An American Politician Part 23

The three sat in their easy-chairs round the coal fire. It was high noon in London, and the weather was moderately fine; that is to say, it was possible to read in the room without lighting the gas. X held a telegram in his hand.

"This is a perfectly clear case against us," he remarked in a quiet, business-like manner.

"It has occurred at such an unfortunate time," said Y, who spoke very slowly and distinctly, with an English accent.

"We shall do it yet," said Z, confidently.

"Gentlemen," said the president, "it will not do to hesitate. There is an individual in this case who will not let the gra.s.s grow under his feet.

His name is Mr. Patrick Ballymolloy. We all know about him, I expect?"

"I know him very well indeed," said old Z. "It was I who put him in the book." He rose quickly and took a large volume from a shelf near by. It was a sort of ledger, with the letters of the alphabet printed on the cut edges of the leaves.

"I don't believe Y knows him," said the president. "Please read him to us." Z turned over the leaves quickly.

"B--Bally--Ballymolloy-Patrick--Yes," he said, finding the place. "Patrick Ballymolloy. Irish iron man. Boston, Ma.s.s. Drinks. Takes money from both sides. Voted generally Democratic ticket. P.S. 1882, opposed B. in election for Governor. Iron interest increased. P.S. 1883, owns twenty votes in House. Costs more than he did. That is all," said Z, shutting up the book.

"Quite enough," said the president. "Mr. Patrick Ballymolloy and his twenty votes will bother us. What a pity J.H. made that speech!"

"It appears that as Patrick has grown rich, Patrick has grown fond of protection, then," remarked Y, crossing one long leg over the other.

"Exactly," said Z. "That is it. Now the question is, who owns Patrick?

Anybody know?"

"Whoever can pay for him, I expect," said the president.

"Now I have an idea," said the old man suddenly, and again he dived into the book. "Did either of you ever know a man called Vancouver?"

"Yes--I know all about him," said Y, and a contemptuous smile hinted beforehand what he thought of the man.

"I made an entry about him the other day," said the president. "You will find a good deal against his name."

"Here he is," said Z again. "Poc.o.c.k Vancouver. Railways. Rep. Boston, Ma.s.s. Was taxed in 1870 for nearly a million dollars. Weak character, very astute. Takes no money. Believed to be dissipated, but he cleverly conceals it. Never votes. Has extensive financial interests. 1880, taxed for nearly three millions. 1881, paid ten thousand dollars to Patrick Ballymolloy (D) for carrying a motion for the Monadminck Railroad (see Railroads). 1882, voted for Butler"--

"Hollo!" exclaimed the president.

"Wait," said Z, "there is more. 1883, thought to be writer of articles against J.H. in Boston 'Daily Standard.' Subsequently confirmed by J.H.

That is all."

"Yes," said the president, "that last note is mine. Harrington wired it yesterday with other things. But I was hurried and did not read his old record. Things could not be much worse. You see Harrington has no book with him, or he would know all this, and be on the lookout."

"Has he figured it out?" inquired Y.

"Yes, he has figured it out. He is a first-rate man, and he has the whole thing down cold. Ballymolloy and his twenty votes will carry the election, and if Vancouver cares he can buy Mr. Ballymolloy as he has done before.

He does care, if he is going to take the trouble to write articles against J.H., depend upon it."

"Well, there is nothing for it," said Z, who, in spite of his age, was the most impulsive of the three. "We must buy Ballymolloy ourselves, with his twenty men."

"I think that would be a mistake," said the president.

"Do you?" said Z. "What do you say?" he asked, turning to Y.

"Nothing," replied Y.

"Then we will argue it, I suppose," said Z.

"Certainly," said the president. "I will begin." He settled himself in his chair and knocked the ashes from his cigar.

"I will begin by stating the exact position," he said. "In the first place this whole affair is accidental, resulting from the death of the junior senator. No one could foresee this event. We had arranged to put in John Harrington at the regular vacancy next year, and we are now very busy with a most important business here in London. If we were on the spot, as one of us could have been had we known that the senator would die, it would have been another matter. This thing will be settled by next Sat.u.r.day at the latest, but probably earlier. I am opposed to buying Ballymolloy, because it is an uncertain purchase. He has taken money from both sides, and if he has the chance he will do it again. If we were present it would be different, for we could hold him to his bargain.

