THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
$>c 
 
 Y ^^^ 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
» m i««»» m t« n 4« nm «i 
 
 OPIE READ'S 
 SELECT WORKS 
 
 Old Ebenezer 
 
 The Jucklins 
 
 My Young Master 
 
 A Kentucky Colonel 
 
 On the Suwanee River 
 
 A Tennessee Judge 
 
 Works of Strange Power and Fascination 
 
 Uniformly bound in extra cloth, 
 gold tops, ornamental covers, un- 
 cut edges, six volumes in a box, 
 
 $6.00 
 
 Sold separately, $1.00 each. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/carpetbaggernoveOOread 
 
THE 
 
 CARPETBAGGER 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 Opie Read and Frank Pixley 
 
 OTHER STORIES BY OPIE READ 
 
 "Old Ebenezer." "My Young Master," "On the Suwanee River," 
 
 "A Kentucky Colonel," "A Tennessee Judge," 
 
 "The Jucklins," etc., etc. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 LAIRD & LEE, PUBLISHERS 
 
Kntered according to Act of Congress in the year eighteen 
 huudreti and ninety-nine, by 
 
 WILLIAM H. LEE, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 
 
 (ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.) 
 

 CONTENTS 
 
 PACE. 
 
 Preface, 
 
 . . . . . . 
 
 7 
 
 Chap I. 
 
 The American Czar, 
 
 9 
 
 11. 
 
 The Girl from the North, 
 
 17 
 
 III. 
 
 A Railroad mostly Swamps, 
 
 24 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Alligator Boy, 
 
 43 
 
 V. 
 
 Old Steve's Missionary, 
 
 58 
 
 VI. 
 
 The Old Man's Sweat Box, 
 
 70 
 
 VII. 
 
 Who Does the Counting? 
 
 78 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Governor wipes out a Blot. 
 
 89 
 
 IX. 
 
 The Governor's Sunday, 
 
 94 
 
 X. 
 
 The High-headed Woman, 
 
 .97 
 
 XI. 
 
 A Sigh and a Drink, 
 
 103 
 
 XII. 
 
 He Meets a Bullet, 
 
 no 
 
 \u\. 
 
 Who raised the Devil? 
 
 119 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The Old Man's side of it. 
 
 131 
 
 XV. 
 
 A Horticultural Idea, 
 
 145 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Not Quite so Muddy, 
 
 153 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Nothing but Action now, . 
 
 162 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The Whipporwill's Call, . 
 
 167 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Moving the Menagerie, 
 
 176 
 
 XX. 
 
 A Bad Way to Sprinkle the Law«, 
 
 183 
 
Chap. XXI. The Boy at the Spring, . . . 191 
 
 XXII. Face to Face with Himself. . 200 
 
 XXIII. Drawing Hinn Out, ... 207 
 
 XXIV. The Governor Meets the "Bad Man." 220 
 
 XXV. Food for Scandal 229 
 
 XXVI. The Major Files an Objection, . 237 
 
 XXVII. A Faded Rose. . . .246 
 
 XXVIII. In a Dead Man's Hand, . . 254 
 
 XXIX. The Check that Conscience Draws, 260 
 
 XXX. A Good Time-Piece, ... 269 
 
 XXXI. Mr. Willets Makes a Point, . . 288 
 
 XXXII. What Jim Found, . . 291 
 
 XXXIII. The Waters Cleared. ... 302 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Many plays have been made from novels ; this is a 
 book made from a play. "The Carpetbagger" origin- 
 ally was written as a four-act comedy. It was performed 
 for thirty weeks during the theatrical season of 1898-9, 
 under the intelligent management of Mr. Tim Murphy, 
 and met with a most flattering reception. There 
 have been so many requests for the preservation of this 
 story in permanent form, that we have been led to 
 publish it as a novel, and the result is before you. 
 
 Don't search your histories for the Carpetbagger 
 herein introduced. He isn't there. Our Carpetbagger 
 is not one who really was, but one who might have been. 
 We have not written history ; but we have told much 
 truth, a virtue which not all history possesses. The 
 character of Melville Crance is consistent with the 
 times in which he lived ; consistent with the Yankee 
 nature — with that of any man who, though gone astray, 
 knows the road that leads back to honesty. 
 
 • THE AUTHORS. 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 THE AMERICAN CZAR 
 
 At the close of the Civil War it had not been 
 proved to the world that this government was more 
 than an experiment. A great rebellion had been 
 crushed but victory lay red upon a devastated land. 
 Throughout the South force was law. It seemed 
 that the very principle of democracy had been 
 shrouded in a tent-cloth. Society sighed out its 
 breath in despair. For the aged there was no hope 
 and youth had been taught iconoclasm. Then was 
 begun the slow work of reconstruction. Each day 
 was a whimsical joke. Politics was a comic opera 
 and statemanship a farce. From the North there 
 came a horde of political gamblers whom the 
 Southerners contemptuously called "Carpetbag- 
 gers." Many of them were men of marked ability; 
 nearly all were "characters"; but few indeed had 
 held positions of trust at home. They enacted the 
 
 9 
 
10 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 mockery of re-establishing civil law. While some 
 scrambled for places on the bench, the boldest 
 managed to install themselves in the chairs once 
 held by sedate old governors. These olBces v^ere 
 not meted out by fitness. It is not know^n that 
 they were not won with dice. 
 
 Prominent among these adventurers was Melville 
 Crance, Governor of Mississippi. He was a tall, 
 rather gaunt man of fifty, with a serious face and 
 the Yankee light of humor in his eye. In Chicago 
 he had been an auctioneer and at the beginning 
 of the war had joined a cavalry regiment. It was 
 said that he served with distinction. No one could 
 doubt his nerve. No one had cause to suspect 
 that he ever entertained an honest thought. He 
 was not well educated but was far from ignorant. 
 On one occasion he was heard to remark: "Oh, 
 whenever I find that a man has more education 
 than I have, I skip his learning and hit his common- 
 sense." As the alien governor of a proud, old 
 state, humbled into the dust, he was, of course, most 
 enthusiastically hated. Socially he was ostracised. 
 
 Ncq 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 11 
 
 Women turned up their noses at him in the street. 
 His daily mail consisted largely of threatening 
 letters. One morning while going to his office he 
 overheard a man say: "Bet you ten dollars that 
 fellow won't live a month." And then came the 
 reply: "You want a sure thing when you bet." 
 Such was the atmosphere in which he lived; and 
 yet, within his jurisdiction, he was supreme, an 
 absolute monarch in a republic, an American czar. 
 The president of the nation never would have dared 
 to usurp such authority. His word was arrest, 
 fine, imprisonment. He and his friends owned the 
 legislature. A rebellious member who ventured to 
 oppose a bill was promptly brought before a com- 
 mittee, "investigated" and expelled from the House 
 on the pretext of ballot-box trickery at the time 
 of his election. It was a huge joke but the recal- 
 citrant had to go. 
 
 A ring of lobbyists was the nearest approach to 
 a gubernatorial board of advisers. The Governor, 
 with his shrewdness, could not shut his eyes to the 
 greed and lawlessness of those fellows; but why 
 
12 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 should he care? He was there not to detect thiev- 
 ery but to make it profitable to himself. His sense 
 of humor was his conscience; and humor, which is 
 always half a rascal, ever stands ready to pardon a 
 frailty. 
 
 Chief among these lobbyists was a man named 
 Willetts. Before the war he had been a gambler 
 on the Mississippi river. It was said that he once 
 had bet two negro boys on a "four flush". An 
 opponent "raised" him with two men and he "lay 
 down." This was a river lie, of course, but it illus- 
 trated his character. When the war "broke out," 
 he broke out, too — went to Canada, remained till 
 peace was nominally established and then hurried 
 South with the Carpetbaggers. His sole recom- 
 mendation was his coolness, and it was a good 
 one, for at that time Mississippi was not an appro- 
 priate place for a hot-headed man. 
 
 "Yes, I'm cool enough," he remarked one day 
 to the Governor, "but I'm not as cool as you are. 
 I understand that you've sent for your daughter." 
 
 "Yes, she's tired of school — thought I'd give her 
 a vacation." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 13 
 
 "Vacation? In such a place as this!" Willetts 
 exclaimed. 
 
 The Governor looked at him with a dry smile. 
 '"Why not? I live in the finest mansion in the 
 city of Jackson, And it's a most exclusive place. 
 The neighbors never bother me; no back-door 
 callers. No one ever borrows a tea-cup of vinegar 
 from me. I'm left alone to the repose of my li- 
 brary, where I can muse over the bills introduced 
 into the legislature. She'll like it and why should- 
 n't I have at least one congenial visitor?" 
 
 "But some one shot at you one night, not long 
 ago. 
 
 "A bullet did come through the window and bore 
 into 'The Life and Character of S. S. Prentiss,' 
 but that's all. The window was up at the time 
 and the glass wasn't broken. Yes, Nellie wanted 
 to come down here, and I told, her to come on. 
 Things are gradually getting better. Some of the 
 preachers have advocated forgiveness, and the 
 lawyers are hammering away in the couFts. Oh, 
 it will all come around in time." 
 
14 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Yes," said Willetts, "and I think we ought to 
 make the most of it — in time. As soon as they 
 hear the facts at Washington — why, we'll be bun- 
 dled out of here, that's all. For a year or more 
 they may believe that it's simply the usual howl 
 of the spiteful, but sooner or later the truth " 
 
 "What's that?" The Governor looked up with a 
 twinkle. "The truth? I'm a plain-spoken man, 
 and I don't believe in the introduction of such 
 strange figures of speech. I'm busy. As you go 
 out tell Lummers to come here." 
 
 This talk had taken place in the Governor's 
 private office, off from the executive chamber. It 
 was mainly noted for a large demijohn which stood 
 on a shelf. The old man took a certain number of 
 drinks a day. What that number was no one ever 
 discovered; but no one could say that he was ever 
 under the influence of whiskey. He smacked his 
 mouth over his liquor, and that sort of drinker is 
 not often found among the drunkards. 
 
 Lummers came into the room. The Governor 
 had given him the post of private secretary, not 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 15 
 
 because he was bright, but because he was not. 
 He was faithful enough to be useful, dull enough 
 not to investigate motive, and that was a virtue 
 under the administration of Melville Crance. 
 
 "Lummers, do you remember a piece of paper 
 with 48 and a star marked on it?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Do you know where it is?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, I can bring it to you.' 
 
 "Well, that's exactly what I don't want. I want 
 it to disappear. Understand?" 
 
 "I think I do, sir." 
 
 "But I don't want you to think. You under- 
 stand?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "A committee from the house may call for that 
 paper. The rascals are getting a trifle too inde- 
 pendent. It was stolen, Lummers." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "And I think that we can prove, if necessary, 
 that it was stolen by a man named Simpson. He's 
 the chairman of an investigating committee." 
 
16 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "We can prove it, sir." 
 
 "If necessary. It may not be." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "That's all. Go on." 
 
 Lummers went back to his desk in the executive 
 chamber. Yes, he was dull; but under the tutelage 
 of Mr. Willetts he was beginning to brighten — not 
 sufficiently to betray himself with shining, but 
 enough, perhaps, to serve the purpose of the 
 gambler. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE GIRL FROM THE NORTH 
 
 Within an hour after her arrival at the guberna- 
 torial mansion, Nellie Crance was completely mis- 
 tress of the place. She romped along the wide halls, 
 ran up and down the stairs three steps at a time, 
 burst unannounced into the library and put to flight 
 a legislative committee in conference with the gov- 
 ernor. She waited for no introduction. Why 
 should she? Was she not the daughter of the 
 greatest man in Mississippi, and, in her estimation, 
 the greatest in the world? 
 
 For the first time big Jim, the governor's body 
 servant, found his exclusive prerogatives ques- 
 tioned. "She's a tulip," he soliloquized, as he 
 watched her flitting about the house. "Ef she aint 
 I don' know er flower w'en I sees it." 
 
 "Who lives over there?" she inquired, pointing 
 toward a big stone house half hidden among the 
 trees beyond the garden. 
 
 17 
 
18 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Mis' Fairburn," replied the negro, leaning 
 against one of the tall Corinthian pillars of the 
 broad veranda. 
 
 "Miss Fairburn," echoed Nellie, regarding the 
 neighboring residence with evident curiosity. 
 
 "Yassum," continued Jim, "de Widder Fair- 
 burn." 
 
 "Oh! And so she's a widow. Is she nice?" 
 
 "Oh, yassum, she's powerful nice." 
 
 "Goody! I'm going to run over and see her." 
 
 The old negro shook his head. "I wouldn't, 
 Miss," he said, "ef I wuz in yo' fix." 
 
 "Why, what's the matter with me?" she cried, 
 glancing at her pretty frock. "Don't I look all 
 right?" 
 
 "Oh, yassum; but dat aint it. Yo' know dar 
 aint much visitin' gwine on twixt de Gub'nor an' 
 dese yere folks. Day's monstrous high-headed. 
 Dat lady ober dar wouldn't walk on de groun' at 
 all if dar wuz anywhar else t' walk. She wouldn't, 
 foh a fac'. Sometimes she jest don' tech de groun* 
 'cept in de high places." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 19 
 
 "The stuck-up thing!" 
 
 "Yassum." 
 
 "Well, she needn't put on any airs, I guess. Pa 
 is the biggest man in this state and he used to be 
 the best auctioneer in Chicago, too." 
 
 "Is dat so? I nebber heered him say: but he's 
 no man to boast and brag 'bout hisself, anyway." 
 
 As they re-entered the house it was clear that 
 she had given her father a new claim to greatness 
 in the eyes of the negro. 
 
 "Well, how do you like it?" asked the Governor, 
 with a comprehensive sweep of the arm. 
 
 "It's just perfectly elegant," was Nellie's ecstatic 
 reply, an expression which among boarding-school 
 girls the world over is accepted as the highest pos- 
 sible form of praise. 
 
 "Make yourself at home," he added. "Jim and 
 I've got to go down to the state house now for 
 a while. If you get lonesome you'll find plenty of 
 books in the library." 
 
 "But I don't care for books," she exclaimed, pet- 
 ulantly. "I had enough of that at school. I'm 
 going with you." 
 
20 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "No; not to-day," said the Governor, laying his 
 hand upon her bronze head. "I've got some very 
 important business to attend to and must be alone." 
 
 "It can't be so very important," she protested, 
 "if you can do it alone. I've heard so much about 
 state houses all my life and I've never seen one. 
 Are they bigger than boarding-schools? Why not 
 let me go?" 
 
 "Not to-day," he repeated, kindly. "You shall 
 go down with me in a day or two, when I get my 
 afifairs in a little better shape, and then I'll shov; 
 you everything and you may take possession." 
 
 She followed him down the hall, clinging to his 
 arm. 
 
 "Where did you get that big black man?" she 
 asked, confidentially, pointing to Jim. "Aren't 
 you afraid of him?" 
 
 "Afraid? Nonsense!" he said. "Jim is my 
 friend. The best one I have," he added, with a 
 serious note in his voice. "I'm not afraid of any 
 man whose blackness is only skin deep. It's the 
 white man v/ho is black inside that makes me lie 
 awake nights." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 21 
 
 Standing at the garden gate she waved farewell 
 with a dainty handkerchief until the governor and 
 his companion disappeared down the street and 
 then returned to the house. For an hour or two 
 she was kept busy investigating new mysteries 
 about the big mansion; but at last she grew tired 
 of exploration and settled down for rest upon the 
 veranda. The great stone house on the other side 
 of the garden wall furnished an abundant theme 
 for speculation and she fell to wondering what its 
 owner looked like. Was she old? Did she dress in 
 black? Was she cross and crabbed or proud and 
 haughty? Curiosity rising dominant she asked her- 
 self if it might not be possible to catch a glimpse of 
 the unknown neighbor. At any rate there could 
 be no harm in seeing the house at closer quarters, 
 so she strolled down through the garden in that 
 direction until she found further progress stopped 
 by a high stone wall which completely shut out all 
 view of the adjoining grounds. Walking along this 
 barrier and seeking in vain for a gate or a rift in 
 the masonry she suddenly was startled by a slight 
 
22 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 commotion among the branches of a cherry tree 
 which grew close to the wall, upon the other side, 
 and, glancing up, saw a boy in the tree top. 
 And cherries — red cherries — among the green 
 leaves! 
 
 "Hello!" she eric excitedly. "Are they ripe?" 
 
 The commotion among the branches ceased and 
 a boyish face looked down at her in surprise. 
 
 "Some of 'em are," he said. "I was trying to 
 pick a few." 
 
 "Why, up in Chicago the cherry trees are in blos- 
 som yet." 
 
 "There'll be plenty of 'em next week," said the 
 youngster, clambering down and swinging easily to 
 the top of the wall. "They're pretty green now. 
 Do you live in Chicago?" 
 
 "Ah, ha," replied Nellie, nodding her head 
 affirmatively. "When I'm at home. I'm down 
 here now visiting Pa. You live over there, I 
 s'pose," she added, indicating the big stone house 
 v/hose roof was discernible among the trees. "Is 
 your mother the high-headed woman?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 23 
 
 "She's high-headed with some folks," said the 
 boy with significant emphasis. "You are the gov- 
 ernor's daughter, are you?" 
 
 "Ah, ha. Come on down." 
 
 "Mother wouldn't like it." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "She doesn't let me go over there." 
 
 "What are you 'fraid of? I won't hurt you." 
 
 "We don't know your folks." 
 
 "Well, you'd better." 
 
 There was a minute of silence during which the 
 cherry-picker evidently was debating some weighty 
 question with himself. "Say," he suddenly re- 
 marked. "Can your father get me a commission 
 in the army?" 
 
 "You bet he can," was the ready answer. "My 
 father can get anything." 
 
 The boy dropped lightly upon a flower bed in 
 the governor's yard. "I won't go into the house," 
 he said. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A RAILROAD MOSTLY SWAMP 
 
 The Carpetbag government had begun to totter — 
 there could be no doubt of that fact. The corrup- 
 tionists who had long overridden law and order 
 were fast overreaching themselves and a keen nos- 
 tril already could scent the coming of danger. The 
 old party, crushed to the ground, was beginning 
 to lift its head. It had begun to parade the streets, 
 beneath the folds of the conqueror's flag. It had 
 begun to shout for equal rights and to call on the 
 Constitution. In this there surely was no treason, 
 but it was dangerous for the dominant power. The 
 writing on the wall was growing plainer every day. 
 Willetts saw it and was at no loss to interpret the 
 unwelcome warning. 
 
 "One of these days the streets out there will be 
 so hot I can't walk on them," he said, as he calmly 
 surveyed the situation, "but it's always cool enough 
 in Canada and I know the way there." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 25 
 
 With the connivance of a few cronies in the legis- 
 lature he had planned a last desperate assault upon 
 the treasury of the plundered state. A bill had 
 been drawn up providing for a grant of 200,000 
 acres of state lands to a fictitious railway corpora- 
 tion, existing only on paper. Included in this grant 
 were some of the most valuable mineral deposits of 
 the state. It was a gigantic steal and Willetts 
 hoped to make its consummation the signal for his 
 second flight from the South. 
 
 Only one point gave him serious uneasiness — 
 the bill must be signed by Governor Crance. While 
 he had no doubt that the Governor's signature could 
 easily be obtained, his knowledge of that official 
 caused him to fear that the cost would be prohib- 
 itive. He felt the need of a friend at court, not 
 for influence, but for information, and turned to 
 Lummers. "He's a two-spot," said the gambler, 
 "but he may save the trick for us." As for Lum- 
 mers he was greatly elated by the new relation and 
 deeply gratified that he was of sufficient importance 
 to attract the friendly consideration of Mr. Wil- 
 letts. 
 
26 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 One morning as he was sitting at his desk ex- 
 amining letters, Jim entered. Lummers looked up 
 at him, glanced about the room and said: "If Mr. 
 Willetts calls, show him in at once." 
 
 "Yas, sah," Jim replied, bowing. 
 
 "Wait a moment," Lummers added, as Jim 
 turned to go. "If Mr. Willetts doesn't come till 
 after the Governor gets here, leave him in the re- 
 ception room and bring in his card. Understand?" 
 
 "Yas, sah," Jim replied, turning away. But be- 
 fore reaching the door he halted, studied a moment 
 in a negro's heavy way and then turned again to 
 Lummers. "Mr. Lummers, 'bout how long you 
 reckon dis yere job gwine t' last?" 
 
 Lummers looked up in surprise. "What are you 
 talking about?" 
 
 "I'se talkin' 'bout dis yere 'ministration Job, sah. 
 I yere 'em say dat — " 
 
 "You hear them say v^^hat?" Lummers broke in 
 irritably. 
 
 Jim pondered and then replied: "W'y, I yere 
 'em say dat dis wliut dey calls de kyarpetbag guber- 
 ment kain.'t last much lonrrer." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 27 
 
 "Well, you don't want to hear anything like 
 that," said Lummers, shuffling the letters, "and you 
 don't want to be talking it, either. Do you hear?" 
 he added looking straight at the negro. 
 
 Jim ducked his head. "Yas, sah. O' cose I likes 
 dis place all right 'nough — you knows dat — but you 
 also knows dat a sensible man mus' keep his eyes 
 open in de lookout fur anudder place in case one 
 slips from under him." He paused, scratching his 
 head. "Yas, sah. An' ef de arthquake should come 
 an' fling dis yere guberment in de a'r, you and de 
 Gub'nor would light on yo' feet all right like a cat, 
 but whar'd I be?" He grunted and shifted his 
 weight from one leg to the other. "Huh! I'd hit 
 de groun' an' flatten out like I been flung ofif'n a 
 house." 
 
 Lummers handed him a number of letters and 
 with an air of assumed carelessness said: "Stop 
 your cackling. Drop these in the box." 
 
