Part 58

The young man did not reply. He had conceived for this stately man a sudden hero-worship. What Citizen Drew had told him was added to his own instinct in matters of the understanding of a personality. He did not dare to stop and consider to what despicable extent he was lying to his victim. He knew if he stopped to think he would quit. Now the whole affair seemed a crazy thing. Did even his proposed ends justify this procedure?

“There's a short cut through Sanson Street,” stammered Farr, the sense of his own iniquity increasing in the same ratio in which his respect and admiration grew. The honorable gentleman traveled along at a brisk jog, evidently desiring to show his apologetic mood by exhibiting confidence in his guide.

And Farr, stealing side glances at him, was more self-accusatory, more abashed. He cherished the hope that they would be able to anticipate the departure of Dodd and the confederates from the cottage. It was not clear to him just how he would make the incident serve, anyway. He was conscious that he had grasped at any opportunity which would open the ears of the Honorable Archer Converse to a person who had accosted him on the street. Finding somebody in the house would, at least, stamp his story with verity even if it served no purpose in the main intent of Farr's efforts.

But on a well-lighted street corner the young man halted suddenly.

“It's no use,” he informed the astonished Mr. Converse. “Conscience has tripped me. I can't do it.”

“Do you mean to intimate that you have been tricking me, sir?”

“I mean to say, Mr. Converse, that I had proposed to take a half-hour or so and think up some method of honestly and properly interesting you in a matter which is very dear to me--a public matter, sir. But here is how I spent that half-hour.”

Frankly, simply, convincingly he related to his amazed listener the full story of what he had found in the cottage in Rose Alley.

“And therefore I had no time to ponder on my business with you--I simply turned from the young lady, and there you were, sir, coming down the club steps. I did the very best I could on short notice--but what I did was very crude. I apologize. I suppose, under the circumstances, I may as well say 'Good-night'!” He raised his hat.

But there was something in all this which piqued Converse's curiosity.

“Wait one moment. This is getting to be interesting.”

A rather hazy conviction began to assure Farr that possibly chance had dealt a better stroke for him than well-considered planning. It was surely something to know that the honorable gentleman was interested.

“If you had had time to think out a method of approaching me--Let me see, your name is--”

“Farr.”

“Mr. Farr, supposing I had been amenable to your suggestions, what is it you wanted of me?”

“I wanted you to attend a public meeting,” blurted the young man. “They are men who need help--they need--”

“That's sufficient,” snapped Converse. “I am not in politics. I do not address public meetings. Mr. Farr, you would have wasted your time planning. Absolutely!”

“But is there not some appeal that--”

“Useless--useless, sir.” He tapped his cane, and his tones showed irritation. He whirled on his heels. “It is decidedly evident that you are a stranger in these parts, sir. On that account I forgive your presumption.”

At that moment a jigger-wagon rumbled to a halt near them. The corner light had revealed them to the driver.

“Mr. Farr,” called the man, “it hasn't taken long for the news of what you did at the meeting to-night to travel around among the boys. And we ain't going to let you get ahead of us, sir.”

“The more, the merrier, in a good cause,” said Farr; but he was staring regretfully at the back of Mr. Converse, who had begun his retreat.

“I want to tell you I'm on the executive committee of the State Teamsters Union, Mr. Farr. I've been talking the matter up and I can promise you that the union as a body will vote to lend horses and men to carry your spring-water free gratis. And I hope that gent who's starting up-town where the dudes are will tell 'em that there are honest men enough left to protect the poor folks from that poison water him and his rich friends are pumping out of the river to us.”

The Honorable Archer Converse halted his departure very suddenly.

“You are not referring to me, are you, my man?”

“I am if you're tied up with that Consolidated Water Company bunch,” stated the unterrified member of the proletariat.

Mr. Converse retraced his steps. He shook his cane at the driver.

“I want to inform you very distinctly, sir, that I am not interested in the Consolidated.”