Carmen Ariza - Part 172
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Part 172

The President nodded; and the girl went rapidly on. Soon she was deep in the problem presented by Avon.

But at the mention of that town, and of its dominating genius, the President seemed to become nervous. At length he raised a hand, as if to end the interview.

"I fear I can do nothing at present," he said with an air of helplessness. "My influence is quite limited."

"But," she protested, "you have the public welfare at heart. And can you not see that public welfare is the welfare of each individual?"

"I know Mr. Ames well," the President replied, somewhat irrelevantly.

"He, like all men of great wealth, presents a serious problem, doubtless. But he himself, likewise, is confronted by problems of very trying natures. We must give him time to work them out."

The girl sighed. "It's like getting at the essence of Christianity,"

she said. "The world has had nearly two thousand years in which to do that, but it hasn't made much of a start as yet. How much time does Mr. Ames require? And how many more lives must he sacrifice?"

"But," the President resumed reflectively, "after all, it is the people who are wholly responsible for the conditions which exist among them. They have the means of remedying every economic situation, the ballot. It is really all in their hands, is it not? They elect their public officers, their judges, and their lawmakers."

Again the girl sighed. "You too," she said, "take refuge in the cant of the age. Yes, the people do try to elect public servants; but by some strange anomaly the servant becomes master the moment he enters the door of office. His thought then centers upon himself. And then they, and you, sit helplessly back and cry, No use! And if the people rise, their servants meet them with a hail of lead. It's really childishly ridiculous, isn't it? when you stop to consider it seriously."

She leaned her elbows upon the desk, and sat with chin in her hands, looking squarely into the eyes of the President.

"So you, the head of this great nation, confess to utter helplessness,"

she slowly said. "But you don't have to."

A servant entered at that moment with a card. The President glanced at it, and bade him request the caller to wait a few moments. Then, after some reflection:

"The people will always--"

The door through which the servant had pa.s.sed was abruptly thrown open, and a harsh voice preceded the entrance of a huge bulk.

"I am not accustomed to being told to wait, Mr. President," said the ungracious voice. "My appointment was for ten o'clock, and I am here to keep it."

Then the newcomer stopped abruptly, and stared in amazement at the young girl, sitting with her elbows propped upon the desk, and her face close to that of the President.

The latter rose, flushed and angry. But Ames did not notice him. His attention was centered upon the girl who sat looking calmly up at him.

A dark, menacing scowl drew his bushy eyebrows together, and made the sinister look which mantled his face one of ominous import to the person upon whom it fell.

Carmen was the first to break the tense silence. With a bright smile illuming her face she rose and held out a hand to the giant before her. "Good morning, Mr. Ames," she said. "We meet pretty often, don't we?"

Ames ignored both the greeting and the extended hand. Turning upon the President, he said sharply: "So, the Express seeks aid in the White House, eh?"

"No, Mr. Ames," said Carmen quickly, answering for the President. "It seeks to aid the White House."

Ames turned to the girl. "Might I ask," he said in a tone of mordant sarcasm, "how you learned that I was to be here this morning? I would like to employ your methods of espionage in my own business."

"I would give anything if you _would_ employ my methods in your business," returned the girl gently.

The President looked in embarra.s.sment from one to the other. "I think, Miss Carmen," he said, "that we must consider our interview ended.

This next hour belongs by appointment to Mr. Ames."

A peculiar expression had come into Ames's features. His thought had been working rapidly. Here was an opportunity for a telling stroke. He would play it. His manner suddenly became more gracious.

"Let her remain, Mr. President," he said in a tone pregnant with meaning. "I am glad to have a representative of the New York press with us to hear you express your att.i.tude toward the cotton schedule."

The President caught the insinuation. His hand was to be forced! His indignation mounted, but he checked it.

"The schedule has been reported out of committee," he replied briefly.

"It is now before Congress."

"I am aware of that," said Ames. "And your influence with Congress in regard to it?"

"I am studying the matter, Mr. Ames," returned the President slowly.

"Shall the Avon mills be closed pending a decision? Or, on the a.s.sumption that Congress will uphold the altered schedule, must the Spinners' a.s.sociation begin immediate retrenchment? As president of that a.s.sociation, I ask for instructions."

"My influence with Congress, as you well know, Mr. Ames, is quite limited," replied the hectored executive.

"It is not a question of the _amount_ of your influence with that body, Mr. President," returned Ames coldly, "but of how you will employ that which you have."

Silence lay upon them all for some moments. Then Ames resumed:

"I would remind you," he remarked with cruel insinuation, "that--or,"

glancing at the girl, "perhaps I should not make this public." He paused and awaited the effect of his significant words upon the President. Then, as the latter remained silent, he went on evenly:

"Second-term prospects, you are aware, are often very greatly influenced by public facts regarding the first election. Of course we are saying nothing that the press might use, but--well, you must realize that there is some suspicion current as to the exact manner in which your election was--"

"I think you wish to insinuate that my election was due to the Catholic vote, which you controlled in New York, and to your very generous campaign contributions, do you not? I see no reason for withholding from the press your views on the subject."

"But, my friend, this is an age of investigation, and of suspicion toward all public officials. And such rumors wouldn't look well on the front pages of the press throughout the country. Of course, our young friend here isn't going to mention them to her superiors; but, nevertheless, they ought to be suppressed at once. Their effect upon your second-term prospects would be simply annihilating. Now I am in a position to greatly a.s.sist in the matter of--well, in fact, I have already once offered my aid to the Express. And I stand ready now to join with it in giving the lie to those who are seeking to embarra.s.s the present administration. Miss Carmen is with us--"

"Mr. Ames," the girl quietly interrupted, "I wish _you_ were with _us_."

"But, my dear girl, have I--"

"For then there would be no more suffering in Avon," she added.

"Ha! Then it was you who wrote that misleading stuff in the Express, eh? I might have known it! May I ask," he added with a contemptuous sneer, "by whose authority you have visited the houses occupied by my tenants, without my permission or knowledge? I take it you were down there, although the cloudy weather must have quite dimmed your perception."

"Yes," she answered in a low voice, "I have been there. And it was _very_ cloudy. Yes, I visited your charnel houses and your cemeteries.

I saw your victims. I held their trembling hands, and stroked their hot brows. I fed them, and gave them the promise that I would plead their cause with you."

"Humph! But you first come here to--"

"It was with no thought of seeing you that I came to Washington, Mr.

Ames. If I cross your path often, it must be for a purpose not yet revealed to either of us. Perhaps it is to warn you, to awaken you, if not too late, to a sense of your desperate state."

"My desperate state!"

"Yes. You are drunk, you know, drunk with greed. And such continuous drunkenness has made you sick unto death. It is the same dread disease of the soul that the wicked Cortez told the bewildered Mexicans he had, and that could be cured only with gold. You--you don't see, Mr.

Ames, that you are mesmerized by the evil which is always using you."