CALEB CONOVER
arrrrj— RAILROADER
•••CoMovctxr"' ——
STORY ©/■ LOVE,POLITICS,INTRIGUE,
op A RICH &« POWERFUL BOSS
* AND AN INTREPID YOUNG
REFORMER
2?fcd&\w.J BY ALBERT PAYSON TERHUNE
vV-" 1907 BV AL.BERT PAVSON TERHUN&
"Well," vouchsafed Caleb, grudging
ly, "that's an answer anyhow, and It
comes nearer being sense than any
thing you've said so far. But you're
wrong for all that. You talk about
honesty. What's honesty? The pious
Pilgrim Fathers came here and swin
dled old Lo, the poor Indian, out of
his country In a blamed sight more
raw fashion than I've ever bamboozled
the people of the Mountain State.
And the Mountain Staters were will
ing while the Indian wasn't. Yet the
old settlers are called 'nation builders'
and 'martyrs,' and a lot of other hot
air titles, and they get statues put up
to their memories. How about the
Uncle Sam's buying a whole nation of
Filipinos and coolly telling 'em: 'l'm
bossing your islands now. Listen to
me while I soften your rebellious
hearts with the blessed gospel of the
gatling gun.' Yet Uncle Sam's all
right. So's John Bull, who done the
same trick, only worse, in India and
Egypt. No one's going to call Ameri
ca or England or the Pilgrim Fathers
dishonest and crooks, is there? Then
why do you ca'.l Caleb Conover dis
honest for doing the same thing, only
a lot more squarely and mercifully?
The crook of to-day is the hero of to
morrow. And I'm no crook at that.
Why, son, a hundred years from now
there's liable to be a statue stuck up
somewhere of 'Caleb Conover, Rail
roader, Champion of the People.'
Honesty, eh? What you call 'hon
esty' Is just a sort of weak-kneed vir
tue meaning lack of chance to be
something else. 'llonester than mo'
means 'less chance than me.' The
honestest community on earth, accord
ing to you reformers' way of think
ing. is In the State Penitentiary. For
not a crime of any sort's committed
there from one's year's end to the
other."
Conover chuckled softly to himself,
then continued:
"And there's something else about
me that ought to make 'em sculp a
halo onto that same statue. What I've
done to build up my pile I've done
open and with all the cards on the*
table. I have called a spade a spado,
and I haven't referred to it, vague- 1
like, as an 'industr'l.' I haven't took
the Lord in as a silent partner on my
deals. What I've took I've took, and
I've said, 'Whatcher going to do about
It?' I've won out by strength, and I
ain't ashamed of my way of playing
the game. I haven't talked through
my nose about being one of the noblo
class picked out by Providence to
watch over the wealth that poor
folks'd have had the good of if I hadn't
grabbed it from 'em. And I haven't
tried to square myself On High by en
dowing colleges and heathens and
libraries and churches. I guess a sin
ner's hush-money don't make so much
of a hit with the Almighty as these
philanthropist geezers seem to think
It will. What I've given I've given on
the quiet an where it'd keep folks
from the poorliouse. When it comes
to the final show-down on Judgment
Day, I've a sneaking notion the out
and-out pirate—me, if you like —will
win out by about seven lengths over
the holy hypocrite. That's another
reason why I tell you you're wrong
when you say I ain't honest. I don't
hope to convince you by any of the
words I've been wasting. If you were
the sort of man reason could reach
you wouldn't be a reformer. l'\e
squandered enough time on you for
one evening. Save all the pat replies
that I can see you're bursting with,
and spring 'em at your next meeting.
I've no time to listen to 'em now.
Good night."
Unceremoniously as he had entered
the room h quitted it, leaving Stan
dish togo as he would.
"I talked more'n I have since that
fool speech of mine at the reception,"
muttered the Railroader as he clat
tered down the broad staircase. "But
I steeled him off from the chance to
say what ho really wanted to, and 1
dodged nny scene that would be of use
to him In his campaign. Too bad he's
a Reformer! He's got red blood in
him, the young Idiot. Yes, and he's
not such an idiot either If It comes to
that."
