Part 36

Dorn moved rapidly away. Hull looked after him in surprise. At first blush he was astonished that Dorn should care so much about him as this curious interview and his emotion at its end indicated. But on reflecting his astonishment disappeared, and he took the view that Dorn was simply impressed by his personality and by his ability--was perhaps craftily trying to disarm him and to destroy his political movement which was threatening to destroy the Workingmen's League. "A very shrewd chap is Dorn," thought Davy--why do we always generously concede at least acumen to those we suspect of having a good opinion of us?--"A VERY shrewd chap. It's unfortunate he's cursed with that miserable envy of those better born and better off than he is."

Davy spent the early evening at the University Club, where he was an important figure. Later on he went to a dance at Mrs. Venable's--and there he was indeed a lion, as an unmarried man with money cannot but be in a company of ladies--for money to a lady is what soil and sun and rain are to a flower--is that without which she must cease to exist. But still later, when he was alone in bed--perhaps with the supper he ate at Mrs. Venable's not sitting as lightly as comfort required--the things Victor Dorn had said came trailing drearily through his mind. What kind of an article would Dorn print? Those facts about the campaign fund certainly would look badly in cold type--especially if Dorn had the proofs. And Hugo Galland-- Beyond question the mere list of the corporations in which Hugo was director or large stockholder would make him absurd as a judge, sitting in that district. And Hugo the son-in-law of the most offensive capitalist in that section of the State! And the deal with House, endorsed by Kelly--how nasty that would look, IF Victor had the proofs. IF Victor had the proofs. But had he?

"I MUST have a talk with Kelly," said Davy, aloud.

The words startled him--not his voice suddenly sounding in the profound stillness of his bedroom, but the words themselves. It was his first admission to himself of the vicious truth he had known from the outset and had been pretending to himself that he did not know--the truth that his reform movement was a fraud contrived by Dick Kelly to further the interests of the company of financiers and the gang of politico-criminal thugs who owned the party machinery. It is a nice question whether a man is ever allowed to go in HONEST self-deception decisively far along a wrong road. However this may be, certain it is that David Hull, reformer, was not so allowed. And he was glad of the darkness that hid him at least physically from himself as he strove to convince himself that, if he was doing wrong, it was from the highest motives and for the noblest purposes and would result in the public good--and not merely in fame and office for David Hull.

The struggle ended as struggles usually end in the famous arena of moral sham battles called conscience; and toward the middle of the following morning Davy, at peace with himself and prepared to make any sacrifice of personal squeamishness or moral idealism for the sake of the public good, sought out Dick Kelly.

Kelly's original headquarters had, of course, been the doggery in and through which he had established himself as a political power. As his power grew and his relations with more respectable elements of society extended he shifted to a saloon and beer garden kept by a reputable German and frequented by all kinds of people--a place where his friends of the avowedly criminal class and his newer friends of the class that does nothing legally criminal, except in emergencies, would feel equally at ease. He retained ownership of the doggery, but took his name down and put up that of his barkeeper. When he won his first big political fight and took charge of the public affairs of Remsen City and made an arrangement with Joe House where--under Remsen City, whenever it wearied or sickened of Kelly, could take instead Kelly disguised as Joe House--when he thus became a full blown boss he established a secondary headquarters in addition to that at Herrmann's Garden. Every morning at ten o'clock he took his stand in the main corridor of the City Hall, really a thoroughfare and short cut for the busiest part of town. With a cigar in his mouth he stood there for an hour or so, holding court, making appointments, attending to all sorts of political business.

Presently his importance and his ideas of etiquette expanded to such an extent that he had to establish the Blaine Club. Joe House's Tilden Club was established two years later, in imitation of Kelly. If you had very private and important business with Kelly--business of the kind of which the public must get no inkling, you made--preferably by telephone--an appointment to meet him in his real estate offices in the Hastings Building--a suite with entrances and exits into three separated corridors. If you wished to see him about ordinary matters and were a person who could "confer" with Kelly without its causing talk you met him at the Blaine Club. If you wished to cultivate him, to pay court to him, you saw him at Herrmann's--or in the general rooms of the club. If you were a busy man and had time only to exchange greetings with him--to "keep in touch"--you passed through the City Hall now and then at his hour. Some bosses soon grow too proud for the vulgar democracy of such a public stand; but Kelly, partly through shrewdness, partly through inclination, clung to the City Hall stand and encouraged the humblest citizens to seek him there and tell him the news or ask his aid or his advice.

