The Candidate: A Political Romance

from a kaiser or a czar. But Harley and his friends soon found that they had laid upon themselves a great and onerous task, and to Harley, at least, it was all the heavier because he found, at last, that his heart was not wholly in it. Despite all their caution, references to the tariff debate would dribble in; Jimmy Grayson began to grow suspicious; he would ask about the work of the campaign orators in the East, and he seemed surprised that his friends, above all the correspondents, should have so little news on the subject. "I should like to see some of the New York or Chicago newspapers, even if they are ten days old," he said. "It seems odd that we have not had any for a week now." "The metropolitan press scarcely reaches these isolated regions," said Harley. "We have been in isolated regions before, and we had the New York and Chicago newspapers every day." Harley did not answer, and presently contrived some excuse for leaving Jimmy Grayson, being much troubled in mind, not alone because the candidate was growing suspicious, but because of a rising belief that he ought to know, that the truth should not be hidden from him. If the tariff was to be an issue, then the candidate should declare himself, cost what it might. Yet Harley, for the present, followed the course that he had set. But he shivered a little when he looked at the New York and Chicago newspapers that were smuggled about the train; the tariff question was swelling in importance, and the head-lines over the debates were growing bigger. A stray copy of the _Monitor_ reached them, and it was big with prophecy: "At last the gauntlet has been thrown down by the wise, the conservative, and the high moral element of the party." It said, editorially: "Our impulsive young man will learn that there are older and soberer heads, and he must bow his own to them. The _Monitor_ has long foreseen this necessary crisis, although the blind multitude would not believe us, and we are both glad and proud to say that we have had our modest little share in forcing it." The candidate sent for Harley the next noon, and when the correspondent entered the state-room set aside for his use, he saw that Mr. Grayson's face was grave. He held a yellow sheet of paper, evidently a telegraph form, in his right hand, and was tapping it lightly with the forefinger of his left hand. "Harley," he said, smiling the frank smile that made him so many friends; "I've got in the habit of looking upon you as a friend and sort of confidential adviser." "It makes me happy to hear you say so," said Harley, who was gratified. Jimmy Grayson looked at the telegram, and his face became grave. Then he handed it to Harley, saying, "I have here something that I do not altogether understand. Read it." It was from New York, and it said: "Your silence on tariff issue admirable. Keep it up. Don't let enemy force you into action." It was signed with the name of a New York politician well-known as a trimmer. Mr. Grayson looked Harley squarely in the eye, and the correspondent's face fell. "Now what does it mean?" Harley was silent. "What does it mean?" continued Mr. Grayson, in a perplexed tone. "The tariff has not been a real issue in this campaign. Now why does he congratulate me on my silence?" Harley did not speak and Jimmy Grayson's face grew grave. "I am sorry that we have not been able to keep fully informed about the campaign in the East," he said. "I am bound to assume from this that the tariff issue has been raised there, and if a fight is to be made upon it I, as the head of the ticket, must do my share." Then Harley confessed, and in doing so relieved his conscience, in which he was wise, both from the moral and prudential points of view, because the truth about the situation could not be hidden any longer from the acute mind of Jimmy Grayson. He concealed nothing, he showed that he was the leader of the conspiracy, and he described their devious attempts, with their relative success and failure. "Harley," said the candidate, when the tale was told, "I am more than ever convinced that you are my sincere friend. You would not have done this if you were not. It was a mistake, but you certainly meant well." "I did it because I thought I could help." "I know it, but I repeat that it was a mistake. Such an important matter could not be kept permanently in the background. It was bound to come forward, and with all the greater force because it had been restrained so long. I don't think any harm has been done, but I'll have to take the management of it into my own hands now." He smiled again with such frankness and sincerity that Harley's feelings were not hurt by his words, but he quickly realized the truth of his assertion about the increased force of the disclosure because it had been kept back so long. Now the avalanche struck them. When Harley left the state-room, Churchill came to him. "Harley," he said, "the _Monitor_ has telegraphed me to get a thousand words from Mr. Grayson, if I can, on the tariff issue. My first duty is to my paper, and I am bound to obey these instructions." "It's all right, he knows now; go right in to see him; but I am sure he won't talk to you about it; he isn't ready yet." Three or four more correspondents received instructions of the same character, and in addition there was a rain of telegrams for Jimmy Grayson himself and for his party associates. It seemed that the issue had suddenly culminated in the East, and the candidate would be bound to speak. But the telegrams to Mr. Grayson were of a varying nature; many of them were opposed to revision, and they were usually signed by men of wealth and power, those who furnished the sinews of war, as necessary in a political campaign--and entirely within the confines of honesty, too--as the cannon and