 Jim took the letters and slowly walked out, mood- 
 ily shaking his head. Lummers lighted a cigar. 
 "It's in the air/' he mused. "Even that negro sees 
 
28 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 it. Well, we'll have to hurry things, and when it 
 comes we'll try to land on our feet. I've been here 
 going on two years now, and I'm getting enough 
 of it." He got up and walked about the room. "If 
 Willetts and I can pull this thing through, the 
 North will be good enough for me. I don't like 
 these Southerners anyway — always poking 'round, 
 looking for somebody to insult 'em. And if the 
 Governor lets them have too much swing they'll 
 carry an election against him and — well, reconstruc- 
 tion's all right enough, but we don't want to recon- 
 struct too fast. Ah! Come in." 
 
 Jim had shown Willetts into the room, and was 
 standing at the door with a grin on his face. 
 
 "Good morning," said Willetts. "Has the old 
 man got down yet?" 
 
 "No, but I think he'll be here- presently. It's time 
 for him now," he added, glancing at the clock. 
 
 "Send the coon away," said Willetts, speaking 
 in a low tone. 
 
 Lummers motioned toward the reception room 
 and Jim disappeared. "How is it going?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 29 
 
 "Oh, fairly," Willetts answered. "Have you 
 sounded the old man?" 
 
 Lummers shook his head. "I've been thinking 
 it over since I saw you," he said, "and I've come 
 to the conclusion that you'd better open this deal 
 yourself." 
 
 "What's the matter? Knees weak?" 
 
 "No," said Lummers, "but the fact is, I'm too 
 close to him. He knows me too well. You set the 
 ball rolling and I'll try to keep it going." 
 
 "Um," Willetts grunted. "You are dead sure 
 about this, are you? I've worked with him a good 
 deal, you know, but on nothing very heavy. If I 
 could get him into a poker game I'd know his 
 character better. He doesn't always seem to be the 
 same. Are you sure he won't shy at the cars?" 
 
 "Not if there's anything in the cars he wants," 
 Lummers replied. 
 
 "How much do you think it will take to fix this 
 end of it?" 
 
 "Well," said Lummers, "the Governor isn't down 
 here for his health. I've never known a case where 
 he didn't want all he thought he could p-et." 
 
80 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 This threw Willetts into a state of reflection. 
 "That's just the trouble," he said. "And if the old 
 man gets a glimpse of our hands he'll blow us out 
 of the pot. And, say, not a word about the ore 
 deposits. Let him believe, with the rest, that it's 
 nearly all swamp." 
 
 "Yes," said Lummers, "it's all right to let him 
 believe anything he — There's the Governor," 
 he broke ofif, as a door in the private office slammed. 
 "You'd better not be found here," he added, "come 
 in after a while. It v/ill look less suspicious. And 
 remember when you do get at him, no sparring — 
 straight from the shoulder." 
 
 Willetts vanished and Lummers returned to his 
 desk and was busy with papers when the Governor 
 entered. 
 
 "Good morning, good morning," was the old 
 man's brisk greeting, as he took his accustomed 
 seat at a flat top desk almost in the center of the 
 room. 
 
 "Good morning. Governor," responded Lum- 
 mers, striving to give an innocent inflection to his 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 31 
 
 voice. He placed a number of letters and docu- 
 ments upon the Governor's desk and returned to 
 the place where he was wont to sit in dull obscurity, 
 ignored by politicians and overlooked by the aver- 
 age lobbyist. 
 
 The Governor sat for a time, musing. From the 
 walls there looked down upon him the portraits of 
 Andrew Jackson, Henry Clay, the fiery Calhoun 
 and the old Missourian who wrote "Thirty years in 
 the American Senate." Delicious perfumes floated 
 in from the neighboring gardens. 
 
 He took up a letter. "Ah — um," he said, "was 
 old man Francis here to see about that pardon for 
 his son?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," Lunmiers replied, "he called yesterday 
 after you left." 
 
 "Well," added the Governor, reading a letter, 
 "how much did he say they'd scraped together?" 
 
 "He thought he could raise about twenty-two 
 hundred," Lummers answered. 
 
 "Twenty-two, eh?" echoed the Carpetbagger, 
 shaking his head. "Well, I don't see how that boy 
 can be innocent for less than five thousand." 
 
32 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 At that moment a card was brought in. It bore 
 the name of James Hill, and in pencil were written 
 the words: "Don't know you, but must see you 
 for your own good." The man was admitted. He 
 was dressed in a long black coat, shining with 
 wear- 
 
 "Sit down/' said the Governor. "Now," he 
 added, "come to the point as soon as you can." 
 
 "Yes, sir. I am of a type of men " 
 
 "I know your type all right. Go ahead." 
 
 "I beg your pardon." 
 
 "Granted, go on." 
 
 "But I must get at it in my own way, sir. I 
 am of a type which bobs up on certain occasions 
 and then bobs out of sight forever. You may 
 never see me again." 
 
 The Governor's eyes began to twinkle. "You 
 alarm me," he said. "It is sad to chop off a pleas- 
 ant acquaintance so abruptly. But your business?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. In my nature there is an abhorrence 
 of bloodshed." 
 
 "You surprise me," said the Governor. "How 
 did that happen?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 33 
 
 "Born that way. I have called to warn you." 
 
 "Against what?" 
 
 "An assassin, who would take your life," 
 
 "Did you bring him with you?" 
 
 *'I am serious, sir. I heard this man swear that 
 he was going to have your blood." 
 
 "Not all of it, I hope." 
 
 "He is going to shoot you on sight. Pull down 
 your curtain. Don't expose yourself at night. 
 That's all." 
 
 "Much obliged to you," said the Governor. 
 
 "Not at all. And now, I have a favor to ask." 
 
 The Governor's eyes began to twinkle again. 
 "Go ahead." 
 
 "I understand that a member has been expelled 
 from the house. I want his place." 
 
 "Hm! What qualifications do you possess?" 
 
 "Intelligence and devotion to duty. I would 
 serve you well. I am an honorable man." 
 
 "So I see. You want me to put you in the 
 house — to order a special election from an out-of- 
 the-way county and declare you elected. Is that 
 it?" 
 
34 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Well, yes, sir; that is about it." 
 
 *'My friend," said the Governor, "I am about as 
 well acquainted with rascality as the majority of 
 men. I like the average rascal. But I am afraid 
 you are a little over-drawn. Get out of here— just 
 as quick as you can." 
 
 "If I go out, sir, I shall leave you to your fate." 
 
 "Well, do it. Who is it, Jim?" 
 
 "Mr. Willetts, sah." 
 
 As Mr. Hill passed out Willetts stared at him, 
 
 "Governor," began the lobbyist, "there are 
 times " 
 
 "Yes, I know that; but what is it?" 
 
 "There are times when a man ought to be partic- 
 ular. This is one of them. How did that fellow 
 manage to get in here? He's the worst man in the 
 community. He was a deserter from both sides 
 during the war and was convicted for stealing 
 cotton." 
 
 "Since the war?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What a thief! Of course it's another matter if 
 he stole it during the war. What's up?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 35 
 
 "Governor," said Willetts, "I am interested in a 
 house bill introduced the other day. It pro- 
 vides " 
 
 "Ah, ha!" the Governor exclaimed, reading from 
 a letter he had just opened. " 'Unless you abdicate 
 that office and leave the state within a week I will 
 shoot the top of your head ofif.' The top of my 
 head. Not the side or the bottom — just the top. 
 That's generous." He crumpled the letter, threw 
 it into a waste-paper basket and nodding at his 
 visitor said: "Go ahead." 
 
 Willetts sighed, glanced over at Lummers and 
 continued: "The bill provides for a right of way 
 and land grant of about two-hundred thousand 
 acres — um, mostly swamp — to the Midland railway 
 company?" 
 
 The old man glanced up quickly. "What's that?" 
 he said. "What railroad?" 
 
 "Well, the corporation, Governor, as yet has not 
 been completely organized." 
 
 "Um — that's mostly swamp, too, is it?" 
 
 Willetts hesitated. The Governor continued to 
 
38 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 read his letters. ""Well, go ahead," he commandedi 
 and then, addressed himself to a letter: " 'Will 
 shoot you on sight.' Signed 'John Pardue'." He 
 turned to Lummers. "Who's John Pardue? 
 Didn't we get a letter from him some time ago?" 
 
 "I think we did, sir," Lummers answered. 
 
 "Well, if John can't shoot any better than he 
 writes he couldn't hit a prairie set up on edge." 
 Then, turning to Willetts, he added: "Go on, sir; 
 go on." 
 
 Willetts again essayed to explain the scope of the 
 bill, though now in rather a disappointed way. 
 "This road," he proceeded, "will be a good thing 
 for the state in every way. It will build up towns 
 and serve as a commercial highway for a very rich 
 section of country " 
 
 "Mostly swamp?" the Governor interrupted, 
 looking up, with droll humor. 
 
 The lobbyist wavered. He felt the cold gray 
 eyes of the Governor boring through him and knew 
 that equivocation was hopeless. But he made a 
 bold rally. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 37 
 
 "Well, yes," he said, ''on the left it is pretty much 
 swamp. But over here," he added with a motion 
 of his hand, "you see, it cuts off two himdred miles 
 of unnecessary river transportation — and, well " 
 
 "I see," said the Governor. 
 
 "In fact," continued Willetts, with forced im- 
 pressiveness, "it will be a mighty good thing — for 
 all of us." 
 
 The Governor glanced at him. "Who's 'us'?" 
 
 "Well, all of us, you know." 
 
 "Yes, I know," the Governor admitted, "but 
 what part of the 'us' am I?" 
 
 This staggered the lobbyist for a moment but he 
 rallied his faculties. "Financially, Governor," he 
 said, confidentially, "that word shall be spelled with 
 a capital YOU." 
 
 "Spread your scheme," said the Governor, turn- 
 ing again to his letters. " 'Has left this county for 
 the capital'," he proceeded, reading aloud, " 'and I 
 have cause to believe that he means bodily harm to 
 you'. Lummers, who is Nat Robey? Ever hear of 
 him?" 
 
38 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "I've heard that he is a desperate character, sir," 
 said Lummers, turning in his chair. 
 
 "Hm!" remarked the Governor. "The Sheriff 
 of Dixon county says that Mr. Robey is on his way 
 down here. By the way, isn't he the fellow that 
 Jim disarmed out there the other day? Jim!" he 
 called. 
 
 "Yas, sah," Jim answered, stepping into the 
 room. 
 
 ''You took a gun from a man out there the other 
 day. Wasn't his name Robey?" 
 
 "Who, dat generman wid de yaller ha'r? Naw, 
 sah, his name was Mr. Crane." 
 
 "I thought the yellow-haired fellow was Ruther- 
 ford." 
 
 "Naw, sah," said Jim, brightening with the self- 
 compliment of his own recollection, "Mr. Ruther- 
 ford wuz de generman whut come wid a thing wid 
 a fuse in it an' tried ter set it afire in de house." 
 
 "All right," said the Governor, waving him back 
 to his post. 
 
 "Governor," cautioned Lummers, "you ought to 
 be more careful." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 39 
 
 "You ought not to take such chances, Governor," 
 Willetts spoke up. 
 
 "Go ahead with your land grant," said the Gov- 
 ernor, taking up another letter. 
 
 Willetts again proceeded: "The bill, as I said, 
 has been introduced, and after the first reading has 
 been referred to a committee. I think it will be 
 reported favorably, but it may require a little — ^at- 
 tention — on our part." 
 
 "Um-yes," said the Governor. "Astonishing, 
 isn't it, how much hard work is sometimes re- 
 quired to accomplish a — ^praiseworthy — object?" 
 
 Willetts sighed. '1 could wish," said he, "that 
 you seemed a little more interested." 
 
 "Interested!" the Governor exclaimed. "Why, 
 I am tickled to death with it. Go ahead." 
 
 Jim stepped into the room and holding out a 
 telegram toward Lummers said: "Anudder one 
 deze yaller letters, sah." Lummers handed the 
 telegram to the Governor, who tore it open and 
 read aloud: "Jasper, Hilliard County, April sixth: 
 Newly appointed sheriff assassinated last night by 
 KuKlux." 
 
40 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Lummers," he said, "order two companies of 
 militia quartered in the town." Then he addressed 
 Willetts: "If I understand you this land is for a 
 railroad — a road, in fact, much needed by our 
 people." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Willetts, brightening, "one that 
 will greatly benefit the state." 
 
 "Uin," the chief executive grunted, "yes. Has 
 it occurred to you that on occasions of this sort I 
 sometimes am the state?" 
 
 "Well," Willetts drawled, "not exactly in that 
 light, but, perhaps — " 
 
 The Governor broke in upon him: "How much 
 will the state be benefited? In that light — how 
 much?" 
 
 Willets reflected. "Would the state regard thirty 
 thousand dollars as suf^cient benefit?" he asked. 
 
 The Governor turned to Lummers. "Issue an 
 order for the arrest of James Strickland, of Marion- 
 ville, and have him brought to this city." Proceed- 
 ing to read another letter he remarked for the bene- 
 fit of Willetts: "When the state is very busy it can 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 41 
 
 scarcely afford to divert its mind into other chan- 
 nels for so small a sum. To give — er — conscientious 
 attention, the state must be better paid." 
 
 Willetts leaned towards him. "Say fifty thou- 
 sand." 
 
 "Ah," exclaimed the executive. "The state's ear 
 is a little warmer toward that proposition. Say fifty 
 — ^when the bill is signed. What's been done? Any 
 opposition?" 
 
 "Well, yes, of course there's a little. Represen- 
 tative Felton says — " 
 
 "Felton, eh? He has been trying to get an ap- 
 pointment for his son-in-law. Leave Felton to 
 me. 
 
 "The only real element of strength brought 
 against us," added Willetts, "is Wiley Jones." 
 
 "Jones," mused the Governor. "Wiley Jones — 
 yes, of Spencer county." 
 
 "Well," said Willetts, "he lives down the river a 
 short distance from here, but he represents Spencer 
 county." 
 
 "I understand," the old man replied. "Let's see, 
 
42 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 wasn't his election contested? I sided in his favor 
 — before all the facts were known, you understand," 
 he said with a wink. "Additional evidence might 
 render it necessary to reopen Mr. Jones' case. You 
 go to him — yourself — and tell him I want to see 
 him here right away." 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE ALLIGATOR BOY 
 
 Above the door leading to his private office the 
 Governor had placed a bust of Lincoln and many a 
 time, in the midst of his threatening letters and the 
 manifold annoyances that beset him, he would turn 
 to gaze upon it. Dishonor contemplating the em- 
 blem of Honesty. At such times even the dull- 
 minded Lummers could fancy a struggle in the 
 mind of his master. But the struggle, if at all, was 
 ever brief. Vice often pays silent homage to vir- 
 tues it will not emulate. 
 
 When Willetts left the room the Governor turned 
 to the bust, his face serious, a letter crumpled in 
 his hand. Suddenly he looked at Lummers as if 
 he felt the intrusion of a stealthy gaze. 
 
 "Well, what is it?" 
 
 "Nothing, sir," Lummers replied. 
 
 "What were you looking at me for?" 
 
 43 
 
44 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "I didn't— didn't know I was looking." 
 
 "Um, you didn't? Well, see that you know when 
 you're looking after this." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 The young man's humility touched him. "I 
 didn't mean anything by that, Lummers," he said. 
 "It was a joke. What do you do with your money, 
 anyway?" 
 
 "I send it home, sir." 
 
 "That's right, take care of it. There'll come a 
 time when it will not be so easy to get. I'm going 
 to raise your salary." 
 
 "I am very much obliged to you, sir." 
 
 "For the advice or the increase of salary?" 
 
 "For — for both," Lummers stammered. 
 
 "All right. But let me tell you, the advice is 
 worth most." 
 
 He took a paper out of a drawer and began to 
 read. After a time he put it down and fell into a 
 deep muse. In the air there was a suggestion of a 
 change in the season, and his mind flew back to a 
 time when he worked on a farm in Illinois. He 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 45 
 
 looked at the palm of his hand as if to trace the 
 reminder of a day of heavy labor. His life had 
 been hard, a waif bound to an exacting farmer. 
 When the boys of the South, recently his foemen, 
 had danced rapturously with the negroes in the 
 quarter; when, at Christmas time, they had come 
 home to be worshipped as the heirs of a great baron, 
 he had gone at daylight to the barn to milk the 
 cows. How well he remembered the creak of the 
 frozen door, the farmer's scolding, the cheerless 
 breakfast! And there above the door were the stern 
 features of one whose boyhood, like his own, had 
 been a span of toil and deprivation. "But he came 
 to save the sons of a down-trodden race," he said 
 aloud, and Lummers looked up. Just at that mo- 
 ment Jim was heard, outside. 
 
 "Say, hoi' on dar, lady, you kain't go in dar' 
 lessen you's 'nounced." 
 
 "The idea!" came a voice in reply. "Go 'way from 
 here, you impudent thing!" and then Nellie came 
 bounding into the room. 
 
 "Why, hello! hello!" cried the Governor, bright- 
 ening. "What are you doing down here?" 
 
46 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 She ran forward, gave the Governor a hearty kiss 
 and took a seat opposite him. "Is this chair for 
 me? I've been here nearly two weeks and you've 
 promised me every day you'd bring me down to 
 see the state house and you haven't done it. So 
 I've just come myself." She reached over and took 
 up a paper. "What's this?" 
 
 The Governor gently took it from her. "Never 
 mind." 
 
 "But what is it?" she insisted. 
 
 "Something that doesn't concern you. It's a par- 
 don." 
 
 "For a man?" she cried. "What did he do? Kill 
 somebody?" 
 
 "Worse than that," said the Governor, smiling. 
 
 "Worse than that? How many did he kill? A 
 whole family?" 
 
 "No, he stole a horse." 
 
 "The mean thing! Did he beat the horse?" 
 
 "Beat the horse's owner, I guess." 
 
 Lummers came forward to place some papers on 
 the desk. The Governor, glancing at one of them, 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 4? 
 
 asked: "What is Senate bill 147? Oh, I see, a 
 change in the Bolivar county line. All right." He 
 signed the paper and handed it back to Lummers, 
 who, glancing at the visitor, returned to his desk, 
 leaving the executive with his letters. Several 
 dingy portraits upon the walls soon became the 
 objects of Nellie's inquisitive regard. "Why don't 
 you have some prettier pictures here?" she asked. 
 
 "Don't blame me for those things," was the reply. 
 "They were here before I came." 
 
 "But who are they?" she insisted. 
 
 "Statesmen." 
 
 "Where are they now?" 
 
 "I don't know — they're dead." 
 
 "What! All of 'em dead?" 
 
 "Very — that's why they are statesmen. If they 
 were alive, they'd be politicians." 
 
 There was a brief interval of silence and then the 
 young woman broke in ecstatically, "Oh, I've been 
 having the loveliest time down here!" she cried. 
 "I've had more fun here in two weeks than I ever 
 could have in that old Chicago school. But I've 
 
48 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 met some of the funniest folks. Aren't they odd? 
 One old woman laughed at me because I said you 
 used to be the best auctioneer in Chicago. But you 
 were, weren't you?" 
 
 "I guess that's so," said the Governor, with a 
 chuckle. 
 
 "But I don't like the girls very well," Nellie went 
 on, "And stuck up! One of them said you stole 
 this office." She glanced about the room. "You 
 didn't, did you?" 
 
 "Nonsense," said the Governor, laughing. 
 
 "But how did you get it?" 
 
 "Well," said the Governor, his eyes twinkling, 
 "the other fellow moved out and I moved in." 
 
 "They call you a 'carpetbagger'," she continued, 
 with a suspicious quiver in her voice. "They say 
 you are 'only a carpetbag governor.' Is that any- 
 thing so — so — awfully bad?" 
 
 He wheeled about in his chair and looked full 
 upon her. There was a hard, stern look in his face 
 and his hands opened and closed nervously. She 
 was the one object on earth whom he worshipped; 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 49 
 
 he could have throttled anyone who would cause 
 her pain. For the first time the unpleasant truth . 
 was brought home to him that his own deeds and 
 misdeeds, his reputation, would descend as a herit- 
 age to his daughter. 
 
 "Don't mind them," he said, huskily, as he arose 
 to his feet and strode angrily up and down the 
 room. "Don't mind anything they say. They don't 
 like us very well down here. You are merely visit- 
 ing the plundered camps of the enemy, my dear; 
 that's all." 
 
 "Who plundered them?" she inquired, innocently. 
 
 The Governor winced. "The fortunes and mis- 
 fortunes of war,' he said. "Don't you bother your 
 pretty head about me. And don't you let them 
 worry you, either," he added, his resentment rising, 
 "If they tell you I am an interloper here, say to 
 them that the supreme power of this nation has 
 set me here and placed in my hands the authority 
 of a czar. If they say that the only wealth I brought 
 to the state of Mississippi was an empty carpetbag 
 tell them that I came here with a full cartridge- 
 belt." 
 
50 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 The Governor's tall form, swayed by emotion, 
 was drawn up to its full height. His eyes were 
 blazing. In his voice there was the defiant intona- 
 tion of a wounded animal at bay. A moment later 
 he sank into his chair, turned to his desk and picked 
 up a letter. 
 
 "Don't mind them," he said calmly. 
 
 "I won't," replied Nellie, with a toss of her curls. 
 "Only this morning I told Roy you'd make it 
 pretty hot for somebody if you ever heard — " 
 
 "Roy? Who's Roy?" 
 
 "Oh, I forgot. You don't know Roy, do you? 
 Well, he's awfully nice. He lives in that big stone 
 house just across the wall from us." 
 
 "Doesn't the Widow Fairburn live there?" 
 
 "Ah, ha. He's her son. Don't you know her?" 
 
 "Well, yes — when I see her. The fact is, you 
 know, I've been so busy since I came here that 
 I haven't had very much time for society." 
 
