Jasper County Democrat, Volume 14, Number 79, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 January 1912 — THE MAN HIGHER UP [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE MAN HIGHER UP

By HENRY RUSSELL MILLER

CHAPTER XX. THE IH'.EACH. T»7E Saturday afternoon before election day found Bdb in ills 'office, pacing ba<k and forth as rapidly as the restricted quar , Jters would allow. He was on the verge, of a physical , breakdown, although his lack of experience of bodily ills hid the factfrom-hi he- He was beset by a wearing restlessness that did not permit of physical inn lion. Patil entered the obiter .office. Bob nodded through the open door. “Hello. Paul:" . , "Good afternoon,” p : iu] answered, with cold forjnality, and parsed into his own office,, carefully closing the door behind ttim. Bob hesitated.. Then be went t 1 Remington's do »r> He was: on the ]"<int of entering without warning, as had always been their custom, but he paused abruptly and ki: i: d. 'i ••tome:'' was the curt answer Bob entered. He stood waiting for the invitation to sit down., As it was not forthcoming he calmly sat down without it. Neither spoke at first. At last Paul dropped his papers and glanced coldly at Bob. “Well, you've come for something. 1 suppose?" Bob watcheb the curling smoke a moment liefore answering.

“I see your tip was good, after alh Did you go in on it?” For answer Pahl opened a drawer of his desk and drew out the check which Sanger had given him and which he had not yet deposited. He handed it across the table. Bob read it over twicb before he looked at Paul. “That’s a good deal of money,” he said quietly, “more than the average man earns in a lifetime, AVho staked you?” Paul's head went up a trifle defiantly. “Sanger.” “Sanger!” “I gave you the chance first..’* „ “But Sanger’s an enemy. It’s bad policy to get under obligations to a man you’ve got to fight,” Bob answered evenly. “Your enemy,, you mean,” Paul sneered, “not mine, as this check proves.” “Evidently.” BOb looked out of the window. Another silence, again broken by Paul. “See here, McAdoo!” Bob turned slowly at the name. “Yes? You’ve upset the ink”—he paused—“ Paul.” There was a slight emphasis on the name, which Paul did not heed. The latter seized a blotting pad and impatiently mopped up the Ink. Then he turned again to Bob. “There are some things you and I’ve got to come to’an understanding about. Why did you take me up?” “You’ve asked me that before.” “Don’t temporize. I ask it again." . Bob smiled. /‘You soein to have put me on the witness stand. However, I’m not bound to answer.”

"Aren’t you?” Paul said with an ugly laugh. “Maybe 1 can answer for you. It strikes me you took me up to make use of 'me and to keep me down where I could never demand what I’ve earned. That’s true, isn’t it?" “It strikes you that way? A few thousand dollars put a different light on a good many things, don’t they?” Bob inquired with suspicious gentleness. “Save your insults for your hired heelers.” Paul struck the table apgrily. ‘Tm-aot-one of them.” “Is there anything else Sanger—your friend Sanger—suggested to you?’ “Yes," Paul declared with angry vehemence, “he is my friend. I want that understood. I've learned from him what you didn’t dare tell me—that

he offered to help make me governor, ' and you re-fused.” ’ „ "Well, what of it? You wouldn't; have me take up that I offer, would [ you?" ■ “Why not?” “I might refer- you to a certain Speech of yours for- reasons.” "Pah!" Paul threyv out his arms in a gesture of supreme disgust. "Don't try to come that ’ slush on i me. The role of sanctimonious Pharisee doesn’t suit you, AlcAdoo. We’re in this game ' to help ourselves. Be decent enough to admit that to yourself, even if you are fooling the silly public.” ,“So you class us all together, you | and- Sanger and rye—liars, hypocrites, bunko steerers? Proceed, with the indictment. There are other counts, 1 suppose?” - ■ "You seem to take If all as a joke.” 1 Paul exclaimed bitterly. "But 1 suppose you have a right to consider me a joke after the way I’ve played the . fooKfor you ” ' ! Bob heard't his outburst impassively to all outward seeming; “What do you. expect? Sentimental protestations? You’d have the right to take me as a joke if I did that. Proceed.” **Very Well." ,Pan-1 continued sharp- ! ly, pressing his lips together tightly. "Aly next count confirms what 1 said about your unfitness for the virtuous ; .role"— ■ - . ■ ’ ■ '■ ■ ~ I "One moment:” Bob raised a dopre- I eating band . “Don’t you think it i would be wiser—at least more charitable—to luodera to your expressions ah bit?" ' I “No. I. propose to call tilings .by their proper names for once. Oh. 1 admit I was fooled with the rest. 1 supposed that McAdoo had reformed 1 his methods, at least, if not his ideals, | until I was informed that you'Tiribed the delegates whose votes nominated you.’* “You get this from Sanger?” “Yes. Even your enemies know of I it. You're at their mercy now.” ; “I see,” Bob nodded thoughtfully. “Some of Malassey’s work, I suspect.” I “You mean to say it isn't true?" Paul I demanded quickly. “No. The delegates were bribed, all right. Sanger through his agents bad already bribbd them the -other way. 1 ; supposed you knew that." But Paul, rather heavily let down though he was by this phase of the matter, was too far gone in his mood to retreat “No,” he said surlily. “I don’t knowit. What’s to hinder me from saving my reputation by disclosing the whole transaction to the public? I can do it. now you’ve confessed your guilt." “Nothing in the world to hinder,” . Bob replied. Only the fall of his ci- ; gar bitten through indicated any feeling. “Is there anything more?" He carefully flicked the ashes from bis coat. “Yes!” Paul went oh impetuously, his mood gathering momentum. “There’s one thing more, it—ft concerns Mrs. Gilbert. I confided to you my regard for her. You took it upon yourself to object to it. You even went so far as to call upon her.”— “I did.” '"■ ■■ '■ “And you gave her to understand, how’ directly I can only imagine, that you opposed our intimacy?” “Yes.” “You carried your interference so far that Mrs. Gilbert has refused "to marry me unless you withdraw your opposition. I wish you to understand that 1 consider your action an unwarranted intrusion into my private affairs. I don't propose to endure your meddling. You understand.” his voice rose. “I won’t stand it.” “You make yourself entirely clear, I think,” Bob said evenly. “Furthermore, since you’ve intruded your opposition. 1 expect you to withdraw it finally and absolutely. Otherwise’’— His pause was ominous. “That’s hardly necessary. You’re not a minor, nor am 1 your guardian, that my consent is necessary. You will be able to persuade Mrs. Gilbert to take that view-, 1 think, and threats do no good." Bob made an effort to smile. It was not a smile you would care to see more than once, the smile of a sti'ong man trying to conceal bitterest suffering and humiliation. By a trick of fffncjT Paul's angry, handsome face seemed to fade away- and in its stead Bob saw the face of a stricken woman. Both knew, that they had come to the parting of the ways. Words had been spoken that neither could forget. I think that even then Paul would have retracted his words had Bob offered him an Opening. He had not planned the conversation, but when