Olive Standish, descending the
Btalrs a moment later, puzzled, disap
pointed, vaguely aware that he had
feomeliow been tricked, heard the
shout of a groom and the thundering
bert of Dunderberg's flying hoofs
along the gravel of the drive.
"If he was as much master of the
situation, and as content with himself
as he tried to make me think," re
flected Clive as he passed out Into the
darkness, "he'd never ride like that."
Wearied, Standish returned late to
his own rooms. His man said, as he
helped the candidate ofT with his light
covert coat:
, "A messenger boy brought a letter
1 for you, sir, about an hour ago. He
■aid there was no answer. I left it on
your desk."
Clive picked up the typewritten en
velope listlessly and tore it open. It
contained a note, also typewritten,
and a thicker enclosure. He read:
"Anonymous letters carry a stigma.
Perhaps that is is why you did not
profit by my last one. I have good
reasons for not signing my name.
And you have good reason to know
bv now that what I write Is the truth.
Be wiser this time. 1 enclose a list
of the County Chairmen who have sold
out to Conover, the name of the Chair
man "to be chosen for next week's
State Convention, and a rough draft of
the plan to be used for your defeat.
Next to each detail you will find my
suggestion for blocking it. You owe
it to yourself and to the people to
take advantage of what I send you."
"He's right, whoever he Is!" ex
claimed Clive, half-aloud. "It's the
only way I can fight Conover on equal
terms. There's no sense in my
standing on a foolißh scruple when so
much hangs on the result of the Con
vention."
He snatched up the enclosure which
had slipped to the floor. Irresolute he
held it for almost a minute, his Arm
lips twitching, his eyes cloudy with
perplexity. Then, with a sigh of self
contempt he slipped note and enclo
sure in a long envelope, addressed it
and rang for his man.
"See that this is delivered to
night," he ordered.
The valet, as he left the room,
glanced surreptiously at the envel
ope's address. To his infinite be
wilderment he saw the superscription:
"Caleb Conover, Esq., 107 Pompton
Avenue. Personal."
There was a terrible half hour in
the Mausoleum that night.
CHAPTER XIV.
A Convention and a Revelation.
TIHE day of the State Conven
tion! The Convention Hall
gjjfisfig at Granite was a big-barn
i like building, frequently
used for church and school entertain
ments, and occasionally giving tem
porary home to some struggling the
atrical company. For the holding of
the convention which was to name
the Governor of the Mountain State a
feeble attempt at decorating the vast
Interior had been made by Conover's
State chairman.
There was the usual noise and
tramping of feet and clamoring of
brass bands, the customary rabble of
uniformed campaign clubs with their
gaudy banners and pompous drum
majors about The hall and in it, for
an hour before the time that had been
set for the calling of the convention.
Here, there and everywhere circu
lated busy lieutenants of Boss Con
over. Their master, with a little co
terie of chosen lieutenants moved
early into his headquarters in one of
the rooms at the rear of the stage,
where he sat like some wise old spider
in the hea r t of his web, sending out
warn'-.ftH, advice and admonitions to
his under-strappers.
Conover felt calmly confident of the
result. Even had Standish been the
choice of a majority of the people in
all eight counties of the State, It
would have availed him little, for
through the routine tricks whereof the
Railroader was past master, his young
opponent was at the last able to con
trol the votes of but two counties
Matawan and Willr.
Standish's contesting delegates from
the other six counties sat sullen and
grim In the gallery. Fraudulent Con
over delegates, who had usurped the
former's places by the various ruses
so successfully put into action at the
caucuses, held the credentials and
occupied the seats belonging by rights
to the Leaguers on the floor of the
Convention Hall. There the Machine
delegates smilingly sat awaiting the
moment when they should name their
Boss as candidate for Governor.
From the seats of the usurpers there
went up a merry howl of derision as
Standish's two little blocks of dele
gates from Matawan and Wills
marched In and took their places well
down In front, where they "ormed a
pitifully small oasis among the Con
over delegates from Bowdcn, Carney,
Haldane, Jericho, Sparta and Pomp
ton counties.