 "Well, he's awfully brave. He wants to be a cap- 
 tain in the army and go out West to fight Indians. 
 That's one of the reasons I'm down here now." 
 
 "Why? Because he wants to fight Indians?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 51 
 
 "No, because he wants to be a Captain. I told 
 him you'd get it for him," 
 
 "Get it for him!" exclaimed the governor with a 
 smile. "Why, he'd have to go through West Point 
 first." 
 
 "Oh," she said, "he wouldn't care about that. 
 He'd just let that part of it go." 
 
 "Ah! He'd be willing to waive West Point, 
 would he? That's generous." 
 
 "Ah, ha," she cried, nodding her head. "Oh, 
 come! Get it for him. I told him you would. And 
 really, I'm under the greatest obligations to him." 
 
 "What! So soon?" exclaimed the Governor. 
 
 "Soon! Why, it isn't so soon. He's been awfully 
 kind to me. And he gave me just the loveliest 
 alligator you ever saw. So long." She put her 
 fingers on her arm to measure the length of the 
 reptile. 
 
 **Gave you a what?" 
 
 "Ah, ha," she rattled on, "and it's just the sweet- 
 est thing. You ought to see how cute he shuts his 
 c^yes. 
 
 "Where is he now?" 
 
62 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Out there," she answered, pointing toward the 
 reception room. 
 
 "Jim," the Governor called, "bring in that alli- 
 gator." 
 
 "Oh, no," Nellie cried. "It's Roy." 
 
 "Well, Where's the alligator? I'm interested in 
 him now." 
 
 "He's up in your room, with the cat and the 
 parrot and Bulger," meaning by the latter as ugly 
 a bull-dog as ever sniffed about the portals of a 
 livery stable. 
 
 *'In my room, eh? Any room up there for me?" 
 
 Nellie laughed. "Well, you'll have to take your 
 chances." 
 
 "Um! That's what I've been doing ever since 
 I came here." 
 
 "But really," the girl continiied, returning to her 
 benefactor, "he's been ever so kind to me. And 
 you ought to see him eat flies!" she cried, with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 "What! The boy?" 
 
 "No— the alligator." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 53 
 
 "Oh 1 And the boy is out there? Have him come 
 in." 
 
 "He can't come in. The black man won't let 
 him." 
 
 "And he's going to be an Indian fighter, too?" 
 
 "Well," she pouted, "Indians are different." 
 
 "Are they? We'll see. Jim," he called, "show 
 in that young Indian fighter." 
 
 Roy appeared, gorgeous in a uniform that looked 
 as if it had been made for the drum major of a 
 country brass band. 
 
 "Come in, Roy," the girl cried. "It's all right!" 
 
 The Governor looked at him in astonishment. 
 "Um! Good morning. Bub," he said, with as- 
 sumed gravity. "Are you the alligator boy?" 
 
 The young fellow bristled up. "No, sir; I'm not 
 an alligator boy. I'm a gentleman and a soldier." 
 
 "There!" exclaimed the girl, clapping her hands. 
 
 "Where's your command?" the Governor asked. 
 
 *'Well, I haven't got one — yet," the boy replied. 
 
 "Hm!" ejaculated the Governor, quizzically in- 
 specting the youngster's nondescript clothing. 
 
54 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "That's fortunate. Where did you get that uni- 
 form?" 
 
 "This is something I planned myself," was the 
 proud reply. "Do you think it's all right, sir?" 
 
 The Governor laughed. "Well, I should say so. 
 But what is it, anyway? What does it mean?" 
 
 After a moment of bashful hesitancy, the young 
 man again found his voice. "It means just this," 
 he said. "Every fellow in this town who amounts 
 to shucks went into the army a private and came 
 out a colonel or a lieutenant or a major or some- 
 thing. They wouldn't let me go. I was too young. 
 So I had to stay at home and look after mother, 
 and now when everyone is talking about Bull Run 
 and Shiloh and Manassas Junction and Gettysburg, 
 where do I come in? Do you think I'm going 
 to be a dummy right through life just because 
 father and mother didn't begin housekeeping early 
 enough? I want to fight. I want a chance to show 
 the stuff I am made of. I want a commission in the 
 army. Nellie says you will get me one. Will you?" 
 
 The Governor arose. "I salute you, sir," he said. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 55 
 
 "But I don't know just how I should address you. 
 Your epaulettes tell me you are a general; your 
 chevrons say you are a sergeant; your buttons that 
 you are a colonel; your sash — I am not on to — and 
 your braid says you are a drum major. We'll have 
 to compromise this some way, won't we — eh — 
 Captain?" 
 
 The Governor gave a military salute, which Roy 
 returned awkwardly. 
 
 "Is he a captain now?" inquired Nellie. "Oh, 
 goody! Come on, Roy!" 
 
 "Wait! "exclaimed the old Carpetbagger. "My 
 daughter tells me you have been very kind to her. 
 I want to thank you. She also informs me that 
 you have an ambition to slaughter Indians." 
 
 "Yes, sir; if you please," 
 
 "Why? Indians ever do you any harm?" 
 
 "N — no, sir — never had a chance. Would if they 
 could." 
 
 Lummers stepped forward and placed another 
 paper on the Governor's desk. "Here's a matter," 
 said he, "that ought to be looked into to-day. It's 
 up for passage to-morrow." 
 
56 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Yes; all right," and then turning to Nellie, he 
 added: "I'm afraid I'll not have time to show you 
 over the state house to-day. But some other 
 time — " 
 
 ''Let me do it!" Roy exclaimed. "I know every 
 inch of it." 
 
 "Oh, will you?" cried Nellie, clapping her hands. 
 
 The Governor saluted him. "Thank you — Cap- 
 tain." 
 
 Nellie seized Roy's hand and they scampered oflf, 
 the Governor looking after them with a smile. Call- 
 ing Jim and motioning toward the private ofiEice, 
 he said: "Bring in the heavy artillery." 
 
 "Yas, sah," the negro replied, with a chuckle, 
 hastening out as if the execution of the command 
 required the utmost speed. The Governor resumed 
 the work of examining his papers. "More trouble," 
 he mused. "Coming up like dandelions after a 
 spring rain." 
 
 Jim entered with a demijohn and a glass. "Dis 
 yere is a mighty powerful dockyment," he said. 
 
 "What's that?" the Governor demanded. "How 
 do you know?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 57 
 
 "I ain't sayin' nuthin', sah." 
 
 "Well, see that you don't." 
 
 "Dat's whut I's doin', sah, jest ez fas' ez I kin — 
 dat's whut Fs yere fur." 
 
 The Governor swung the demijohn over his 
 shoulder and poured out a drink. Holding up the 
 glass he looked at it for a time. "Lummers," he 
 said, "leave it alone. It's as bright as the sunshine 
 in the corn-fields of old Illinois. But it's a treacher- 
 ous mixture — the laughter of the fool, the sigh of 
 the philosopher and the tear of woman." 
 
 Jim stepped forward and handed him a card. He 
 glanced at the name, put the demijohn on the floor 
 and the glass of whisky, untasted, on the desk. 
 "Lucy Linford — Linford," he repeated, still looking 
 at the card. "Sounds as if she might have just 
 stepped out of a dime novel — yellow back, maybe." 
 
 "I dunno, sah," said Jim. "She ain't turned 
 round yit." 
 
 "Show the lady in." 
 
CHAPTER V 
 OLD Steve's missionary 
 
 There was barely time enough to hide the glass 
 of whiskey beneath the desk and to jam the demi- 
 john into a wastebasket, covering it with paper, be- 
 fore a tall young woman was ushered into the room. 
 She came with a swish, a smile and a dash — a dainty 
 bit of newest fashion, graceful, bright and hand- 
 some. 
 
 The Governor bowed. "Won't you be seated, 
 Miss?" he said, motioning to a chair. Then, as if 
 afraid he had made a mistake, he added, looking 
 again at the card, "Or Mrs.?" 
 
 "Thank you," the caller replied, seating herself. 
 "Either one — ^just as you please." 
 
 The old Carpetbagger gave her a quick, penetrat- 
 ing glance. Then he looked at Lummers signifi- 
 cantly. "Very well," he said dryly. "If there's no 
 difference we'll make it 'Miss'." 
 
 58 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 59 
 
 She smiled and handed him a letter. "Ah," he 
 exclaimed, reading, " 'Stephen Parker.' What's old 
 Steve doing now? Oh, I see, president of the Great 
 Western Book Company. Yes. I've known old 
 Steve a good many years — used to run a second- 
 hand book store in Cincinnati; dealt largely in dam- 
 aged literature. I auctioned off a car-load of his 
 stuff once. We used to sock literature into Chi- 
 cago in job lots in those days — baled it and sold 
 it throughout the West by the ton." 
 
 She smiled at him. "As you see, Mr. Parker is 
 now in the publishing business." 
 
 "Um, yes. Well, Steve always was a hustler." 
 
 "School books," she added. 
 
 "Ah, are you selling school-books?" 
 
 "Oh, no; but I'm here on a similar mission." 
 
 "Ah, ha. Well, this ought to be a pretty good 
 missionary field." 
 
 "Yes," she admitted, throwing off a grace, which 
 the Governor caught with humorous gallantry. "I 
 understand," she went on, " that your legislature is 
 about to pass a public school law, which provides 
 
60 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 for the building of school houses in all parts of the 
 state." She paused to throw off a few more graces. 
 "And of course, school houses without school 
 books, you know, would be a foolish expenditure." 
 
 "Hm!" ejaculated the Governor, the true light 
 beginning to break upon him. "And your mission- 
 ary scheme is — " 
 
 "Books. Our firm is regarded as the leader in all 
 the advanced educational movements of the day. 
 We want to join hands with the state of Mississippi 
 and, under this law, provide all the text books 
 needed to carry forward this grand reform move- 
 ment." 
 
 "At what price?" 
 
 "Well, we have felt that if we were given the 
 exclusive right to furnish text books for all the 
 schools of this state for, say five years, perhaps 
 some — arrangement — could be made by which it 
 would not be absolutely necessary to mention prices 
 in the law at all." 
 
 "Who would fix the prices?" 
 
 "Oh, that needn't stand in the way. We could 
 do that." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 61 
 
 The Governor looked at her curiously. "We?" 
 he repeated. 
 
 "The company," 
 
 *'Oh, the company. I see. The seller could fix 
 the prices." 
 
 She slightly inclined her head. "Of course we 
 expect to pay for the right to — " 
 
 "You merely want to save the consumer all 
 trouble and worry about what he shall pay." 
 
 The caller laughed. Sitting as she was in a light 
 now unmistakably true the Governor tapped a bell 
 upon his desk. The negro appeared. "Jim," he 
 said, "another glass." Then he grabbed the demi- 
 john out of the basket and took his glass of whisky 
 from its concealment. "Even missionaries," he 
 continued, "are sometimes not averse to this sort 
 of spiritual revival." 
 
 "Oh, Governor," the woman protested, "I never 
 drink." 
 
 "Why, of course not, but — " 
 
 "Well, just a little, then— just the least bit." 
 
 He poured out a drink that would have jolted a 
 
62 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 deck-hand, looking at her with a quizzical smile. 
 She tossed off the liquor without a ruffle in her 
 countenance. The Governor, after a moment of 
 surprise at her calm ability to swallow the heroic 
 draught, followed her example, and then asked: 
 "Got a sample?" 
 
 "Oh, no more for me," she protested. 
 
 "I mean have you got a sample of your books?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," she replied, handing him a volume. 
 "Here is our fifth reader." He took the book and 
 began to examine it. "You observe," she went on, 
 "that it is splendidly bound. The type is large and 
 clear. The paper is high-class, and the book is 
 well-made, substantial, and — " 
 
 "That's bad/' the Governor broke in. "For the 
 publishers, of course. Don't wear out soon enough, 
 do they?" 
 
 Old Steve's agent laughed. The Governor con- 
 tinued to examine the book, turning the leaves as 
 if looking for something. "Ah," he exclaimed, "but 
 Where's 'Rienzi's Address to the Romans'? This 
 isn't like my old book. Where is Tt was Saturday 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 63 
 
 night and the widow of the pine cottage sat by 
 her blazing faggots with her five chattering children 
 at her side'? Remember that? What's become of 
 that touching inquiry, 'What is that, mother? The 
 lark, my child'? What have you done with 'It 
 snows! cries the school-boy'? Where's 'He never 
 smiled again'? Remember 'The bark that held 
 the Prince went down'? Where's that?" 
 
 This was a criticism which the agent had not 
 expected, though it was only the natural fault-find- 
 ing of a man who had studied old McGufifey. But 
 no great strain had been put upon her resources, 
 so she smiled as she replied: "If you examine a 
 little closer you will find other selections more 
 modern, more advanced, more beautiful." 
 
 "More beautiful!" the Governor exclaimed. 
 "What could be more beautiful than 'We must edu- 
 cate, we must educate or we must perish'?" 
 
 "That's our platform precisely," she cried. "You 
 have struck the vital issue. Only you take a senti- 
 mental view of education; we look at the matter in 
 a more — practical — light." 
 
64 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 The Governor was about to reply when Jim 
 stepped forward and handed him a card. He 
 glanced at it, seemed surprised, and then said: 
 "Show the lady in." He swept the demijohn and 
 glasses from the desk, a fact which Miss Linford 
 did not fail to heed, and turned to meet a tall, 
 attractive woman dressed in black — a woman with 
 the grace of the Old South in her walk. 
 
 "The Governor, I presume," said the lady, 
 slightly bowing. 
 
 *'Mrs. Fairburn," the Governor returned, with a 
 show of courtesy that was not lost upon the book 
 agent. "We have been neighbors for some time, I 
 believe." Mrs. Fairburn slightly inclined her head. 
 "Won't you be seated?" 
 
 "Thank you," she said, "I prefer to stand. Gov- 
 ernor, a company of your militia has been en- 
 camped upon my plantation at Gum Springs since 
 early in February. May I ask why those soldiers 
 are there?" 
 
 "Gum Springs," echoed the Governor. "Lum- 
 mers, who is at Gum Springs?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 65 
 
 "Captain Collins, sir, with Company H." 
 
 "Um — yes. What's he doing there?" 
 
 "Nothing, sir, at present." 
 
 "Pardon me," interrupted Mrs. Fairburn, with a 
 tinge of irony in her voice, "but couldn't Captain 
 Collins do that just as well somewhere else for 
 a while?" 
 
 There was something in her demeanor which 
 commanded respect and challenged admiration. 
 The Governor mentally compared the two women 
 before him. "He shall be given a chance to try. 
 Madam," he said, "if you desire it." 
 
 The caller bowed. "Thank you, not only for 
 myself, but also in behalf of my servants, my fruits 
 and my fowls. Peace has its terrors as well as 
 war." 
 
 "I'm sorry if they have bothered you," spoke 
 up the executive, "but I don't blame them. For- 
 aging is as much a part of the soldier's trade as 
 fighting." 
 
 "But the fighting is ended. Is the foraging to 
 be made perpetual?" 
 
56 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 A shadow darkened the old man's face. "Send 
 the soldiers away, Lummers," he said. 
 
 "Where, sir?" 
 
 "Anywhere — send them away." 
 
 "A few nights ago," continued Mrs. Fairburn, 
 ^'during a drunken carousal, they burned the old 
 school house at Gum Springs — a landmark dear to 
 every one in that neighborhood. To replace it, of 
 course, would be impossible; but cannot the state 
 provide a new building, however small, so that the 
 children there may receive instruction?" 
 
 Miss Linford had been an attentive listener. 
 "That's right. Governor," she interposed. "It is 
 clearly the duty of the state to replace that school 
 house." 
 
 The Governor gave her a knowing look. "Um, 
 yes," he said, sarcastically, "the- more school houses 
 the more books." Then he turned to Mrs. Fair- 
 burn. "That matter. Madam, shall be attended to 
 at once. I think the state can find five thousand 
 dollars for such use." 
 
 "I thank you, sir," said Mrs. Fairburn. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 67 
 
 "Oh, not at all." Stepping aside he said in an 
 undertone to Lummers, "Give the contract to 
 Wilson and see that there's an extra five thousand 
 in it for me." 
 
 "And there's another matter," Mrs. Fairburn 
 continued. "But I'm afraid that I shall tax your 
 patience." She stopped; the Governor bowed and, 
 thus encouraged, she proceeded: "A young man 
 named Francis has been sent to the penitentiary 
 from Gum Springs, charged with manslaughter. 
 There seems no doubt that he was set upon by 
 some drunken soldiers and acted clearly in self- 
 defense. He has had no opportunity to employ 
 counsel, but has been hurried to prison. His fam- 
 ily declares that he has not had a fair trial. Friends 
 are circulating a petition for his pardon. When it 
 reaches you may I ask that you give the matter your 
 careful attention? I know that boy, Governor, and 
 he is a fine, manly young fellow." 
 
 "I am already looking into that matter. Madam," 
 he said slowly, after a moment's hesitation. He 
 thought of the report made by Lummers — that old 
 
00 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 man Francis had scraped together but twenty-two 
 hundred dollars to purchase his son's release. He 
 was about to say something additional when Jim 
 entered and announced the arrival of Wiley Jones. 
 
 "Ah, all right," cried the Governor, evidently 
 relieved by the interruption, "Show him into my 
 private room. Ladies, you'll have to excuse me." 
 
 "My mission is ended," said Mrs. Fairburn, "and 
 I'll not trespass longer upon your time. Good 
 morning." 
 
 "Good morning. Madam." He glanced at Miss 
 Linford and hurried into his private office. The 
 book agent arose hastily. "Just a moment, please." 
 Mrs. Fairburn, at the door, turned about. "I am 
 always interested in those who are alive to edu- 
 cational needs," the lobbyist , continued, handing 
 Mrs. Fairburn a card. "I am in that line myself; 
 perhaps we might be mutually helpful in this di- 
 rection." The agent inclined her head toward the 
 Governor's office. 
 
 Mrs. Fairburn straightened up with dignity. "I 
 do not understand you," she said. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 69 
 
 "Well, it occurs to me that I might make it worth 
 your while if you would push my scheme a little." 
 
 Mrs. Fairburn recoiled as if stung. She flashed 
 one look of indignation at the book agent and ex- 
 tended the card, which she still held in her hand. 
 Miss Linford made no attempt to take it; a second 
 later it fluttered to the floor and the woman in 
 black was gone. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE OLD man's SWEAT-BOX 
 
 Governor Crance's private ofifice was not large; 
 in fact, its dimensions were rather cramped. Legis- 
 lators and lobbyists who oftenest were summoned 
 there for discipline commonly referred to it as "the 
 old man's sweat-box." Once inside that tomb- 
 like inclosure the visitor usually found himself face 
 to face with Trouble, and there was no room for 
 shifty maneuvering or evasion. It was a place for 
 rapid-fire business at close quarters. 
 
 Wiley Jones had been there before and knew 
 what to expect. He was a political degenerate, a 
 man always looking for the winning side, a schemer 
 with all the predatory instincts of the cat and the 
 moral courage of the hyena. He was gaunt, 
 grizzled, sharp-eyed and squeaky of voice, utterly 
 without principle, but with a self-consciousness 
 which he often mistook for virtue. Largely through 
 
 70 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 71 
 
 the Governor's influence he had become a quasi- 
 leader in the house of representatives and this, in 
 his own eyes, had greatly increased his importance. 
 
 When the Governor entered, he got up with a 
 show of poHteness; but immediately dropped back 
 upon the chair. He knew that the Carpetbagger 
 was gradually losing power and that so high-handed 
 a career could not last long in America. This fact 
 made him impudent and he boldly summoned de- 
 fiance to his aid. 
 
 "Willetts said you wanted to see me," he 
 snarled, giving the chief executive a sharp look. 
 
 "For just about one minute," replied the Gov- 
 ernor, taking the only other chair in the room. 
 "You are opposed to that Midland Railway bill, I 
 understand." 
 
 "Well, I— that is—" 
 
 "Are you against it?" 
 
 "I can't say that I am in favor of it." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "I don't like it." 
 
 "What are your reasons?" 
 
72 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 **WelI, I don't think it would be a good thing 
 for the state." 
 
 "Don't you?" said the Governor, calmly. "I do." 
 "We can't afford to go too far in these matters — 
 just at this time. The people have certain rights 
 which must — " 
 
 "Who made you the special guardian of the rights 
 of the people? What do you know about the wel- 
 fare of the state?" 
 
 "My duty, sir, as a legislator, requires me to — " 
 "It doesn't require you to argue with me at all. 
 You are not here for that purpose." 
 
 "Well, will you please tell me why I am here?" 
 "Yes — you are here to do as I tell you." 
 "Isn't that rather — rather peremptory, Govern- 
 or?" 
 
 "I hope so. Now, look here. I am interested in 
 that bill. I want it put through; and it's going 
 through. But I don't propose to talk about that. 
 There is another matter which is much more inter- 
 esting to you. Some of the people down in Spencer 
 county are raising a howl about the manner of your 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 73 
 
 election. Perhaps you haven't heard of that. I 
 beHeve there was some little irregularity about it, 
 wasn't there? If I remember correctly you weren't 
 seated in exactly the regular order, were you? I 
 have been thinking, in view of the protests which 
 have been coming in, that it might be as well to 
 reopen the case. What do you think?" 
 
 The legislator shifted uneasily in his chair. 
 
 *'The people, you know, have certain rights which 
 must be respected," the Governor added. 
 
 Mr. Jones wiped the perspiration from his fore- 
 head. 
 
 "If they demand this of me," insinuated the Grov- 
 ernor, "what can I do?" 
 
 The leader of the house glanced nervously about 
 the room as if seeking in vain an avenue of escape. 
 Then he sprang to his feet. 
 
 "You are trying to browbeat me!" he shouted. 
 
