He was a tremendous worker, and often remained in his office until ten and eleven at night. He dismissed the stenographer by the wave of a hand which seemed to thrust her bodily out of the room.
"h.e.l.lo, Miller," said Mr. Watling.
"h.e.l.lo, Theodore," replied Mr. Gorse.
"This is Paret, of my office."
"I know," said Mr. Gorse, and nodded toward me. I was impressed by the felicity with which a cartoonist of the Pilot had once caricatured him by the use of curved lines. The circle of the heavy eyebrows ended at the wide nostrils; the mouth was a crescent, but bowed downwards; the heavy shoulders were rounded. Indeed, the only straight line to be discerned about him was that of his hair, black as bitumen, banged across his forehead; even his polished porphyry eyes were constructed on some curvilinear principle, and never seemed to focus. It might be said of Mr. Gorse that he had an overwhelming impersonality. One could never be quite sure that one"s words reached the mark.
In spite of the intimacy which I knew existed between them, in my presence at least Mr. Gorse"s manner was little different with Mr.
Watling than it was with other men. Mr. Wading did not seem to mind.
He pulled up a chair close to the desk and began, without any preliminaries, to explain his errand.
"It"s about the Ribblevale affair," he said. "You know we have a suit."
Gorse nodded.
"We"ve got to get at the books, Miller,--that"s all there is to it. I told you so the other day. Well, we"ve found out a way, I think."
He thrust his hand in his pocket, while the railroad attorney remained impa.s.sive, and drew out the draft of the bill. Mr. Gorse read it, then read it over again, and laid it down in front of him.
"Well," he said.
"I want to put that through both houses and have the governor"s signature to it by the end of the week."
"It seems a little raw, at first sight, Theodore," said Mr. Gorse, with the suspicion of a smile.
My chief laughed a little.
"It"s not half so raw as some things I might mention, that went through like greased lightning," he replied. "What can they do? I believe it will hold water. Tallant"s, and most of the other newspapers in the state, won"t print a line about it, and only Socialists and Populists read the Pilot. They"re disgruntled anyway. The point is, there"s no other way out for us. Just think a moment, bearing in mind what I"ve told you about the case, and you"ll see it."
Mr. Gorse took up the paper again, and read the draft over.
"You know as well as I do, Miller, how dangerous it is to leave this Ribblevale business at loose ends. The Carlisle steel people and the Lake Sh.o.r.e road are after the Ribblevale Company, and we can"t afford to run any risk of their getting it. It"s logically a part of the Boyne interests, as Scherer says, and d.i.c.kinson is ready with the money for the reorganization. If the Carlisle people and the Lake Sh.o.r.e get it, the product will be shipped out by the L and G, and the Railroad will lose. What would Barbour say?"
Mr. Barbour, as I have perhaps mentioned, was the president of the Railroad, and had his residence in the other great city of the state. He was then, I knew, in the West.
"We"ve got to act now," insisted Mr. Watling. "That"s open and shut.
If you have any other plan, I wish you"d trot it out. If not, I want a letter to Paul Varney and the governor. I"m going to send Paret down with them on the night train."
It was clear to me then, in the discussion following, that Mr. Watling"s gift of persuasion, though great, was not the determining factor in Mr. Gorse"s decision. He, too, possessed boldness, though he preferred caution. Nor did the friendship between the two enter into the transaction. I was impressed more strongly than ever with the fact that a lawsuit was seldom a mere private affair between two persons or corporations, but involved a chain of relationships and nine times out of ten that chain led up to the Railroad, which nearly always was vitally interested in these legal contests. Half an hour of masterly presentation of the situation was necessary before Mr. Gorse became convinced that the introduction of the bill was the only way out for all concerned.
"Well, I guess you"re right, Theodore," he said at length. Whereupon he seized his pen and wrote off two notes with great rapidity. These he showed to Mr. Watling, who nodded and returned them. They were folded and sealed, and handed to me. One was addressed to Colonel Paul Varney, and the other to the Hon. W. W. Trulease, governor of the state.
