WVGE SIX
THE CITIZEN, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1912.
IIS RISE
TO
By Henry Russell Miller,
Author of
"The Alan Higher Up"
Copyright, 1911, by (he Bobbs-Mcrrlll
Company
PROLOGUE.
Reader, hero is a live, gripping,
absorbing romance of politics
not the politics of a decade ago,
but the politics of today. A
young American of good fighting
blood and hard, fixed ideals sets
out to smash the political ma
chine of his state without com
promise with evil. The great mo
ment of his Ufa comes when he
must sacrifice his clean hands or
ruin the father of the girl he
loves. The creative genius and
large power of the author arc
even more notable than in ' The
Man Higher Up," Mr. Miller's
preceding novel,
CHAPTER I.
Mists of the Morning.
T was twlllpht still In the val
ley, but over the bills to tho
Mist the sky was whitening.
A young man sitting by bis
1
window turned to sco tbo birth of nn
othcr day. Throughout the night he
had been staring at a vision. But
weariness had set no mark upon him.
Ills vision he did not understand, save
that for him, it spelled opportunity a
chance to put Into a drifting, rather
ordinary existence, purposeful action,
to stretch his muscles, rack his brain
and tear his soul lu tho struggle that
is tho life of men.
lie caught up a rough towel and,
stealing quietly out of the house, walk
ed rapidly down the street "When the
straggling town lay behind him he
broke into a slow trot. At a place
where many feet had worn a path
across a clover ineitdow he turned
from the road. Tho path ended at a
clump of bushes on the rior bank.
Hastily undressing, ho plunged Into
the green depths, from which Juno
had not quite taken the chill of spring.
Ills lithe, strong body responded to
the shock. Tho nerves, harried by the
long night watch, relared. He shout
ed lustily. For a few minutes he
swam vigorously. Then, reaching the
shore, he took the towel and rubbed
himself Into a glow. lie tingled with
a sense of well being.
When he was dressed again, refresh
ed and eager for his day, he took the
path back to the highway. The sun
was climbing over tho hills. lie stop
ped and watched it while It swung
clear In the sky. gleaming a fiery red
through the mists of the valley. Tho
glory of tho morning was complete.
lie was about to resume his tramp
homeward when he beheld a strange
procession advancing along tho road, a
young woman leading n limping horse.
As she came nearer he chuckled aloud.
The handsome pigskin saddle, tho Ivory
handled crop, the modish riding suit
and boots were not the equipment with
which young ladies of New Chelsea
were wont to ride.
Sho heard him and looked up coldly.
The chuckle died Instantly.
"Good morning," ho said. "What's
the matter with your horse? Can I
help you?"
She stopped. "lie has picked up a
stone," she answered, "and I can't get
it out. If you will bo so good"
He vaulted lightly over ttie fence
that bounded the meadow and removed
the offending stone.
"Thank you," the young woman said.
"You're quito welcome," he answer
ed. "I'm always glad to help beauty
In distress. He is a beautiful animal,
isn't he?" he added hastily.
"Are you chadiug me?" sho nsked
coldly.
He repressed a smile. "By no means.
Better not ride him for a little bit, un
til we seo how ho walks. You ride
early," he ventured.
"No earlier than you swim," she re
plied briefly, glancing at his wet hair
tud towel, ne at once became uncom
fortably conscious of his rather un
kempt appearance.
"Are you staying In New Chelsea?"
"Yes."
"Shall you stay long?"
"Are you in the habit of cross ex
amining straugers on tho road?" she
inquired frigidly.
ne reddened. "I beg your pardon,"
bo said aud slackened his pace to let
her draw ahead.
"I think I'll rido now," she said. "If
you will help me up. Crusader has
stopped Urn plug."
ne held out his hand, she placed n
foot in it and was lifted to tho sad
dle. Sho murmured her thanks. Hut,
although she gathered In tho reins, she
did not start away. Por a moment sho
sat looking at the hills, apparently ob
llvlous of tho young man's presence
Ho wondered who sho was nnd von
tured again. "Why do you call bin
Crusader?"
She looked down at him. "Anothei
question? You are incorrigible."
"I beg your pardon," ho said agalr
BtlUly and marched up the road.