 "Nonsense," remarked the Carpetbagger, quietly. 
 "Do you think I would waste time like that? As 
 a legislator there are certain duties which you owe 
 the people; I understand that, of course. And as a 
 
74 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 public official there are certain duties which I owe 
 them. That's all there is of it. It's very simple. 
 If they show me that you were not legally elected, 
 or that you were irregularly seated, I shall have to 
 throw you out and declare your seat vacant. What 
 else can I do?" 
 
 "The house won't stand it, sir!" 
 
 "If you think it won't don't bet your hope of 
 salvation on that proposition." 
 
 "It might have done so once; but it won't now. 
 The situation has changed. This high-handed busi- 
 ness will be tolerated no longer. Washington 
 knows what you are doing and the Federal govern- 
 ment will — " 
 
 The Governor interrupted him with a laugh. "I 
 get news from Washington, myself, occasionally," 
 he said. "By the way," he added, "I'd like to ask 
 you a question. Have you got the idea into your 
 head that you are an honest man? Discard that- 
 fallacy. Throw it away. It isn't in you to be 
 honest. You can change the construction of many 
 things; but it isn't easy to alter the moral makeup 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 75 
 
 of a bad man. An honest man may depart from the 
 original plan and afterward return to it; but if the 
 foundation itself is rotten you can't build a safe 
 superstructure over it, no matter how you change 
 the materials." 
 
 "This is outrageous." 
 
 "Maybe; but it's true. If I thought you had an 
 honest motive in opposing that bill — or in opposing 
 any other bill — I might hesitate to influence you. 
 But you haven't. You don't know the meaning of 
 honesty." 
 
 "You are insulting, sir." 
 
 "That depends. It's a pretty hard matter to insult 
 a thief, Mr. Jones." He looked straight at the law- 
 maker and smiled to see him wince. "Sit down," 
 he commanded. "The fellow they have picked out 
 for your place would grace it, I think. He is bright, 
 shrewd and active — quick to grasp a point. It 
 wouldn't take a minute for him to see the great 
 benefits of such a measure as the Midland bill. And, 
 above all, he is loyal to his friends. That's a pretty 
 good trait in a legislator — honor, you know, even 
 among thieves." 
 
76 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 He paused and lighted a cigar. There was a 
 brief period of silence which was broken by Jones. 
 "Governor," he said, in a whining falsetto, "I've 
 never been disloyal — never. But we're all of us 
 walking over a volcano here and we can't be too 
 careful. The people are roused. They are rallying 
 around Reynolds and unless something is done to 
 stem the tide that is setting in against us, they'll 
 swamp us at the polls." 
 
 "My friend," drily remarked the Governor, as he 
 blew a cloud of tobacco smoke toward the ceiling, 
 *'it takes two things to make a vote effective. First, 
 it must be cast. Second, it must be counted. I'm 
 not afraid of a high tide." 
 
 He arose and walked slowly up and down the 
 room leaving the lawmaker to his own reflections. 
 
 "As the leader of the house," began the latter, "I 
 must — " 
 
 The Governor turned on his heel. "As the leader 
 of the house," he interrupted, "you must be pretty 
 careful to know just what you are leading. Look 
 behind you once in a while. If you don't some- 
 body may cut the string and let you walk on alone." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 77 
 
 The Carpetbagger resumed his walk. "DeHght- 
 ful weather we're having, isn't it?" he drawled, with 
 significant emphasis. "I suppose it makes you feel 
 like getting out of the house." 
 
 Mr. Jones arose. "No," he said, extending his 
 bony hand; "I never have spring fever." 
 
 The Governor put his hands behind him. 
 
 "See Willetts," he said. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 WHO DOES THE COUNTING? 
 
 "It looks as if our friend, the enemy, were going 
 to have a pretty big convention, doesn't it?" re- 
 marked Governor Crance, one morning, a couple of 
 weeks later, his question having in it more of a con- 
 clusion than an interrogation. 
 
 *'Yes, sir," responded Lummers, as he placed a 
 pile of letters before the chief executive. "The 
 Democrats have been pouring into town ever since 
 last niglit and to-day they size up more like a mob 
 than anything else." 
 
 "Um — Where's Willetts?" 
 
 "I haven't seen him this morning, sir." 
 
 "Look him up. Find him. Tell him to keep in 
 touch with those fellows to-day and see what's 
 going on." 
 
 "Yes, sir." Lummers seized his hat and started 
 for the door. 
 
 78 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 79 
 
 "Tell him I want to see him if anything turns up," 
 continued the Governor. "Have him report to me." 
 
 During the afternoon, the Carpetbagger remained 
 in the seclusion of his office, apparently unmoved 
 by the political excitement outside which kept the 
 streets congested. From time to time he heard the 
 sounds of fife and drum and the cheering of the 
 multitudes. Once, a band of marchers, as if to bid 
 open defiance to the Carpetbag regime, halted be- 
 neath his window and gave three cheers for "hon- 
 esty and home rule." 
 
 He smiled. "Not just yet," he soliloquized. "But 
 I don't blame 'em. If I lived down here I'd be out 
 there, too. Chicago's always been good enough 
 for me." 
 
 The school-book lobbyist called; but she found 
 scant courtesy. "You're in too much of a hurry," 
 he said. "I understand they are making a new 
 Governor here in town to-day. Maybe you'll have 
 to do business with him. Better wait and see." 
 
 Nellie and Roy came romping in — a ray of sun- 
 shine at the close of a murky day. "Has my com- 
 
80 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 mission got here yet?" inquired the youngster, his 
 face glowing with enthusiasm. 
 
 "Eh? How's that?" asked the Governor. "Oh— 
 from Washington. I remember. No; not quite." 
 
 A moment later, Willetts, unannounced, bolted 
 into the room. His face, usually pale and inex- 
 pressive, was flushed with excitement. Before he 
 could say a word the old man stopped him with a 
 significant gesture. 
 
 "Miss Linford," he said, "we'll have to take up 
 your matter some other time. Good afternoon. 
 Captain Fairburn, will you cover the retreat and see 
 that my daughter reaches home in safety." 
 
 Roy saluted awkwardly and offered his arm to 
 Nellie. As their footsteps died away the Carpet- 
 bagger turned to Willetts. "Sit down," he com- 
 manded. 
 
 "Governor, this thing means mischief," began 
 the ex-gambler. "It's all very well for us to ignore 
 the convention and call them kickers and sore- 
 heads, and ridicule their claims of reform; but I 
 tell you that convention to-day has been red-hot 
 from the start, and the people are behind it." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 81 
 
 "That's all right," repHed the Governor, coolly. 
 "Who's in front of it?" 
 
 "Reynolds — and if you don't look out he'll run 
 avv-ay with us. I know these people — I've lived 
 here." 
 
 "Well, I guess Reynolds is the best they could 
 do." 
 
 "He's the most popular man in the state. He 
 can poll more votes than any man in Mississippi. 
 Don't mistake that." 
 
 Major Reynolds had not sought the nomination, 
 the honor having been forced upon him, and now 
 the news was spreading throughout the city. He 
 was the son of old John Reynolds, a veteran of the 
 Mexican war, an old aristocrat who had been in 
 Congress and who was still one of the largest land- 
 owners in the state. The Major had been a gallant 
 soldier in the Confederate army. His kindness and 
 courtesy, his generosity and friendliness made him 
 a favorite among the common people. In a piece of 
 limping verse a sentimentalist had called him the 
 "flower of chivalry." While Willetts and the Gov- 
 
82 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 ernor were still discussing the situation, they heard 
 the Major's voice in the ante-room. "Here!" he 
 commanded, speaking to Jim, "take my card to the 
 Governor." 
 
 "Reynolds!" cried Willetts, springing to his feet. 
 "Look out now. Take care of yourself." 
 
 The Governor lighted a cigar. "He's only one 
 man," he said. Jim handed him a card. "Show 
 him in." 
 
 "Only one man," said Willetts, with his eye on 
 the door, "but he's a hair-trigger man. No monkey- 
 business, now. He won't stand it." 
 
 The Major stepped into the room, halted and 
 bowed stiffly. "Governor Crance?" 
 
 "How are you. Major?" was the Governor's 
 hearty greeting. "Sit down. How's everything, 
 out your way?" 
 
 The Major started at this familiarity. "Governor 
 Crance, my party has honored me with a nomina- 
 tion for Governor, and pursuing a custom time- 
 honored among our people, I have called, sir, to 
 announce my candidacy in opposition to yourself." 
 
 "Oh, that's all right. Sit down." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 83 
 
 "And to demand, sir," the Major continued, "that 
 you meet me on the stump, where you shall have full 
 opportunity to defend yourself against the charges 
 with which I shall confront you." 
 
 ''Oh, I don't think that will be necessary at all," 
 the Governor drawled. "J^^t turn the cat loose 
 whenever you get ready." 
 
 The Major began to swell with indignation. "It 
 may please you, sir, to indulge in vulgar flippancy 
 at a time like this, but it does not meet the issue." 
 
 "Meeting an issue is all right. Major; but what's 
 the use in breaking your neck trying to overtake 
 one?" 
 
 "We charge you, sir, with most damnable corrup- 
 tion in office. You have plundered and pillaged this 
 stricken state, intrusted to your keeping. You have 
 oppressed our people. You have ruled without 
 justice and without mercy. And against this rec- 
 ord, sir, you must defend yourself." 
 
 The Governor smiled. ''If I'm that sort of a 
 fellow, why should you want to meet me anywhere? 
 Even on the stump?" 
 
84 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "But I will meet you, sir, to wrest your stifling 
 clutch from the throat of this prostrate common- 
 wealth!" 
 
 "Good!" exclaimed the Governor. "You'd have 
 made a great auctioneer. It wouldn't be safe, 
 though, for me to meet you on the stump — I can 
 see that. We might get excited and I probably 
 would forget myself and auction you off. Why, 
 I'd trot you up and down in front of the people a 
 few times and knock you down to the highest 
 bidder. Have a cigar?" 
 
 The Major, livid with anger, snatched the prof- 
 fered cigar, broke it in two and throwing it upon 
 the floor, trampled upon the pieces. Then, brush- 
 ing his hands together, he said with evident effort: 
 
 "Sir, I shall not be diverted from my purpose by 
 any personal indignity which you may see fit to 
 inflict upon me. This issue is one which transcends 
 personal considerations, and I do not forget that a 
 sacred trust has been placed in my stewardship. 
 But, sir, I warn you that the day of settlement is 
 at hand. You may not meet me on the stump; but 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 85 
 
 you must face the outraged people of this sovereign 
 commonwealth at the polls. And the people do 
 the voting!" 
 
 The Governor had seated himself on a corner of 
 his desk. He looked up with a smile. 
 
 "Do they?" he asked, innocently. "Who does 
 the counting?" 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE GOVERNOR WIPES OUT A BLOT 
 
 Throughout the entire state there was a boom- 
 ing as of cannon. When Willetts first heard the 
 uproar in the Httle capital city he rushed to the 
 pubHc square, half expecting to find it besieged by 
 the enemy with field pieces. But, when he learned 
 that the people were merely firing anvils in honor 
 of the Major's nomination and knew that all the 
 commotion was caused by the blacksmith's instru- 
 ment of toil, he skulked back to his quiet scheming 
 with the legislators. He argued, and with good 
 reason, too, that there was no cause for alarm. 
 The Governor's last words to Major Reynolds had 
 settled the election; it could make no difference how 
 strong a vote the Democrats might poll. 
 
 Every night there were speeches in the streets, 
 in halls and in vacant warehouses. The ante-bel- 
 lum orator had crept forth from his seclusion and 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 81 
 
 now broke his political silence to talk again of the 
 "constitution" and the ''rights of free-born Ameri- 
 can citizens." Old men, who long ago had given 
 up all hope, acknowledged that the country might 
 yet be saved. Ministers preached politics from the 
 pulpit. In their arguments before juries the lawyers 
 spoke of "Reynolds and freedom." A candidate for 
 the legislature went about wearing a red ribbon 
 with the words — "Who does the Counting?" — 
 stamped upon it. 
 
 The Carpetbaggers went through the pretense of 
 a vigorous campaign, though they knew that it was 
 unnecessary, since the result lay with the returning 
 board, appointed by the Governor. Every member 
 of the legislature was a candidate for re-election. 
 Few of them had ever visited the communities 
 which they nominally represented. Wiley Jones 
 had come back into the fold. It was known that 
 the railway land-grant bill would pass at the proper 
 time, upon the completion of financial arrangements 
 in the East. 
 
 One day, while the Governor sat alone, in his 
 
88 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 private office, there came a bird-like tapping upon 
 the door. He arose with a frown, but his face 
 brightened when he opened the door. NelHe stood 
 there, as fresh as the dew on the magnoHa bloom. 
 
 "Why! Come in, little one," he said; "come in." 
 
 "Are you glad to see me?" 
 
 "I'm always glad to see you. Sit down here. 
 What have you been doing to-day? Making 
 speeches for me?" 
 
 He looked at her tenderly — a pure bud in a 
 thicket of briars, this beautiful image of a face 
 gone from the world, the living replica of a country 
 girl whom he had wooed and won long years ago 
 among the flowers of the prairie. 
 
 "Yes, sir, I'm always making speeches for you." 
 
 "Um, I guess you are the strongest speech that 
 could be made." 
 
 She was silent for a time and her face was 
 thoughtful. So serious a look was new for her and 
 the Governor asked if anything had gone wrong. 
 She shook her head in denial. The Governor at- 
 tempted to joke with her. She got up and put her 
 arms about his neck. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 89 
 
 "Why do they say such awful things about you?" 
 she asked, with an unwonted quiver in her voice. 
 
 "Do — do they?" His face darkened. 
 
 "Yes, even the girls. They say — they say yon 
 are a thief. And how can they do that when you are 
 so good and kind to everybody? You couldn't do 
 anything wrong, could you?" Her arms were tight 
 about his neck and her face was warm and soft 
 against his cheek, a cheek beaten by so many 
 stornis. "Could you?" 
 
 He made an inarticulate sound. He tried to 
 laugh, but his voice degenerated into a gasp. He 
 strove to harden his eye, but it was soft. "You 
 mustn't pay any attention to what you hear, little 
 one," he said. 
 
 "Oh, but I can't help it! If you don't pay any 
 attention to what you hear, what can you pay any 
 attention to? It wouldn't be so bad for a little 
 minute, but it's — all the time. Mrs. Fairburn 
 said—" 
 
 "Eh? What about her?" 
 
 "She's awfully good to me, and she — " 
 
 "What did she say?" 
 
90 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "I don't understand her at all. I was over there 
 this morning, and she said I was 'one of the sweet- 
 est little things she ever saw.' Then she put her 
 arms around me and said, 'What a pity! What a 
 pity!' What did she mean?" 
 
 The Governor gently took her arms from about 
 his neck — they were suffocating him. He walked 
 m.echanically about the room, halting at the window 
 to look out upon the flowers. 
 
 "What did she mean?" the girl asked again. 
 
 The old soldier turned about, master of himself. 
 There was infinite tenderness in his heart, but a lie 
 was on his lips. "It was her mother instinct," — he 
 said — "A pity, that you were motherless." 
 
 Jim came in with a card. It bore the name "Rev, 
 Jacob Williams." The Governor glanced at it and 
 hesitated. "Well," he finally said, "let him come 
 in." 
 
 An old man entered the room. One glance of the 
 Governor's shrewd eye established his honesty. 
 
 "Sit down, Mr. Williams. What can I do for 
 you?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 91 
 
 "You can avenge a great wrong," the old man 
 replied, 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "It involves the telling of a brief story, sir. But 
 it shall be very brief. Not far from here there is 
 a gambling house, and — " 
 
 "They are all over town," the Governor inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 "I know it, sir; but it is of this especial one at 
 103 Mason Street, that I am here to speak. Into 
 this house, for a long time, there has gone almost 
 daily an old man to play what they call 'roulette.' 
 He has always lost. Nearly every time he has 
 stayed till a little boj- came to lead him away. 
 It was a pitiful sight. It was a joke among 
 the wretches, who used to say: 'He'll stay till 
 his policeman comes.' Yesterday he began to 
 win. He had little money at the start, but 
 soon ran the amount up to seventy-five dol- 
 lars. Then, to the surprise of every one, he 
 quit and demanded the cash he had won. They 
 gave it to him, of course, but were loth to see him 
 
92 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 leave. 'Give us a game,' they insisted. He turned 
 upon them. 'Wolves!' he said, 'you have seen that 
 little fellow come day after day and lead me away 
 from here. This money' — and he shook it at them 
 — 'this money is to pay for his funeral.' He turned 
 away and the brutes jeered him." The clergyman 
 paused. 'T have come, sir," he added, softly, "to 
 ask that this hell may be closed." 
 
 Now the Governor's eye was hard. He looked 
 at the tears on his daughter's cheek. He touched 
 a bell. "Jim," he said, "if Mr. Willetts is anywhere 
 about, tell him to come here." 
 
 "He's out dar now, sah." 
 
 The Governor said nothing, walking up and down 
 the room till Willetts entered. Then he spoke in a 
 voice strangely low for him: "Go to the chief of 
 police," he said, "and tell him to close up 103 
 Mason Street. Not for a day, but for all time — wipe 
 it out. Tell him to give the operators of the place 
 two hours to get out of town. You don't need an 
 order. Go." 
 
 "But, Governor!" cried Willetts, "ain't you a little 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 93 
 
 too fast in this matter? Just let me see you a 
 moment." He drew the Governor aside. "That 
 house," he said, confidentially, "is contributing 
 more to our campaign fund than any institution in 
 the city. We can't afiford to close it. These men 
 are perfectly 'square.' What's the charge against 
 them?" 
 
 The Carpetbagger looked at his daughter. 
 
 "There isn't any," he said, 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE governor's SUNDAY 
 
 All night a gentle rain had fallen; but the clouds 
 floated away with the coming of dawn and the sun 
 shone bright upon an ideal Sunday morning. 
 Roses breathed their perfumed secrets upon the 
 soft air; the local poet dreamed, and the music of 
 the bells was sweet. The pathways leading to the 
 churches were ablaze with ribbons, for the dammed- 
 up finery, held back by the war, had broken loose 
 and flooded society. 
 
 Governor Crance sat upon the broad veranda 
 enjoying a cigar, while a steady stream of church- 
 goers flowed past him. No one noticed him. 
 Every eye was averted, "The forbidden earth," 
 he mused, as he glanced about the spacious 
 grounds, and his memory brought back the prosy 
 sermons of long ago in the little white church of 
 an Illinois hamlet. 
 
 94 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 95 
 
 "Aren't you going to church?" chimed a girlish 
 treble, as NelHe came bounding out of the house. 
 
 "To church?" echoed the Carpetbagger, with a 
 peculiar intonation in his voice. "No." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "I — I — never go to church down here." 
 
 "What! Never go to church at all?" 
 
 The Governor shook his head. "The war taught 
 both sides how to hate," he said. "Time alone can 
 teach forgiveness." 
 
 "Well, the war ended two years ago," she per- 
 sisted. 
 
 "The war did — the warfare didn't. We've quit 
 shooting each other, it's true, but in a thousand 
 ways the fighting is still going on, hotter than 
 ever." 
 
 "But surely not on Sunday, and in the church." 
 
 "Everywhere — all the time. If I were to attend 
 a church service to-day," he continued, "I should 
 not hear the Gospel preached ; I should merely hear 
 myself abused. So I don't go." 
 
 Nellie's blue eyes filled with tears. For a few 
 
96 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 minutes she stood motionless ; then she slowly went 
 back into the house. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she said. 
 
 There was a queer lump in the Governor's throat. 
 He sprang up as if to follow his daughter, stopped 
 at the door, and after a little indecision, turned 
 squarely about and walked down into the garden. 
 
 To and fro among the magnolias he paced, how 
 long he did not know. He heard voices and the 
 laughter of children and knew that the people were 
 returning from church ; but this did not interrupt his 
 meditation. The greedy sun, now high in the 
 heavens, had stolen every dewy jewel from leaf and 
 flower and the grass was dry. He threw himself 
 down at full length, closed his eyes and tried to shut 
 out the world. He v/as aroused by a fluttering 
 among the green leaves; a bird was building her 
 nest in the branches above him and he watched 
 her curiously. "She never goes wrong," he ex- 
 claimed, half aloud, "and yet she has only instinct 
 to guide her. Mistakes are man's monopoly," 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE HIGH-HEADED WOMAN 
 
 Walking slowly back to the house, Governor 
 Crance glanced toward the adjoining garden of Mrs. 
 Fairburn and was surprised to see his fair neigh- 
 bor engaged in gathering an armful of roses. He 
 stopped. Unconsciously he raised his hat and did 
 not replace it. He wondered if she would look at 
 him ; but she did not. Presently he grew bolder and 
 cleared his throat to speak ; but he found no oppor- 
 tunity to do so. Uncovered he stood there and 
 looked at her, as one might gaze upon a rare paint- 
 ing by an old master. How queenly she looked 
 amid the flowers! For many minutes he watcKed 
 her in silence; then he saw her turn and saunter 
 back toward the stone house among the trees. As 
 she reached the veranda she threw down the roses 
 and, as if urged by a sudden impulse, turned about 
 deliberately and looked full upon him. He made 
 
 97 
 
98 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 no sign, but a strange trembling seized him as he 
 saw her again walking toward him. 
 
 "Governor," she said, coming close to the divid- 
 ing wall, "I want to thank you for sending your 
 soldiers away from my plantation at Gum Springs." 
 
 "You needn't," he replied, with an effort to ap- 
 pear unconcerned. "I had to keep them some- 
 where, it didn't matter much where. I'm glad to 
 have been of service to you." 
 
 Mrs. Fairburn bowed. "Besides," he hastily 
 added, as he saw her turn to leave, "1 promised 
 you I would." 
 