"You can trust this young man?" demanded Mr. Gorse.
"I think so," replied Mr. Watling, smiling at me. "The bill was his own idea."
The railroad attorney wheeled about in his chair and looked at me; looked around me, would better express it, with his indefinite, encompa.s.sing yet inclusive glance. I had riveted his attention. And from henceforth, I knew, I should enter into his calculations. He had made for me a compartment in his mind.
"His own idea!" he repeated.
"I merely suggested it," I was putting in, when he cut me short.
"Aren"t you the son of Matthew Paret?"
"Yes," I said.
He gave me a queer glance, the significance of which I left untranslated. My excitement was too great to a.n.a.lyze what he meant by this mention of my father....
When we reached the sidewalk my chief gave me a few parting instructions.
"I need scarcely say, Hugh," he added, "that your presence in the capital should not be advertised as connected with this--legislation.
They will probably attribute it to us in the end, but if you"re reasonably careful, they"ll never be able to prove it. And there"s no use in putting our cards on the table at the beginning."
"No indeed, sir!" I agreed.
He took my hand and pressed it.
"Good luck," he said. "I know you"ll get along all right."
BOOK 2.
X.
This was not my first visit to the state capital. Indeed, some of that recondite knowledge, in which I took a pride, had been gained on the occasions of my previous visits. Rising and dressing early, I beheld out of the car window the broad, shallow river glinting in the morning sunlight, the dome of the state house against the blue of the sky.
Even at that early hour groups of the gentlemen who made our laws were scattered about the lobby of the Potts House, standing or seated within easy reach of the gaily coloured cuspidors that protected the marble floor: heavy-jawed workers from the cities mingled with moon-faced but astute countrymen who manipulated votes amongst farms and villages; fat or cadaverous, Irish, German or American, all bore in common a certain indefinable stamp. Having eaten my breakfast in a large dining-room that resounded with the clatter of dishes, I directed my steps to the apartment occupied from year to year by Colonel Paul Barney, generalissimo of the Railroad on the legislative battlefield,--a position that demanded a certain uniqueness of genius.
"How do you do, sir," he said, in a guarded but courteous tone as he opened the door. I entered to confront a group of three or four figures, silent and rather hostile, seated in a haze of tobacco smoke around a marble-topped table. On it reposed a Bible, attached to a chain.
"You probably don"t remember me, Colonel," I said. "My name is Pared, and I"m a.s.sociated with the firm of Watling, Fowndes, and Ripon."
His air of marginality,--heightened by a grey moustache and goatee a la Napoleon Third,--vanished instantly; he became hospitable, ingratiating.
"Why--why certainly, you were down heah with Mr. Fowndes two years ago."
The Colonel spoke with a slight Southern accent. "To be sure, sir. I"ve had the honour of meeting your father. Mr. Norris, of North Haven, meet Mr. Paret--one of our rising lawyers..." I shook hands with them all and sat down. Opening his long coat, Colonel Varney revealed two rows of cigars, suggesting cartridges in a belt. These he proceeded to hand out as he talked. "I"m glad to see you here, Mr. Paret. You must stay awhile, and become acquainted with the men who--ahem--are shaping the destinies of a great state. It would give me pleasure to escort you about."
I thanked him. I had learned enough to realize how important are the amenities in politics and business. The Colonel did most of the conversing; he could not have filled with efficiency and ease the important post that was his had it not been for the endless fund of humorous anecdotes at his disposal. One by one the visitors left, each a.s.suring me of his personal regard: the Colonel closed the door, softly, turning the key in the lock; there was a sly look in his black eyes as he took a chair in proximity to mine.
"Well, Mr. Paret," he asked softly, "what"s up?"
Without further ado I handed him Mr. Gorse"s letter, and another Mr.
Watling had given me for him, which contained a copy of the bill. He read these, laid them on the table, glancing at me again, stroking his goatee the while. He chuckled.