It was at the City Hall that Davy Hull sought him, and found him.

Twice he walked briskly to the boss; the third time he went by slowly. Kelly, who saw everything, had known from the first glance at Hull's grave, anxious face, that the young leader of the "holy boys" was there to see him. But he ignored Davy until Davy addressed him directly.

"Howdy, Mr. Hull!" said he, observing the young man with eyes that twinkled cynically. "What's the good word?"

"I want to have a little talk with you," Davy blurted out. "Where could I see you?"

"Here I am," said Kelly. "Talk away."

"Couldn't I see you at some--some place where we'd not be interrupted? I saw Victor Dorn yesterday, and he said some things that I think you ought to know about."

"I do know about 'em," replied Kelly.

"Are you sure? I mean his threats to--to----"

As Davy paused in an embarrassed search for a word that would not hurt his own but recently soothed conscience, Kelly laughed. "To expose you holy boys?" inquired he. "To upset the nice moral campaign you and Joe House have laid out? Yes, I know all about Mr. Victor Dorn. But--Joe House is the man you want to see. You boys are trying to do me up--trying to break up the party. You can't expect ME to help you. I've got great respect for you personally, Mr. Hull. Your father--he was a fine old Republican wheel-horse. He stood by the party through thick and thin--and the party stood by him. So, I respect his son--personally. But politically--that's another matter. Politically I respect straight organization men of either party, but I've got no use for amateurs and reformers. So--go to Joe House." All this in perfect good humor, and in a tone of banter that might have ruffled a man with a keener sense of humor than Davy's.

Davy was red to his eyes, not because Kelly was laughing at him, but because he stood convicted of such a stupid political blunder as coming direct to Kelly when obviously he should have gone to Kelly's secret partner. "Dorn means to attack us all--Republicans, Democrats and Citizens' Alliance," stammered Davy, trying to justify himself.

Kelly shifted his cigar and shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't worry about his attacks on me--on US," said he. "We're used to being attacked. We haven't got no reputation for superior virtue to lose."

"But he says he can prove that our whole campaign is simply a deal between you and House and me to fool the people and elect a bad judge."

"So I've heard," said Kelly. "But what of it? You know it ain't so."

"No, I don't, Mr. Kelly," replied Hull, desperately. "On the contrary, I think it is so. And I may add I think we are justified in making such a deal, when that's the only way to save the community from Victor Dorn and his crowd of--of anarchists."

Kelly looked at him silently with amused eyes.

"House can't do anything," pursued Davy. "Maybe YOU can. So I came straight to you."

"I'm glad you're getting a little political sense, my boy," said Kelly. "Perhaps you're beginning to see that a politician has got to be practical--that it's the organizations that keeps this city from being the prey to Victor Dorns."

"I see that," said Davy. "I'm willing to admit that I've misjudged you, Mr. Kelly--that the better classes owe you a heavy debt--and that you are one of the men we've got to rely on chiefly to stem the tide of anarchy that's rising--the attack on the propertied classes--the intelligent classes."

"I see your eyes are being opened, my boy," said Kelly in a kindly tone that showed how deeply he appreciated this unexpected recognition of his own notion of his mission. "You young silk stocking fellows up at the University Club, and the Lincoln and the Jefferson, have been indulging in a lot of loose talk against the fellows that do the hard work in politics--the fellows that helped your fathers to make fortunes and that are helping you boys to keep 'em. If I didn't have a pretty level head on me, I'd take my hands off and give Dorn and his gang a chance at you. I tell you, when you fool with that reform nonsense, you play with fire in a powder mill."

"But I--I had an idea that you wanted me to go ahead," said Davy.