Unleavened Bread Part 27

"I will say this, Selma. My business affairs look more favorable, and, if nothing unforeseen happens, I do not see why we shouldn't get on reasonably fast. Nowadays, in order to be a United States Senator comfortably, it is desirable in the first place to have abundant means."

"Yes."

"We must be patient and G.o.d-fearing, and with your help, dear, and your sympathy, we may live to see what you desire come to pa.s.s. Of course, my ambition is to be Senator, and--and to take you back to Washington as a Senator's wife."

Selma had not chosen to confide to Lyons in set terms her social grievance against the capital of her country. But she was glad to perceive from his last words that he understood she was not satisfied with the treatment accorded her, and that he also was looking forward to giving her a position which would enable her to rebuke the unG.o.dly and presumptuous.

"Thank you, James," she answered. "When that time comes we shall be able to teach them a number of things. For the present though, I feel that I can be of best service to you and to the truths which we are living for by interesting myself in whatever concerns Benham. We believe in Benham, and Benham seems inclined to believe in us and our ideas."

The ensuing year pa.s.sed uneventfully. Lyons was able to be at home from the first of April to the rea.s.sembling of Congress in the following December. He was glad to give himself up to the enjoyment of his handsome establishment. He resumed the tenor of his professional practice, feeling that as a sober-minded, married citizen he had become of more importance to the community, and he was eager to bear witness to his sense of responsibility. He took a more active part in soliciting contributions for evangelizing benighted countries, and he consented on several occasions to deliver an address on "Success in Life" to struggling young men of Benham and the surrounding towns. His easy flow of words, his dignity and his sober but friendly mien made him a favorite with audiences, and constantly broadened his circle of acquaintance.

Selma, on her side, took up the organization of the Free Hospital provided by Mr. Parsons. Her husband left the decision of all but legal and financial questions to her and Miss Luella Bailey, who, at Selma's request, was made the third member of the board of trustees. She decided to call in a committee of prominent physicians to formulate a programme of procedure in matters purely medical; but she reserved a right of rejection of their conclusions, and she insisted on the recognition of certain cardinal principles, as she called them. She specified that no one school of medicine should dictate the policy of the hospital as regards the treatment of patients. To the young physician whom she selected to a.s.sist her in forming this administrative board she stated, with stern emotion: "I do not intend that it shall be possible in this hospital for men and women to be sacrificed simply because doctors are unwilling to avail themselves of the latest resources of brilliant individual discernment. I know what it means to see a beloved one die, who might have been saved had the physician in charge been willing to try new expedients. The doors of this hospital must be ever open to rising unconventional talent. There shall be no creeds nor caste of medicine here."

She also specified that the matron in charge of the hospital should be Mrs. Earle, whose lack of trained experience was more than counterbalanced by her maternal, humanitarian spirit, as Selma expressed it. She felt confident that Mrs. Earle would choose as her a.s.sistants competent and skilful persons, and at the same time that her broad point of view and sympathetic instincts would not allow her to turn a deaf ear to aspiring but technically ignorant ability. This selection of Mrs.

Earle was a keen pleasure to Selma. It seemed to her an ideal selection.

Mrs. Earle was no longer young, and was beginning to find the constant labor of lecture and newspaper work exhausting. This dignified and important post would provide her with a permanent income, and would afford her an attractive field for her progressive capabilities.

Selma's choice of young Dr. Ashmun as the head of the medical board was due to a statement which came to her ears, that he was reviled by some of the physicians of Benham because he had patented certain discoveries of his own instead of giving his fellow-pract.i.tioners the benefit of his knowledge. Selma was prompt to detect in this hostility an envious disposition on the part of the regular physicians to appropriate the fruits of individual cleverness and to repress youthful revolt against conventional methods. Dr. Ashmun regarded his selection as the professional chief of this new inst.i.tution as a most auspicious occurrence from the standpoint of his personal fortunes. He was ambitious, ardent, and keen to attract attention, with an abundant fund of energy and a nervous, driving manner. He was, besides, good looking and fluent, and he quickly perceived the drift of Selma's intentions in regard to the hospital, and accommodated himself to them with enthusiasm. They afforded him the very opportunity which he most desired--the chance to a.s.sert himself against his critics, and to obtain public notice. The watchword of liberty and distrust of professional canons suited his purposes and his mood, and he threw himself eagerly into the work of carrying out Selma's projects.