 Mrs. Fairburn stopped. "I am glad you have 
 redeemed one promise," she said, with an emphasis 
 upon the word "one", which the Carpetbagger did 
 not fail to notice. 
 
 "Why 'one'?" he asked. 
 
 "You promised me you would look into the case 
 of that Francis boy." Mrs. Fairburn replied, quietly. 
 "Have you done so?" 
 
 The Governor winced. "I'm going to," he said, 
 earnestly. "I give you my word — I will." 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 99 
 
 "But you don't believe me, do you?" 
 
 "1 shall be pleased to give you full credit for 
 every creditable thing you do." 
 
 "Thank you," exclaimed the Carpetbagger, iron- 
 ically, "but I am not certain that I ever do any- 
 thing of that sort." 
 
 "You might." 
 
 "What good would it do?" 
 
 "It would do you good. No kindly act is ever 
 lost, no matter whether the world knows it or not." 
 
 "That's what they used to say to me in Sunday 
 school a good many years ago." 
 
 "You haven't heard it there lately, have you?" 
 
 "No. Why should I go to church? To hear 
 myself abused? They all do it." 
 
 "Not all. I heard a fine sermon this morning in 
 which you figured as a central character, and you 
 were not abused, either." 
 
 "Indeed? Then the millennium must be at hand. 
 Who did it?" 
 
 "Dr. WilHams. He told us the result of his inter- 
 
100 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 cession v/ith you to close a certain gambling house 
 that had ruined his brother's home." 
 
 "His brotherJJ' 
 
 "Yes. Didn't you know?" 
 
 "No; but it would have made no difference. 
 What was the text?" 
 
 " 'Can there any good thing come out of Naza- 
 reth'?" 
 
 "Um! What do you think about that question?" 
 
 "It was answered eighteen hundred years ago." 
 
 Pier voice was low and as sweet as the music of 
 a mountain brook. The Governor was deeply 
 moved and his face betrayed the emotion he felt. 
 Mrs. Fairburn was quick to see the effect of her 
 words and deemed it a good time to drive home 
 another truth. 
 
 "I suppose you will have work now for all your 
 soldiers," she said. "The election is almost here." 
 
 "Why do you think that?" asked the Governor, 
 abruptly. She took from her hair a bright red rib- 
 bon and held it up. "Can you read this?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "Not from this distance," he replied. "But I can 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 101 
 
 guess what there is on it. 'Who does the count- 
 ing?' " 
 
 "They say you intend to surround every voting 
 place with a corporal's guard." 
 
 "Do they? How do they know?" 
 
 "You don't deny it. Governor, would not such 
 a thing be a monstrous outrage upon our people?' 
 
 "The ballot boxes must be protected against 
 rioting and disorder." 
 
 "If the result is already known, why hold any 
 election at all? If you decide the election, why 
 should anyone else take the trouble to vote? Should 
 not the majority rule?" 
 
 There was an earnestness in her voice that the 
 Carpetbagger did not like. He laughed, uneasil}'. 
 "Well, I don't know about that," he said, with a 
 forced attempt at pleasantry. "If the majority 
 always ruled, the mosquitoes would govern New 
 Jersey." 
 
 In spite of her seriousness the widow laughed, 
 and the Governor, seeing that her reserve had been 
 broken, followed up his advantage. The spirit of 
 
102 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 the peaceful, restful sabbath day, he remarked, 
 could not have been better exemplified than by a 
 negro whom he had seen down the street, lying on 
 a box, his face to the sun, his eyes closed, and an 
 indolent tune oozing from his lips. Mrs. Fair- 
 burn laughed at his description of the fellow — the 
 conceit of an indolent tune oozing from the negro's 
 lips was odd. 
 
 "You seem to like flowers," he added, brusquely. 
 
 "I am very fond of them," answered Mrs. Fair- 
 burn. "Aren't you?" 
 
 "They are about the only things that are left me 
 now to love," he said, "except Nellie — God bless 
 her — and she's a flower." 
 
 "She's a charming girl," remarked the widow, 
 waimly. "You ought to be proud of her. I've 
 been gathering a few roses to decorate the house a 
 little. To-morrow is Roy's birthday." 
 
 "He's a fine boy," said the Governor. "You 
 ought to be proud of him." 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 A SIGH AND A DRINK 
 
 A woman was coming up the street, a woman 
 gay with ribbons and a gaudy parasol. Mrs. Fair- 
 burn was first to notice the newcomer's approach 
 and made hasty preparations to retire from sight. 
 To be seen talking with the arch enemy of the 
 state would have been to compromise herself in the 
 eyes of the community and she took instant flight. 
 The Governor watched her, hurrying along the 
 path leading to her house, and wondered if she 
 would look back; but she did not and he turned 
 away to his own garden where Nellie and Roy 
 were laughing among the trees. The "soldier" was 
 in a hammock and the girl was trying to shake him 
 out The Carpetbagger started toward them, but 
 just then some one called his name. A woman 
 stood at the front gate, and he hastened toward 
 her; but there soon came a halting catch in his walk 
 
 103 
 
104 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 for he recognized Lucy Linford, the school-book 
 lobbyist. She had called to see him at the state- 
 house several times since her first visit. Once in a 
 laughing way he had referred to her as a "delight- 
 ful temptation," and she had tried to blush, but 
 failed. She was not of the sort that blushes success- 
 fully. But she was attractive and, as Willetts said, 
 "for dash could give any of them cards and spades." 
 
 *'I was just passing, Goyernor, and happened to 
 see you in the yard." 
 
 "Yes. Won't you — won't you come in?" 
 
 "For a little minute, thank you. The sun is get- 
 ting warm. Let us sit on the veranda." 
 
 She sat in a rocking chair and the Governor 
 walked up and down, with an occasional glance over 
 toward the stone house. Miss Linford was an illu- 
 mination of smiles and bubbled with the music of 
 laughter. He was half afraid of her, though he 
 found a sort of tingling pleasure in his fear; but 
 whenever he looked over toward the widow's house 
 there came a graceful picture in his mind. Other 
 women might be more beautiful, though he was 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 105 
 
 prepared to doubt it, but none could be so calm 
 and peace-inspiring. 
 
 "Governor, have you — pardon me for mentioning 
 it now — but have you thought any further of our 
 school-book bill? I am so anxious to have some- 
 thing done." 
 
 "Well, it hasn't been keeping me awake at night," 
 he replied, turning and walking toward her, only 
 to pass and turn again. 
 
 "Oh, I wouldn't want it to do that — like a bad 
 conscience. You must remember, however, that 
 you gave me a good deal of encouragement the last 
 time I had a talk with you." 
 
 The Governor was walking toward her again. 
 "I always encourage every woman that talks with 
 me," he said. 
 
 "Really?" 
 
 He saw her smiles and heard her musical laughter 
 as he halted in front of her. He felt that she was 
 "playing him" — he could not help but know it, but 
 he liked it, as most men do. Some men, getting 
 along in life, are never so happy as when a woman 
 
106 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 is making- a fool of them. And history proves that 
 a statesman is as easy to fool as a minor. This 
 woman had many a grace which she threw off with 
 her fan. She had a way of spreading it before her 
 face and peeping over it. Willetts was right. She 
 could "give the most of them cards and spades." 
 
 "I received a letter from Mr. Parker the other 
 day," she said; "and he spoke glowingly of you." 
 
 "Did, eh? Well, Steve can put it on when he 
 wants to. He was a plasterer, I believe, before he 
 began to deal in damaged literature." 
 
 "He was very much in hopes that we might get 
 our bill through. It would mean so much to us 
 all." 
 
 "Um — yes." 
 
 "And in my answer to his letter I should like so 
 much to send him encouraging news." She peeped 
 at him over her fan, her dark eyes full of the light 
 of admiration for the man standing before her. She 
 wore loose sleeves and he looked at her shapely arm, 
 adroitly exposed for inspection. "What shall I tell 
 him, Governor?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 107 
 
 "Who, old Steve?" The Governor was fencing 
 with himself to gain time. "Why, er — tell him I'm 
 still his friend." 
 
 "Is that all?" 
 
 "Isn't that enough?" 
 
 "I should like to tell him that our measure will 
 surely carry. May I tell him that?" 
 
 "Yes — you may, but you'd better not. We'll have 
 to feel the pulse of the House. The rascals aren't as 
 — as tractable as they might be, nowadays." 
 
 "Mr. Wiley Jones will not oppose it. He's one 
 of the most influential members and he's devoted to 
 you." 
 
 "Um, yes, very devoted. Devotion is the heavi- 
 est part of Brother W^iley's character." 
 
 "He's very friendly, and he seems to be so con- 
 scientious. Don't you think so?" 
 
 The Governor laughed. Then he resumed his 
 walk up and down the veranda. Presently he halted 
 and stood looking over into the widow's yard, ab- 
 stractedly. The woman in the rocking-chair knew 
 what that meant just as well as if he had told her. 
 
108 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 She bubbled with occasional merriment, just the 
 same, and when he turned was bright with a smile. 
 But how she hated the Fairburn widow! She had 
 no reason to believe that the widow was opposed to 
 her bill, except the intuition that flames out of a 
 woman's instinct, which, after all, may be the 
 strongest of reasons. 
 
 "Governor," said Miss Linford, "I'll not detain 
 you any longer." 
 
 "Oh, you are not detaining me. I'm at — at 
 home, you know." 
 
 They heard Nellie and Roy laughing. Miss Lin- 
 ford got up to go but stayed to remark that she 
 had never seen a more charming girl than the Gov- 
 ernor's daughter. She was so fresh, so full of inno- 
 cent life. And she was as unconscious of her 
 beauty as an oil painting. Her mother must have 
 been a handsome woman. She had her father's 
 eyes and her mother's yellow hair, evidently. The 
 Governor hemmed, hawed and winked under this 
 flattery, and, knowing that it was flattery, was 
 Adam enough to like it. She finally swung herself 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 109 
 
 out of the gate, her bright colors leaving a rainbow 
 glow in the air and the Carpetbagger, heaving a 
 sigh of relief, went into the house and took a drink. 
 Down the street. Old Steve's agent met Willetts, ? 
 sauntering along with a small yellow cane. He 
 raised his hat, assured her of the pleasant surprise 
 afforded him and turned to walk with her. 
 "I've just left the Governor," she said. 
 Willctts smiled, "I suppose he promised to put 
 your bill through,'' he remarked. 
 
 *'No, but I think he will do it, just the same." 
 "He won't," said Willetts, laconically. "Your 
 school-book bill is laid out. You're on a dead 
 card and you may as well throw up the sponge. I 
 know what I am talking about." 
 
 "Then what's the use of my staying here?" 
 "I'll tell you. Let's turn down this way where 
 we'll be alone." 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 HE MEETS A BULLET 
 
 On the following Tuesday the Midland Railway 
 bill passed the Senate, having on Monday run 
 through the smooth channels of the House, and was 
 now ready for the Governor's name to make it a 
 law. Financial arrangements had been perfected 
 in the East and the money was sure. Shor:ly after 
 the bill passed the Senate, Wiley Jones called on 
 Willetts. The lobbyist lived in a suite of rooms not 
 far from the state house. A negro was shaving him 
 when Jones knocked at the door. 
 
 "See who it is, Zeb," said Willetts. He never 
 called out "come in!" His door was always locked. 
 The negro admitted Jones without asking a ques- 
 tion, having done so time and again, and the legis- 
 lator strode into the room. 
 
 "Willetts," said he, "I'd like to see you alone." 
 
 "Yes, just as soon as he gets through with me; 
 
 110 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 111 
 
 won't take long. Everything seems to be all right, 
 doesn't it?" 
 
 "I don't know," growled Jones, sitting down. 
 
 The negro's work was soon done. As he tip-toed 
 out of the room, Willetts locked the door and turned 
 to Jones, who, without preliminary words, asked 
 when he was to get his money. 
 
 "Why, just as soon as I get mine." 
 
 "And when will that be?" 
 
 "The company's agent will pay over the cash just 
 as soon as the bill is signed." 
 
 "Suppose it is never signed?" 
 
 "Nonsense! That's fixed. You needn't worry 
 about the old man." 
 
 "Well, I'm doing business with you, not with 
 him. Nothing was said about waiting for his signa- 
 ture. Our deal called for the cash when the bill was 
 passed — ten thousand, spot cash. I've done my 
 work and put the bill through. Now I want the 
 money." 
 
 "Don't be in a rush. This thing is safe enough. 
 The bill, as it stands, isn't worth fifteen cents and it 
 
112 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 is unreasonable to expect them to pay us anything 
 before we deliver the goods." 
 
 "I've delivered mine." 
 
 "Well, you'll get your money when the rest of us 
 do." 
 
 "What if somebody were to put a ball through 
 the Governor to-night?" 
 
 "Oh, if the sky ever falls," rejoined Willetts, sar- 
 castically, "we'll all of us have a fine time catching 
 larks." 
 
 "All right," persisted Jones, "put it the other 
 way; where would I be if you were accidentally to 
 meet a bullet going in the opposite direction?" 
 
 "You'd be 'out' ten thousand, I guess. But 
 what's the use of talking? You are as likely to run 
 against a bullet as I am." 
 
 "And if I did, you'd simply pocket the money I 
 have earned and no one ever would be the wiser 
 for it. I want my pay and I don't propose to take 
 any chances waiting for it, either. The legislature 
 is on its last legs and the whole Carpetbag govern- 
 ment is liable to explode any day. Have you seen 
 the old man since the bill passed the Senate?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 113 
 
 "Of course not; I haven't had time. But I saw 
 him yesterday after it passed the House." 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 "Oh, he didn't say much of anything. It wasn't 
 a surprise to him; he expected it." 
 
 Willetts knew that the Governor was wavering, 
 but he did not care to tell Jones. It was his habit 
 to tell just as much as was necessary and no more. 
 He could understand how a man might be coerced 
 into softness, but why he should sink into it of his 
 own accord was beyond his reckoning. 
 
 Jones sat for a time in deep thought. He was 
 not afraid that the Governor would not sign the 
 bill ; he was not really uneasy as to his ten thousand 
 dollars; but he was in a mood of self-condemnation 
 for having accepted so small a part of the purchase 
 money. 
 
 "Willetts," he said, "I've been too easy with you 
 fellows." 
 
 "Been too what? I don't know what you mean." 
 
 "I sold out too cheap. I ought to get twenty -five 
 thousand at least." 
 
114 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Well, I like to see a man value his services, but 
 sometimes there's danger of going just a trifle too 
 far." 
 
 "Too far! You couldn't have done anything 
 without me. I could have killed the thing if I'd 
 wanted to." 
 
 Willetts laughed. "You would have killed your- 
 self." 
 
 "That might be, but I could have let the life- 
 blood out of that bill. And I ought to have more 
 money." 
 
 "You agreed to take a certain amount." 
 
 "I know it; but you haven't paid me a cent yet. 
 Let me tell you something. I'm going to have 
 what is due me or you'll hear something drop. The 
 story of that bill would make a good campaign 
 speech. I could flop over to the other side just 
 about now and make my peace for all time to come; 
 and I can almost catch sight of the gubernatorial 
 chair, down at the end of such a course. That's 
 all." He strode out of the room and Willetts sat 
 down to think. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 115 
 
 Jones went to the House, listened for a time to 
 the reading of a dull report, paired off with a man 
 who lived near him, but who represented a county 
 on the other side of the state, then mounted his 
 horse and rode off down into the country. His 
 house was some distance from the main road, and 
 to reach it he had to ride round the plantation of 
 Old John Reynolds. This was a waste of time for 
 a busy legislator, so he had dropped into the habit 
 of throwing down the old planter's fences and rid- 
 ing through his fields. Reynolds had his just preju- 
 dices against all members of the Carpetbag legisla- 
 ture; moreover his son was a home candidate for 
 Governor. He was a good-natured man and did 
 not at first let his temper get the better of him; 
 but when the trespasser continued to throw down 
 his fences, he grew furious. On the present occa- 
 sion Jones was about mid-way of a field when the 
 old man hailed him. The law-maker halted un- 
 willingly and listened absent-mindedly to a warm 
 rebuke. This made the old man more furious and 
 he launched forth a threat. "Sir," said he, "if you 
 
116 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 throw down my fence again and ride through my 
 fields, I will shoot you." Jones was as corrupt a 
 man as could be found, but he was not afraid, 
 physically. Morally, of course, he was a coward; 
 all corrupt men are. He grinned a defiance at the 
 old planter and rode on. A few days later, he was 
 not present at roll-call; which excited no comment, 
 as negligence seemed part of the Carpetbag legisla- 
 tor's duty. Later, there was a commotion in the 
 House when news was brought that Representative 
 Jones had been found dead, near a gap in Old Man 
 Reynolds' fence. He had been shot. It was known 
 that Reynolds had threatened to shoot him. It 
 looked like a clear case. A warrant was issued 
 for the arrest of John Reynolds; a coroner's jury 
 gave a verdict against him; he was taken before a 
 justice of the peace for preliminary hearing and 
 was bound over without bail to await the action of 
 the grand jury and the criminal court. And his old 
 wife went to jail with him. 
 
 Major Reynolds was out in the country, cam- 
 paigning, when he heard the news of his father's 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 117 
 
 arrest. He learned also, that his mother was in 
 jail; and there was but one conclusion — that the 
 outrage had been engineered by Governor Crance, 
 to blacken the candidacy of the people's idol. The 
 Major was addressing a meeting when a man came 
 upon the stand and whispered to him. He stood 
 for a moment as if paralyzed, then he quietly said: 
 "My good people, circumstances have called me 
 back to the city." Without another word he rushed 
 forth, sprang upon a horse and galloped off. A 
 trusted lieutenant, a game man. Captain Pointer, 
 rode beside him. 
 
 "We can't get there before to-night," said the 
 Captain. 
 
 "No," the Major replied, "but we will get there." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 "I am going to kill him." 
 
 "Of course, but how? It won't do to shoot him 
 down. You must make him fight — if you can." 
 
 "Yes, if I can; and if I can't—" 
 
 They galloped on in silence. At a farm-house 
 they halted to change horses. The farmer was busy 
 
118 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 with his crops and said that he didn't see how he 
 could accommodate the Major. He needed his 
 horses for work. Why not rest a while? The 
 Major explained that he was in a great hurry. The 
 farmer didn't see the need of such a rush. The 
 town would stay where it was, he said, and the 
 campaign would keep. He was the Major's sup- 
 porter, he added, and would do anything in reason 
 for him — even make speeches for him ; but he could 
 not give up his horses at such a time — unless the 
 case was very urgent. The Major looked at him. 
 *T am going to town," he said, "to kill the scoun- 
 drel that calls himself the Governor of this state." 
 The farmer turned and shouted to one of his men: 
 "Sam, catch the black horse and the roan as quick 
 as you can." 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WHO RAISED THE DEVIL; 
 
 Willetts was in the House when the news of the 
 Jones murder was received. Just at that moment 
 he caught sight of Miss Linford in the lobby and 
 hastened to her. They talked for a time, during 
 the excitement, and discussed the probable effect 
 of the old planter's arrest upon his son's campaign. 
 
 "I must go over to the preliminary hearing," 
 said the gambler. 'T want to see how the thing 
 gof-,." 
 
 "Do you really think that the old man killed 
 him?" she asked. 
 
 "No doubt of it. Wiley told me not long ago 
 that his life had been threatened, and I warned 
 him; but he was always headstrong when there 
 wasn't any need to be." They had walked out and 
 were going down the steps. "By the way," said he, 
 "we must see the Governor. Go with me up to 
 his house to-night. I'll need you." 
 
 119 
 
120 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 That night they called at the executive mansion. 
 Jim admitted them to the reception room. "You'll 
 hab t' wait here a minute," said the darkey. "De 
 Gub'nor is up sta'rs in de liberry." He went 
 slowly up the broad stairway. 
 
 "Now remember," said Willetts, "if you get a 
 chance, nail him. Never let him get away — you 
 can do it." 
 
 Lucy Linford looked at him. There were no 
 smiles for him. With him she was natural, sober 
 — and a woman's nature is usually sober. Her 
 frivolity is nearly always a pretense. She may rave 
 over foolish things, but at heart she is practical. 
 She looked at him and replied: "All right, but 
 keep out of my way. Give me a chance." 
 
 "Hit hard," Willetts went . on. "You can do 
 more with him than 1 could. He's cooling toward 
 me." 
 
 She gave him a chilly smile to illustrate her point. 
 *'I think the weather has been changing slightly 
 for both of us." 
 
 Willetts gave his shoulders a shrug of impatience. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 121 
 
 "No more of 'both of us'. You are on a dead card 
 with your scheme. We've got to pull together. 
 Your school-book bill is laid out and you can't 
 resurrect it. All the Midland bill needs now is 
 his name — make him stick it on." 
 
 "And if I land him?" She tried to give him a 
 sweet and innocent look. 
 
 "Three hundred thousand — Europe," said Wil- 
 letts. 
 
 "And Lummers?" she asked. "What about 
 him?" 
 
 Willetts snififed. "A two-spot. He's been of no 
 use to us, anyway. We'll throw him in the deck." 
 The gambler stepped close to her. "See here," he 
 said, pointing to a charm which weighed down his 
 watch chain — a large, golden horseshoe set with 
 diamonds. "I sat in a game with a couple of horse- 
 men last night and cleaned them out. One of them 
 staked his watchcharm and I won it. Do you know 
 what this horseshoe signifies? It means good luck. 
 Understand? Good luck for you and me, as long 
 as we pull together." 
 
122 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 Jim came down the stairway. "De Gub'nor will 
 be down in a minute, sah." He stepped out upon 
 the pillared veranda, and they heard him slowly 
 pacing up and down, like a sentinel. 
 