"I havo named him that," she called
after him, "because he has plenty of
Are and spirit, but nt critical times
seems to lack common sense." She
laughed, a free, musical laugh that
somehow recalled the blood to his
checks. He made no reply.
She watched him as ho swung along,
frankly admiring tho tall, cleanly built
flguro whose lines the loose coat he
wore did not conceal. She remembered
the end of the big game eight years be
fore, when a laughing, mud stained
young athlete tore himself away from
his idolatrous companions to lay his
triumph nt the feet of the day's sweet
heart She remembered also, with a
smile, the stabbing childish Jealousy
with which a freckle faced, short
Bkirted girl had witnessed his devotion.
"And you're still here, buried alive
in this out of the way corner of the
world," she said softly. "Oh, John
Dunmeado! John Dunmeade!"
Suddenly she touched her horse with
the crop. Ho bounded forward and
clattered nlong until the young man
was overtaken. She pulled Crusader
down to a walk, at which the young
man looked up astonished. Curious as
to her Identity, but fearing another re
proof, he cautiously refrained from
further speech.
They went along in silence until they
readied a point where tho undulating
road rose to command a view of the
valley to tho south and the town to
the north. She reined in her horse.
"What a pity one can't find words
for such a morning! And the wonder
of it is that it has recurred, we don't
know how mnny millions of times, al
ways glorious."
"It makes one feel a bit reverent"
"It makes one feel as helpless as"
She paused for lack of a comparison.
"As helpless as some chick will soon
feel, unless the farmer's dog scares off
that hawk," he completed the sentence
for her, pointing. Over a barnyard In
the valley tho big bird was soaring
In narrowing, lowering circles. From
beneath came faintly the cries of
frightened fowls. Suddenly the hawk
swooped low to the earth. Scarcely
pausing, it soared aloft once more,
leaving panic in the barnyard and one
chick the less.
The young woman laughed. "There's
an illustration of one fundamental
lnw."
"The supremacy of the strong? That's
an old theory, I know. A very pretty
one from the point of view of tho
hawk. Rut how about the chick?"
"Oh, if one Is born a chick" She
concluded the sentence with a shrug
Suddenly, Vith a Laugh, She Was Gons
Amid a Clatter of Hoofs,
of her shoulders. "Strength Is Its own
law. Hasn't tho world always been
conquered nnd ruled by Its strong?"
"I'm afraid that Is true," ho said so
berly. "Afraid! I should think you would
be glad, since I havo It from (he New
Chelsea Globe you aro a strong man."
Ho looked his astonishment. "You
know who I am!"
"Of course! Did you think, Mr.
Dunmeade," sho laughed "did you
think your charms outweighed the
convention!!? I am not n barbarian In
the hnblt of philosophizing with strange
young men on the road before 7 o'clock
lu tho morning."
"What did you road In tho Globe?"
"Tho vanity of men! I read, 'Mr. '
Dunmeade will undoubtedly make a
strong candidate. The entlro county i
wants him. It will have him.' It reads
like a patent medicine advertisement. I
doesn't it? How docs it feel to be i
wanted by an entire county, Mr. Dun.
meode?"
"It is," ho confessed, "rather pleas
antif true. Who are you?"
And suddenly, with a laugh, she was
gone, amid a clatter of hoofs.
Alone lie addressed the morning.
"She said I am strong. I wonder, am
I strong-strong enough?" And. search
ing his soul for the answer, ho heard
no negative.
This chronicle, we neglected to state,
begins nt the beginning of the end of
an epoch. The epoch has been vari
ously styled a golden age. a period of
prosperity, an era of expansion, it was
all of that to a few. Por others,
though they did not see it, it was a
recession, a truce In the struggle, old
as life Itself, between the many and
the strong.
William Murehell was a distinguish
ed member of a class whose climbing
proclivities are not subdued by the in
cident of a lowly start. He was born
In the obfvMire hill town of New Chel
sea soon after Andrew Jackson and
his contemporaries promulgated and il
lustrated the Immortal doctrine. "To
the victor belong tho spoils." In the
fashion made popular by Abraham Lin
coln and other great men he secured
an education anil on the day he attain
ed his majority was admitted to tho
practice of law In Kenton county.
About the same time he entered the
broader profession of politics, being
then n lukewarm Whig.