As a result of the selection of Dr. Ashmun and of the other members of the administrative board, who were chosen with a view to their availability as sympathetic colleagues, letters of protest from several physicians appeared in the newspapers complaining that the new hospital was being conducted on unscientific and shallow principles, disapproved of by the leading men of the profession. Selma was indignant yet thrilled. She promptly took steps to refute the charge, and explained that the hostility of these correspondents proceeded from envy and hide-bound reluctance to adopt new and revolutionizing expedients.

Through the aid of Mrs. Earle and Miss Luella Bailey a double-leaded column in the Benham _Sentinel_ set forth the merits of the new departure in medicine, which was cleverly described as the revolt of the talented young men of the profession from the tyranny of their conservative elders. Benham became divided in opinion as to the merits of this controversy, and Selma received a number of anonymous letters through the post approving her stand in behalf of advanced, independent thought. Among the physicians who were opposed to her administration of the hospital she recognized with satisfaction the name of a Dr. Paget, who, as she happened to know, was Mrs. Hallett Taylor's medical adviser.

Another matter in which Selma became interested was the case of Mrs.

Hamilton. She was a woman who had been born in the neighborhood of Benham, but had lived for twenty years in England, and had been tried in England by due process of law for the murder of her husband and sentenced to imprisonment for life. Some of the people of the state who had followed the testimony as reported in the American newspapers had decided that she ought not to have been convicted. Accordingly a pet.i.tion setting forth the opinion of her former neighbors that she was innocent of the charge, and should as an American citizen be released from custody, was circulated for signature. A public meeting was held and largely attended, at which it was resolved to send a monster pet.i.tion to the British authorities with a request for Mrs. Hamilton's pardon, and also to ask the government at Washington to intercede on behalf of the unfortunate sufferer. The statement of the case appealed vividly to Selma, and at the public meeting, which was attended chiefly by women, she spoke, and offered the services of her husband to lay the matter before the President. It was further resolved to obtain the names of influential persons all over the country in order that the pet.i.tion might show that the sentiment that injustice had been done was national as well as local.

Selma espoused the case with ardor, and busied herself in obtaining signatures. She called on Miss Flagg and induced her to sign by the a.s.surance that the verdict was entirely contrary to the evidence. She then had recourse to her former sister-in-law, conceiving that the signature of the President of Wetmore College would impress the English.

She and Pauline had already exchanged visits, and Pauline had shown no umbrage at her marriage. The possibility of being rebuffed on this occasion did not occur to Selma. She took for granted that Pauline would be only too glad to give her support to so deserving a pet.i.tion, and she considered that she was paying her a compliment in soliciting her name for insertion among the prominent signers. Pauline listened to her attentively, then replied:

"I am sorry for the woman, if she is innocent: and if she has been falsely accused, of course she ought to be released. But what makes you think she is innocent, Selma?"

"The testimony did not justify her conviction. Every one is of that opinion."

"Have you read the testimony yourself, Selma?"

"No, Pauline."

"Or your husband?"

"My husband is satisfied from what others have told him, just as I am, that this poor American woman is languishing in prison as the result of a cruel miscarriage of justice, and that she never committed the crime of which she has been found guilty. My husband has had considerable legal experience."

Pauline's questions were nettling, and Selma intended by her response to suggest the presumptuousness of her sister-in-law's doubts in the face of competent authority.

"I realize that your husband ought to understand about such matters, but may one suppose that the English authorities would deliberately allow an innocent woman to remain in prison? They must know that the friends of Mrs. Hamilton believe her innocent. Why should we on this side of the water meddle simply because she was born an American?"

"Why?" Selma drew herself up proudly. "In the first place I believe--we believe--that the English are capable of keeping her in prison on a technicality merely because she is there already. They are worshippers of legal form and red tape, my husband says. And as to meddling, why is it not our duty as an earnest and Christian people to remonstrate against the continued incarceration of a woman born under our flag and accustomed to American ideas of justice? Meddling? In my opinion, we should be cowards and derelict in our duty if we did not protest."