the rifles are on the field of battle. Others took another view, and it was apparent to everybody that great trouble in the party was at hand. Gloom settled over the train. They were ready at all times to fight the enemy, but how to handle defection among their own men was a puzzling thing, and there was cause for despair. Sylvia, however, was glad that Mr. Grayson knew. She said that he would do right, whatever it might be. "I've been in to see Mr. Grayson," said Mr. Heathcote to Harley, "and I suggested that he might continue his silence on the great question. You see, he is not bound to speak. If he doesn't want to, nobody can make him." "No, nobody can make him speak, nor can anybody keep him from it if he wishes to do so." While they talked the train was slowing down for a stop at a tiny village of a dozen houses, and when there a long telegram was brought to Mr. Heathcote. He read it with absorbed attention, and when he looked up at Harley his face showed relief. "This is good! This is good!" he said. "The telegram is dated Chicago, and it tells me that a big committee of New York, Philadelphia, and Boston men is coming on to see Mr. Grayson. They are good members of our own party, all in favor of letting the tariff alone, and I think they can bring such pressure to bear that they will save us." Harley himself felt relief. The committee might achieve something, and, at any rate, the responsibility would rest upon more heads. "When can we expect these men?" he asked. "In two days; they are already well on their way." "Being an Eastern man yourself, it will fall to your lot to be the intermediary." "I suppose so," said Mr. Heathcote, and he sighed a little. True to Mr. Heathcote's prediction, the committee overtook them two days later at a way-station, and Harley saw at once that strenuous days were ahead, because the committee had a full sense of its own largeness and importance, a fact evident even to those less acute than Harley; and it was led by Mr. Goodnight and Mr. Crayon themselves. It was composed of eight men, all middle-aged or more, and every one was set in a way of thinking peculiar to the business in which he had spent many years and in which he had made much money. All glittered with the gloss of prosperity. When they left the train they put on polished silk-hats, brought forth by ready servants, and when they walked through the streets of the little villages they were resplendent in long, black frock-coats and light trousers. They were not, as Mr. Heathcote had been in his primordial condition, young and merely mistaken, but they had passed the time of life when there was anything to be learned; in fact, they were quite well aware that they knew everything, particularly those subjects pertaining to the growth and prosperity of the country. The leader of the committee was Mr. Clinton Goodnight, who, as has been told, was a manufacturer of immense wealth and also a member of the Lower House of Congress, thus combining in himself the loftiest attributes of law-making and money-making. He was helped, too, by a manner of great solemnity and a slow, deep voice that placed emphasis upon every alternate word, thus adding impressiveness to everything he said. He was assiduously seconded by Mr. Henry Crayon, thin-faced and alert as ever, speaking in short, snappy sentences, from which all useless adjectives were elided. Mr. Crayon was self-made, and was willing that it should be known. He, too, had fathomed the depths of knowledge. They were introduced to Mr. Grayson by Mr. Heathcote, who, with useful experience of his own not far behind him, was able to show much tact. "I am glad to meet you again, Mr. Grayson," said Mr. Goodnight, in a large, rotund manner. "I am sorry I did not see more of you when we were together in the House. But you were very young then, you know. Who'd have thought that you would be so conspicuous now? I dare say you did not expect to see us here. We business-men are usually so much engrossed with affairs that we do not have time for politics, but there come occasions when our help, especially our advice, is needed, and this is one of them." Harley saw a faint smile pass over the face of the candidate, but Jimmy Grayson was a man of infinite tact, which, instead of being allied to greatness, is a part of greatness itself, and he took no notice of anything in Mr. Goodnight's words or manner. On the contrary, he welcomed him and his associate with real warmth; he was glad to see the great business interests of the country represented in person in the campaign; it ought always to be so; if the solid men took more part in the elections it would be better for all. Every member of the committee smiled a satisfied smile and admitted that Mr. Grayson's remarks were true. This was progress, as Harley could see. The committee may have come with advice and reprobation in its soul, but clearly it was placated, for the present. "We give proof of devotion to cause," said Mr. Crayon, in his sharp, snappy way. "Have come all the way from great financial centres to these lonely plains. Heavy sacrifice of time. Hope it will be duly appreciated." "You can rest easy on that point," said Jimmy Grayson, as the faint smile again passed over his face. "Your intentions will be taken at their full value." "We wish to have a long and thorough talk with you a little later on," said Mr. Goodnight. "The subject is one of the greatest importance, and the age and experience of the members of this committee fit us to deal with it." "Undoubtedly," said Jimmy Grayson, and Harley thought that his voice was a little dryer than usual. Fortunately the members of the committee had their own special car, equipped with many luxuries, and it was attached to Jimmy Grayson's train. Hence there was no crowding and no displacing of the old