The Conflict Part 38

"Knew what?" demanded Hastings, with a blank stare.

"No matter," said Charlton. "I know what you intend to do. Well, you'll get away with the goods. But you'll wish you hadn't. You old-fas.h.i.+oned fellows, as I've been telling you, don't realize that times have changed."

"Do you mean, Doctor, that the election is to be stolen away from you?"

inquired Jane.

"Was that what I meant, Mr. Hastings?" said Charlton.

"The side that loses always shouts thief at the side that wins," said the old man indifferently. "I don't take any interest in politics."

"Why should you?" said the Doctor audaciously. "You own both sides.

So, it's heads you win, tails I lose."

Hastings laughed heartily. "Them political fellows are a lot of blackmailers," said he.

"That's ungrateful," said Charlton. "Still, I don't blame you for liking the Davy Hull crowd better. From them you can get what you want just the same, only you don't have to pay for it."

He rose and stretched his big frame, with a disregard of conventional good manners so unconscious that it was inoffensive.

But Charlton had a code of manners of his own, and somehow it seemed to suit him where the conventional code would have made him seem cheap.

"I didn't mean to look after your political welfare, too," said he.

"But I'll make no charge for that."

"Oh, I like to hear you young fellows talk," said Martin. "You'll sing a different song when you're as old as I am and have found out what a lot of d.a.m.n fools the human race is."

"As I told you before," said Charlton, "it's conditions that make the human animal whatever it is. It's in the harness of conditions--the treadmill of conditions--the straight jacket of conditions. Change the conditions and you change the animal."

When he was swinging his big powerful form across the lawns toward the fringe of woods, Jane and her father looking after him, Jane said:

"He's wonderfully clever, isn't he?"

"A dreamer--a crank," replied the old man.

"But what he says sounds reasonable," suggested the daughter.

"It SOUNDS sensible," admitted the old man peevishly. "But it ain't what _I_ was brought up to call sensible. Don't you get none of those fool ideas into your head. They're all very well for men that haven't got any property or any responsibilities--for flighty fellows like Charlton and that there Victor Dorn. But as soon as anybody gets property and has interests to look after, he drops that kind of talk."

"Do you mean that property makes a man too blind or too cowardly to speak the truth?" asked Jane with an air of great innocence.

The old man either did not hear or had no answer ready. He said:

"You heard him say that Davy Hull was going to win?"

"Why, he said Victor Dorn was going to win," said Jane, still simple and guileless.

Hastings frowned impatiently. "That was just loose talk. He admitted Davy was to be the next mayor. If he is--and I expect Charlton was about right--if Davy is elected, I shouldn't be surprised to see him nominated for governor next year. He's a sensible, knowing fellow.

He'll make a good mayor, and he'll be elected governor on his record."

"And on what you and the other men who run things will do for him,"

suggested Jane slyly.

Her father grinned expressively. "I like to see a sensible, ambitious young fellow from my town get on," said he. "And I'd like to see my girl married to a fellow of that sort, and settled."

"I think more could be done with a man like Victor Dorn," said Jane.

"It seems to me the Davy Hull sort of politics is--is about played out.

Don't you think so?"

Jane felt that her remark was a piece of wild audacity. But she was desperate. To her amazement her father did not flare up but kept silent, wearing the look she knew meant profound reflection.

After a moment he said:

"Davy's a knowing boy. He showed that the other day when he jumped in and made himself a popular hero. He'd never 'a' been able to come anywheres near election but for that. Dorn'd 'a' won by a vote so big that d.i.c.k Kelly wouldn't 'a' dared even try to count him out....

Dorn's a better man than Davy. But Dorn's got a foolish streak in him.

He believes the foolishness he talks, instead of simply talking it to gain his end. I've been looking him over and thinking him over. He won't do, Jinny."

Was her father discussing the matter abstractly, impersonally, as he seemed? Or, had he with that uncanny shrewdness of his somehow penetrated to her secret--or to a suspicion of it? Jane was so agitated that she sat silent and rigid, trying to look unconcerned.

"I had a strong notion to try to do something for him," continued the old man. "But it'd be no use. He'd not rise to a chance that was offered him. He's set on going his own way."

Jane trembled--dared. "I believe _I_ could do something with him,"

said she--and she was pleased with the coolness of her voice, the complete absence of agitation or of false note.

"Try if you like," said her father. "But I'm sure you'll find I'm right. Be careful not to commit yourself in any way. But I needn't warn you. You know how to take care of yourself. Still, maybe you don't realize how set up he'd be over being noticed by a girl in your position. And if you gave him the notion that there was a chance for him to marry you, he'd be after you hammer and tongs. The idea of getting hold of so much money'd set him crazy."

"I doubt if he cares very much--or at all--about money," said Jane, judicially.

Hastings grinned satirically. "There ain't n.o.body that don't care about money," said he, "any more than there's anybody that don't care about air to breathe. Put a pin right there, Jinny."

"I hate to think that," she said, reluctantly, "but I'm afraid--it's--so."

As she was taking her ride one morning she met David Hull also on horseback and out for his health. He turned and they rode together, for several miles, neither breaking the silence except with an occasional remark about weather or scenery. Finally Davy said:

"You seem to be down about something, too?"

"Not exactly down," replied Jane. "Simply--I've been doing a lot of thinking--and planning--or attempt at planning--lately."

"I, too," said Davy.

"Naturally. How's politics?"

"Of course I don't hear anything but that I'm going to be elected. If you want to become convinced that the whole world is on the graft, take part in a reform campaign. We've attracted every broken-down political crook in this region. It's hard to say which crowd is the more worthless, the college amateurs at politics or these rotten old in-goods who can't get employment with either Kelly or House and, so, have joined us. By Jove, I'd rather be in with the out and out grafters--the regulars that make no bones of being in politics for the spoils. There's slimy hypocrisy over our crowd that revolts me. Not a particle of sincerity or conviction. Nothing but high moral guff."

"Oh, but YOU'RE sincere, Davy," said Jane with twinkling eyes.

"Am I?" said Davy angrily. "I'm not so d.a.m.n sure of it." Hastily, "I don't mean that. Of course, I'm sincere--as sincere as a man can be and get anywhere in this world. You've got to humbug the people, because they haven't sense enough to want the truth."

"I guess, Davy," said Jane shrewdly, "if you told them the whole truth about yourself and your party they'd have sense enough--to vote for Victor Dorn."