A Gentleman from Mississippi Part 33

"I will take the liberty of adding that the Senator accused is none other than the junior Senator from Mississippi."

Langdon's eyes blazed. He strode swiftly into the aisle.

"Mr. President," he cried, pa.s.sionately, "I know this is not the time or place for a discussion like this, but ask that senatorial courtesy permit me to ask"--then he concluded strongly before he could be stopped--"what is the evidence in support of this preposterous charge?"

"This is all out of order," said the presiding officer, after a pause, "but in view of the circ.u.mstances I will entertain a motion to suspend the rules."

This motion pa.s.sing, Horton replied to Langdon:

"Your name is signed to a contract with J.D. Telfer, Mayor of Gulf City, Miss., calling for 3,000 shares in the Gulf City Land Company, and--"

"A lie! a lie!" screamed Langdon.

"That official," went on Horton, coolly, "is now in Washington. He has the contract and will swear to conversations with you and your secretary. His testimony will be corroborated by no less a personage than Congressman Norton, of your own district, who says you asked him to conduct part of the negotiations.

"And I might add," cried Horton, "that it is known to more than one member of this honorable body that you had drawn up a minority report in favor of Gulf City because of your anger at the defeat of your plan to lake the naval base away from Altacoola."

Langdon sank into his chair, bewildered, even stunned. There was a conspiracy against him, but how could he prove it? The ground seemed crumbling from under him--not even a straw to grasp. Then the old fighting blood that carried him along in Beauregard's van tugged at the valves of his heart, revived his spirit, ran through his veins. He leaped to his feet.

A sound as of a scuffle--a body falling heavily--drew all eyes from Langdon to the rear of the main aisle. An a.s.sistant sergeant-at-arms was lying face downward on the carpet. Another was vainly trying to hold Bud Haines, who, tearing himself free, rushed down to his chief, waving a sheet of paper in the Senator's eyes.

"Read that!" gasped the secretary, breathlessly, and he hurried away up a side pa.s.sageway and out to reach the stairs leading to the press gallery.

Langdon spread the paper before him with difficulty with his trembling hands. Slowly his whirling brain gave him the ability to read. Slowly what appeared to him as a jumbled nothing resolved into orderly lines and words. He read and again stood before the Senate, which had regained its usual composure after the fallen sergeant-at-arms had regained his feet and rubbed his bruises.

"I do not think there will be any investigation," he said, with decided effort, struggling to down the emotion that choked him. "I ask this house to listen to the following letter:

"DEAR SENATOR LANGDON: When you receive this letter I shall be well on my way to take a steamer for Cuba. I write to ask you not to think too harshly of me, for I will always cherish thoughts of the friendship you have shown me.

"Peabody and Stevens have finally proved too much for me. When they got old Telfer to swear to a forged contract and wanted me to forge your name in the land records at Gulf City, I threw up my hands. Their game will always go on, I suppose, but you gave them a shock when you broke up their Altacoola graft scheme. And I'm glad you did They cast me aside to-day, probably thinking they could get me again if they needed me.

"I am going on the sugar plantation of a friend, where I can make a new start and forget that I ever went to Washington."

Langdon paused deliberately. The Senate was hushed. The galleries were stifled. Not even the rustle of a sheet of paper was heard in the reporters' gallery. The Mississippian gazed around the Senate chamber.

He saw Stevens and Peabody craning their necks across the aisle and talking excitedly to each other.

Then he stepped forward and spoke, waving the paper in the air.

"This letter is signed 'Charles Norton.'"

The old Southerner gazed triumphantly at the men who had sought to destroy him. It was with difficulty that the presiding officer could hammer down the burst of handclapping that arose from the galleries.

Senator Horton, however, was not satisfied with Langdon's sudden ascendency.

"How do we know that that letter is not a forgery, a trick?" he exclaimed.

"Go get Congressman Norton--if you can--and get his denial," responded Langdon.

The junior Senator from Mississippi hurriedly pushed his way out of the Senate chamber. His day's work was done.

Down on a broad plantation along the Pearl River an old planter, who has borne his years well, as life goes nowadays, pa.s.ses his days contentedly. He delights in the rompings of his grandchildren as they rouse the echoes of the mansion and prides himself on the achievements of their father, Randolph, who has improved the plantation to a point never reached before.

Sometimes he receives a letter from his daughter. Hope Georgia, now Mrs. Haines, telling him of her happy life, or perhaps it is a letter from Carolina, describing the good times she is having in London with the friends she is visiting.

And the old planter goes out on the broad veranda in the warm Southern twilight, and he thinks of the days that were. He remembers how the Third Mississippi won the day at Crawfordsville. He thinks of the days when he fought the good fight in Washington. His thoughts turn to the memory of her who went before these many years and whom he is soon to see again, and peace descends on the soul of the gentleman from Mississippi as the world drops to slumber around him.

THE END.