Pauline shook her head. "I cannot see it so. It seems to me an interference which may make us seem ridiculous in the eyes of the English, as well as offensive to them. I am sorry, Selma, not to be able to do as you wish."

Selma rose with burning cheeks, but a stately air. "If that is your decision, I must do without your name. Already we have many signatures, and shall obtain hundreds more without difficulty. We look at things differently, Pauline. Our point of view has never been the same.

Ridiculous? I should be proud of the ridicule of people too selfish or too unenlightened to heed the outcry of aspiring humanity. If we had to depend on your little set to strike the note of progress, I fear we should sit with folded hands most of the time."

"I do not know what you mean by my little set," said Pauline with a smile. "I am too busy with my college duties to belong to any set. I see my friends occasionally just as you see yours; and as to progress--well, I fear that you are right in your statement that we shall never look at things alike. To me progress presupposes in the individual or the community attaining it a prelude of slow struggle, disheartening doubts, and modest reverence for previous results--for the acc.u.mulated wisdom of the past."

"I mean by your set the people who think as you do. I understand your point of view. I should have liked," she added, "to ask you to share with me the responsibility of directing the policy of the Benham Free Hospital, had I not known that you would listen to the voice of conservative authority in preference to that of fearless innovation."

"I certainly should have hesitated long before I overruled the experience of those who have devoted their lives to conscientious effort to discover truth."

"That ill.u.s.trates admirably the difference between us, Pauline. No one is more eager to aid the discovery of truth than I, but I believe that truth often is concealed from those who go on, day after day, following hum-drum routine, however conscientious. I recognized that Dr. Ashmun was a live man and had fresh ideas, so I chose him as our chief of staff, notwithstanding the doctors were unfriendly to him. As a result, my hospital has individuality, and is already a success. That's the sort of thing I mean. Good-by," she said, putting out her hand. "I don't expect to convert you, Pauline, to look at things my way, but you must realize by this time that it is the Benham way."

"Yet the leading physicians of Benham disapprove of your plans for the management of the hospital," said Pauline firmly.

"But the people of Benham approve of them. I prefer their sanction to that of a coterie of cautious, unenthusiastic autocrats."

Selma, true to her intentions, did not return to Washington with her husband when Congress rea.s.sembled in December. While she was absorbed with her philanthropic plans in Benham, Lyons was performing his public duties; seeking to do the country good service, and at the right moment to attract attention to himself. The opportunity to make a speech along the line of his public professions in behalf of labor against corporate monopoly did not offer itself until late in the session. He improved the few minutes allowed him to such advantage that he was listened to with close attention, and was at once recognized as one of the persuasive and eloquent speakers of the minority. Before Congress adjourned he obtained another chance to take part in debate, by which he produced an equally favorable impression. The newspapers of the country referred approvingly to his cogent gift of statement and dignified style of delivery. Both the bills against which he spoke were pa.s.sed by the Republican majority, but echoes of his words came back from some of their const.i.tuents, and Lyons was referred to as certain to be one of the strong men of the House if he returned to Congress. He went home at the close of the session in a contented frame of mind so far as his political prospects were concerned, but he was not free to enjoy the congratulations accorded him for the reason that his business ventures were beginning to give him serious solicitude. The trend of the stock market was again downward. In expectation of a rise from the previous depression, he had added to the line of shares which Williams & Van Horne were carrying for him. A slight rise had come, sufficient to afford him a chance to escape from the toils of Wall street without loss. But he needed a profit to rehabilitate his ventures in other directions--his investments in the enterprises of his own state, which had now for some months appeared quiescent, if not languishing, from a speculative point of view.

Everything pointed, it was said, to a further advance as soon as Congress adjourned. So he had waited, and now, although the session was over, the stock market and financial undertakings of every sort appeared suddenly to be tottering. He had not been at home a month before prices of all securities began to shrink inordinately and the business horizon to grow murky with the clouds of impending disaster. To add to his worry, Lyons was conscious that he had pursued a fast and loose mental coa.r.s.e in regard to the railroad bill in which his broker, Williams, was interested. He had given Williams to understand that he would try to see his way to support it; yet in view of his late prominence in Washington, as a foe of legislation in behalf of moneyed interests, he was more than ever averse to casting a vote in its favor. The bill had not been reached before adjournment, a result to which he had secretly contributed, but it was certain to be called up shortly after Congress rea.s.sembled. It disturbed him to feel that his affairs in New York were in such shape that Williams could embarra.s.s him financially if he chose.

