The Landloper: The Romance of a Man on Foot
half a dozen of the worst crimes any man can commit and hitch 'em on to
him somehow,” urged Dodd, with fury. “Go after him. And when we get him
good and proper I want to do some gloating through the bars. He's the
first man who ever smacked my face for me--and I'll see that he gets
his.”
He left Mr. Mullaney stowing the money away in a big wallet which was
stuffed with newspaper clippings. He hurried in to the bar, gulped
down a drink, and then went to the office desk and examined the hotel
register. Anger and zest for revenge were stimulating in him a lively
interest in that meeting which Farr seemed to be promoting. Mr. Dodd
did not care especially what kind of meeting it was. He had set forth to
camp on Walker Farr's trail and do him what hurt he could.
Dodd was a well-posted political worker. The names of the men were not
names especially prominent in state politics, but his suspicions were
stirred when he saw that all counties in the state were represented.
And no more were arriving. He decided that the conference must be in
session.
Dodd avoided the elevator. He tramped up the broad stairs to the floor
above the office. The doors of the large parlor were closed. He turned
the knob cautiously; the doors were locked. He heard within the dull
mumble of many voices--men in conversation. It was evident that the
formal meeting, whatever it might be, had not begun its session. He
tiptoed away from the door and climbed another flight of stairs.
There were no nooks and corners of the old National Hotel which Richard
Dodd did not understand in all their intricacies. As his uncle's
political scout it had been his business to know them.
He hunted along the corridor until he found a maid.
“Is there anybody in Number 29?” he asked.
“Two of that new crowd that just came in have it, Mr. Dodd. But they
have gone down-stairs again.”
He wadded a bill in his palm and jammed it into her hand. “Let me in
with your pass-key, that's a good girl. It's all right. I won't disturb
their stuff. I only want to listen. You understand! There's a political
game on. I want to get to that ventilator in the closet--you know it!”
“Oh, if it's only politics, Mr. Dodd!” she sniffed, with the scorn of a
girl who has seen many conventions come and go, knew the little tricks,
and had developed for the whole herd of politicians lofty disdain; she
knew them merely as loud-talking men who had little consideration
for hotel maids, men who littered their rooms with cigar stubs and
whisky-bottles. She started for the door, swinging the pass-key on its
cord. “If it's just politics, sure you can go in. Many a buck I've let
in to listen to their old palaver down in that parlor.”
Dodd bolted the door behind him.
He felt entirely safe, for he understood that the rightful tenants of
that room were locked into the parlor below. He climbed upon a chair in
the closet and put his ear to the grating of the ventilator.
He heard only one man's voice. He recognized its crisp tones--it was the
Honorable Archer Converse.
“I repeat, gentlemen, that this interest of yours would amaze me if I
had not been prepared by reports from our agents who have been so well
captained by Mr. Walker Farr. Remember that this is simply a conference,
prior to organization. Every man of you is a chief in it. Let us be
calm, discreet, sensible, and silent.
“I'm not going over the details of the unrest in this state. The fact
that so many of you are present here from all sections is sufficient
commentary on that unrest. We understand perfectly well that a certain
clique of self-seekers has arrogated to itself supreme control of the
party. A party must be controlled, I admit. If that control were in the
hands of honest and patriotic men we would not be here today.
“I'm not going to bother you with details of what has been going on in
departments in our State House. The employees are the tools of the ring
and they have misused their power. I'm afraid of what may be uncovered
there when the house-cleaning begins. But the honor of our party demands
such a house-cleaning.”
Richard Dodd's hands trembled as he clung to the ventilator bars.
“However, we are faced by something in the way of an issue that's bigger
than graft.”
Now his earnestness impressed more than ever the listener at the
grating.
“Gentlemen, to a certain extent graft is bound to be fostered and
protected by any party; but when a party is used to protect and
aggrandize those who monopolize the people's franchise rights it's time
for the honest men in that party to be _men_ instead of partisans. Don't
you allow those monopolists to hold you in line by whining about party
loyalty. And don't let them whip you into line by their threats, either.
I refuse, for one, as much as I love my party, to have its tag tied into
my ear if that tag isn't clean!”
The assemblage applauded that sentiment.
“I'm going to call names, gentlemen. Colonel Symonds Dodd has this state
by its throat. With Colonel Dodd stand all the financial interests--the
railroads, the corporations, even the savings-banks. He is intrenched
behind that law which limits the indebtedness of our cities and towns.
Municipalities cannot own their own plants under present conditions.
Those men are even using the people's own money against them! They scare
depositors by threats of financial havoc if present conditions and the
big interest are bothered by any legislation.
“I must warn you, gentlemen, that it's a long and difficult road ahead
of us. But we must start. I have not intended to discourage you by
stating the obstacles to be overcome.
“I have explained them so that, if we make slow progress at first, we
shall not be discouraged.