There was no cheering by the Stan
dish delegates on the floor of the con
vention. Nine out of ten knew that it
was practically a hopeless fight into
which they were about to plunge.
Karl Ansel, with an inscrutable
grin on his long, leathery face, might
have sat for a picture of a typical
poker player, as he slipped into his
place at the head of the Wills County
delegation.
Standish was nowhere in sight. Fol
lowing the ordinary laws of campaign
etiquette, he did not show himself be
fore the delegates in advance of the
nomination; but, like Conover, sat in
temporary headquarters behind the
stage. About him were a little knot
of Civic Leaguers. One and all they
were Job's comforters, for they knew
It would take a miracle now to snatch
the nomination from the Railroader's
grip.
Promptly at twelve o'clock Slievlin,
In his newly acquired capacity of
State Chairman, called the convention
to order. He had judiciously dis
tributed bunches of his best trained
shouters where they would do the
most good. They cheered when ho
named the secretaries and assistant
secretaries who would act until the
oermanent organization had been ef
fected. And Detween times tney
cheered just for the joy of cheering.
Both sides knew that the first and
last test of strength would come upon
the selection of Committee on Creden
tials, since It was to this committee
that the contests of the six larger
counties for the right to sit In the
convention would go for settlement
Previous conventions had always de
cided that delegates whose seats were
contested should not be allowed to sit
as members of the Committee on Con
tested Seats. Clive Standlsh lrno
cently supposed this rule would be ad
hered to by this convention. He was
wrong. Conover had no Quixotic no
tion of giving his rival any such ad
vantage. The night before he had de
creed that the chairman should rule
that this Committee on Contests
should consist of three members from
each county, and that these members
should be chosen by the sitting dele
gates from each county. This meant
that the committee would stand
eighteen delegates for Conover and six
for Standlsh. And so it was. Chair
man Bourke ruled exactly as Conover
had dictated.
When the convention understood
the purport of it all the maddest up
roar broke out. All semblance of or
der was lost. A dozen fist fight*
started simultaneously. A 'longshore
man —Conover district captain from
one o': the "railroad" wards of Gran
ite —wittily spat in the face of a vo
ciferating little farmer from Wills
County, and then stepped back with
a bellow of laughter at his own powers
of repartee. But others understood
the gentle art of "retort courteous"
almost as well as he. Losing for once
his inherited New Kngland calm, Karl
Ansel drove his big gnarled fist flush
into the grinning face of the dock-rat,
and sent him whirling backward amid
a splintering of broken seats.
Ansel, smarting and past all con
trol, ploughed his way down the main
aisle, and halting below the stage,
shook his clenched fist at Caleb Con
over's crayon likeness.
"I've seen forty pictures of Juads Is
cariot in my time," he thundered,
apostrophizing the portrait in a nasal
voice that rose high above the clamor,
"aad no two of them looked alike.
But by the Eternal, they all were the
living image of YOU!"
Then he went down under an ava
lanche of Conover rowdies, giving and
taking blows as he was borne head
long to the floor. At the cost of a
brief interim of fruitless rioting, the
Machine at last hid its way. Stan
dish had but six members on the com
mittee.
The contest was over.
The Standlsh delegates offered but
a perfunctory opposition to the work
jf (.noosing the Committees on Organ
ization and Platform. This much hav
ing been done, the convention took
the usual recess, leaving the commit
tees togo into session in separate
rooms back of the stage.
The delegates Hied out, the men
from Wills and Matawan angry and
silent in their shamed defeat, those
from the six victorious counties crow
ing exuberant glee at their easy trl
unjph.
The adjournment announced, Clive
slipped out of the Convention Hall by
a rear entrance, and went across to
his private office at the League rooms.
He wanted to bo alone away from
even the staunchest friends—in this
black hour. Against all counsel and
experience, against hope itself, he had
hoped to the last. Ilis bulldog pluck,
his faith in his mission, had upheld
him above other, colder, saner reason.
Even the repeated warnings of Ansel
had left him unconvinced. Up to the
very moment Conover's final success
ful move was made Standlsh had
hoped. And now hope was dead.