It disturbed him still more that he appeared to himself to be guilty of bad faith. His conscience was troubled, and his favorite palliative of conciliation did not seem applicable to the case.

CHAPTER VIII.

Until this time the course of financial events in Benham since its evolution from a sleepy country town began had been steadily prosperous.

There had been temporary recessions in prices, transient haltings in the tendency of new local undertakings to double and quadruple in value. A few rash individuals, indeed, had been forced to suspend payments and compound with their creditors. But there had been no real set back to commercial enthusiasm and speculative gusto. Those who desired to borrow money for progressive enterprises had found the banks accommodating and unsuspicious, and to Benham initiative it yet appeared that the development of the resources of the neighborhood by the unwearying, masterful energy of the citizens was still in its infancy.

But now, after a few months of inactivity, which holders of speculative securities had spoken of as another healthy breathing spell, the tendency of prices had changed. Had not merely halted, but showed a radical tendency to shrink; even to tumble feverishly. Buyers were scarce, and the once accommodating banks displayed a heartless disposition to scrutinize collateral and to ask embarra.s.sing questions in regard to commercial paper. Rates of interest on loans were ruthlessly advanced, and additional security demanded. A pall of dejection hung over Benham. Evil days had come; days the fruit of a long period of inflation. A dozen leading firms failed and carried down with them diverse small people. Amid the general distrust and anxiety all eyes were fixed on Wall street, the so-called money centre of the country, the Gehenna where this cyclone had first manifested itself. The newspapers, voicing Benham public opinion, cast vituperation at the bankers and brokers of Wall street, whose unholy jugglings with fortune had brought this commercial blight on the community. Wall street had locked up money; consequently funds were tight in Benham, and the plans of its honest burghers to promote enterprise and develop the lawful industries of the country were interrupted. So spoke public opinion, and, at the same time, hundreds of private letters were being despatched through the Benham Post Office in response to requests for more margins on stocks held for the honest burghers by the fraternity of Wall street gamblers. There was private wailing and gnashing of teeth also, for in the panic a few of these bankers and brokers had been submerged, and the collateral of Benham's leading citizens had been swept away.

The panic itself was brief as panics always are, but it left behind it everywhere a paralyzed community. So far as Benham was concerned, only a few actually failed, but, in a host of instances, possessors of property who had thought themselves wealthy a year before found that they were face to face with the knotty problem of nursing their dwarfed resources so as to avoid eventual insolvency. Everything had shrunk fifty--often one hundred--per cent., for the basis of Benham's semi-fabulous development had been borrowed money. Many of Benham's leading citizens were down to hard pan, so to speak. Their inchoate enterprises were being carried by the banks on the smallest margins consistent with the solvency of those inst.i.tutions, and clear-headed men knew that months of recuperation must elapse before speculative properties would show life again. Benham was consequently gloomy for once in despite of its native buoyancy. It would have arisen from the ashes of a fire as strenuous as a young lion. But, with everybody's stocks and merchandise pledged to the money lenders, enterprise was gripped by the throat. In the pride of its prosperity Benham had dreamed that it was a law unto itself, and that even Wall street could not affect its rosy commercial destinies. It appeared to pious owners of securities almost as though G.o.d had deserted his chosen city of a chosen country.

