Sanger said heartily. "Do you mean”— Paul began delightedly. “Certainly I mean it.” Sanger responded energetically. “I’m going to instruct my broker to buy 5.000 shares for you. Leave it to me.” he added smilingly, “and if you're not considerably richer a week from today you don’t owe me a cent. I appreciate your coming to me. Drop in and see me any time. Good afternoon.” And he held out a cordial hand to Paul, who took it and went out, thinking bitterly: - “It seems that bn enemy can be more generous than a friend sometimes.” That night Bob was scheduled to speak* in -the Fourth ward. And all Irishtown had made ready. Well Haggin knew that no mere schoolhouse auditorium would be ample for this occasion. So a great, bare hall was hired. Flags and bunting'galore had been secured at Haggin’s expense and hupg around the walls and ceiling more profusely, perhaps, than artistically. The meeting was notable, first,' because Paul Remington made the poorest speech of his career. After Paul, Martin spoke. After; them came Bob McAdoo. v Bob had been cheered befote and since then he has received “ovations” from greater and more select audiences. But neither before nor since has he been--greeted with the spontaneous, thunderous i welcome which Irishtown him that night. When the tumult aied down Bob began. It was not much of a speech. His voice was hoarse. The words fell jerkily and with no attempt at oratorical flourish But his audience listened intently, proudly. In less than ten minutes be closed with these words:

“You are my, kind of people. I’ve lived most of my life among you. I know you and you know me. There are more dollars against me in this fight than you can grasp the meaning of. Bui the fight won’t end until I die. I want you to stand by me.” The shout that met his appeal was a prophecy. Hours afterward Kathleen for the third night in succession was awakened by the sound of a steady pacing to and fro in the.,room above her. She arose and hastily dressing went upstairs. Knocking, she entered and went up to Bob. “Bob,” she said directly, “there’s been something wrong lately.” “Always, Kathleen,” he Answered in a tired voice. 1 “Can’t I help you with it?” she asked gently. He shook his head hopelessly. “No one can help me. It’s only that I’m ashamed. Go back to bed and quit bothering about me, Kathleen. I’m not worth it.” Something in his voice and haggard face caused the tears to start to her eyes. She turned aw T ay and left him. The monotonous pacing to and fro began again. (To be continued.)

“WILL YOU LEND ME THE MONEY?"