"We do not like buying, and we only do it in very urgent cases, and when we are certain of the result. To buy without certainty is simply to begin a system of reckless bribery, which is exactly what we want to put down.

Moreover, it is a bad plan to bribe a man who is interested in iron. The man in that business ought to be with us any way, without anything but a little talking to. When you have stated any reasons to the contrary I will tell you what I propose instead. That is all."

During the president's little speech, Y and Z had listened attentively.

When he had finished, Z turned in his chair and took his cigar from his lips.

"I think," said Z, "that the case is urgent. The question is just about coming to a head, and we want all the men we can get at any price. It will not do to let a chance slip. If we can put J.H. in the senate now, we may put another man in at the vacancy. That makes two men instead of one. I am aware that it would be an improbable thing to get two of our men in for Ma.s.sachusetts; but I believe it can be done, and for that reason I think we ought to make an effort to get J.H. in now. It may cost something, but I do not believe it is uncertain. I expect Vancouver is not the sort of man to spend much just for the sake of spite. The question of buying as a rule is another matter. None of us want that; but if the case is urgent I think there is no question about its being right. Of course it is a great pity J.H. said anything about protection in that speech. He did not mean to, but he could not help it, and at all events he had no idea his election was so near. If we are not certain of the result, J.H. ought to withdraw, because it will injure his chance at the vacancy to have him defeated now. That is all I have to say."

"I am of opinion," said the president, "that our best plan is to let John Harrington take his chance. You know who his opponent is, I suppose?"

"Ira C. Calvin," said Y and Z together.

"Calvin refused last night," said the president, "and they have put Jobbins in his place. Here is the telegram. It is code three," he remarked, handing it to Z.

Z read it, and his face expressed the greatest surprise.

"But Jobbins belongs to us," he cried. "He will not move hand or foot unless we advise him!"

"Of course," said the president. "But Mr. Ballymolloy does not know that, nor any other member of the Legislature. Harrington himself does not know it. Verdict, please."

"Verdict against buying," said Y.

"Naturally," said Z. "What a set of fools they are! How about withdrawing Harrington?"

"I object," said the president. "Proceed."

"I think it will injure his chance at the vacancy to have him defeated now, as I said before. That is all," said Z.

"I think it would be dangerous to withdraw him before so weak a man as Jobbins. It would hurt his reputation. Besides, our second man is in Was.h.i.+ngton arguing a case; and, after all, there is a bare chance that J.H. may win. If he does not, we win all the same, for Jobbins is in chains. Verdict, please."

Y was silent, and smoked thoughtfully. For five minutes no one spoke, and the president occupied the time in arranging some papers.

"Let him stand his chance," said Y, at last. In spite of the apparent informality of the meetings of the three, there was an unchangeable rule in their proceedings. Whenever a question arose, the member who first objected to the proposition argued the case briefly, or at length, with the proposer, and the third gave the verdict, against which there was no appeal.

These three strong men possessed between them an enormous power. It rarely happened that they could all meet together and settle upon their course of action by word of month, but constant correspondence and the use of an extensive set of telegraphic codes kept them in unbroken communication. No oaths or ceremonies bound them together, for they belonged to a small community of men which has existed from the earliest days of American independence, and which took its rise before that period.

Into this council of three, men of remarkable ability and spotless character were elected without much respect of age whenever a vacancy occurred. They worked quietly, with one immutable political purpose, with which they allowed no prejudiced party view to interfere. Always having under their immediate control some of the best talent in the country, and frequently commanding vast financial resources, these men and their predecessors had more than once turned the scale of the country's future.

They had committed great mistakes, but they had also brought about n.o.ble results. It had frequently occurred that all the three members of the council simultaneously held seats in the senate, or that one or more were high in office. More than one President since Was.h.i.+ngton had sat at one time or another in the triumvirate; secretaries of state, orators, lawyers, financiers, and philanthropists had given the best years of their lives to the duties of the council; and yet, so perfect was the organization, the tests were so careful, and so marvelously profound was the insight of the leaders into human character, that of all these men, not one had ever betrayed the confidence placed in him. In the truest sense they and their immediate supporters formed an order; an order of true men, with whom the love of justice, honor, and freedom took the place of oath and ceremonial, binding them by stronger obligations than ever bound a ring of conspirators or a community of religious zealots.