Lyons was among those upon whom the harrow of this fall in prices and subsequent hand-to-mouth struggle with the banks pressed with unpleasant rigor. In business phraseology he was too much extended. Consequently, as the margins of value of the securities on which he had borrowed dropped away, he was kept on tenter-hooks as to the future. In case the process of shrinkage went much further, he would be required to supply more collateral; and, if the rate of money did not fall, the banks would refuse to renew his notes as they became due, unless he could furnish clear evidence of his solvency. He was owing over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars on paper secured only by the stock and bonds of brand-new enterprises, which had no market negotiability. From the money which he had borrowed he had sent, from time to time, to Williams and Van Horne an aggregate of forty thousand dollars to protect some two thousand shares of railroad stocks. Williams had especially commended the shares of the coal-carrying roads to his attention, and the drop in prices had been uniformly severe in these properties. Instead of being the possessor of a stable quarter of a million, which he considered to be the value of his property at the time of his election to Congress, Lyons suddenly realized that he was on the brink of a serious financial collapse through which he might lose everything before he could discharge his liabilities. It seemed cruel to him, for he believed that all his ventures were sound, and that if he were not forced to sacrifice his possessions, their future value would attest his sagacity. But at present the securities of speculative enterprises were practically worthless as procurers of ready money. The extreme circ.u.mstances had come upon him with startling rapidity, so that he found himself in the unpleasant predicament of having used for temporary relief some of the bonds belonging to the Parsons estate which he held as executor. He had forwarded these to Williams merely as a matter of convenience before he had become anxious, expecting to be able to replace them with funds coming to him within thirty days from a piece of real estate for which he had received an offer. He had held off in the hope of obtaining a higher price. The following week, when signs of danger were multiplying, he had found the would-be purchaser unwilling to buy at any price.

Realizing the compromising position in which he had placed himself by his action, he had cast about feverishly for the means to redeem the hypothecated securities, but all his resources were taxed of a sudden by the advent of the panic. It occurred to him to ask Selma to allow subst.i.tution of the twenty thousand dollars, which had been apportioned, to her as her legacy, for the bonds, but at first he had shrunk from the mortification of disclosing his condition to her, and now that the situation had developed, he feared that he might be obliged to borrow this money from her for the protection of his other interests. It gave him sore concern that he, a champion of moral ideas, a leading church member, and a Representative of the Federal Government should be put in such an equivocal position. Here again there was no opportunity for conciliation, and dignified urbanity was of no avail. If the condition of drooping prices and general distrust, a sort of commercial dry-rot, which had succeeded the panic, continued much longer he would be driven to the wall unless relief were forthcoming. Nor was it much consolation that many others were on the verge of failure. Financial insolvency for him would mean the probable loss of his seat in Congress, and the serious interruption of his political career. From what source could he hope for relief? The preparations for the autumn campaign were already being considered, and there was likelihood of another close contest between the two political parties. But for the worry occasioned by his plight, he would have resumed the contest with hopeful ardor, appreciating that the pecuniary distress of the community would be likely to work to his advantage. His own nomination was a.s.sured; his re-election appeared probable. But after it what could he expect but the deluge?

One source of the effectiveness of Horace Elton was that he was wont to exercise foresight, and make his plans in advance while other men were slumbering. He had been prepared for the panic because he had been expecting it for more than a year, and the ship of his financial fortunes was close reefed to meet the fury of the overdue gale. Also he was quick to recognize that the wide-spread depreciation of values would inevitably be followed by a period of business inactivity which would throw out of employment a large number of wage earners whose ballots as a consequence would be cast against the political party in power. As far back as the time when he made the acquaintance of Selma at Washington and selected her as the wearer of his cameo pin, he had been incubating on a scheme for the consolidation of the gas companies in the cities and towns of the state into one large corporation. For this corporation he required a liberal charter, which the next legislature would be invited to grant. He expected to be able to procure this franchise from the legislature, but he judged that the majority in favor of the bill would not be large enough to pa.s.s it over the Governor's veto. Accordingly it was of the first importance that the Governor should be friendly to the measure.

