m- .CALEB CONOVER - i?%
KS &K. RAILROADER RATR
**} I A STORY love .politics. intrigue;of
, *ll 111,1 a RICH &.POWERFUL BOSS 7*®<H
fftpw. ' AIN b S young reformer. t igTt
il >"-] ULO.T i. teriiune.
FOREWORD.
The action of this lively, entertain
ing and accurately drawn story, turns
around the character of Caleb Con
over, a self-made railroad magnate
and contractor who has used his riches
and power to make himself the politi
cal boss of his party and state. And
he is the boss. No doubt of this. He
bosses about every person and every
thing he has to do with except Clive
Standish, a young lawyer who is an
idealist in politics, and who, like ideal
ists everywhere, is unbossable. Ihe
men are perfect antitheses in all their
aims and methods, but strikingly simi
lar in strength of character. They be
come opposing candidates for govern
or, and the episodes of the campaign
are full of spice and variety. Which
wins? Read the story. The element
■of romance is introduced through the
mutual love of Standish and Anice
Lanier, private secretary of Caleb
Conover. A murder in New ork
city which resulted in a criminal trial
that obtained world-wide notoriety is
used to advantage. T he anxiety of the
Conover family to get into fashionable
society, and their accompanying trou
bles and humiliations, constitute one of
the delightful features of the story.
But best of all is the tremendous per
sonality of Caleb Conover himself.
He may be all that is despicable in
his railroad, his contracting and his po
litical interests, and not admirable in
his indifferent treatment of his weak
little wife, but he has a dominating
mind, spends money with prodigal
recklessnes, is audacious, far-seeing,
and while responsive always to the in
tolerance that often comes with hard-
Won success, he •% quick to recognize
character and ability and reward them
—especially in his own service It is
a captivating tale, of whose creation
Mr. Terhune, th:- author, has every
reason to be proud.—l HE EDI
TOR.
CHAPTER I.
Caleb Conover Receives.
TjHIC poor man!" sighed Mrs.
Greer. "He must think be'a
jgSjg a cemetery!"
t I The long line of carriages
was passing solemnly through a
mighty marble arch, aglare with elec
tric light, leading into the "show
place" of Pompton Avenue.
Athwart the arch's pallid face, in
raised letters a full foot in length
were the words:
"CAUOP, CONOVKit. R.U., 1893."
In the ghastly, garish illumination,
above the slow-moving procession of
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sombre "vehicles, the areli and "its in
scription gave gruesome excuse for
Mrs. Greer's comment. She herself
thought, the phrase rather apt, and
stored it away for repetition.
Her husband, a downy little man,
curled up miserably in the other cor
ner of the brougham, read her
thought, from long experience, and
twisted forward into what he liked
to think was a commanding attitude.
"Look here!" he protested. "You've
got to stop that. It's bad enough to
have to come here at all, without
your spoiling everything with one of
those Bernard Shawisms of yours.
Why. if it ever got back to Conover's
ears —"
"He'd withdraw his support? And
then good-by to Congress for the un
fortunate Talbot Firth Greer?"
".lust that. He'll stand all sorts of
criticism about his start in life. In
fact, he revels in talking of his rise
to anyone who'll listen. But when it
comes to guying anything in his pres
ent exalted —"
"What does the 'R. It.' at the end
of his name over the gate stand for?
I've seen the inscription often enough,
but.—"
"'Railroader.' lie uses it as a
sort of title. Life for him is one
long railroad, and "
"And now we're to do him honor at
the terminus?"
"If you like to put it that way.
Perhaps 'junction' would hit it closer.
It was awfully good of you, Grace, to
come. I "
"Of course it was. If I didn't want
a try at Washington I'd never have
dared it. It will be in all the papers
to-morrow. He'll see to that. And
then 1 hate to think what everyone
will say. I suppose we're the fust
civilized people who ever passed
under that atrocious hanging mortuary
chapel, aren't we?"
"Hardly as bad as that. Bait's any
comfort to you, there are plenty more
jn the same box as ourselves, to
night."
"But surely everybody in Granite
can't want to run for Congress?"
"No. But enough people have axes
of their own to grind to make it worth
their while to visit the Conover whet
stone. When a man who can float
companies at a word, boom or smash
a dozen different stocks, swing the
Legislature, make himself heard from
here to Washington, and carries prac
tically every newspaper in the Moun
tain State in his vest pocket; when—"
"When such a man whistles, there
are some people who find it wise not
to be deaf. But what on earth does
he want us for?"