He was beaten. Hopelessly, utter
ly, starkly beaten. From the outset
Conover had played with him and his
plans as a giant might play with a
child. It had been no question of
open battle, with the weaker antag
onist battered to earth by the greater,
the whole campaign had been a futile
struggle of an enmeshed captive to
break through a web too mighty for
his puny efforts, while his conqueror
had sat calmly by, awaiting a victory
that was sure as the rise of the sun.
Standlsh knew that in a few min
utes he would be able to pull himself
together and face the world as a man
should. In the interim, with the hurt
animal's instinct, he wanted to be
alone.
Save for a clerk In the antecham
ber, tho League's rooms were de
serted. Everyone was at the conven
tion. The clerk rose at C)' '« en
trance and would have spoken, the
defeated candidate passed unheeding
into his own ofllce, closing the door be
hind him.
Then, stopping short, his back to
the closed door, he stared, unbelieving,
at someone who rose at his entrance
and hurried forward, hands out
stretched, to greet him.
"I knew you would come here!" said
Anlce Lanier. "I felt you would, so I
hurried over as soon as they ad
journed. Aren't you glad to see meT"
He still stared, speechless, dumb
founded. She had caught hlB unrespon
sive hands, and was looking up Into
his tired hopeless eyes with a wealth
of pity and sympathy that broke
through the mask of blank misery on
his face and softened the hard lines of
mouth and jaw into a shadow of a
smile.
"It was good of you to come," he
said at last. "I thought I couldn't
bear to see anyone Just now. But —
It's so different with you, I—"
He ceased speaking. His overstrung
nerves were battling against a childish
longing to bury his hot face In those
cool little white hands whose lightest
touch a/- thrilled him and to tell thia
untie finitely tender glr] about
his sorrows, nis DroKew nopes, nis
crushed self-esteem. In spirit he
could feel her arms about his aching
head, drawing it to her breast; could
hear her whispered words of soothing
and encouragement.
Then, on the moment, the babyish
Impulse passed and he was himself
again, self-controlled, outwardly stol
id, realizing as never before that the
price of strength is loneliness.
"I am beaten," he went on, "but I
think we made as good a fight as we
could. Perhaps another time —"
She withdrew her hands from his.
Into her big eyes had crept something
almost akin to scorn.
"You are giving up?" she asked in
credulously. "You will make no fur
ther effort to—"
"What more is to be done? The
Committee on Credentials —"
"I know. I was there. It's all been
a wretched mistake from the very be
ginning. Oh, why were you so foolish
about those letters?"
"Letters? What letters?"
"The letters sent you with news of
Mr. Conover's plans for —"
"Those anonymous letters I got?
What do you know —"
"I wrote them," said Anice Lanier.
CHAPTER XV.
Anice Intervenes.
HOU wrote them? You wrote
them?" muttered Standlsh,
over and over, stupid, dazed,
refusing to believe, or un
derstand.
"Yes," she said, "I wrote them. And
I wrote one to Mr. Ansel. He was
wiser than you. He tried to profit
by what I —"
"And I —l thought it might be Ger
ald Conover."
"Gerald? "He never knew any of
the more secret detai's of the cam
paign. His father couldn't trust him."
"And he did trust you."
112 >
"And he did trust you."
Clive had not meant to say, it. He
was sorry before the words had passed
his lips. Yet it was the first lucid
thought that came to him as his
mind cleared from the first shock of
Anice's revelation. Ho knew how
fully Conover believed in this pretty
secretary of his; how wholly the Rail
roader had, in her case, departed from
his life rule of universal susjafion.
That she should thus, coldbloodedly,
calculatingly, lia"j betrayed the trust
of even such t employer as Caleb
was monstrous He could not recon
cile It with ar ,hing in his own long
of her. The revelation
turned him sick.
"You despise me. don't you?" she
asked. There was no shame, no fal
tering in her clear young voice.
"I have no right to—to judge any
one," he stammered. "I —"
"You despise me." And now It was
a statement, not a query.
"No," he said, slowly, trying to
gauge his own tangled emotions, ' I
don't. I don't know why I don't, but
I don't. I should think anyone else
that did such a thing was lower than
the beasts. But you—why. you are
(Continued On la«t page.)
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