V. V.'s Eyes Part 27

"Pretty good," said he--"we had a very satisfactory talk. One of his cigars I'm smoking now. I told him what I'd noticed around the State, and gave him an outline of the legislation I want next year. Said my ideas were just right. Paid me some nice compliments. Speaking of legislation," added the Commissioner, flicking cigar-ash on the bare floor with a slightly ruffled air, "you'll be interested to hear I've been down to Heth's since I was in the other day. Saw Heth himself...."

The doctor remarked that he had been thinking of Heth's, not five minutes before.

"I let Corinne go back to work this morning, you see--not that she's well again yet by a good deal, or that that's the place for her at any time. However.... You saw Mr. Heth himself?"

"Yair. I saw him--last time I'll fool with him, too! Says he guesses the law's good enough for him. Told me pointblank he wouldn't spend a cent till he had to. How's that for public spirit?"

Having halted by the secretary, the Commissioner looked down at his friend in the open manner of a speaker confident of sympathy.

"Trouble is," said the friend, frowning and sketching circles over some yesterday's memoranda, "Mr. Heth probably doesn't know anything about it himself. Got a lot of other interests, you see. He allows that blackguard MacQueen an absolute free hand at the Works--takes everything he says for gospel. He probably--"

"Don't you fool yourself, V.V.! Heth's too smart a man to turn over his princ.i.p.al business to anybody. And I'm sick and tried of jollying with him. Say, remember that letter you wrote in the 'Post' last fall?"

It appeared that V.V. did recall the thing, now that Sam mentioned it.

He said introspectively:

"So you think he's still got a grudge about that?... Well, I'm sorry, but that letter was all true, Sam, absolutely true, in all particulars.... Why," said he, "what's the use of talking? You can't have omelettes without breaking eggs. You cannot."

"That's right. 'S what I came to talk about. Now, what do you say to another strong letter to-morrow, right in the same place. These--"

"_Another_ letter!..."

"You betcher--hurt their feelings, anyway, if it don't do anything else.

I guess you had it right, that a heavy dose of public opinion is--"

"Well, no," said V.V., frankly--"no.... Another letter would be a mistake, at just this stage of the game--a great tactical blunder--"

"Why d'you think that?" said Sam O'Neill, rather taken aback.

"Why do I think it, you say? Well, I--I know it."

"Well, I don't know it. It's a blame good thing to make these swell obstructionists feel ashamed of themselves. Let 'em see their names right in print. As for damages, Heth's shown that he's afraid to go into court--"

But V.V. waved aside the idea of a suit. "The whole thing," said he, "is merely a question of tactics. Things are going along very satisfactorily as they are. There's a drift on, a tendency--you might say. The clothing people have come in. Magees have come in. Why, they've agreed to do every blessed thing you asked--fireproofed stairways and fire-doors, ventilators and rest-rooms--"

"That makes the att.i.tude of these others all the worse. I tell you they've practically told me to go to h.e.l.l."

The good-natured Commissioner spoke with a rare touch of irritation. To have bagged all four of the offending local plants, without the aid of law and relying only on personal influence and tactful pressure, would undoubtedly have been a great card for the O'Neill administration.

Moreover, Mr. Heth's manner of superior indifference yesterday had been decidedly galling.

"Well, give 'em a little more time," counselled V.V., lighting a pipe which looked as if it had had a hard life. "You must make some allowance for their point of view, Sam. Here's Mr. Heth, just to take an example,--not making much this year, you say, and mortgaged up pretty well, besides. Well! Just when he's probably getting worried about his book-keeping, down you drop on him and ask him as a favor to you to put up a new building, which is practically what--"

"He'll have to do it, too. If he don't do it now, I'll have a law next year that'll get him right in the neck."

"Exactly. _But_--mark my words, he won't wait for the law, now that we've got this drift going. Don't you be deceived by what he may say now in--in pique. Give him a little chance to adjust himself to the new idea, that's all. Rome wasn't built in a day, Sam--as you've said."

"Look here, old horse, what's struck you?"

"How do you mean, what's struck me?"

The two young men gazed at each other.

"You're pipin' a mighty different tune than you were when you wrote that letter. I've noticed it for some time."

The look of the fine-skinned young man at the desk changed perceptively.

O'Neill was made to feel that his remark was in questionable taste, to say the least of it.

"I wish you wouldn't speak as if I were a band of travelling bagmen. I'm not piping or tuning in any way. I say now precisely what I've said all along. Rouse these people to their responsibilities, and you can tear up your factory laws! Different cases require different methods of--"

"Why, last fall--"

"Now, Sam--here! Arguing's no good--I'll tell you what. Suppose you just leave Heth's to me. Go ahead and hammer the Pickle people if you think that'll do the slightest good. But you leave Heth's to me for a while."

"Well! That's an order," said the Commissioner, somewhat derisively, yet looking interested, too. "And what'll you do with them?"

"All that I care to say at present," replied the tall doctor, apparently choosing his words with care, "is that I--ah--feel everything's going to work out very satisfactorily in that quarter."

O'Neill stared at him, the gubernatorial cigar forgotten. "Oho!...

You've met the Heths personally?" "I've met some of them personally, as you call it,--far as that goes."

O'Neill, puffing again, digested this information speculatively.

Presently he looked knowing and laughed.

"Say, remember my saying to you, time you wrote that letter, that if you knew any of these yellow captains and horse-leeches' daughters personally, you'd feel mighty different--"

"But I don't! I don't! You don't seem to get me at all, Sam. I've just shown that my position's exactly--"

"They're a lot of Huns, and that's why they'll sh.e.l.l out thousands and modernize their plants just because you ask 'em?"

The two men eyed each other again, O'Neill good-natured and rather triumphant. V.V., for his part, was smiling just a little sternly.

"Sam," said he, "you thought I was a mad a.s.s to write a letter a few months ago. Now time pa.s.ses and you say I was quite right, and won't I please write you another in to-morrow's paper. This time, I tell you that a letter will only do harm--great harm--"

"'Phone, Doctor!" bawled a husky young voice from below. "Aw, Doctor!

'Phone!"

"All right, Tommy!" shouted Doctor.

Rising to his height, he shot at O'Neill: "And once more you'll see I'm absolutely right! I don't change, my dear fellow, the simple reason being that I've got a guiding principle that doesn't change. I must answer that 'phone."

"Well, I'll trot along with you. I've got to get on up the hill...."

They headed together for the door. By reason of the prohibitory expense, Dr. Vivian had no telephone of his own, but through the courtesy of Meeghan's Grocery just across the street (which establishment was in receipt of medical attendance gratis), the initiate could always "get a message" to him. Commissioner O'Neill, at once puzzled and somewhat impressed by his friend's air of confidence, resumed conciliatively:

"Now, jokin' aside, V.V., what's the proposition? D'you honestly think Heth can be made to clean up by your persuading his wife or daughter to ask him to? Is that it?--You met 'em at your uncle's reception, I s'pose?"

But V.V.'s reserve had fallen, like a mysterious wall between. "You say you're at the end of your rope," said he, stepping with his long stride into the hall. "Well, suppose you give me a few months, that's all."