"The world-old ambition that had
its rise when Cain and Abel began
moving in separate sets. The long
ing to 'butt in,' as Caleb himself
would probably call it. He has every
thing money and political power can
give. And now lie wants the only
thing left —what he terms 'social rec
ognition.' "
"And we are to help—"
"No. We're to let him think we
help. All the king's horses and all
the king's men, assisted by a score of
Conover's own freight derricks,
couldn't hoist that cud into a decent
crowd. He's been at it ever since he
got his first million and married poor
little Letty Standish. She was the
fool of her family, and a broken fam
ily at that. But still it was a family.
Yet it didn't land Caleb anywhere.
Then, when that unlicked cub of a
son of his grew up, he made another
try. But you know how that turned
out. Now that his daughter's cap
tured a more or less authentic prince,
I suppose he thinks the time has
come. Hence to-night's—"
"What a blow to his hopes it must
have been to have the girl marry in
Paris instead of here at Granite! But
I suppose the honeymoon in America
and this evening's reception are the
next best thing. Are we never to get
there?"
"Soon enough, I'm afraid. Conover
boasts that he's laid out his grounds
so that the driveway is a measured
half-mile. We'll be there in another
minute or so."
Mrs. Greer laughed a little nerv
ously.
"It'll be something to remember
anyway," said she. "I suppose all
sorts of horrible people will be there.
I read a half-page account of it this
morning in the Star, and it said that
'while the proudest families of Gran
ite would delight to do Mr. Conover
honor, the humbler associates of po
litical and business life would also be
present.' Did you hear anything more
delicious? And in the Star, too!"
"His own paper. Why not? I sup
pose we're the 'proudest families';
and the 'humbler associates' are some
of the choice retinue of heelers who
do his dirty work. Lord! what a no
tice of it there'll be in to-morrow's
papers! Washington will have to be
very much worth while to make up
for this. If only I "
"Hush!" warned Mrs. Greer, as the
carriage lurched to a halt, in the
pack before a great porte-cochere.
"We're actually here at last. See!
There goes Clive Standish up the
steps witli the Polissen girls and old
Mr. Polissen. There are a few real
human beings here, after all. Why
do you suppose ?"
"H'm!' commented Greer, "Polis
sen's 'long' on Interstate Canal, the
route Conover's C. G. & X. Road is
threatening to put out of business.
But why young Standish—"
"Why not? Letty Conover's own
nephew. Though I did hear he and
the Conovers were scarcely on speak
ing terms. He —"
"I fancy that's because Standish's
'Mayflower' back is too stiff to bend
at the crack of Caleb's whip. He
could have made a mighty good thing
of his law business if Conover had
backed him. But I understand he re
fuses to ally himself with his great
relative-in-law, and prefers a good so
cial position and a small law prac
tice —"
"Rather than goto Congress?" fin
ished his wife with such sweet inno
cence that Greer could only glare at
her with flabby helplessness. Before
he could think of any apt retort, the
brougham was at the foot of the end
less marble steps, and its late occu
pants were passing up a wide strip of
velvet between rows of vividly liv
eried footmen.
s „
Caleb Conover, Railroader, was stand
ing just within the wide doorway.
Caleb Conover, Railroader, waa
standing just within the wide door
way of a drawing-room that seemed
to stretch away into Infinity. Behind
rose an equally Infinite vista of heads
and shoulders. But the loudly blended
murmur of many voices that is the
first thfng to strike the ear of arriving
guests at such functions was conspic
uously absent. The scarce-broken
hush that spread through the chain of
rooms seemed to bear out still further
Mrs. Greets mortuary simile.
But the constraint in no way ex
tended to the host himself. The
strong, alert faee, with its shrewd
light eyes and humorous mouth, was
wreathed in welcoming smiles that
seemed to ripple In a series of waves
from the close-cut reddish hair to tho
ponderous iron jaw. The thickset
form of the Railroader, massive of
shoulder and sturdily full of limb,
was ever plunging forward to grip
some favored newcomer by the hand,
or darting to one side or the other as
he whispered instructions to servant
or relative.
"1 congratulate you on your friend's
repose of manner!" whispered Mrs.
Greer, as she and her husband awaited
their turn. "lie has all the calm self
assurance of a jumping jack."