 "This thing's got to be rushed," said Willetts. 
 "It's getting squally around here. See?" he added, 
 nodding toward Jim, "that nigger is on guard at 
 the state house all day and is up here at night. The 
 old man can't trust any one else. Suppose some- 
 body should come in here and blow his head off! 
 Where would our bill be? And there it is, ready 
 to be signed. Make him do it." He swore and 
 brought his hand down hard upon a table. "Why 
 is he hanging back now?" 
 
 She gave a little laugh, as cold as the trickling 
 of ice water. "Don't you know? Are all men as 
 blind as bats? I saw it the first day I met the 
 Governor — ^just the moment she came into the 
 office." 
 
 "Some reform notion, I suppose," Willetts 
 grunted. "He never acted this way before." 
 
 "It's worse than that," she said. "It's the 
 widow." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 123 
 
 "What, Mrs. Fairburn!" Willetts exclaimed in a 
 loud whisper, 
 
 "Why, of course. You remember who raised the 
 devil in the Garden of Eden, don't you?" 
 
 Willetts looked at her. "Well, ain't you a 
 woman? Can't you do the same?" 
 
 "Maybe — but if I did I should want a pretty 
 big bite of the apple." 
 
 "And you shall have it. Look out!" 
 
 The Governor came slowly down the stairway. 
 His face was serious. He looked troubled; but 
 greeted them pleasantly. Lucy smiled, not with 
 chilliness now, but with sweetness and warmth. 
 "Good evening, Governor. I hope you are well." 
 
 Willetts boldly struck out: "Well, everything 
 seems to have been coming our way to-day." he 
 remarked airily. 
 
 The Governor had begun to walk up and down 
 the room, his hands behind him. "I don't know 
 about that," he said. "I don't like it — it's bad." 
 
 Willetts spoke up quickly. "Murder always is 
 bad. But who's to blame for it? We're not. And 
 
124 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 if the charge sticks, you are Governor again, all 
 right." 
 
 "But it looks like a trumped-up case," said the 
 Governor, still walking to and fro. "I don't know 
 that there was evidence to warrant the old man's 
 arrest, to say nothing of sending him to jail." 
 
 Willetts took issue with him. "Excuse me. Gov- 
 ernor, but that's where you are wrong. There's 
 no doubt about this thing. Why, Old Man Rey- 
 nolds had threatened to kill Jones — and for pre- 
 cisely the same cause. It's a clear case, and if the 
 courts stand by us, it'll knock his son's canvass 
 against you higher than a kite." 
 
 The Governor halted and confronted him. "How 
 do you know it's a clear case?" 
 
 "Why, I was at the preliminary hearing before 
 the justice of the peace. It seems that Wiley Jones 
 had been in the habit of riding through Old Man 
 Reynolds' plantation, and several times he threw 
 down the fences and left them for some one else 
 to put up. The old man, you know, was inclined 
 to be hot-headed, so he waited for Wiley. 'Here,' 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 125 
 
 he said, 'don't you do that again or there'll be 
 trouble,' but the next day the fences were down. 
 Then the old man went after Wiley, 'If you go 
 over my fields again, whether you throw down the 
 fences or not,' he said, 'I'll put a hole through you.' 
 Well, you know the rest. Wiley was seen riding 
 toward the plantation again this morning. Shortly 
 afterward his horse came home. Later they found 
 Wiley — bullet hole in his head. Fences thrown 
 down again. Coroner's jury said, 'Old Man Rey- 
 nolds.' Justice of the peace says, 'Old J\Ian Rey- 
 nolds.' Everybody says, 'Old Man Reynolds.' It's 
 all one way." 
 
 "Yes," said the Governor, walking up and down 
 the room, "but it was all so hurried. The old man 
 couldn't get away. It looks bad. And I under- 
 stand that his poor old wife, refusing to be sepa- 
 rated from him, has actually gone to the jail with 
 him." 
 
 Willetts was ready with what he thought a clinch- 
 ing argument. "But, Governor, we can't help the 
 foolishness of a silly old woman." 
 
126 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 The Governor wheeled about. "Foolishness! 
 Sir, I call it a most beautiful picture of womanly 
 devotion." 
 
 The Governor had shown so strongly the spirit 
 of condemnation that Willetts did not care to risk 
 an argument of the case, so he said meekly: "Yes, 
 that's all right; but what could they do? She 
 would go." 
 
 "She must be got out of there. I'll send for 
 her — I'll send for both of them. I want to hear 
 his story. Here." 
 
 The Governor took out a note book, wrote upon 
 a leaf, tore it out, folded it, handed it to Willetts 
 and said: "Take this to the sheriff and have them 
 brought here." 
 
 Willetts began to hem and haw. "Governor, I'm 
 not on the best of terms with the sheriiif just now. 
 We had a little difference, and " 
 
 "Take it to Lummers, then. Tell him to look 
 after it at once." 
 
 Willetts bowed and started toward the door, and 
 as he passed Lucy, he whispered: "Now." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 127 
 
 "Governor," she began, "I hoped to find you in 
 a pleasant frame of mind to-night. But I suppose 
 you are bothered a great deal, aren't you?" 
 
 They had sat down on a divan, she beaming 
 sweetly upon him. "Yes," he said, "by little things 
 — trifles — flies! A big thing, it would be dififerent. 
 You can choke a dog till its eyes pop out, but you 
 can't choke a fly. I guess you're never bothered 
 that way. There are no flies on you." 
 
 Her smile was radiant. She liked him best when 
 he was inclined to be humorous, for then she felt 
 her influence over him. "Now you are yourself. 
 That's better — I like you now." She moved closer 
 to him, with a disposition to cuddle up against him. 
 
 "Do you? How much?" He looked upon the 
 freshness of her face, felt the dazzle of her smile. 
 Surely she was an engaging woman — and the Gov- 
 ernor was not an anchorite. 
 
 "More than you will ever know, or any one else 
 will believe," she said, cuddling closer to him. 
 
 "But how much is that?" 
 
 "I would rather show you than to tell you. But 
 
128 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 seriously, Governor, would you do me a favor — a 
 great favor — if you could do it just as well as not?" 
 
 "I don't know; I might — they say I'm about 
 mean enough for anything, you know. But that 
 school-book business is " 
 
 "Oh, it isn't that." 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "No. The state of Mississippi won't indorse 
 your old reader's platform — 'we must educate, we 
 must educate or we must perish'." 
 
 "No books? What's up now?" 
 
 "I want your name." 
 
 The Governor prankishly shrank from her. "Oh, 
 this is so sudden." 
 
 "Calm your fluttering heart," she laughed. "I 
 want you officially." 
 
 "Oh, only officially. I don't see anything very 
 flattering in that." 
 
 "Yes, officially — at present." 
 
 "And by and by?" 
 
 "We'll see about that. But, now, the favor — the 
 Midland Railway bill." 
 
 "Ah, switched, have you? What's that for?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 129 
 
 "Well," she said, "I think it would be a good 
 thing " 
 
 "For the state, of course," he interrupted. "Well, 
 maybe you're right. As an employer I guess the 
 state will pay you better than old Steve's book 
 concern. Mississippi always paid me everything 
 that was coming to me — and most everything has 
 been coming." 
 
 "Well, why not? The state doesn't pay its public 
 servants what they really deserve." 
 
 "Well, no; some of us, I guess, never get what 
 we really deserve." 
 
 She laughed, pleased that he was still in a humor- 
 ous mood. "But why shouldn't the state have 
 what it d-eserves? It wants this Midland railroad. 
 Why do you delay signing the bill?" 
 
 "There are several swamps about it that I want 
 to look into." 
 
 "But the legislators have done that," she quickly 
 replied. "That's what they are hired for." 
 
 "Um, no," he spoke up, shaking his head. "Not 
 exactly. They are hired for ten dollars a day — and 
 never adjourn." 
 
130 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 **But you are going to sign the bill, aren't you?" 
 
 "Well, you see " 
 
 "For my sake," she broke in, closer to him, gaz- 
 ing into his eyes, "for me." 
 
 "Well, for your sake, I guess " 
 
 Jim interrupted by stepping in from the portico. 
 
 "Scuse me, sah. Mis' Fairburn an' dat boy what 
 calls hisse'f Cap'n." 
 
 The Governor got up as quickly as he could. 
 
 "Show them in," he commanded, and then added, 
 to Lucy: "They won't stay long. Step up to the 
 library a minute. I'll soon get rid of them." 
 
 She hastened to obey. On the landing she halted. 
 
 "Governor," she whispered, "may I hope?" 
 
 "You couldn't do anything better," he gaily 
 replied, waving his hand at her, as she threw him a 
 kiss. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE OLD man's SIDE OF IT 
 
 Mrs. Fairburn and the "Captain" came into the 
 room. The Governor saluted them graciously. 
 The visit was, of course, a surprise. They were 
 neighbors, in the sense of living near, but they were 
 far apart socially. In a moment the Governor had 
 forgotten the existence of the dashing creature up- 
 stairs in the library. The Yankee who has done 
 wrong may never reform, but he is ever on the look- 
 out for an opportunity to do so. It is hard wholly 
 to corrupt the blood of the Pilgrim Fathers, It 
 may sometimes be harsh but never entirely dis- 
 honest. So the v/oman up-stairs was ignored, 
 which was surely honest, and the Carpetbagger 
 smiled upon the widow. He was not without a 
 sense of poetry and he fancied that she had brought 
 with her the fragrance of the perfumed dews, drip- 
 ping from the blossoms. 
 
 131 
 
132 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Good evening, Mrs. Fairburn and — Captain," 
 was the way he welcomed them — not much in 
 words, but his eyes showed a warmer greeting. 
 "Sit down, won't you?" 
 
 "I thank you/' said Mrs. Fairburn, "but my mis- 
 sion is one of exceeding sadness." 
 
 She sank into a chair. The Governor knew what 
 she meant; but he bowed and said interrogatively: 
 "Ah?" 
 
 "Of course you know," she began, "that this 
 afternoon old Mr. Reynolds — " 
 
 "Yes, I know," the Governor broke in. "I know 
 — bad, bad. I hope you don't think I had anything 
 to do with it." He gave her a searching look, won- 
 dering if she did. But she put him at ease when 
 frankly she added: 
 
 "Oh, surely not. Governor." 
 
 "Thank you/' he remarked with a sigh. "I have 
 already waived all law in the matter, and Fm going 
 straight to the bottom of it myself," 
 
 "I am glad to hear that. Mr. Reynolds, you 
 know, is one of the oldest and most highly re- 
 spected — " 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 133 
 
 "Yes, I know," he broke in, "and I give you my 
 word that he shall have full justice — law or no law." 
 
 The "Captain" had sat down stiffly on a straight- 
 back chair, looking straight before him as a mili- 
 tary man should. He paid no attention to the con- 
 versation of these civilians. The arrest of an old 
 man could not interest him, unless it involved a 
 court-martial. 
 
 "Governor," said Mrs. Fairburn, "there is some- 
 thing higher than the mere forms of law. Above 
 all law stands the sublime figure — Justice." 
 
 "But like her twin sister. Truth, she is sometimes 
 obscured by the dark fogs of ignorance and malice," 
 the Governor replied, and the widow gave him a 
 look in which there was no sectional prejudice — 
 the look of a woman whose admiration was rising. 
 
 At this point the boy spoke up. "Governor, has 
 my commission got here yet?" He did not look 
 around. 
 
 "Ah, your commission — from Washington. No, 
 not quite." And then speaking to Mrs. Fairburn 
 the Governor added: "I have sent for old Mr. Rey- 
 
134 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 noMs, and have ordered him brought here. I want 
 to hear his side of the story." 
 
 "I am so glad, Governor. And whatever he tells 
 you, you may rely upon as the whole truth." 
 
 Nellie jumped in at the door, slammed it after 
 her, and then, opening it wide enough to peep 
 through, cried out: "Go back, don't you come in 
 here." 
 
 "What have you got there?" the Governor asked. 
 "The alligator?" 
 
 "No, sir, it's Bulger. That dog will be the death 
 of me." She turned and with a look of surprise 
 recognized Mrs. Fairburn. "Why, good evening." 
 Then she saw the boy. "Hello, Roy!" she cried, 
 "I haven't seen you since this morning." She ran 
 over to him. 
 
 "Nellie," said her father, "can't you find a chair?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, but I don't want one. Come on, Roy, 
 I've got something I want to show you." The 
 "soldier" forgot his military training and romped 
 with her, up and down the veranda and out in the 
 soft moonlight among the magnolia trees. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 135 
 
 "They seem to have grown very fond of each 
 other," said Mrs. Fairburn. 
 
 "Yes," replied the Governor; "along with their 
 cats and their alligators and their bulldogs, my 
 room looks like a case of delirium tremens." 
 
 Mrs. Fairburn smiled. After a short silence she 
 said: "There is another matter, Governor. Do you 
 remember? The pardon for that Francis boy. You 
 said you would look into it." 
 
 "Did I?" 
 
 "You promised me you would." 
 
 "Promised you? I guess I did." He reached 
 over and touched a bell. The negro appeared. 
 "Jim," he said, "go up to the library and bring me 
 the papers in the upper right hand pigeon-hole of 
 my desk. If I'm not mistaken the pardon is among 
 those papers, Mrs. Fairburn." 
 
 Jim slowly mounted the stairs, repeating to him- 
 self, "Upper right hand cornder, upper right hand 
 cornder." * 
 
 "I felt sure you had merely overlooked it, Gov- 
 ernor." 
 
136 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "It isn't that," he replied. "I've been too busy- 
 to look into it." 
 
 "It wouldn't take so very long, would it, Gov- 
 ernor?" 
 
 The Governor looked at her. Frankly she met 
 his gaze. How beautiful her eyes were; how musi- 
 cal her voice sounded; how perfectly her gown 
 fitted! Surely she didn't look like the mother of 
 a son old enough to slaughter Indians! There 
 Vv^as a peculiar softness in his voice as he slowly 
 replied: "It wouldn't take me very long, Mrs. 
 Fairburn, to look into any matter in which you 
 were interested." 
 
 Jim came down stairs, limping to imply mystery, 
 and, handing the Governor some papers, whispered: 
 "White lady up dar, sah." The Governor took the 
 documents, making him a sly sign to keep quiet, 
 and began to read over their titles — 'Concurrent 
 Resolution, 68' — 'To establish free schools and to 
 provide for' — 'Midland Railway bill' — Ah." He 
 glanced toward the library, put this paper into his 
 pocket, and proceeded to read: "'Pardon, Elias 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 131 
 
 Francis.' This is it. Thought it was here some- 
 where." He returned several papers to Jim and 
 told him to put them back where he found them. 
 "Upper right hand corner, remember." 
 
 "Yas, sah." Mounting the stairs the darkey re- 
 peated, "Upper right hand cornder" until he 
 reached the landing. 
 
 "And, say, Jim," the Governor called, "bring a 
 pen and ink." 
 
 "Yas, sah. Upper right hand cornder — pen and 
 ink." 
 
 "Governor," said Mrs. Fairburn, "you don't 
 know how much that piece of paper is worth to 
 me." 
 
 A feeling of rascally humor seized the Governor 
 and he significantly replied: "Well, you don't know 
 how much it might have been worth to me either." 
 
 "It will carry joy to a stricken household," said 
 the widow, too earnest in her gratitude to catch the 
 Governor's joke. 
 
 "It couldn't be borne by a better messenger, 
 madam.." 
 
 "Thank you. Governor, you are very kind." 
 
138 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "How's that? Kind? Then there must be some- 
 thing wrong with me to-night, for I haven't heard 
 that before since I struck the state." Jim came 
 down. "On the table," said the Governor, motion- 
 ing. The negro put down the pen and inkstand 
 and took occasion to slyly whisper: 
 
 "White lady up dar yit, sah." 
 
 "Go on, go on," commanded the Governor, and 
 under his breath added something that Mrs. Fair- 
 burn did not hear — it was just as well that she 
 didn't. Jim nodded, grinned and resumed his place 
 on the portico, slowly pacing up and down. 
 
 The Governor signed the pardon. "Understand," 
 he said, "I don't really know anything about thii 
 merits of this case; I do this for — " 
 
 "For justice, Governor." 
 
 "No," said he, handing her the paper, "for a live 
 goddess." 
 
 There was a tramping of feet on the flag-stone 
 walk. The Governor listened. Mrs. Fairburn 
 arose. Jim stepped in. "Mr. Lummers, Mr. Wil- 
 letts an' some udder folks, sah." 
 
 "Show them in. It's Mr. Reynolds." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 139 
 
 "I must go," said Mrs. Fairburn. "Where's 
 Roy?" 
 
 "Don't — please don't/' the Governor pleaded. 
 "Wait." i 
 
 They stood a Httle apart, with their eyes on the 
 door, waiting for the newcomers to enter. Tremu- 
 lous, but walking proudly, old John Reynolds, fol- 
 lowed by the rest came through the broad door- 
 way. The old planter was a picture, a picture now 
 almost faded from the canvas of our national life, 
 an out-of-date dignity, an emphasis of over-con- 
 scious self-respect in black. He advanced well 
 within the room, glanced down to see that his wife 
 was beside him, and stood erect, as still as his phys- 
 ical weakness would permit. It was some time 
 before a word was spoken. The Governor bowed 
 and was silent, gazing at the old man — the palsied 
 remnant of a country's aristocracy. Mrs. Fairburn 
 ran to the woman and embraced her. Willetts was 
 the first to speak. 
 
 "Well, here we are, Governor." 
 
 "Yes," Lummers spoke up, "and a hard time we 
 had bringing them, too." 
 
140 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 The Governor cleared his throat. "Sit down, 
 everybody," he commanded, but no one moved. 
 
 The old man took no notice of the Governor, 
 but with a courtly gesture addressed himself to Mrs. 
 Fairburn. "Good evening, Madam. And have you 
 come here to intercede for me? That was wrong, 
 Madam; it should not have been done." Then he 
 slowly turned his old eyes upon the Governor. 
 "Will you inform me for what purpose I have been 
 brought here in violation of all forms of law?" 
 
 Mrs. Reynolds gently touched his arm. "John!" 
 she pleadingly said. 
 
 The old man turned and bowed to her, and then 
 addressed the Governor. "Well, sir!" 
 
 The Governor's voice was so soft that Mrs. Fair- 
 burn looked at him quickly, and Willetts moved 
 uneasily. "Mr. Reynolds, no one could regret more 
 deeply — " 
 
 "Spare yourself that trouble, sir," the old man 
 interrupted. "Am I to be informed?" 
 
 "Mr. Reynolds, I have sent for you to — " 
 
 "By what authority?" the old man broke in„ 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 141 
 
 "Well, by the authority of a kindly interest — if 
 no other." 
 
 "I recognize no such authority, sir." 
 
 The old woman touched his arm again and called 
 his name, speaking it in a voice full of sorrow an(J 
 admonition — "Jo^^-" He saluted her gallantly. 
 
 "Now that you have come," continued the Gov- 
 ernor, "I should like to hear your story." 
 
 "Story? I do not come here primed with ; 
 story." 
 
 "I want to hear your side of the case." 
 
 "This is no court of law, sir." 
 
 "Of course not; but understand — I do not de 
 mand this — I request it." 
 
 There was a softening change in the old man*-. 
 manner. "Very well, sir, you shall have it. Om 
 morning I found that some one had thrown dowr 
 my fences and ridden through my plantation. I 
 put the fences up. The next day I saw a man 
 throw down the fence and start to ride through. I 
 hailed him. 'Sir,' I said, 'don't you do that again.^ 
 He made a sneering answer and rode on. Theii 
 
142 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 I called out to him: 'Sir, if you do that again I 
 will shoot you.' I am told that to-day my fences 
 were thrown down again and that this man rode 
 through. Later, he was found dead near a gap 
 that he had made in the fence." 
 
 "With a bullet hole in his head," Willetts 
 spoke up. 
 
 The Governor made a gesture to enjoin silence. 
 The old man proceeded: 
 
 "Somebody had killed him. I did not. And do 
 you think, sir, that if he had fallen by my hand, 
 I would stand here and deny it? No, sir. I did 
 not kill him; but — the infamous scoundrel, I wish 
 to God I had!" 
 
 Willetts stepped forward. "Governor," he be- 
 gan, "you must remember — " 
 
 "Silence, sir!" the Governor thundered. Then 
 in kindly tones he said: "Mr. Reynolds, I have de- 
 cided to take the law in my own hands — " 
 
 "You have already done that, sir." 
 
 "And release you on your own recognizance." 
 
 "You cannot do that, sir. I am answerable to 
 the sheriff alone." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 143 
 
 "I made the sheriff," the Governor quietly re- 
 plied, 
 
 "Then, sir, to the law," said the old man. 
 
 "Damn the law — I beg your pardon, ladies." 
 The Governor had lost his patience, though not in 
 unkindness, "Take them away!" he said. 
 
 "Stop!" Reynolds interposed, "I demand to be 
 taken back to the jail." 
 
 His old wife's pleading voice was heard. "Oh, 
 John, let us not go back to the jail," she said. "It's 
 such a dreary place." 
 
 "To the jail!" he cried excitedly. "It is the law." 
 
 The old woman looked up at him as he turned 
 away. Taking his hand she softly said: "Then 
 we'll go back together." 
 
 They turned toward the door and went out in 
 silence. Willetts and Lummers prepared to follow 
 them. 
 
 "Wait," said the Governor. "Put them down 
 at their own door." 
 
 "But, Governor," Willetts interrupted. 
 
144 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Do as I tell you — at their own door. Don't let 
 them knov/ where th.ey are going^. Lummers, go 
 to the sheriff and tell liim that under no conditions 
 are they to be admitted to the jail again. Go!" 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 A HORTICULTURAL IDEA 
 
 The Governor and Mrs. Fairburn stood in 
 silence till they heard the carriage roll away. 'Gov- 
 ernor," said the widow, extending her hand, "I 
 thank you. It was a noble act." 
 
