Part 69

“Colonel Dodd, I think--really--that I'm representing you when I give you mighty good advice and do not charge for it.”

“I've got my own lawyers, Mr. Converse.”

Both men were employing politeness that was grim, and they were swapping glances as duelists slowly chafe swords, awaiting an opening.

Sullen anger was taking possession of the colonel, thus bearded.

Righteous indignation, born from his bitterness of the past few days, made Converse's eyes flash.

“You are one of the richest men in this state, Colonel Dodd, and your money has come to you from the pockets of the people--tolls from thousands of them. Remember that!”

“Huh!” snorted the colonel, looking up at a bouquet.

It is not often given to men to place proper estimate on their own limitations. Otherwise, the Honorable Archer Converse would never have gone in person to prevail upon Colonel Symonds Dodd. In temperament and ethics they were so far asunder that conference between them on a common topic was as hopeless an undertaking as would be argument between a tiger and a lion over the carcass of a sheep.

Mr. Converse rose, unfolding himself with dignified angularity.

“I must remind you, sir, that I belong to the political party of which you assume to be boss. If you refuse to give common justice to the people, then you are using that party to cover iniquity.”

Colonel Dodd worked himself out of his chair and stood up. “I am taking no advice from you, sir, as to how I shall manage business or politics.”

“Perhaps, sir, in regard to your business I can only exhort you to be honest, but as regards the party which my honored father led to victory in this state I have something to say, by gad! sir, when I see it being led to destruction.”

“Well, sir, what have you to say?”

“I will not stand by and allow it to be ruined by men who are using it to protect their methods in business dealings.”

“What ice do you think you cut in the politics of this state?” inquired the colonel, dropping into the vernacular of the politician, too angry to deal in any more grim politeness.

“Not the kind you are cutting, sir--your political ice is like the ice you cut from the poisoned rivers.”

“It seems to be still popular for cranks to come here and threaten me,” sneered the colonel. “It was started a while ago by a shock-headed idiot from the Eleventh Ward.”

The Honorable Archer Converse displayed prompt interest which surprised the colonel. “A young man from the Eleventh Ward? Was he tall and rather distinguished-looking?”

Colonel Dodd snorted his disgust. “Distinguished-looking! He threatened me, and I had him followed. He's a ward heeler. Better look him up!” His choler was driving him to extremes. He was pricked by his caller's high-bred stare of disdain. “He seems to be another apostle of the people who wants to tell me how to run my own business. Yes, you better look him up, Converse.”

“Very well, sir! If he came in here and tried to tell you the truth about yourself he's worth knowing. Furthermore, I think I do know him.”

“Ah, one of those you train with, eh? Do you like him?”

It was biting sarcasm, but to the colonel's disappointment it did not appear to affect his caller in the least. Converse even smiled--a most peculiar sort of smile.

“I must say, sir, that I have been hating him cordially.”

The colonel grunted approbation.

“But from now on, sir, for reasons best known to myself, I'm going to make that young man my close and particular friend. You'll hear from us later.”

He bowed stiffly and went out, leaving Colonel Dodd staring after him with his square face twisted into an expression of utter astonishment, his little eyes goggling, his tuft of whisker sticking up like an exclamation-point.

“The first appropriation the next legislature makes,” he soliloquized, “will have to be money enough to build a new wing on the insane-hospital. They're all going crazy in this state, from aristocrats to tramps.”

XXII