Part 34

"On the contrary, much worse," replied Victor unruffled. "But we're educating ourselves so that, when our time comes, we'll not do so badly."

"You'll have plenty of time for education," said Davy.

"Plenty," said Victor. "But why are you angry? Because you realize now that your reform candidate for judge is of Dick Kelly's selecting?"

"Kelly didn't propose Hugo Galland," cried Davy hotly. "I proposed him myself."

"Was his the first name you proposed?"

Something in Dorn's tone made Davy feel that it would be unwise to yield to the impulse to tell a lie--for the highly moral purpose of silencing this agitator and demagogue.

"You will remember," pursued Victor, "that Galland was the sixth or seventh name you proposed--and that Joe House rejected the others. He did it, after consulting with Kelly. You recall--don't you?--that every time you brought him a name he took time to consider?"

"How do you know so much about all this?" cried Davy, his tone suggesting that Victor was wholly mistaken, but his manner betraying that he knew Victor was right.

"Oh, politicians are human," replied Dorn. "And the human race is loose-mouthed. I saw years ago that if I was to build my party I must have full and accurate information as to all that was going on. I made my plans accordingly."

"Galland is an honest man--rich--above suspicion--above corruption--an ideal candidate," said Davy.

"He is a corporation owner, a corporation lawyer--and a fool," said Victor. "As I've told you, all Dick Kelly's interest in this fall's local election is that judgeship."

"Galland is my man. I want to see him elected. If Kelly's for Galland, so much the better. Then we're sure of electing him--of getting the right sort of a man on the bench."

"I'm not here to argue with you about politics, Davy," said Victor. "I brought you here because I like you--believe in your honesty--and don't want to see you humiliated. I'm giving you a chance to save yourself ."

"From what?" inquired Hull, not so valiant as he pretended to be.

"From the ridicule and disgrace that will cover this reform movement, if you persist in it."

Hull burst out laughing. "Of all the damned impudence!" he exclaimed. "Dorn, I think you've gone crazy ."

"You can't irritate me, Hull. I've been giving you the benefit of the doubt. I think you are falling into the commonest kind of error--doing evil and winking at evil in order that a good end may be gained. Now, listen. What are the things you reformers are counting on to get you votes this fall."

Davy maintained a haughty silence.

"The traction scandals, the gas scandals and the paving scandals--isn't that it?"

"Of course," said Davy.

"Then--why have the gas crowd, the traction crowd and the paving crowd each contributed twenty-five thousand dollars to your campaign fund?"

Hull stared at Victor Dorn in amazement. "Who told you that lie?" he blustered.

Dorn looked at him sadly. "Then you knew? I hoped you didn't, Hull. But--now that you're facing the situation squarely, don't you see that you're being made a fool of? Would those people put up for your election if they weren't SURE you and your crowd were THEIR crowd?"

"They'll find out!" cried Hull.

"You'll find out, you mean," replied Victor. "I see your whole programme, Davy. They'll put you in, and they'll say, 'Let us alone and we'll make you governor of the State. Annoy us, and you'll have no political future.' And you'll say to yourself, 'The wise thing for me to do is to wait until I'm governor before I begin to serve the people. THEN I can really do something.' And so, you'll be THEIR mayor--and afterward THEIR governor--because they'll hold out another inducement. Anyhow, by that time you'll be so completely theirs that you'll have no hope of a career except through them."

After reading how some famous oration wrought upon its audience we turn to it and wonder that such tempests of emotion could have been produced by such simple, perhaps almost commonplace words. The key to the mystery is usually a magic quality in the tone of the orator, evoking before its hypnotized hearers a series of vivid pictures, just as the notes of a violin, with no aid from words or even from musical form seem to materialize into visions.

This uncommon yet by no means rare power was in Victor Dorn's voice, and explained his extraordinary influence over people of all kinds and classes; it wove a spell that enmeshed even those who disliked him for his detestable views. Davy Hull, listening to Victor's simple recital of his prospective career, was so wrought upon that he sat staring before him in a kind of terror.

"Davy," said Victor gently, "you're at the parting of the ways. The time for honest halfway reformers--for political amateurs has passed. 'Under which king, Bezonian? Speak or die!'--that's the situation today."