 "Oh, that's all right," he replied, taking the 
 proffered hand gingerly. 
 
 "You have proved yourself a man, Governor." 
 
 "You are surprised?" 
 
 "I am highly pleased." 
 
 "But — surprised. I'm sorry. You came to see 
 the Governor and were surprised to find a man." 
 
 "I am glad that the man I found is greater than 
 the Governor I came to see." 
 
 The Governor waved his hand in acknowledg- 
 ment of these warm words of praise, and motioning 
 toward a chair said: "Sit down. Mrs. Fairburn," 
 he said, after a pause, "do you think it wrong for 
 
 145 
 
146 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 a man to play the cards that circumstances have 
 dealt him?" 
 
 "Not if he play them honorably, Governor." 
 "In a game where everyone else is cheating?" 
 "An honorable man should not be found in such 
 a game," she replied. 
 
 "But remember," he insisted, "the cards of life 
 are dealt by circumstances. A man is forced into 
 the game, and must play the hand that is waiting 
 for him." 
 
 She did not agree with him. "Man is not the 
 creature but the creator of circumstances," she 
 said quietly. 
 
 "No," contended the Governor, "the wise man as 
 well as the fool is a creature of environment." He 
 ran his lingers through his hair, thinking. Sud- 
 denly he looked up. "Imagine a tangled garden," 
 he said, "wild and neglected, choked with weeds 
 and briars, an unsightly jungle. Amid that rank 
 wilderness of weeds a single rose lifts its head. It 
 isn't much of a rose; but it is a rose. Do the 
 magnificent flowers which glorify the well-kept 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 147 
 
 garden across the road, deserve more credit than 
 that stunted weakUng which has fought its way to 
 the air and the sun?" 
 
 It was her turn to reflect, and she did so for a 
 moment or two. "But who would plant a rose in 
 such a jungle?" 
 
 "Circumstances might; circumstances do," he 
 replied. "Is that the fault of the rose?" 
 
 "No," she admitted. "We are not responsible for 
 our existence; we are responsible for our lives. 
 How much better if kindly hands would tear away 
 the weeds and let in the pure air and the snn-light." 
 
 Jim stepped in and handed the Governor a card. 
 He looked at it. "Um, Captain Pointer. Tell the 
 Captain to come in." 
 
 Mrs. Fairburn arose. "I must find Roy," she 
 said, "and bid you good-night." 
 
 "No; not yet, please." 
 
 "Yes, I really must be going. I don't know why 
 I should have remained so long. I " 
 
 Captain Pointer appeared at the door. He sav/ 
 Mrs. Fairburn, bowed to her and entered the room. 
 
148 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 Advancing toward the Governor he halted and with 
 a military salute, bade him good evening. Mrs. 
 Fairburn turned toward Jim who stood at the door. 
 
 "I wish you would see if you can find my son," 
 she said, "tell him that it's time we were going 
 home." 
 
 "Just a minute," the Governor spoke up, address- 
 ing Mrs. Fairburn as the negro hastened ofif. "I'm 
 rather interested in that horticultural idea of yours." 
 
 The Captain glanced slily at Mrs. Fairburn and 
 handed the Governor a letter. The Governor 
 opened it, read its brief contents and handed it 
 back. Mrs. Fairburn had moved over to the win- 
 dow, and stood there looking out with her face 
 turned away from the two men. 
 
 "I don't believe in this sort of thing," said the 
 Governor in a low tone; "don't believe in it at all — • 
 seventeenth century. Tell him I want to see him. 
 Ask him to come here — alone — and we'll talk it 
 over;" 
 
 The Captain gave him a cool smile. "But, Gov- 
 ernor, such vi t\:i)g WyiuXi be — " 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 149 
 
 "I know all about that; you tell him to come 
 here." 
 
 "He will no doubt come, sir, if you refuse to — " 
 
 "Good-night, sir. Give him my answer." 
 
 The Captain, with his smile growing cooler, 
 bowed himself out. Mrs. Fairburn did not look 
 round. If she had heard their conversation she 
 gave no indication of that fact. 
 
 The Governor advanced toward her. "'Mrs. Fair- 
 burn," he began, "when I was a boy I used to fear 
 death; now I know that life is the only thing to be 
 feared. The ruler of an enemy's country — with 
 every man's hand against me — not a friend save my 
 own flesh and blood and one whose skin is as black 
 as the estimation in which I am held. That is my 
 garden, Mrs. Fairburn." 
 
 "It may be an enemy's country. Governor, but it 
 holds one friend who will always be grateful to you 
 and a hand that shall never be against you." She 
 held forth her hand and the Governor took it. 
 
 "Mrs. Fairburn," he cried, "I am the one to feel 
 grateful to-night; and I do." He hesitated for a 
 
150 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 moment, still holding her hand. "You have 
 changed the current of my life." 
 
 "Governor," the widow slowly said, with more 
 earnestness than he had ever noticed before, "a 
 little thing may serve to divert the current of your 
 life; but you alone can change it." 
 
 "Alone?" echoed the Governor, looking into her 
 eyes. 
 
 "Alone," she repeated. "You must do it your- 
 self." 
 
 She gently withdrew her hand and for a moment 
 neither spoke. There was a queer lump in the Car- 
 petbagger's throat which kept him silent and Mrs. 
 Fairburn seemed to be thinking of something away 
 back in the past. "Governor," she said at last, her 
 voice low and musical and soothing, "I was born 
 among the mountains of old Tennessee and I love 
 that rugged country. To me there is nothing in 
 the whole realm of nature more beautiful than a 
 mountain brook — clear as crystal, bright as the 
 sunshine, sweet as the dews of heaven. I never 
 see a muddy stream, dark and polluted, that I don't 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 151 
 
 think of what that stream was, away back up yonder 
 in the mountains. I never behold such a stream 
 without a sigh and a wish that somehow I could 
 remove the contaminating influences that have 
 made it what it is." 
 
 She looked straight into the Governor's eyes and 
 he read the imagery of her words aright. 
 
 "A muddy stream may be powerful," she con- 
 tinued. "Circumstances may make it very power- 
 ful. It may even be very useful, in its way. But 
 it is no longer beautiful, Governor, because it is no 
 longer pure." 
 
 He tried to speak, but, though his lips moved, no 
 sound came from them. It seemed as if a giant hand 
 had tightly gripped his throat. When at last he found 
 his voice its sound startled him. "Yes," he whis- 
 pered, hoarsely, "I know. I understand. It's all 
 true. But if this stream, dark and muddy as it is, 
 could be made as clear as a crystal spring — could 
 the world forget — could you forget — that it had 
 once been polluted?" 
 
 Big Jim came lumbering into the room. "I kain't 
 
152 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 find dat Cap'n boy no whar," he said. "I thought 
 I yere him an' Miss NelHe a-laughin' one place an' 
 I went dar, an' den I yere him an' her summers 
 else an' I goes an' dey ain't dar. I looks up in de 
 moonlight an' dey ain't dar — an' de Lawd only 
 knows whar dey is." 
 
 The negro suddenly discovered that he had not 
 an attentive audience and stopped short in abashed 
 amazement. Mrs. Fairburn detached a rose from 
 her bodice and extended it toward the Governor. 
 
 "Make it clear," she said. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 NOT QUITE SO MUDDY 
 
 Roy did not make his appearance and Governor 
 Crance volunteered to escort his fair visitor home. 
 Jim looked after them as they walked out. Then 
 he laughed. "Things gwine on yere, I tell yo'. 
 Fust thing I knows I'll hab two pa'r o' couples 
 t' watch. An' — an' — a white lady in de liberry." 
 He went to a door opening out into the garden, 
 and whistled. Nellie and Roy entered cautiously. 
 "An' now, if you'll 'sense me fur t'arin' myself 
 away," said the negro, 'T'll jest step out on de 
 po'ch an' ketch a few flies fur de alligator." 
 
 Nellie and Roy sat down beside each other. They 
 had formulated a desperate scheme. The fragrance 
 of the flowers, the soft air, the moonlight had 
 been too much for the girl to withstand. All na- 
 ture demanded something romantic of her. "And 
 
 153 
 
154 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 remember," she said, "it must be at midnight — 
 precisely." 
 
 "Yes," drawled the boy, a little afraid now that 
 he was out of the moonlight, "but I don't see the 
 use of all that." 
 
 "Well, how else could it be done?" she pouted. 
 
 "Why, I'd just go up like a soldier and tell him." 
 
 "Oh, no, no; that would never do." 
 
 "I don't know. I think the Governor likes me 
 pretty well, and, besides, I think he's a little soft 
 on mother. I'd just as soon chance it. I'll bet 
 he'd say yes." 
 
 "Of course he would, you goose, and that would 
 spoil it all. Anybody could be married like that. 
 If I can't elope, I won't be married at all." 
 
 The boy pondered for a moment or two and then 
 looked up brightly. "If we ask him, maybe he'll 
 let us elope." 
 
 She was angry enough to have boxed his ears. 
 "Why, you ninny, this is a secret," she cried, indig- 
 nantly. "We mustn't tell anybody about it. All 
 elopements are secret. Don't you remember how 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 155 
 
 they did in the 'Lost Heiress'? Have you got a 
 black horse?" 
 
 "No, but I've got a bay." 
 
 "That won't do. It's got to be black." 
 
 "And how about the ladder?" she asked. 
 
 "What ladder?" 
 
 "Why, the rope-ladder." 
 
 "What do you want a ladder for?" 
 
 "To get out of the window. How do you sup- 
 pose I'm going to get down?" 
 
 "Why, come down the stairs, can't you?" 
 
 She gave him a look that was enough to have 
 withered him. "No, sir; who ever heard of such 
 a thing? Coming down the stairs!" 
 
 "Won't any sort of ladder do?" he asked. 
 
 "Oh, I forgot!" she cried. "We can't have a 
 horse. Couldn't take Bulger on a horse. Or the 
 parrot, or the cat, or the alligator." 
 
 "Great Scott! Can't you leave 'em here?" 
 
 "No, sir; do you think I'd leave Bulger behind?" 
 
 It was time for the boy to think again. "Well, 
 if everything's got to go along," he growled, "it 
 
156 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 would take an express wagon to run away with 
 you." 
 
 Jim, outside, gave a warning whistle. A mo- 
 ment later the negro poked his head into the room. 
 "Coast ain't clear now, Miss Nellie. Man-o-wah's 
 comin'." 
 
 They heard the Governor, whistling a merry tune. 
 Nellie and Roy hastily took seats on opposite sides 
 of the room. The Governor came in briskly. 
 "Captain, your mother wants you," he said. 
 
 Roy got up awkwardly and stood for a moment as 
 if he felt it incumbent upon himself to say some- 
 thing. But nothing came into his mind, so he 
 stood, looking hopelessly at the girl. 
 
 "I'll just run over with him/' she said. "I think 
 he's afraid to go alone." 
 
 "What, and a soldier!" exclaimed the Governor, 
 with mock earnestness. Then the young fellow 
 found his tongue. "I am not afraid to go any- 
 where," he declaied, straightening up stiffly. 
 
 The Governor saluted. "Good-night, Captain." 
 
 Nellie went with Roy to the door, whispered to 
 him and threw him a kiss as he passed out. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 157 
 
 "Pigeons!" chuckled the Governor, "I suppose 
 they think I'm bhnd." NelHe turned toward him. 
 "In your wonderful collection of pets, I suppose 
 you are growing to like the biped best of all, aren't 
 you?" he asked. She bashfully nodded her head 
 iind the Governor continued: "Well, that's right. 
 I rather like that parrot myself." 
 
 "Parrot!" she exclaimed, indignantly. 
 
 "Why, certainly. You haven't added any other 
 two-legged freak to your aggregation, have you?" 
 
 "N— no, sir." 
 
 ''Well, I should hope not. The house is getting 
 so cluttered up with your pets that I guess I'll have 
 to call a halt now. Whenever you want to add an- 
 other one to your outfit, you'll have to get my con- 
 sent first. Do you understand?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Biped, quadruped or centipede.'* 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Is it a bargain? Good! Now, then, how'd you 
 like to be my secretary, eh?" 
 
 "Goody! May I?" 
 
158 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "If you promise to be real good and not bother 
 me by asking questions about things that don't 
 concern you, I'll let you help me with my letters up 
 in the library." 
 
 With an exclamation of delight Nellie darted 
 toward the stairway and was halfway up to the 
 landing before the Governor suddenly recollected 
 that the library already contained a visitor. 
 "NelHe!" he shouted. She stopped in amazement. 
 "Here! Come down, I can't let you help me to- 
 night. Some other time. There! Run along now. 
 The alligator may need a few more flies before bed- 
 time." 
 
 Though somewhat disappointed, the girl needed 
 no second bidding, as she was eager to muse alone 
 over the ripening of her own romantic schemes. 
 The Carpetbagger waited till she had shut the door; 
 then he started up the stairs. Suddenly he saw the 
 rose, on the lapel of his coat. He halted. "Jim." 
 he called, stepping down into the room. The negro, 
 never far off, appeared in an instant. "Ask the 
 lady in the library to come down." He buttoned his 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 159 
 
 coat tightly and stood, waiting-. Lucy came trip- 
 ping down the stairs, ahead of Jim. 
 
 "Is my hair gray?" she asked, banteringly. 
 "Well, you'll have to make up for lost time." 
 
 The Governor was cool. "I haven't lost any 
 time," he said. 
 
 "Well, I have. I've read all the books in your old 
 library." 
 
 "Then you haven't lost time," he replied. 
 "You've improved it." 
 
 "Well, let's not lose any now," she said. "How 
 about that bill?" 
 
 "What bill?" 
 
 "Why, the Midland." 
 
 He looked at her steadily. "I can't recall any 
 such bill — to-night," he said. 
 
 The lobbyist started. "Ah!" she exclaimed, evi- 
 dently surprised. "Will your memory be better 
 to-morrow?" 
 
 "I'm afraid not. My memory seems to be getting 
 worse every day." 
 
 "Governor, you can't forget that bill. If you do, 
 others will forget the election." 
 
160 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "That's all right. The election will have to take 
 care of itself." 
 
 "But will it take care of you?" 
 
 'T don't know. And I don't care." 
 
 "Governor, do you know what this means?" Now 
 there was genuine alarm in her voice. 
 
 "Yes," slowly replied the Carpetbagger. "I do. 
 It means that the next man who serves as Governor 
 of the State of Mississippi is going to be elected 
 Governor." 
 
 She gave her head a contemptuous toss. "Sui- 
 cide! Are you going to throw over all your 
 friends?" 
 
 "Friends? What friends?" 
 
 "Why, your political friends." 
 
 "There is no such thing as a political friend." 
 
 She tossed her head again. "Then if there are 
 no political friends there can be no political obliga- 
 tions. Remember that." 
 
 "I'll not forget it. Shall I order my carriage for 
 you?" 
 
 "No, thank you, I prefer to go as I came." She 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 161 
 
 walked off full of anger, but thought better of it 
 and at the door turned to him. "Let us part as 
 friends. Good-night." She held forth her hand, 
 hoping that by a touch she might win him back. 
 But her magnetism failed her this time, for he 
 grasped her hand as he would have taken the hand 
 of a man. "Good-night," she repeated. "Good- 
 bye," said the Governor, with significant emphasis. 
 She went out. Walking slowly about the room, he 
 looked down at the rose on his lapel. 
 
 "I don't belieVe our stream is quite so muddy as 
 it was," he mused. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 NOTHING BUT ACTION NOW 
 
 The Governor was walking slowly up and down 
 the room, with an occasional glance at the rose, 
 when Major Reynolds' card was brought in. His 
 step had come hard upon the floor of the portico, 
 and the negro's eyes were wide with apprehension. 
 ''Show him in," said the Governor, with another 
 glance at the rose, resuming his walk. He heard 
 the Major enter and turned to face him. 
 
 "Good evening, sir," said the Governor. "Will 
 you sit down?" 
 
 "Sir," the Major began, with his head high and 
 his breast full, "in contravention of all usages be- 
 tween gentlemen, I am here at .your request." 
 
 "Yes, I sent for you. We are both too old to — 
 make fools of ourselves. Let's talk this thing over." 
 
 "Sir," replied the Major, with terrible earnest- 
 ness, "when you arrest my father and send him 
 
 162 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 163 
 
 and my old mother to jail, the matter has gone 
 beyond talk and beyond explanation. Nothing 
 but action now!" 
 
 "But, Major, do you think for a moment that I 
 caused your father's — " 
 
 "Any man who would be guilty of such an out- 
 rage would not hesitate to deny it. In your office 
 I summoned you to meet the voters of this com- 
 monwealth at the polls. In this affair you meet 
 me — you must do it." 
 
 *'But wait a moment. Major. Do you know 
 what my position in this matter is?" 
 
 "I do not care what your position is. I "under- 
 stand my duty as a man of honor, and I know that 
 you are a coward as well as a scoundrel. You 
 shall not dodge this issue if I have to horse-whip 
 you publicly through the streets." 
 
 The old Carpetbagger recoiled as if he had been 
 stung. He drew himself up to his full height. 
 There was a light in his eye such as no one ever had 
 seen there before. "Stop!" he cried, his long, bony 
 forefinger pointing like a pistol straight at the 
 
164 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 Major's face. "Hold on, nov/! I've got a bullet 
 here," he said, tapping his left shoulder. "Some 
 of you fellows gave it to me at Antietam. Maybe 
 you did it — I don't know. But I wasn't dodging 
 then and I haven't dodged since then." He stopped 
 for a moment and then added, with evident effort 
 to master his feelings: "Four years of fighting 
 v/as enough for me. It ought to have been enough 
 for you. Don't be a fool." 
 
 The Major stood stern and unmoved. He was 
 not thinking of the war or its consequences, but of 
 the fact that an outrage had been put upon his 
 father and his mother. The cold light of a sneer 
 fell across his grim countenance. "Sir," he said, 
 "even a coward is safe in his own house. But to- 
 morrow, whenever and wherever I meet you, I will 
 shoot you as I would a rabid cur. Take your pistol 
 with you. I will make you use it." 
 
 "Do you mean that I must choose between a duel 
 and assassination?" calmly inquired the Governor. 
 
 "Call it what you like," hotly rejoined the South- 
 erner. '"^You know what I mean." 
 
 "I will fight." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 165 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed the Major, with brightening 
 countenance. 
 
 "Let me tell you," continued the Carpetbagger, 
 "that this business has no place in modern civiliza- 
 tion. It belongs to the seventeenth century. But 
 if there be no alternative — if it must come — if \\q 
 must go back into romance — let's go 'way back. 
 Meet me at midnight — alone — no seconds — in tlie 
 garden out there under the magnolias. I'll be there 
 with an extra saber at your disposal. I don't give 
 that," he added, snapping his fingers, "for your 
 code or your customs; but I'll meet you — man to 
 man." 
 
 The Major smiled. "Thank you," he said. "I 
 will be there. Until then, sir, I bid you good- 
 night." He bov/ed in a stately fashion, stepped to 
 the door, turned, bowed again and passed out. 
 
 The Governor walked up and down the room. 
 "It had to come," he mused. And he seemed 
 relieved that some sort of settlement had at last 
 been reached. It had been an eventful evening, 
 an evening of stern decision and almost of tender- 
 
166 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 ness, an evening scented by the sweet odor of a 
 rose. He touched a bell. "J™/' ^^ said, "lock up 
 for the night." The negro began to close the doors 
 and windows and to draw the curtains. Nellie 
 looked into the room, timidly. 
 
 "May I come in?" she asked. The Governor held 
 out his arms toward her. "What was all that loud 
 talking?" she went on, looking with strange inquiry 
 at her father. "I have been waiting ever so long 
 for my good-night kiss. You weren't going to for- 
 get me to-night, were you?" 
 
 The Governor answered with an emotional note 
 of tenderness in his voice. "No, little one, I could 
 not forget you — to-night." He kissed her fondly 
 and, going with her to the door, kissed her again. 
 "Good-night, little one." 
 
 "Mus' I put out all de lights, sah?" said Jim. 
 
 "Except in the library. I have some writing to 
 do. But don't wait for me. Go to bed." 
 
 "Yas, sah," said the negro. "Good-night, sah." 
 
 "Jim!" 
 
 "Yas, sah." 
 
 "Come here." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 167 
 
 Drawing a roll of bills from his pocket, the Car- 
 petbagger pressed it into the negro's hand. "J^"^*" 
 he said, "you're a good fellow. Keep it — it's 
 yours." The darkey looked at him in surprise. 
 Too much overcome to say anything he drooped, 
 bowed his head and went out, taking a lamp with 
 him. The room was dark. The Governor went to 
 a window and drew aside the curtains. The full 
 moon, sentiment's searchlight, threw a flood of sil- 
 very whiteness upon him as he looked out toward 
 the magnolias in the garden. Slowly he bowed his 
 head and his lips touched the flower upon his coat. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE WHIPPOORWILL's CALL 
 
 Two hours is scant time to prepare for death, 
 but Governor Crance found it too long. His busi- 
 ness affairs required no settlement. Exposed as he 
 had long been to the danger of assassination, he 
 had taken the precaution to guard against any emer- 
 gency. There were a few letters to be written — that 
 was all. 
 
 Above his desk in the library tv/o cavalry sabers 
 hung crossed upon the wall. One of them he had 
 carried through the war; the other he had wrenched 
 from the stiffening clutch of a fallen foe at An- 
 tietam. Both had done bloody service. For the 
 first time since they had been hung up as orna- 
 mental trophies, he took the weapons down and 
 looked them over. Of dififerent workmanship, they 
 were equal in length, in weight and in sharpness. 
 