His military services aro perhaps
best dismissed with the mention of a
certain gold medal struck in his honor,
by special net of congress, for gallant
conduct on the field of battle. The In
vidious have made much of this deco
ration. However, It probably required
a finer courage to resign from tho colo
nelcy of his home guard regiment on
the eve of Gettysburg this Indeed was
the fact to accept the less exposed of
fice of aid to the governor at the capi
tal than to face the hall of rebel bul
lets. There are many ways of express
ing one's patriotism. Later he served
his country as prothonotary for Hcnton
county. Afterward he passed through
many gradations of political prefer
ment, as representative In the general
assembly of his state, as state sena
tor, as state treasurer and finally us
I'nlted States senator, which exalted
olllce he held until but we anticipate
our history. He became in addition
leader of his party organization, an
euphemism employed by those who ob
jected to the term "boss."
William MureheH's creed was that
of a respectable but practical man.
ne was a teetotaler and a Presbyte
rian elder and believed In the doc
trine of foreordlnatlon nnd In a literal
scriptural hell for those not numbered
among the elect. He believed devout
ly In the a'-owed and tacit principles
of his party, although he was not big
oted and would on occasion take a se
cret hand in the affairs of the opposi
tion. He had more than once read
out of the party foolhardy young men
who ventured to oppose his leadership.
He lived during at least two months
of every year In the town of his birth,
either in the square, white frame
house on Maple street or at the farm,
three miles west, which ho let "on
shares." New Chelsea was a quaint,
old fashioned town lying nt the head
of the Weehantioek valley, quite con
tent with Its population of 5.000 nnd
with the honor of being the county
seat, which Murchell's Influence had
prevented from being moved to Pluiu
vllle, that thriving little factory city
fifteen miles away.
Down Main street ono flno June aft
ernoon ho was walking with that air
of abstraction which sits so well on
the great.
"He has big possibilities." Uncon
sciously the senator spoke aloud.
His companion seemed to under
stand the reference. "He's all right,"
he nnswered. State Senator Jim
Sheehan was n big, fat gentleman with
furtive, twinkling eyes, a modicum of
coarse good looks nnd a rolling, cock
sure gait bred of no misfortune. Ho
wns a son of power. Fifteen years be
fore lie had gone to I'liimvllle to work
In the mills, an uncouth, unlettered
Irlshmau, who could tell a good story,
hold unlimited quantities of liquor and
wns not unwilling to work when muti
ey could not be had otherwise.
But not long for him had been the
grime and roar and muscle racking of
the mills. Money could bo had more
easily. I'liimvllle wns booming. There
were streets to bo graded and paved,
public buildings to be constructed. Jim
went Into politics and because he was
a good "vote getter" and had a cer
tain rough talent for the game acquir
ed power. Ho opened a saloon and ac
quired more power. He became u con
tractor nnd secured many contracts.
One day the dry nwoke to the fact
that Jim Sheehan owned its govern
ment. The citizens cried out in pro
testand, with tho habit of American
iltlCH, little and big, submitted. He
became, by virtue of his alliance with
Murehell, state senator from Benton
county nnd lender we cling to the
euphemism of the county organiza
tion. "He's all right," ho repeated and
chuckled.
"Kb?" said Murehell. "Who's all
right?"
"Why, Johnny Dunmeade, of course!
Didn't tell you how I happened to bu
poln' to seo him 'stead of tho other way
round. It's n horso on me, nil right."
Ho threw back his head, and tho
chucklo becamo a loud cuffaw "Sent
word for him to come to my office last
Tuesday nt 2 o'clock nhnrp. Guess ho
knew whnt for. Ho enme, nil right 1 1
thought lt'd do him good to cool his
heels awhllo keep him from gettln'
too chesty. Guess ho wnlted nbout
half an hour nnd thon got up. 'Pre
sent my compliments to Senator Shee
han,' he says to tho boy, 'and tell him
to go to the devil nnd learn how to
keep his appointments,' and left. 'Long
about 3 o'clock I strolled out and gets
his message." Sheehan paused long
enough to slap his thigh resoundingly.
"He's nil right Ain't nny ono told mo
to go to the devil for some time. He'll
be worth r00 extra majority to the
whole ticket"
"If he'll tnko tho nomination."
"Take It? Of course he'll take it
Ain't there $l,r.)0 n year In It for him?
And mebby when his term's ended he
might go to the legislature aa repre
sentative." "Or state senator?"