“We will organize prevailing unrest and the innate honesty in this
state. We will establish a branch of the Square Deal Club in every town
and city. It must be done carefully, conservatively, and as secretly as
possible.” The lawyer's cautious fear of too much haste now displayed
itself. “The most we can hope to do is send to the state convention
some men who will leaven that lump of ring politics. Party usage and
tradition are so strong that we must renominate Governor Harwood, I
suppose, for a complimentary second term.”
“I think we can do better,” cried a voice.
“Possibly,” returned Mr. Converse, dryly, “but we must do that 'better'
carefully and slowly. In politics, gentlemen, we cannot transform the
ogre into the saint merely by waving the magic wand and expecting
the charm to operate instantly. Possibly we can control the next
legislature. I do not know just what legislation we may be able to
devise and pass, but I hope for inspiration.
“I will say now that I am with you. My purse is open. Command my
services for all questions of law. I will establish myself at the
capital for the legislative session.
“But there is one thing I will not do under any circumstances--I will
not accept political office.”
“You bet you won't,” muttered young Dodd, at the grating. “You wouldn't
be elected a pound-keeper in the town of Bean Center.”
But if Mr. Dodd could have seen through that grating as well as hear he
would have been greatly interested just then in the expression on the
face of Walker Farr. The face was not exactly the face of a prophet, but
it had a large amount of resolution written over it.
“I don't want to be the first one to throw any cold water on our
prospects,” declared a voice, after Mr. Converse had announced that the
meeting was open for general discussion; “it really does seem to me that
we stand a good show of getting control of the next legislature.
But after we do get control what prospect is there of passing any
legislation that will help us? Wherever there is a water system in this
state the municipality has been so loaded down with debts our machine
politics have plastered into it that the legal debt limit has been
reached. The only way this water question can be cleared up is by taking
the systems away from those monopolists--making them the property of
towns and cities. But if towns and cities can't borrow any more money,
just how is this to be done? Mr. Converse hasn't told us! We can clean
up politics, perhaps, but it seems to me that we'll never be able to
clean up the dirtiest and most dangerous mess.”
On the silence that followed broke a voice which made Dodd, his ear to
the grating, grate his teeth. His hatred recognized this speaker. It was
Walker Farr.
“I apologize for venturing to speak in this meeting,” he said. “But if
that gentleman's question isn't answered here and now in some way I'm
afraid men will go away discouraged. I have heard the same question,
Mr. Converse, as I have traveled about the state lately. I have thought
about this matter constantly, in my poor fashion. And because I went
into that job of pondering with an open mind is the reason, perhaps, why
a strange idea has come to me. You know they say that strange notions
are born out of ignorance. The better way would have been, possibly, to
submit the plan first of all to your legal mind, Mr. Converse. I will
keep silence now and confer with you, sir, if you think best.” His tone
was wistful.
“Talk it out in open meeting,” cried the cordial voice of Mr. Converse.
“Free speech and all of us taken into confidence--that's the spirit of
this movement of ours!”
“Has it ever occurred to anybody to form a new municipality for water
purposes only? I have studied your state constitution, and the language
in which the debt limit of five percent is provided I find applies
strictly to towns and cities. Suppose the citizens of Marion, together
with the adjoining towns of Weston and Turner, all of them now served
by the Consolidated, should unite simply as individuals for the common
purpose of owning and operating their own water-plant--form, say a water
district?”
“An independent body politic and corporate?” It was Converse's voice and
it betrayed quick interest and some astonishment.
“I suppose that would be the legal name, sir. Wouldn't it be possible to
organize such a combination of the people, distinct from other municipal
responsibilities? Then if we can elect the right men to our legislature
we can go to the State House and ask for some legislation that will
enable us to take over systems by the right of eminent domain, provide
a plan of fair appraisal, give us a law which will make water-district
bonds a legal investment for savings-banks. In short, gentlemen, I
repeat, this plan is nothing more than an organization of the desired
territory and people into a new, distinct, and separate municipality for
water purposes only, leaving all other forms of municipal government to
pursue their accustomed functions precisely as though the district
had not been organized. That's the idea as best I can state it in few
words.”
There was a long period of silence.
Dodd, listening to the mutterings of a revolt which threatened the whole
political fabric which protected him, his interest clearing his brain
of the liquor fog, could imagine the scene below. That assemblage was
staring wide-eyed at Archer Converse, the law's best-grounded man in the
state.
“It is very modest to call that suggestion an idea,” stated Mr.
Converse, at last. “Mr. Farr, if I can find the necessary law in our
statutes to back it up, it's an inspiration.”
There was the ring of conviction in his tones.
Mr. Dodd left the grating and escaped from the hotel.
He fairly cantered to headquarters in the First National block; he
felt a politician's frightened conviction that he had something mighty
important to tell his uncle.
XXV
A GIRL AND A MATTER OF HONOR
It had been a protracted session.
Judge Ambrose Warren, corporation counsel for the Consolidated, leaned