"I plugged that d.a.m.n pie-face!"

Nathan Perry, the practical young man sitting in the Fourth ward delegation, heard the Judge and nudged Morty Sands. Morty Sands's sporting blood rose in him. "The pup," he whispered to Nate. "He's taking a shot at Laura."

The crowd gradually grew calm. There being no further discussion, Captain Morton put the motion of Joseph Calvin to let the majority of the convention name all delegates to the superior conventions. The roar of ayes overwhelmed the blat of noes. It was clear that the Calvin motion had carried. The Doctor was defeated. But before the chair announced the vote the pompadour of the little man rose quickly as he stood in the middle aisle and asked in his piping treble for a vote by wards and precincts.

In the moment of silence that followed the Doctor's suggestion, Nathan Perry's face, which gradually had been growing stony and hard, cracked in a mean smile as he leaned over to Morty and whispered:

"Morty, can you stand for that--that d.a.m.ned hound's snap at Laura Van?

By grabby I can't--I won't!"

"Well, let's raise h.e.l.l, Nate--I'm with you. I owe him nothing," said the guileless and amiable Morty.

Judge Van Dorn rose grandly and with great elegance of diction agreed with the Doctor's "excellent suggestion." So tickets were pa.s.sed about containing the words yes and no, and hats were pa.s.sed down delegation lines and the delegates put the ballots in the hats and the chairmen of delegations appointed tellers and so the ballots were counted. When the Fourth ward balloting was finished, Judge Van Dorn looked puzzled. He was three votes short of unanimity. His vanity was p.r.i.c.ked. He believed he had a solid delegation and proposed to have it. When in the roll call the Fourth ward delegation was reached (it was the fourth precinct on the secretary's roll) the Judge, as chairman of the Fourth warders, rose, blandly and complacently, and announced: "Ward Four casts twenty-five votes 'yes' and three votes 'no.' I demand a poll of the delegation."

George Brotherton rose when the clerk of the convention called the roll and voted a weak, husky 'no' and sat down sheepishly under the Judge's glare.

Down the list came the clerk reading the names of delegates. Finally he called "Mortimer Sands," and the young man rose, smiling and calm, and looking the Judge fairly in the eye cried, "I vote no!"

Then pandemonium broke loose. The convention was bedlam. The friends of the Judge were confounded. They did not know what it meant.

The clerk called Nathan Perry.

"No," he cried as he looked maliciously into the Judge's beady eyes.

Then there was no doubt. For the relations of Wright & Perry were so close to Daniel Sands that no one could mistake the meaning of young Perry's vote, and then had not the whole town read of the "showers" for Anne Sands? Those who opposed the Judge were whispering that the old spider had turned against the Judge. Men who were under obligations to the Traders' Bank were puzzled but not in doubt. There was a general buzzing among the delegations. The desertion of Mortimer Sands and Nathan Perry was one of those wholly unexpected events that sometimes make panics in politics. The Judge could see that in one or two cases delegations were balloting again. "Fifth ward," called the clerk.

"Fifth ward not ready," replied the chairman.

"Hanc.o.c.k township, Soldier precinct," called the clerk.

"Soldier precinct not ready," answered the chairman.

The next precinct cast its vote No, and the next precinct cast its vote 7 yes and 10 no and a poll was demanded and the vote was a tie. The power of the name of Sands in Greeley county was working like a yeast.

"Well, boys," whispered Mr. Brotherton to Morty as two townships were pa.s.sed while they were reballoting, "Well, boys--you sure have played h.e.l.l." He was mopping his red brow, and to a look of inquiry from Morty Mr. Brotherton explained: "You've beaten the Judge. They all think that it's your father's idea to knife him, and the foremen of the mines who are running these county delegations and the South Harvey contingent are changing their votes--that's how!"

In another instant Morty Sands was on his feet. He stood on a seat above the crowd, a slim, keen-faced, oldish figure. When he called upon the chairman a hush fell over the crowd. When he began to speak he could feel the eyes of the crowd boring into him. "I wish to state," he said hesitatingly, then his courage came, "that my vote against this resolution, was due entirely to the inferential endors.e.m.e.nt of Judge Thomas Van Dorn," this time the anti-Van Dorn roar was overwhelming, deafening, "that the resolution contained."