Sheehan grinned. "Say, do I look
ilke I wns on my wny to tho bono
yard?" lie became serious. "What's tho
matter with the people, anyhow? Rais
in' Cain all over tho state Just bo
ra use," he lidded coinplainlngly, "one
'.rust company went up nnd the cnshler
shot Itself. Ain't business good?
Ain't the organization given them good
government?" lie demanded.
"It lias." Seuntor Murehell spoke
with conviction.
"What do they want, then?"
"I dnu'i L-uuw. They don't know.
And as long as they don't know," Mur
chell said dryly, "you and I, Jim.
needn't be afraid."
They had reached and turned the
corner of the street that bounds the
courthouse square on tho north. They
stopped at a frame, two room shack
by tho door of which hung n battered
tin sign, "John Dunmeade, Attorney nt
Lnw." Sheehan led the way Inside.
Through the door of tho Inner room
came the mufiled drone of voices. The
two men seated themselves In the
anteroom nnd wnlted. Ten minutes
passed. Then tho door opened nnd
John Dunmeade emerged, ushering out
a big. bearded fanner. When the cli
ent hud loft the young lawyer turned
to his callers and shook hands, warmly
with Murehell and hastily with Shee
han. "Will you step Inside, gentlemen?"
They took seats around the old.
time stained mahogany table.
"Well?" Duumeade's look addressed
the remark to Senator Murehell.
The senntor smiled slightly. "I'm
hero only as an honorary vice presi
dent. Ask Sheehan. He likes to talk."
"Sure," Sheehan grinned. "I ain't
ono of them that believes the feller
that don't talk Is deep and wise, no
gener'ly ain't talkln' because ho can't
think of nothln to say." He paused
and continued, "Well, Mr. District At
torney" "Isn't that a little premature?" John
interrupted.
For answer the Honorable Jim drew
forth from another pocket a folded
newspaper, which he spread out on hla
knees. Solemnly ho began to read:
"We should not dignify the present
rather unsettled political conditions
with the name crisis. But It Is un
questionably u time when our party
must inspect its path carefully. At
such a time It behooves It to choose
as candidates only men whoso fear
lessness and honesty aro not open to
question. Benton county has this fall
to fill the Important olilco of district
attorney. Of all those meutloned for
this post we know of none who so
well fills the bill na John Dunmeade,
the popular and brilliant young lawyer
of New Chelsea. Ills name" Sheehan's
voice rose to a triumphant climax "his
name has brought forth enthusiasm
wherever mentioned. The entire coun
ty wants him. It will havo him." Ho
looked up. "What do you think of
that, eh?"
"Which of you," John asked, "in
spired that editorial?"
"I did," answered Sheehan. "1
didn't write It. though," he confessed.
"Don't you think," John demanded,
a little sharply, "you might have asked
my consent before using my name as a
candidate? Do I understand you've
come here to to give me your consent
to run?"
"We came to say we'd support you."
"Then let nie stato the case to you
as It Is. The stato Is pretty much
worked up over that trust company
affair back east. I'm not sure It
oughtn't to be worked up, either. The
farmers in this county and a good
many people in Pluraville aren't very
friendly to you personally at best, in
short," he laughed, "you need some
new timber to patch up the old ship of
state. And you think I'll do."
Sheehan turned to Senator Murehell
"Senator, let's mo and you go right out
ami resign and let Johnny here run
things. Don't yon want tho Job?" he
demanded of John.
"I don't know yet. I'm thinking it
over. But If I take it It will be on
condition"
"On condition!"
"that there aro no conditions. I'd
want to run my campaign und tho of
tlco according to my own notions. I'd
run It straight"
"Sure!" agreed Sheehan.
"I really meau It. you know," John
Insisted. "I might oven havo to get
after you, Slieehan."
This to Sheehan fs humorous mat
ter. "That's all right," ho agreed
again, griunlng, "if you can catch me.
You think it over, Johnny, nnd let mo
kuow tomorrow."
Ho rose. "Well, I guess I must lie
goln. Aro you comln' along, sena
tor?"
"Not JuBt now, Shcohau," Senator
Murehell nnswered.
"I'll be sayln good day, then."
Sheehan shook hands with Senator
Murehell and John and left
(Continued In Next Frlday'B issue.)
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