"Hut there are springs of chilled
steel in the jumping jack," whispered
Greer. "He's out of his element, and
he knows it. liut he isn't so badly
confused for all that. If you saw him
at a convention or a board meeting,
you wouldn't know him for the
same—"
"And there's his poor little wife,
looking as much like a rabbit as ever!
She's a cipher here; and even her
husband's figure in front of her doesn't
raise the cipher to the tenth power.
I suppose that is the daughter, to Mrs.
Conover's left? The slender girl with
the rust-colored hair and the brown
eyes? She's prettier and more of a
thoroughbred in looks than 1 should
have —"
"That's not his daughter. That's
Miss Lanier, Conover's secretary. His
daughter is the —"
"His secretary? Why, is she receiv
ing?"
"She is his secretary and everything
else. She came here three years ago
as Blanche's governess. To give tho
poor girl a sort of winding-up polish
before Caleb sent her to Europe. She
made all sorts of a hit with Conover.
Principally because she's the only
person on earth who isn't afraid of
him, so 1 hear. And now she is sec
retary, and major domo, and 'right
hand man,' and I don't know what
not else. Mrs. Conover's only a
'cipher,' as you say, and Miss Alice
Lanier—not Caleb is the 'figure' in
front of her. That's the new-made
princess, to the right. The tall ono
with the no-colored hair. I suppose
that's the Prince d'Antri beside her."
"He's too handsome to be a very
real prince. What a face for a sculp
tor or—"
"Or a barber. A beard like that —"
A gorgeously apparelled couple just
in front of the Greers, in the litie,
moved forward within the zone of
Conover's greeting. Caleb nodded pa
tronizingly to the man, and more civ
illy to the woman.
"Mr. Conover," the latter was mur
muring in an anguish of respectful
embarrassment, " 'tis a great honor
you do me and the man, askin' us here
to-night with all your stylish friends,
an' —"
"Oh, there's more than your hus
band and me, here, who'd get hungry
by habit if they heard a noon whistle
blow," laughed Conover, as with a
Jerk of his red head and a word of
pleasant welcome, he passed them on
down the reception line. Then tho
Railroader's light, deep-set eyes fell
on Greer, and he stepped forward,
"Good evening, Greer!" he cried,
both hands outstretched,
and there was a subcurrent of latent
power in his hearty voice. "Good
evening! Pleased to see you in my
house. Mrs. Greer, 1 presume? Most
kind of you to come, ma'am. Proud
to make your acquaintance. Letty!"
—summoning with a jerk of the head
an overdressed, frightened-looking lit
tle woman from the line behind him —
"Letty, this is my very good friend,
Mr. Talbot Firth Greer —Mrs. Conover
—Mr. and Mrs. Greer. Mr. Greer fs
the next Congressman from the Elev
enth District. (That's a little proph
ecy, Mr. Greer. You can gamble on
its coming true.) My duughter, Prin
cess d'Antri —Mr. and Mrs. Greer.
Prince Amadeo d'Antri. My secre
tary, Miss Alice Lanier —Mr. and
Mrs. —"
A new batch of guests swarmed
down the hall toward the host, aud
the ordeal was over. The Greers,
swept on in the rush, did not hear
Conover's next greeting. This was
rather a pity, since it differed mater
ially from that lavished upon them
selves.
Its recipient was a big young man,
with a shock of light hair and quiet,
dark eyes. He wore his clothes well,
and looked out of place in his vulgar,
garish surroundings. Caleb Conover,
Railroader, eyed the newcomer all
over with a cold, expressionless
glance. A glance that no seer on
earth could have read; the glanco
that had gained him more than ono
victory when wits and concealment
of purpose were rife. Then he held
out a grudging hand.
"W T ell, Mr. Clive Standish," he ob
served, "it seems the lion and the
lamb lie down together, after all —a
considerable distance this side of the
millennium. And the lamb Inside, at
that. To think of a clubman and a
cotillon leader, aud a flrst-famllies
scion and a Civic Leaguer and all that
gort of thing condescending to honor
my poor shanty—"
"My aunt, Mrs. Conover, wrote, ask
ing me especially to come, as a favor
to her," replied the younger man stiff
ly. I thought—"
"And you were O. K. in thinking it.
I know Letty wrote, because I dic
tated the letter. I wanted to count
you in with the rest to-night, and 1
had kind of a bashful fear that your
love for me, personally, might not bo
strong enough to fetch you. You've
got too much sense to think the invite
will score either way in our feelings
to each other, or that I'm going back
on what I said to you four years ago.