Another roar, it seemed to the Judge as from a pit of beasts, greeted this period. "But I also wish to make it clear," continued the young man, "that in this position I am representing only my own views. I have not been instructed by my father how to cast this ballot. For you know as well as I how he would vote." The roar from the anti-Van Dorn crowd came back again, stronger than ever. The convention had put its own interpretation upon his words. They knew he was merely making it plainer that the old spider had caught Judge Van Dorn in the web, and for some reason was sucking out his vitals. Morty sat down with the sense of duty well done, and again Mr. Brotherton leaned over and whispered, "Well, you did a good job--you put the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs on right--h.e.l.lo, we're going to vote again." Again the young man jumped to his feet and cried amid the noise, which sank almost instantly as they saw who was trying to speak: "I tell you, gentlemen, that so far as I know my father is for Judge Van Dorn," but the crowd only laughed, and it was evident that they thought Morty was playing with them. As Morty Sands sat down Nathan Perry rose and in his high, strong, wire-edged tenor cried: "Men, I'm voting only myself. But when a man shows doghair as Judge Van Dorn showed it to this convention in that question to Grant Adams--all h.e.l.l can't hold me to--" But the roar of the crowd drowned the close of the sentence. The mob knew nothing of the light that had dawned in Nathan Perry's heart. The crowd knew only that the son and the future son-in-law of the old spider had turned on Van Dorn, and that he was marked for slaughter so it proceeded with the butchering which gave it great personal felicity. Men howled their real convictions and Tom Van Dorn's universe tottered. He tried to speak, but was howled down.

"Vote--vote, vote," they cried. The Fourth ward balloted again and the vote stood "Yes, fifteen, no, twelve," and the proud face of the suave Judge Van Dorn turned white with rage, and the red scar flickered like lightning across his forehead. The voting could not proceed. For men were running about the room, and Joseph Calvin was hovering over the South Harvey delegation like a buzzard. Morty Sands suspected Calvin's mission. The young man rose and ran to Dr. Nesbit and whispered: "Doctor, Nate's got seven hundred dollars in the bank--see what Calvin is doing? I can get it up here in three minutes. Can you use it to help?"

The Doctor ran his hand over his graying pompadour and smiled and shook his head. In the din he leaned over and piped. "Touch not, taste not, handle not, Morty--I've sworn off. Teetotler," he laughed excitedly.

Young Sands saw a bill flash in Mr. Calvin's hands and disappear in d.i.c.k Bowman's pockets.

"No law against it," chirped the Doctor, "except G.o.d Almighty's, and He has no jurisdiction in Judge Tom's district."

As they stood watching Calvin peddle his bills the convention saw what he was doing. A fear seized the decent men in the convention that all who voted for Van Dorn would be suspected of receiving bribes. The balloting proceeded. In five minutes the roll call was finished. Then before the result was announced George Brotherton was on his feet saying, "The Fourth ward desires to change her vote," and while Brotherton was announcing the complete desertion of the Fourth ward delegation, Judge Van Dorn left the hall. Men in mob are cruel and mad, and the pack howled at the vain man as he slunk through the crowd to the door.

After that, delegation after delegation changed its vote and before the result was announced Mr. Calvin withdrew his motion, and the spent convention only grunted its approval. Then it was that Mugs Bowman crowded into the room and handed Nathan Perry this note scrawled on brown butcher's paper in a hand he knew. "I have this moment learned that you are a delegate and must take a public stand. Don't let a word I have said influence you. I stand by you whatever you do. Use your own judgment; follow your conscience and 'with G.o.d be the rest.'" "A. S."

Nathan Perry folded the note, and as he put it in his vest pocket he felt the proud beat of his heart. Fifteen minutes later when the convention adjourned for noon, Nathan and Morty Sands ran plumb into Thomas Van Dorn, sitting in the back room of the bank, wet eyed and blubbering. The Judge was slumped over the big, shining table, his jaws trembling, his hands fumbling the ink stands and paper weights. His eyes were staring and nervous, and beside him a whiskey bottle and gla.s.s told their story. The man rose, holding the table, and shrieked:

"You d.a.m.ned little fice dog, you--" this to Morty, "you--you--" Morty dashed around the table toward the Judge, but before he could reach the man to strike, the Judge was moving his jaws impotently, and grasping the thin air. His mouth foamed as he fell and he lay, a shivering, white-eyed horror, upon the floor. The bank clerks lifted the figure to a leather couch, and some one summoned Doctor Nesbit.

The Doctor saw the whiskey bottle half emptied and saw the white faced, prostrate figure. The Doctor sent the clerks from the room as he worked with the unconscious man, and piped to Morty as he worked, "Nothing serious--heat--temper, whiskey--and vanity and vexation of spirit; 'vanity of vanities--all is vanity--saith the preacher.'" Morty and Nathan left the room as the man's eyes opened and the Doctor with a woman's tenderness brought the wretched, broken, shattered bundle of pride back to consciousness.

