The Voice of the People Part 47
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The colonel was Diggs, and, after a curt nod in his direction, Galt pushed his way through the lobbyists and glanced into the House of Delegates, where an animated discussion of an oyster bill was in progress.
Owing to the absolute supremacy of the Democrats, the body presented the effect of a party caucus rather than a legislative branch of opposing elements. The few Republicans and Populists were lost in the ruling faction.
Galt was nodding here and there to members who recognised him, when his arm was touched by a lank countryman who was standing near.
"Eh?" he inquired absently.
"I jest axed you if you reckoned we paid that gentleman over yonder for talking that gosh about oyschers?"
Galt bowed. "Why, I suppose so," he responded gravely. "It's a good day's work. Am I to presume that you are not interested in oysters?"
"An' he gits fo' dollars a day for saying them things," commented the other shortly. "I tell you 'tain't wo'th fo' cents, suh."
He lifted his bony hand and gave a tug at his scraggy beard. In a moment he spoke again.
"Can you p'int out the young fellow from Goochland?" he inquired.
"That's whar I come from."
Galt pointed out the representative in question, and smiled because it was a man who had dined with him the evening before.
"That he?" exclaimed the countryman contemptuously. "Why, I've been down here sence Sat.u.r.day, an' that young spark ain't opened his mouth. I ain't heerd him mention Goochland sence I come."
"Oh, there's time enough," ventured Galt good-humouredly. "He's young yet, and Goochland is immortal!"
"An' I reckon he gits fo' dollars same as the rest," went on the stranger reflectively, "jest for settin' thar an' whittlin' at that desk. I used to study a good deal about politics fo' I come here, but they air jest a blamed swindle, that's what they air."
He turned on his heel, and in a moment Galt entered the elevator and ascended to the office of the chief executive.
Reaching the landing he crossed a small gallery, where hung portraits of historic Virginians--governors in periwigs and lace ruffles and statesmen of a later age in high neckcloths. At the end of a short pa.s.sage he opened the door of the anteroom and faced the private secretary, who was busy with his typewriter.
The secretary glanced up, recognised Galt, and gave a cordial nod.
"The governor's got a gentleman in just now who called about the boundary line between Virginia and Maryland," he said as Galt sat down.
"He wants to see you, though, so you'd better wait. For a wonder there's n.o.body else here. Two-thirds of the legislature were up a while ago."
He spoke with an easy intimacy of tone, while the click of the typewriter went on rapidly.
Galt nodded in response and, as he did so, the door opened and the caller came out.
"You're the very man!" exclaimed a hearty voice, and Nicholas Burr was holding out his hand. "Come in. You're the only human being I know who is always the right man in the right place. How do you manage it?"
He sat down before his desk, pus.h.i.+ng aside the litter of letters and pamphlets. "I should like you to glance over this list of appointments,"
he went on.
"It is what I dropped in about," responded Galt.
He flung himself into an easy chair and stretched his long legs comfortably before him. He did not take the list at once, but sat staring abstractedly at the freshly papered green walls above the large Latrobe stove whose isingla.s.s doors shone like bloodshot eyes.
It was a long cheerful room with three windows which overlooked the gra.s.sy square. There was a bright red carpet on the floor, and before the desk lay a gaudy rug enriched with stiff garlands. In one corner a walnut bookcase was filled with papers filed for reference, and the shelves across from it were lined with calf-bound "Codes of Virginia."
Among the pictures on the pale-green walls there were several of historic subjects--Was.h.i.+ngton among his generals and Lee mounted upon Traveller. Over the mantel hung an engraving of the United States Senate with Clay for the central figure. Beside the desk a cracker box was filled with unanswered letters.
"Yes, I dropped in about that," repeated Galt, his gaze returning to the rugged features of the man at the desk. "You're not looking well, by the way."
The other laughed. "The office seekers have been at me," he replied; "but I'm all right. What were you going to say?"
His large, muscular hand lay upon the desk, and as he spoke he fingered an open pamphlet. His penetrating eyes were on Galt's face.
Galt lifted the list of names and read it in silence.
"A-ahem!" he said at last and laid it down; then he took it up again.
"I have given a good deal of attention to the educational boards,"
continued the governor slowly.
"I do not think it is sufficiently realised that only men of the highest ability should be placed in control of inst.i.tutions of learning."
"Ah, I see," was Galt's comment. In a moment he spoke abruptly:
"I say, Nick, has it occurred to you to ascertain the direction in which the influence of these men will go in the next senatorial election?"
The other hesitated an instant. "Frankly, I have done my best to put such questions aside," he answered.
Galt squared round suddenly and faced him; there was a decisive ring in his voice.
"The next election comes in two years," he said quietly. "I have it on excellent authority that Withers will not seek to succeed himself. His health has given out and he is going to the country. Now, remove Withers, and there are two men who might take his place in the Senate.
You know whom I mean?"
"Yes, I know."
Galt went on quickly:
"You want the senators.h.i.+p?"
"Yes, I want it."
"Very good. Now, Webb and yourself will run that race, and one of you will lose it. It's going to be a hot race and a hard winning. There'll be some pretty unpleasant work to be done by somebody. You've been in the business long enough to know that the methods aren't exactly such as you can see your face in."
"All the more need for clean men," broke in Nicholas shortly.
"Just so. But the man who spends his days in the bathtub doesn't walk about where mud is flinging. I'm an honest man, please G.o.d. You're an honest man, and that's why a lot of us are running you with might and main and money. But there's an honesty that verges on imbecility, and that's the kind that talks itself hoa.r.s.e when it ought to keep silent.
Save your talking until you get to the Senate, and then let fly as much morality as you please; it won't hurt anybody there, heaven knows. You are the man we need, and a few of us know it, though the majority may not. But for the next two years give up trying to purify the Democratic Party. The party's all right, and it's going to stay so."
"It has been my habit to express my convictions," returned the other quickly.
"Then drop the habit," replied Galt with an affectionate glance that softened the shrewd alertness of his look. "My dear and valued friend, a successful politician does not have convictions; he has emotions.
Convictions were all right when Madison was President, but that gentleman has been in heaven these many years, and they don't thrive under the present administration. A party man has got to be a party mouthpiece. He may laugh and weep with the people, but he has got to vote with the party--and it's the party man who comes out on top. Why, look at Withers! Hunt about in his senatorial record and you'll find that he has voted against himself time out of number. You and I may call that cowardliness, but the party calls it honour and applauds every time. That applause has kept him the exponent of the machine and the idol of the people, who hear the fuss and imagine it means something.
Now Webb is like Withers, only smarter. He is just the man to become a sounding bra.s.s reflector, and there's the danger."
"And yet I defeated him!" suggested the governor.
The Voice of the People Part 47
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The Voice of the People Part 47 summary
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