Now that you're here, chase in and
enjoy yourself. This place is like
heaven, to-night in one way. You'll
see a whole lot of people here you
never expected to, and you'll miss
more'n a few you thought would sure
belong. Good-by. Don't let me block
your job of heavenly recognition."
The wilful coarseness and brutality
of the man cai te as no surprise to
Standish. He had expected something
of the sort, and had braced himself for
it. To please his aunt, whom he sin
cerely pitied, he had entered the Con
over house to-night for the first time
since the Homeric quarrel, incident on
his refusal to avail himself of Caleb's
prestige in his law work, and, inci
dentally to enroll himself as one of
the Railroader's numberless political
vassals. That the roughness to which
Conover had subjected him was no
more a part of the Railroader's real
nature than had been the nervous ef
fusiveness of his greeting to the
Greers, Clive well knew. It had been
Intended to cover any embarrassing
memories of a former and somewhat
less strained acquaintanceship; and
as such it like most of Conover's
moves had served its turn.
So, resisting his first Impulse to de
part as he had come, Standish moved
on. The formal receiving phalanx was
crumpling up. II:' paused for a mo
ment's talk with little Mrs. Conover,
exchanged a civil word or two with
his cousin Blanche and her prince, and
then came to where Anice Lanier was
trying to make conversation for sev
eral awed-looking, bediamonded per
sons who were evidently horribly ill
at ease in their surroundings.
At sight of the girl, the formal lines
about Clive's mouth were broken by
a smile of very genuine pleasure. A
smile that gave a younger aspect to
his grave face, and found ready an
swer in the brown eyes that met his.
"Haven't you toiled at a forlorn
hope long enough?" he asked, as the
awed beings drifted away into the un
comfortable crowd, carrying their
burden of jewels with them.
"A forlorn hope?" she queried, puz
zled.
"You actually seemed to be trying
to galvanize at least a segment of this
portentous gathering into a semblance
of life. Don't do it. In the first
place you can't. Saloonkeepers and
Pompton Avenue people won't blend.
In the second place, it isn't expected
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of you. ' The fape'rs to-morrow win
record the right names just as jeal
ously as if everyone had had a good
time. Suppose you concentrate all
your efforts on me. Come! It will be
a real work of charity. For Mr. Con
over has just shown me how thorough
ly I'm the prodigal. And he didn't
even hint at the whereabouts of a
fatted calf. I'loaso he merciful and
make me have a good time. It's
months since I've seen you to talk
to."
"Then why don't you come here
oftener?" she asked as they made
their way through the press, and
found an unoccupied alcove between
two of the great rooms. "Im sure
Mrs. Conover —"
"My poor aunt? She'd be fright
ened to death that Conover and I
would quarrel. No, no! To-night Is
an exception. The iirst and the last.
I persuaded myself I came because
of Aunt Letty's note. But I really
came for a chat with you."
She looked at him, doubting how to
accept this bald compliment. But his
face was boyish in its sincerity.
"You and I used to be such good
friends," he went on,"and now we
never see any more of each other.
Why don't we?"
"I think you know as well as I
You no longer come here —you have
not come, I think, since a year before
1 arrived. And I go almost nowhere
since—"
"Since you gave up all your old
world and the people who cared for
you and became a drudge in the Con
over household? If you were to be
found anywhere else you would see
so much of me that I'd bore you to ex
tinction. But it would be even un
pleasanter for you than for me if 1
were to call on you here. T miss our
old-time talks more than I can say."
"I miss them too. Do you remem
ber how we used to argue over poli
tics, and how you always ended by
telling me that there were two things
no woman could understand, and that
politics was one and finance the
other?"
"And you would always make the
same retort: That woman's combined
ignorance of politics and finance were
pure knowledge as compared with the
men's ignorance of women. It wasn't
especially logical repartee, but it al
ways served to shut me up.'
"I wish we had time for another po
litical spat. Some day we must. You
see, I've learned such a lot about poli
tics- and finance, too —practical poli
' tics and finance since I came here.*'
"Decidedly 'practical,' I fancy, if
Mr. Conover was your teacher. He
doesn't go in much for idealism."
(To Be Continued.)
What's in a Name.
Boarding House, A. Hotsell .. $G up
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