For years this became George Brotherton's favorite story. He first told it to Henry Fenn thus:

"Say, Henry, lemme tell you about old man Sands. He come in here the day after he got back from Chicago to wrestle with me for letting Morty vote against Tom. Well--say--I'm right here to tell you that was some do--all right, all right! You know he thought I got Morty and Nate to vote that way and the old spider came hopping in here like a granddaddy long-legs and the way he let out on your humble--well, say--say! Holler--you'd orto heard him holler! Just spat pizen--wow! and as for me who'd got the lad into the trouble--as for me," Mr. Brotherton paused, folded his hand over his expansive abdomen and sighed deeply, as one who recalls an experience too deep for language. "Well, say--I tried to tell him I didn't have anything to do with it, but he was wound up with an eight-day spring! I knew it was no use to talk sense to him while he was batting his lights at me like a drunk switchman on a dark night, but when he was clean run down I leans over the counter and says as polite as a pollywog, 'Most kind and n.o.ble duke,' says I, 'you touch me deeply by your humptious words!' says I, 'let me a.s.sure you, your kind and generous sentiments will never be erased from the tablets of my most grateful memory'--just that way.

"Well, say--" and here Mr. Brotherton let out his laugh that came down like the cataract at Ladore, "pretty soon Morty sails in fresh as a daisy and asks:

"'Father been in here?'

"'Check one father,' says I.

"'Raising h.e.l.l?' he asks.

"'Check one h.e.l.l,' says I.

"'Well, sir,' says he, 'I'm exceedingly sorry.'

"'One sorrow check,' says I.

"'Sincerely and truly sorry, George,' he repeats and 'Two sorrows check,' I repeats and he goes on: 'Look here, George, I know father, and until I can get the truth into him, which won't be for a week or two, I suppose he may try to ruin you!'

"'Check one interesting ruin,' says I.

"But he brought down his hand on the new case till I shuddered for the gla.s.s, and well, say--what do you think that boy done? He pulls out a roll of money big enough to choke a cow and puts it on the case and says: 'I sold my launch and drew every dollar I had out of the bank before father got home. Here, take it; you may need it in your business until father calms down.'

"Wasn't that white! I couldn't get him to put the roll back and along comes Cap Morton, and when I wouldn't take it the old man glued on to him, and I'm a goat if Morty didn't lend it to the Captain, with the understanding I could have it any time inside of six months, and the Captain could use it afterward. That's where the Captain got his money to build his shop."

It cost Daniel Sands five thousand dollars in hard earned money, not that he earned the money, but it was hard-earned nevertheless, to undo the work of that convention, and nominate and elect Thomas Van Dorn district Judge upon an independent ticket. And even when the work was done, the emptiness of the honor did not convince the Judge that this is not a material world. He hugged the empty honor to his heart and made a vast pretense that it was real.

CHAPTER XXIX

BEING NOT A CHAPTER BUT AN INTERLUDE

Here and now this story must pause for a moment. It has come far from the sunshine and prairie gra.s.s where it started. Tall elm trees have grown from the saplings that were stuck in the sod thirty years before, and they limit the vision. No longer can one see over the town across the roofs of Market Street into the prairie. No longer even can one see from Harvey the painted sky at night that marks South Harvey and the industrial towns of the Wahoo Valley. Harvey is shut in; we all are sometimes by our comforts. The dreams of the pioneers that haloed the heads of those who came to Harvey in those first days--those dreams are gone. Here and there one is trapped in brick or wood or stone or iron; and another glows in a child or walks the weary ways of man as a custom or an inst.i.tution or as a law that brought only a part of the blessings which it promised.

And the equality of opportunity for which these pioneers crossed the Mississippi and came into the prairie uplands of the West--where is that evanescent spirit? Certainly it touched Daniel Sands's shoulder and he followed it; it beckoned Dr. Nesbit and he followed it a part of the journey. Surely Kyle Perry saw it for years, and Captain Morton was destined to find it, gorgeous and iridescent. Amos Adams might have had it for the asking, but he sought it only for others. It never came to Dooley and Hogan, and Williams and Bowman and those who went into the Valley. Did it die, one may ask; or did it vanish like a prairie stream under the sand to flow on subterranean and appear again strong, purified and refreshed, a powerful current to carry mankind forward? The world that was in the flux of dreams that day when Harvey began, had hardened to reality thirty years after. Men were going their appointed ways working out in circ.u.mstances the equation of their life's philosophy.

And now while the story waits, we may well look at three pictures. They do not speed the narrative; they hardly point morals to adorn this tale.

But they may show us how living a creed consistently colors one's life.