The Governors Part 22

You know that since I became editor and part proprietor of the _Post_ I have tried to take up a strong position with regard to our modern commercial methods."

"You mean," his host interrupted, "that you have taken sides against the Trusts?"

"Exactly!" Vine answered. "Of course, from a money-making point of view I know that it was a mistake. The paper scarcely pays its way now, and I seem to find enemies wherever I turn, and in whatever way I seek to develop it as a proprietor. However, we have held our own so far, although I don't mind telling you that we have been hard pushed. Well, a few days before I left New York there came into my hands, I won't say how, a most extraordinary doc.u.ment. Of course, you know within the last few months the Trusts have provoked an enmity far greater and more dangerous than mine."

His host nodded.

"I should say so," he answered. "I am told that you are going to see very exciting times over there."

"The first step," Vine continued, "has already been taken. There is a bill coming before the Senate very shortly, which, if it is pa.s.sed into law, will strike at the very foundation of all these great corporations.

Five of the men most likely to be affected met together one night, and four of them signed a doc.u.ment, guaranteeing a fund of one million dollars for the purpose of bribing certain members of the Senate, who had already been approached, and whose names are also upon the doc.u.ment.

You must not ask me how or in what manner, but that doc.u.ment has come into my possession."

Vine's companion looked at him in astonishment.

"Are you sure of your facts, Vine?" he asked. "Are you sure that the thing is not a forgery?"

"Absolutely certain!" Vine answered.

"Then you know, of course," his host continued, "that you hold all these men in the hollow of your hand."

"Yes, I know it," Vine answered, "and so do they! They have offered me a million dollars already for the doc.u.ment, but I have declined to sell.

While I considered what to do, I thought it better, for more reasons than one, that I did not remain in New York."

"I should say so," the other remarked softly. "This is a big thing, Vine. I could have scarcely realized it."

He rose to his feet, and took a few quick steps backwards and forwards.

The two men were sitting in wicker chairs on a small flat s.p.a.ce on the roof of the American Emba.s.sy in Ormonde Square. Vine's host, tall, with shrewd, kindly face, the stoop of a student, and the short uneven footsteps of a near-sighted man, was the amba.s.sador himself. He had been more famous, perhaps, in his younger days, as Philip Deane, the man of letters, than as a diplomatist. His appointment to London had so far been a complete success. He had shown himself possessed of shrewd and far-reaching common sense, for which few save those who had known him well, like Norris Vine, had given him credit. He stood now with his back to Vine, looking down across the Square below, glittering with lights aflame with the busy night life of the great city. The jingle of hansom bells, and the distant roar of traffic down one of the great thoroughfares, was never out of their ears; but in this place, cut off from the house by the trap-door through which they had climbed, it was cooler by far than the smoking-room, which they had deserted half an hour before.

For some reason Deane seemed to wish to let the subject rest for a moment. He stood close to the little parapet, looking towards the horizon, watching the dull glare of lights, whose concentrated reflection was thrown upon a bank of heavy clouds.

"You have not told me, Norris," he remarked, "what you think of my attempted roof-garden."

"It is cool, at any rate," Norris Vine answered. "I wonder why one always feels the heat more in London than anywhere else in the world."

"It is because they have been so unaccustomed to it over here that they have made no preparations to cope with it," Deane answered. "Then think of the size of the place! What miles of pavements, and wildernesses of slate roofs, to attract the sun and keep out the fresh air. Vine, who are these men?" he asked, turning towards him abruptly.

Norris Vine smiled.

"Don't you think," he said, "that you can give me your advice better if you do not know? I can tell you this, at any rate. They are men who deserve whatever may happen to them. They are not of your world, my friend. They are the men who have sucked the life-blood out of many and many a prosperous town-village in our country. Don't think that I hesitate for one moment for their sakes. I tell you frankly that my first idea was to give the whole thing away in the _Post_."

"It would have been," Deane remarked, with a faint smile, "the biggest journalistic scoop of the century."

Vine nodded.

"Well," he said, "I should have done it but for one man's advice. It was John Drayton who showed me what the other side of the thing might be. He pointed out that the innocent would suffer for the guilty, in fact hundreds, perhaps thousands, of the innocent, would be ruined that these few men might be punished. It was his belief that the publication of this doc.u.ment, and the arrest of the men concerned in it, would cause the worst panic that had ever been known in America. That is why I stayed my hand and came over here to consult you."

The amba.s.sador sighed, as he resumed his seat and lit another cigar.

"Drayton was right," he remarked softly. "He is a man of common sense, and yet we must remember that great reforms are never inst.i.tuted without sacrifices. Could the country stand such a sacrifice as this? It is not a matter to be decided in a moment."

"There is no need for haste," Vine answered. "I have the doc.u.ment with me, and I do not mean to do anything in a hurry. Think it all over, Deane, and tell me when I may come and see you again."

"Whenever you will," the amba.s.sador answered, heartily. "You know very well that I am always glad to see you. By the by, do you carry this doc.u.ment about with you?"

Vine shook his head.

"No!" he answered drily. "I have too much regard for my personal safety. The men whose names are there are fairly desperate, and they would not stick at a trifle to get rid of me."

"You are very wise," Deane answered. "I should take care even over here.

I have heard of strange things happening in London. Oh, that reminds me.

A young lady was here only two days ago, asking for your address."

"Did she leave her name?" Vine asked, with a faint curiosity.

"I think not," the amba.s.sador answered. "Wolfe saw her, and I asked him the question particularly."

"I cannot imagine whom she could have been," Vine said, thoughtfully. "I have not many acquaintances over here."

"Another man who was asking after you," Deane remarked, "was Littleson.

He was dining here last night."

Vine smiled.

"I can imagine," he said, "his being curious as to my whereabouts. I have taken rooms where I don't think any one is likely to find me out except by accident."

Deane rose.

"I think," he said, "we had better go downstairs. The ladies will be wondering what has become of us. My wife is expecting a young woman in this evening whom I think you know--Stella Duge."

Vine started slightly.

"Yes," he said, "I have met Miss Duge often in New York."

CHAPTER V

A QUESTION OF COURAGE

Stella turned towards him with a slight frown upon her forehead.

"Do you mean, Norris, then, that after all you will not use your power over these men, that you will let them go free?"

"Not if I can help it," he answered, "but there are many things to be considered. I shall be guided largely by what Deane advises."

"It is absurd," she declared. "You have wanted money all your life, money and power. You have both now in your grasp. If you do not use them, I shall think--"