This was the year of the Presidential election. Both political parties were seeking to nominate their strongest candidates for the various federal and state offices. A promoter of large business schemes was at a disadvantage in a campaign where party feelings ran high and national issues were involved, and Elton knew it. He commonly chose an off year in politics for the consummation of his business deals. But he had chosen to push his bill this year for the reason that he wished to be in a position to buy out the sub-companies cheaply. The community was pressed for ready money, and many men who would be slow in prosperous times to extract gas shares from their tin boxes and stockings would be glad to avail themselves of a reasonable cash offer. Elton was a Republican on national issues. His experience had been that the Republican Party was fundamentally friendly to corporations, in spite of occasional pious e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns in party platforms to the contrary. He had a Republican candidate for Governor in mind who would be faithful to his interests; but this candidate was put aside in the convention in deference to the sentiment that only a man of first-rate mental and moral calibre could command the allegiance of independent voters, whose co-operation seemed essential to party success. The Republican state convention was held three weeks prior to the date fixed for that of their opponents. Within twenty-four hours subsequent to the nomination of Hon. John Patterson as the Republican candidate for Governor, while the party organs were congratulating the public on his selection, and the leaders of the party were endeavoring to suppress the murmurs of the disappointed lower order of politicians who, in metaphorical phrase, felt that they were sewed up in a sack for another two years by the choice of this strong citizen, one of the most widely circulated democratic newspapers announced in large type on its front page that Hon. James O. Lyons was the only Democrat who could defeat him in the gubernatorial contest. Behind the ledger sheet of this newspaper--which was no other than the Benham _Sentinel_--lurked the keen intelligence of Horace Elton. He knew that the candidate of his own party would never consent to indicate in advance what his action on the gas bill would be, and that he would only prejudice his chances of obtaining favorable action when the time arrived by any attempt to forestall a decision.

This did not suit Horace Elton. He was accustomed to be able to obtain an inkling before election that legislation in which he was interested would not encounter a veto. His measures were never dishonest. That is, he never sought to foist bogus or fraudulent undertakings upon the community. He was seeking, to be sure, eventual emolument for himself, but he believed that the franchise which he was anxious to obtain would result in more progressive and more effectual public service. He had never before felt obliged to refrain from asking direct or indirect a.s.surance that his plans would be respected by the Governor. Yet he had foreseen the possibility of just such an occurrence. The one chance in a hundred had happened and he was ready for it. He intended to contribute to the Republican national campaign fund, but he did not feel that the interests of his State would suffer if he used all the influences at his command to secure a Governor who would be friendly to his scheme, and Congressman Lyons appeared to him the most available man for his purpose.

It had already occurred to Lyons that his nomination as Governor was a possibility, for the leaders of the party were ostensibly looking about for a desirable Democrat with whom to confront Patterson, and had shown an intention to turn a cold shoulder on the ambition of several aspirants for this honor who might have been encouraged in an ordinary year as probable victors. He knew that his name was under consideration, and he had made up his mind that he would accept the nomination if it were offered to him. He would regret the interruption of his Congressional career, but he felt that his election as Governor in a presidential year after a close contest would make him the leader of the party in the State, and, in case the candidate of his party were chosen President, would ent.i.tle him to important recognition from the new administration. Moreover, if he became Governor, his financial status would be strengthened. The banks would be more likely to accommodate one in such a powerful position, and he might be able to keep his head above water until better times brought about a return of public confidence and a recovery in prices. Yet he felt by no means sure that even as Governor he could escape betraying his financial embarra.s.sment, and his mind was so oppressed by the predicament in which he found himself that he made no effort on his own part to cause the party leaders to fix their choice on him. Nor did he mention the possibility of his selection to Selma.

Mortification and self-reproach had made him for the moment inert as to his political future, and reluctant to confide his troubles to her.

The clarion declaration of the Benham _Sentinel_ in favor of Lyons evoked sympathetic echoes over the State, which promptly convinced the political chieftains that he was the strongest candidate to pit against Patterson. The enthusiasm caused by the suggestion of his name spread rapidly, and at the end of a week his nomination at the convention was regarded as certain.

The championship of the _Sentinel_ was a complete surprise to Selma. She had a.s.sumed that her husband would return to Washington, and that political promotion for the present was out of the question. When she saw her husband's features looking out at her from a large cut on the front page of the morning newspaper, and read the conspicuous heading which accompanied it--"The _Sentinel_ nominates as Governor the Hon.

James O. Lyons of Benham, the most eloquent orator and most public-spirited citizen of the State"--her heart gave a bound, and she eagerly asked herself, "Why not?" That was just what they needed, what she needed to secure her hold on the social evolution of Benham. As the wife of the Governor of the State she would be able to ignore the people who held aloof from her, and introduce the reforms in social behavior on which her heart was set.

"James, have you seen this?" she asked, eagerly.

Lyons was watching her from across the breakfast table. He had seen it, and had laid the newspaper within her reach.