Counsel for the Defense Part 29

"My game?"

"Oh, come! Don't expect me to believe in you when you pose as a reformer!"

"See here, Bruce," said the other a little sharply, "you've called me about every dirty word lying around handy in the Middle West. But you never called me a hypocrite."

"No."

"Well, I'm not coming to you now pretending that I've been holding a little private revival, and that I've been washed in the blood of the Lamb."

"Then what's behind this? What's in it for you?"

"I'll tell you--though of course I can't make you believe me if you don't want to. I'm getting pretty old--I'm sixty-seven. I may not live till another campaign. I'd like to see the party win once more before I go. That's one thing. Another is, I've got it in for Blake, and want to see him licked. I can't do either in my way. I can possibly do both in your way. Mere personal satisfaction like this would have been mighty little for me to have got out of an election in the old days.

But it's better than nothing at all"--smiling good-naturedly--"even to a cunning, unprincipled, hardened old rascal of a politician."

"But what's the string tied to this offer?"

"None. You can name the ticket, write the platform----"

"It would be a radical one!" warned Bruce.

"It would have to be radical. Our only chance is in creating a sensation."

"And if elected?"

"You shall make every appointment without let or hindrance. I know I'd be a fool to try to bind you in any way."

Bruce was silent a long time, studying the wrinkled old face.

"Well, what do you say?" queried Blind Charlie.

"Frankly, I don't like being mixed up with you."

"But you believe in using existing party machinery, don't you? You've said so in the _Express_."

"Yes. But I also have said that I don't believe in using it the way you have."

"Well, here's your chance to take it and use it your own way."

"But what show would I stand? Feeling in town is running strong against radical ideas."

"I know, I know. But you are a fighter, and with your energy you might turn the current. Besides, something big may happen before election."

That same thought had been pulsing excitedly in Bruce's brain these last few minutes. If Katherine could only get her evidence!

Bruce moved to the window and looked out so that that keen one eye of Blind Charlie might not perceive the exultation he could no longer keep out of his face. Bruce did not see the tarnished dome of the Court House--nor the grove of broad elms, shrivelled and dusty--nor the enclosing quadrangle of somnolent, drooping farm horses. He was seeing this town shaken as by an explosion. He was seeing cataclysmic battle, with Blind Charlie become a nonent.i.ty, Blake completely annihilated, and himself victorious at the front. And, dream of his dreams! he was seeing himself free to reshape Westville upon his own ideals.

"Well, what do you say?" asked Blind Charlie.

Controlling himself, Bruce turned about.

"I accept, upon the conditions you have named. But at the first sign of an attempt to limit those conditions, I throw the whole business overboard."

"There will be no such attempt, so we can consider the matter settled." Blind Charlie held out his hand, which Bruce, with some hesitation, accepted. "I congratulate you, I congratulate myself, I congratulate the party. With you as leader, I think we've all got a fighting chance to win."

They discussed details of Bruce's candidacy, they discussed the convention; and a little later Blind Charlie departed. Bruce, fists deep in trousers pockets, paced up and down his little office, or sat far down in his chair gazing at nothing, in excited, searching thought. Billy Harper and other members of the staff, who came in to him with questions, were answered absently with monosyllables. At length, when the Court House clock droned the hour of five through the hot, burnt-out air, Bruce washed his hands and brawny fore-arms at the old iron sink in the rear of the reporter's room, put on his coat, and strode up Main Street. But instead of following his habit and turning off into Station Avenue, where was situated the house in which he and Old Hosie ate and slept and had their quarrels, he continued his way and turned into an avenue beyond--on his face the flush of defiant firmness of the bold man who finds himself doing the exact thing he had sworn that he would never do.

He swung open the gate of the West yard, and with firm step went up to the house and rang the bell. When the screen swung open Katherine herself was in the doorway--looking rather excited, trimly dressed, on her head a little hat wound with a veil.

"May I come in?" he asked shortly.

"Why, certainly," and she stepped aside.

"I didn't know."

He bowed and entered the parlour and stood rather stiffly in the centre of the room.

"My reason for daring to violate your prohibition of three days ago, and enter this house, is that I have something to tell you that may prove to have some bearing upon your father's case."

"Please sit down. When I apologized to you I considered the apology as equivalent to removing all signs against trespa.s.sing."

They sat down, and for a moment they gazed at each other, still feeling themselves antagonists, though allies--she smilingly at her ease, he grimly serious.

"Now, please, what is it?" she asked.

Bruce, speaking reservedly at first, told her of Blind Charlie's offer. As he spoke he warmed up and was quite excited when he ended.

"And now," he cried, "don't you see how this works in with the fight to clear your father? It's a great opportunity--haven't thought out yet just how we can use it--that will depend upon developments, perhaps--but it's a great opportunity! We'll sweep Blake completely and utterly from power, reinstate your father in position and honour, and make Westville the finest city of the Middle West!"

But she did not seem to be fired by the torch of his enthusiasm. In fact, there was a thoughtful, questioning look upon her face.

"Well, what do you think of it?" he demanded.

"I have been given to understand," she said pleasantly, "that it is unwomanly to have opinions upon politics."

He winced.

"This is hardly the time for sarcasm. What do you think?"

"If you want my frank opinion, I am rather inclined to beware of Greeks bearing gifts," she replied.

"What do you mean?"

"When a political boss, and a boss notoriously corrupt, offers an office to a good man, I think the good man should be very, very suspicious."

"You think Peck has some secret corrupt purpose? I've been scrutinizing the offer for two hours. I know the ins and outs of the local political situation from A to Z. I know all Peck's tricks. But I have not found the least trace of a hidden motive."

"Perhaps you haven't found it because it's hidden so shrewdly, so deeply, that it can't be seen."

"I haven't found it because it's not there to find!" retorted Bruce.

"Peck's motive is just what he told me; I'm convinced he was telling the truth. It's a plain case, and not an uncommon case, of a politician preferring the chance of victory with a good ticket, to certain defeat with a ticket more to his liking."