it was begun. Bob’s composure had goaded him .to reckless lengths. He broke’ the* silence with what was almost an appeal. “Have you anything to say?” Bob shook bis head slowly. “No; there’s nothing more to be said—now. They were counting on you to make a speech to the executive committee this afternoon. I you will not be there?” Paul shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “No; 1 have an appointment with my manicpre. 1 have a weakness for clean hands, you He caught up his hat and coat and walked out of the office. * As the door closed the mask of Bob’s, composure fell from him. The smile disappeared. His shoulders drooped, and his head fell forward. ■“Paul!” he whispered. “Paul!” # How he got through the rest of the day Bob hardly knew. In the evening there was the final rally, to which flocked thousands and from which hundreds more were turned away for lack of room. Bob made a speech, but his recollection of that effort is hazy. When fae rose to speak the waves of applause came to his ears as the faraway thunder of the sfea. When his Speech was concluded and the last

. . outburst of enthusiasm bad died away he quietly left thie meeting and went j home. In his room Bob threw himself wearily into a chair by his desk and brooded hopelessly. He went oyer and over the events of the past few weeks, listening again and again to Paul’s bitter words of the afternoon. He relentlessly, tore at his wounds until they gaped, taking a kind of savagejoy in his self, castigation. “Jukt one thing more is needed," he said to himself bitterly. "I will get out of Ins way—ofat of her way." He seized a pen and began painfully to write. j

Then his eyes fell upon the telephone at his elbow. He dropped the pen and opened the directory. At last he roused himself and savagely jerked the receiver from its hook. “Highland thirty thirty. Yes. Is that Highland thirty thirty? Will you 'call Mrs. Gilbert to the telephone? Robert McAdoo." There was a long wait, during which all his will was needed to_ keep him at tlie telephone. “This is Airs. Gilbert.” came the answer at last. She need not have named herself. He recognized her , voice. . • "I am Robert McAdoo.” ‘ “Yes. Air. McAdoo." “Alys., Gilbert”—the words were forced out painfully—"some time ago I Called on you about a certain matter. You may remember?" '“I remember." “At that tftfie I objected to a course of action which you had planned”— “Which you supposed I had planned, Air. AlcAdoo.” came the quick correc tion, “It. makes no difference. In elthei case what I said was an unwarranted interference in matters that did not concern me. Are you still there?” “I am still here.” “I wish to say”—he dragged the words out slowly—“I wish to say I withdraw ray opposition finally.and absolutely." A pause. “That is not necessary, Air. McAdoo.” “I realize that my opposition would not influence you”— “That is not what I meant”—

—“but I owe it to you and to—to Paul Remington to make the withdrawal. I wish so say that I do this of my own free will’, not because of any threats made to me. Are you still ■ there, Airs. Gilbert?” “Yes." * “There is another matter. I once said a brutal—a contemptible thing to 1 you. You will remember that. I—l | had no right to say that to you—no reason." , ( “You had no right, Mr. McAdoo.” “I—l apologize, Mrs, Gilbert. That is all.”

“Mr. AlcAdoo! Can you hear me plainly? I don’t dare to speak very loudly.” “Yes.” “Mr. AlcAdoo. there is a plot—a shameful, trick. It concerns your election—and possibly Air. Remington. I feel it my duty to warn you”— “Yes, I know.” “I am sure you cannot know of this that I speak of”— “Yes. Airs. Gilbert, 1 know of it. You have done your duty. You may now enjoy watching the plot work but. It will succeed, in my opinion. That is all.” “But, Mr. McAdoo”He hung up the receiver and slouched back into his%chair. His head throbbed violently. A roar, dike the far away thunder of the sea was In his ears. He was very tired (To be continued.)

"BAH! DON’T TRY TO COME THAT SLUSH ON ME."