Colonel Dodd snorted emphatic approval.
“You are talking like children. Guff and growls can't carry this convention. That crowd hasn't even got a candidate for governor. Have you heard one mentioned?”
“I don't suppose they would dare to go as far as that,” said one of the committeemen. “Governor Harwood, by party usage, is entitled to a renomination, of course. What they figure on is a new state committee and a platform that will include reforms.”
“Huh! Yes! So much striped candy! Give it to 'em. Then we've got only twenty-four men to handle in the way we have always handled state committees--and even that crowd can't find saints and archangels for their candidates! And as for a political platform--bah!”
It was the practical politician's caustic estimate of conditions.
Then the chairman joined in, bolstering this supercilious view: “As for that legislature--how many bills were ever passed in our legislature over a governor's veto after we had got in our work? We are going to have a safe man for governor. That band's lungs won't last for ever. Colonel Dodd, are you ready?”
If revolt and the spirit of resentment and rebellion did exist in that assemblage, which the magnates of the party faced when they marched upon the platform, the tumult of applause covered all sinister outward aspects. The routine of the convention was entered upon: the secretary read the convention call, the organization was perfected without protest, and the orator of the day, as president pro tem, a conservative United States Senator, began his “key-note speech.” It was a document which had been in proof slips for a week, and which all the party workers from Colonel Dodd down had read and approved. Therefore, when Richard Dodd entered from one of the side doors and came tiptoeing across the platform and touched the colonel's arm and jerked energetic request for the colonel to follow, the colonel followed, glad of an excuse to be absent while the Senator fulminated.
Young Dodd's face was flushed and working with excitement. He hurried his uncle into a small retiring-room and locked the door.
“I've got your man, uncle,” he declared.
“What man?” The colonel was grouchy and indifferent.
“Your man Farr.”
“I don't claim him.”
“But you said you wanted him. You said you wanted to hang him like a dead crow in the political bean-patch.”
“Merely momentary insanity on my part, Richard. There seems to have been a little run of it in this state, and when Judge Warren caught it and gave it to me I talked like a fool, I suppose. But you must remember that a polecat can give the most level-headed man an almighty start--and then the level-headed man walks out around the polecat and goes on his way very calmly.”
“But don't you consider that Farr is a dangerous man?”
The colonel held up his pudgy hand and snapped a finger into his palm. “He amounts to that in front of the muzzle of a ten-inch gun.”
“But I went ahead after what you said. I have put out time and money. I hired a detective. I figured I was doing a good job for the machine.” Young Dodd's voice trembled and disappointment was etched into his anxious features.
“Well, what have you found out?”
“I can't tell you. It's another man's secret, and he's got to have cash or a guaranty before he'll come across with it.”
“What's the price?”
Richard Dodd exhibited confusion and hesitation. “I made some promises to him, uncle, because I know what has been paid in the past for things which didn't seem to be as important as this--judging from the way you and the judge talked. So I--well, I--”
“Price, price, I say! I'm used to hearing money talked,” harked the colonel. “I've got to get back into that convention. Out with it!” He made two steps toward the door.
“Five thousand!” blurted the young man.
Colonel Dodd whirled and whipped off his eye-glasses so as to give his nephew the full effect of his contemptuous fury.
“Why, you young lunatic, I wouldn't pay that price if they were going to elect Farr the governor of this state, and make him a present of the Consolidated, and you could bring proof that he is the reincarnation of Judas Iscariot.”
A roar of voices and a thunder of thudding feet announced that the Senator had finished.
Colonel Dodd hurried away.
The nephew found Detective Mullaney in the alley behind the auditorium, and the young man's air of discomfiture and the sagging shake of his head told the story of his errand without words.
“If they're getting too mean in their old age to hand me a fair price for a good job then let 'em get licked,” declared the detective. “You stuck to our original figure of five hundred dollars, didn't you?”
The young man looked over the detective's head and lied. “Five hundred--that's what I told him.”
“And he wouldn't consider it?”
“Something has braced him so that he isn't afraid of the man any longer. Perhaps he has got a line of his own on him. It doesn't seem to be worth anything any longer. Suppose you tell me just who he is and what about him?”
“Not on your life!” retorted Detective Mullaney, sharply. “I ain't saying anything against your family, of course, but when I give a Dodd something for nothing--even a hint--it will be when I'm talking in my sleep and don't know it. But I'll tell you what I _will_ do. Give me my two hundred and fifty and I'll hand you the whole proposition and you may go ahead and make what you can of it. I swear to you again that I've got it on him. Seeing what he did to _you_, you ought to feel that the story is worth that much of a gamble even for private purposes.”
Dodd hesitated, put his hand in his pocket--then withdrew it empty.
“No, Mullaney. What's the good? He says Farr isn't dangerous, and has turned down the whole thing flat. I may as well keep my money. If you want to sit on the platform, come along with me. I can find a place for you.”
Detective Mullaney followed willingly, for he knew that people were fairly piling over one another in an attempt to get into the hall by the main entrance.
He sat down in one of the square chairs on the platform and searched with his sharp little eyes until he found the face of Walker Farr in the terraced rows of humanity. It was not difficult to locate him, for his physique made him loom among other men and he was posted under the banner which marked the location of Moosac County.
The detective found the eyes of the young man directed toward the gallery with such intentness and for so long a time that he endeavored to trace that earnest scrutiny to its object. The detective was not exactly certain, but he finally picked out a very handsome young lady who occupied a front chair in the balcony; she seemed to be returning the young man's intent regard.
“You have the reputation of knowing all the pretty girls in the state,” whispered Mullaney, drawing Dodd's attention with a nudge. “Who is that up there in the gallery, front row, fifth from the aisle; blue feather, and so handsome she hurts my eyes?”
To have his attention drawn thus rudely to the one girl in all the world gave Dodd a sensation which he did not relish--and his face showed his astonished resentment.
“That is Miss Kilgour, who used to be my uncle's secretary. Why do you want to know who she is?”
“Because there seems to be something very especial on between her and the man we thought was worth five hundred dollars to us.”
“That young lady, Mr. Mullaney, is engaged to me,” stated Dodd, acridly. “You'd better drop the topic.”
But he did not display either the joy or the pride of the accepted suitor as he looked up at her.
“I'll simply say that you're a mighty lucky chap and I congratulate you,” returned Mr. Mullaney, hiding his confusion by getting very busy with newspaper clippings and papers which he drew from his breast pocket.
The detective was wholly unconscious of the irony of that remark. But it brought a flush of shame to Dodd's cheek, for the sorrow and sting and ignominy of that part which he had played had not departed from his soul nor did even the fervor of his passion for her help him forgive himself; he stared at her guiltily as the thief gloats over his loot and is conscious of his degradation without feeling sufficient contrition to give up the object he has stolen.
For he remembered with fresh and poignant recollection the circumstances under which that girl had given her promise to him so recently: she had stood over a mother who had abased herself before them, had cast herself down and had writhed and screamed and implored her to consent; and the mother was driven to do this by the lash of his threats. He had stood there and demanded, and the woman on the floor had confessed her frailty, owned to her misdeeds, acknowledged her debt, and had frantically begged her daughter to sacrifice herself.
The girl had given her “Yes,” paying the debt with herself; but her eyes had been wide and dry and her face was white and set and she had looked past the man to whom she promised herself when she had murmured that promise.
Dodd swept cold sweat from his forehead as he remembered; he found almost the same expression now on her face as she gazed down on Walker Farr, who stared back at her anxiously, perceiving a grief that he could not understand.