 "I don't know how this will go on the ground," 
 
 168 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 169 
 
 he mused, as he again grasped the old familiar hilt. 
 "It used to be all right in the saddle — a dash and 
 a slash and it was over with. But this is different. 
 Still, it beats a pistol. They say he is the best shot 
 in the South and I couldn't hit the side of a barn." 
 
 The house was still. From the negro quarters, 
 faint and far, floated snatches of plantation melodies 
 and the thrumming of a banjo. A tiny clock upon 
 the mantel startled the Governor by chiming the 
 hour of eleven. 
 
 "An hour yet," he muttered. "It's bad enough 
 to hunt for trouble, but I believe it is worse to wait 
 for it. I can't stay here, or I'll suffocate." 
 
 With the sabers under his arm he quietly tiptoed 
 down the stairway, opened a window and stepped 
 out upon the broad veranda. It was a glorious 
 moonlit night, almost as light as day, bright and 
 blue and balmy. The soft air, sweet with the fra- 
 grance of magnolias and the flov/ery incense of . 
 midsummer bloom, seemed to whisper, "Peace on 
 earth, good will to men," and its message went 
 straight to his heart. 
 
no THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Why should a man be shoved back into the 
 middle ages like this?" he said, half savagely. "I 
 feel as if I were trying to break into one of Walter 
 Scott's novels. I don't want to kill him and Missis- 
 sippi can't afford to lose him, I've seen enough of 
 blood — wasn't cut out for a butcher any way. But," 
 he added, firmly, "it's better to be the butcher than 
 the beef. If a corpse has got to be furnished it won't 
 be mine if I can help it." 
 
 A dry twig snapped beneath his foot with a re- 
 port like a pistol and a startled night bird fluttered 
 among the bushes. Saber in hand, he turned, half 
 expecting to face a foe; but it was the instinct of 
 self-defense rather than an indication of nervous- 
 ness, for he never was more completely master of 
 himself. Indeed he marveled at his own coolness 
 at such a time for, try as he might, he could not 
 convince himself of the seriousness of the situation. 
 Of one thing he felt perfectly sure — he would come 
 out all right. 
 
 *'Cards alone don't count," he had often said. 
 "A great deal depends on how they are played. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 171 
 
 In a crisis, the fellow who loses his head loses the 
 game, no matter what he has in his hand." 
 
 Looking back toward the gubernatorial mansion, 
 its tall columns shining white in the moonlight, like 
 a spectral castle framed in shadow, he was surprised 
 to see a light twinkling from one of the upper win- 
 dows, Nellie's room or the library, he could not tell 
 which. "That's queer," he soliloquized. "I could 
 have sworn I put out that light a few minutes ago. 
 And Nellie has been in dreamland for a couple of 
 hours. I must have forgotten and left it burning." 
 
 Near the center of a little grove of magnolias, at 
 the lower end of the garden, stood a great live oak, 
 a rough, gnarled giant, whose twisted trunk and 
 sprawling branches had often been explored by 
 Nellie and Roy during their romping expeditions. 
 About this tree there was an open space of green- 
 sward, as if the younger trees had withdrawn to a 
 respectful distance from the old monarch of the 
 garden and had halted to form a guard of honor. 
 Sharply silhouetted against the moon, the branches 
 overhead threw upon the grass fantastic shadows, 
 that changed with every breeze. 
 
172 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "There's plenty of room here," said the Governor, 
 half aloud, as he looked over the spot. "I've a 
 good half hour yet; but I won't keep him waiting. 
 I've always found that the best v/ay to get through 
 a bad job is to make a good beginning." 
 
 He leaned the sabers against the oak and sat 
 down upon one of its knotty roots. A mimite later, 
 his thoughts played truant and overleaped the stone 
 wall near by. The widow! Did she know? She was 
 present when Capt. Pointer presented the Major's 
 challenge. Could it be possible that her womanly 
 intuition had deserted her upon that occasion, so 
 that she suspected nothing? If she knev/ the con- 
 tents of the Captain's missive she gave no sign. 
 Maybe she did not care. Perhaps, even now, she 
 might be closeted v/ith Major Reynolds, praying for 
 his success and bidding him Godspeed. Why not? 
 Had she not been the Major's friend from child- 
 hood? Did not the gossips say that it v/as the 
 Major who had recently induced her to lay aside 
 the sable gowns she had worn for years as a tribute 
 to one long dead? And did they not predict that 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 173 
 
 this change was soon to be followed by the donning 
 of orange-blossoms and the bridal veil? And yet 
 there was the rose — her rose — upon his coat lapel! 
 
 A queer whistle, like the call of a whippoorwill, 
 among the trees near by, ended the Governor's 
 reverie abruptly and brought him to his feet. He 
 listened intently. There v/as no sound save the soft 
 soughing of the wind arhong the branches overhead. 
 
 "A v/hippoorwill?" he ejaculated, incredulously. 
 "Down here? I never heard one here before. 
 Didn't think there was one in the whole state of 
 Mississippi." He picked up the sabers. The 
 whistle was repeated. This time there could be no 
 mistake — it was plainly a crude imitation of the 
 whippoorwill's note, but no one whose boyhood 
 was passed upon a northern farm would have been 
 deceived by it. The old Carpetbagger smiled. 
 "That sounds to me more like love than war," he 
 remarked, as he stepped back among the dark 
 magnolia shadows to await developments. "I 
 thought so," he added, half a minute later, as the 
 
174 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 boyish figure of Roy came into view on the oppo- 
 site side of the grassy plot. 
 
 By halting stages the young "Indian fighter," ad- 
 vanced into the open, whistling repeatedly and lis- 
 tening in vain for an answering signal. 
 
 "This is the place, all right," he exclaimed, glanc- 
 ing about him apprehensively, as if afraid of the 
 shadows. "Now, where is she? 'Tain't right to 
 treat a fellow like this — whistling around in the 
 woods. By jingo! Maybe she is playing a trick 
 on me and expects me to stay out here all night! 
 If I thought she was, I'd never speak to her again 
 as long as I live!" 
 
 His courage plainly was fast oozing out at his 
 finger tips and he was about to beat an ignominious 
 retreat. A low whippoorwill whistle near by 
 brought him to a sudden halt. "There she is now!" 
 he cried, darting forward. The Governor stepped 
 out into the moonlight. 
 
 "Great Scott! It's the old man!" gasped Roy, 
 jumping behind the oak. "And he's got a sword, 
 too." He peered around the trunk, cautiously. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 175 
 
 "Good Lord! He's got two swords!" A moment 
 later he had clambered hastily up the tree and 
 snugly ensconced himself among the leafy branches. 
 Below him stood a tall figure with a glittering saber 
 in either hand. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 MOVING THE MENAGERIE 
 
 The unexpected advent of Roy upon the scene 
 immediately changed the aspect of affairs and 
 proved a welcome diversion for the Governor, 
 whose sides shook with suppressed laughter as he 
 saw the young lover's frantic attempt to avoid de- 
 tection. The impending duel was forgotten in- 
 stantly; tragedy gave way to comedy. 
 
 "I'm sorry I scared that bird away," he remarked 
 aloud, for the youngster's benefit. "Whippoorwills 
 are so scarce down here, he would have been a fine 
 addition to Nellie's pets." He paused to whistle 
 the whippoorwill call softly a few times. "Too 
 bad!" he continued. "He's gone. I'd like to catch 
 him. If we can't do that, I'll shoot him and have 
 him stuffed." Above him, his face blanched with 
 terror, Roy hugged the oak as tightly as its own 
 bark. Suddenly, upon the still night air, there came 
 
 176 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 177 
 
 an answering call, a weak, uncertain, tremulous 
 whippoorwill note from the other end of the garden. 
 
 "Hello! He's over there now!" exclaimed the 
 Governor, his eyes twinkling with humor. "Won- 
 der if I can't call him back." Again and again he 
 whistled. The answering call grew near and nearer. 
 A few minutes later, a white dress stood out in bold 
 relief among the dark shadows of the magnolias and 
 Nellie timidly stepped into the moonlight. 
 
 The Carpetbagger looked at her and chuckled 
 with amusement. Her arms were filled with band- 
 boxes, parcels and packages. In one hand, she car- 
 ried a green parrot in a cage; in the other, a long, 
 perforated box, the temporary home of a pet alli- 
 gator. At her heels trotted the big, white bulldog, 
 Bulger. She whistled softly; an answer came from 
 behind the oak. "Ah! There you are!" she criedj 
 excitedly, hurrying forward. The Governor put 
 down his sabers and advanced to meet her. "Yes," 
 he replied, quietly. There was a scream of con- 
 sternation; the bird-cage, boxes and packages were 
 dropped in indiscriminate confusion and Bulger 
 added to the excitement by barking furiously. 
 
178 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "You've — you've dropped something, I think," 
 remarked the Governor, kindly. 
 
 The frightened child made no reply. 
 
 "Moving?" he asked, quizzically. 
 
 "N— no, sir." 
 
 "Um! What are you doing?" 
 
 "I— I— don't know, sir." 
 
 "You don't know!" exclaimed the Carpetbagger, 
 in mock astonishment. "That's bad. That's 
 mighty bad. A girl v/ho goes out alone at this time 
 of night ought to know what she is doing." 
 
 A soft, round arm went up across Nellie's eyes and 
 she began to cry softly. "I — I — wasn't going very 
 far," she sobbed; ''and I was coming right back." 
 
 "Well, don't you think you have gone far 
 enough now? Aren't you about ready to go back?" 
 
 A choking sob was the only answer. The old 
 man softened. There was a kindly note of serious- 
 ness in his voice as he laid his hand on her shoulder 
 and said: "Little one, it's all right. Don't cry. 
 Everything is all right. You've always trusted me; 
 trust me now. Will you?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 179 
 
 She was in his arms in an instant, weeping as if 
 her heart would break. "There, there, there," he 
 said, soothingly, as he patted her blonde locks. 
 "The heart of a young girl is not a safe guide to 
 the maze of matrimony. The flutterings of your 
 own little heart have filled your head with romantic 
 nonsense. V/ait. When you are a little older your 
 head and your heart will lead you aright. You 
 mustn't do this, my child. There is no romance in 
 dishonor, and the path you have chosen to-night 
 might lead you there." 
 
 He paused. The child nestling within his arms 
 had sobbed herself into submission. *T was coming 
 right back," she repeated, humbly. 
 
 "My poor, motherless girl!" he continued. 
 "How could you know? God grant you may be 
 happy in a good man's love! But the man who 
 would be your husband must lead you to the altar, 
 not wait for you in the dark." 
 
 Was it the wind that sighed so deeply among 
 the branches overhead? 
 
 "Now, then," continued the Carpetbagger, bright- 
 
180 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 ening, "go back. Here's your menagerie." He 
 handed her the parrot and the ahigator as he spoke 
 and began loading her arms with parcels. 
 
 ''But no more of this. Understand?" 
 
 "No, sir," was the ready response. "Never! I'll 
 never speak to that boy again as long as I live. He 
 didn't come, anyway!" 
 
 The wind no longer sighed among the oak 
 leaves — it groaned. 
 
 "Oh, I wouldn't say that," laughed the Governor. 
 "I wouldn't say that. Good-night." He turned 
 her face toward him in the moonlight and kissed 
 her v/armly, tenderly, reverently. "Good-night, my 
 child. Good-night and pleasant dreams." 
 
 He watched her until she disappeared from view. 
 Then he picked up the sabers. "Captain," he said, 
 quietly, "come down." 
 
 There was a moment of silence and then a scared 
 voice amid the overhanging branches tremulously 
 asked: 
 
 "Is— is it all right?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 181 
 
 "I guess SO," cheerily replied the Governor. 
 "What do you want up there, anyway?" 
 
 "I want — to come down." 
 
 The Carpetbagger laughed. "Is that why you 
 went up?" he asked. 
 
 "I didn't know but it might be a little healthier 
 for me up here." 
 
 "Are you hunting Indians, to-night, Cap?" 
 
 "No — my commission hasn't got here yet." 
 
 "Come down." Roy did so, rather sheepishly. 
 The Carpetbagger suddenly stepped out into the 
 moonlight and looked at his watch. "Roy," he said, 
 hurriedly, "I like you. I want you to do what is 
 right. Will you?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Good!" 
 
 "On the word of a gentleman. Governor — " 
 
 "And a soldier?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 The old man extended his hand and Roy grasped 
 it warmly. 
 
 "If you love Nellie you can afford to wait for her, 
 can't you?" 
 
182 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "How long?" 
 
 "Till your mother gives her consent." 
 
 "Will you give yours then?" 
 
 "Mine may not be necessary." The Governor 
 glanced about him. 'T am willing to leave the 
 matter entirely in her hands. Isn't it about your 
 bedtime?" 
 
 "Governor, you are a trump!" cried Roy, ex- 
 citedly. "And I want to say to you, sir, that I 
 would do anything in the world for you." 
 
 "Thank you. Good-night. Go to bed." 
 
 "Just as soon as she says 'yes,' Governor?" 
 
 "Yes. Good-night." 
 
 "I'll get an answer from her inside of ten minutes. 
 Good-night. I'll see you in the morning. Good- 
 night." And the excited youngster was away like 
 a shot. A dry twig snapped among the magnolias 
 near by and the Governor turned with a start. The 
 commanding figure of Major Reynolds stepped into 
 view, halted and gave a formal military salute. 
 
 "You are punctual, sir," he said. "I thank you." 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 A BAD WAY TO SPRINKLE THE LAWN 
 
 It had been a day of unusual excitement, and the 
 evening developed so many stirring incidents that 
 Mrs. Fairburn found it impossible to think of sleep. 
 Long after Governor Crance had left her at her 
 own door and had bidden her good-night, she sat 
 in an easy chair, upon the broad veranda, rapt in 
 meditation. It was a perfect midsummer night and 
 her thoughts were busy with the murder of Wiley 
 Jones, the arrest of Old John Reynolds, the devotion 
 of his aged wife and the probable efifect of their im- 
 prisonment upon the Major's canvass. She had 
 seen the awakening of a new and generous impulse 
 in the Governor and wondered whither it would 
 lead. In the midst of her reflections, one fact con- 
 tinually obtruded itself — the visit of Captain Pointer. 
 She knew that he was a trusted lieutenant of Major 
 Reynolds and one of the confidential advisers of his 
 
 183 
 
184 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 campaign. What business could he have with his 
 leader's arch enemy? 
 
 As the night wore on, an irresistible feeling of 
 unrest seized her, a vague sense of impending 
 danger, a presentiment of approaching peril. Again 
 and again, she paced up and down the long portico, 
 occasionally stopping to lean against its stately pil- 
 lars, intent to catch any unusual sight or sound. 
 Far over in the town, the big bell of a church steeple 
 tolled the hour of midnight. As its last note died 
 away, her quick eye detected a dark figure moving 
 among the shadows of the garden. Swiftly it drew 
 nearer, and a few moments later she was astonished 
 to recognize the familiar features of Roy. As he 
 sprang up the steps she confronted him. The "sol- 
 dier" uttered a cry of surprise and sank into a chair 
 in speechless confusion, 
 
 "What's tlie matter?" she anxiously inquired. 
 "What has happened? Where have you been?" 
 
 ''I — I want to get married," gasped the youngster. 
 
 "What!" 
 
 "The Governor is willing — whenever you say so." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 185 
 
 She caught him by the arm and turned him about 
 sharply so that the moonhght fell full upon his face. 
 
 "Are you asleep?" she demanded, giving him a 
 gentle shake. "Are you dreaming? Where have 
 you been?" 
 
 He motioned helplessly toward the Governor's 
 garden. "Over there," he said, laconically. 
 
 "Over where?" 
 
 "In — in the garden. He's given his consent — as 
 soon as you say so." 
 
 "Who has?" 
 
 "The Governor." 
 
 "The Governor? Governor Crance?" 
 
 Roy nodded vigorously. "I just left him and he 
 says it's all right." 
 
 "He says what's all right? Where did you see 
 him?" 
 
 "Over there," making a comprehensive sweep 
 with his arm toward the neighboring grounds. 
 
 "At this time of night?" 
 
 Roy nodded. 
 
 "What were you doing there?" 
 
186 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 The young "soldier" maintained a discreet si- 
 lence. 
 
 "What was the Governor doing?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 "Nothing?" she echoed. "At this time of night?" 
 Suddenly she grasped the boy's arm tightly. "Was 
 he alone?" she demanded. ''Did you see anyone 
 else? Was he waiting for somebody?" 
 
 Roy nodded, bashfully. "He was waiting for me, 
 I guess," he said. "Anyway, he had a couple of 
 swords." 
 
 Mrs. Fairburn threw over her head the light wrap 
 she had worn about her shoulders. "Quick!" she 
 cried. "Show me the way. I'll follow you." 
 
 When Governor Crance found himself face to face 
 with Major Reynolds he actually experienced a feel- 
 ing of relief. He was glad that at last the high 
 pressure period of suspense was to be broken. With 
 a courteous salutation he threw the two sabers upon 
 the ground. "Take your pick," he said. "I don't 
 think you'll find much difference between them." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 187 
 
 The Major drew off his gloves and carefully laid 
 them down with his hat. Then he removed his 
 coat, folded it neatly, and picked up one of the 
 weapons. The Carpetbagger carelessly threw aside 
 his hat and coat and began to roll up his shirt 
 sleeves, 
 
 "This is a bad way, Major, to sprinkle the lawn," 
 he remarked, grimly, as he seized the remaining 
 saber. 
 
 "I haven't come here, sir, to talk," said the Major. 
 
 "Well, I have," responded the Governor, the 
 point of his weapon resting upon the greensward. 
 "I want to tell you something. I didn't seek this 
 thing. You have forced it on me. If you insist on 
 going ahead with it now, I'm going to kill you." 
 
 The Major smiled. 
 
 "And I'm going to kill you," continued the Car- 
 petbagger, "not because I want to, but because I've 
 got to." 
 
 The Major's saber cut a glistening circle in the 
 moonlight as he gave a military salute with it. 
 "Take your position, sir," he said. A moment later 
 
188 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 there was a sharp flash of fire as the tv/o weapons 
 met in midair with a clang that re-echoed through 
 the little grove. The two men were not equally 
 matched. In point of physical strength Major Rey- 
 nolds outclassed his antagonist, although the latter 
 had more agility and greater nervous force. No 
 time was lost in petty preliminaries. The Major 
 went at his work as if he were in a hurry to get 
 through a disagreeable task, and the Governor's 
 saber seemed as eager as his own. Though the 
 Carpetbagger repeatedly broke ground and gave 
 way before the superior strength of his adversary his 
 shiftiness made him a dangerous antagonist and the 
 Major frequently fought upon the defensive. Not 
 a word was spoken and no sound broke the stillness 
 of the hour save the swish of the circling blades 
 and the clang of opposing steel. Suddenly a wom- 
 an's startled cry rang out, there was a rustle of 
 silken skirts among the magnolias and Mrs. Fair- 
 burn ran toward the duellists. Straight between 
 them she rushed, her white hands upraised as if to 
 part the angry weapons. The two men recoiled in- 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 189 
 
 stinctively; she seemed to throw them apart as a 
 strong man might separate two street urchins en- 
 gaged at fisticuffs. 
 
 "Gentlemen!" she cried. It was both a command 
 and an entreaty. "Put up your swords!" 
 
 Neither man moved. 
 
 "You may be enemies of each other. You are 
 both friends of mine. Put up your swords." 
 
 There was no answer save the soft soughing of 
 the wind among the trees. 
 
 "Were not four years of this enough?" she con- 
 tinued. "Is this soil still thirsty for blood? Have 
 you forgotten that peace has come? Governor, you 
 are a man of sober judgment. I am sure that you 
 did not seek this of your own accord; I am certain 
 that an appeal to your reason will lead you out of it. 
 Put up your sword." 
 
 The Carpetbagger glanced at his antagonist, but 
 he saw in those cold gray eyes nothing but impla- 
 cable hatred. 
 
 "Major," pleaded the woman between them, 
 "you may regard this man as a political enemy; but 
 
190 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 if you had seen what I saw to-night, you would es- 
 teem him as your personal friend. As soon as he 
 learned of the indignity that had been put upon 
 your father and your old mother, he ordered their 
 release, and, even against your father's protest, sent 
 them home in his own carriage, and ordered them 
 to be set down at their own door. This was not 
 the scheme of a political enemy. Major, but the 
 act of an honorable, compassionate man." 
 
 The Southerner's grasp relaxed. 
 
 "If you still believe that, because you are political 
 antagonists, you must be personal foes," she added, 
 'T will not ask you to shake hands; but, gentle- 
 men — " 
 
 The Major's weapon fell upon the grass at the 
 widow's feet with the Governor's saber across it. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE BOY AT THE SPRING 
 
 No account of the duel, to be blown about the 
 streets and into the secluded corners of private life, 
 came to the active gossips of the town. The Major 
 was silent, Pointer was a Sphynx, Governor Crance 
 held the secret, and the discreet widow put a hush-r 
 stamp upon the lips of the "Indian fighter." The 
 penetrative Willetts knew that something must hav^ 
 occurred, but he could get no farther than the 
 threshold of it; and there was but one thoroughly 
 disgusted man who had, either remotely or other- 
 wise, contributed to the affair — the farmer who had 
 furnished the Major with horses. Early next morn- 
 ing he sent a field hand to the railway station to gCi 
 a daily newspaper, being so anxious that he could 
 not wait for his regular budget, the weekly. He 
 even strode forth from his unfinished breakfast to 
 meet the man on the road. Seizing the paper he 
 
 191 
 
192 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 leaned against a tree, to give himself more comfort 
 in his expected enjoyment, and began to search 
 eagerly for the welcome news of the Carpetbagger's 
 death. His eye swept column after column; he 
 shifted his position and continued his search ; a pain- 
 ful look settled upon his face, and crumpling the 
 paper, he threw it upon the ground and stamped 
 upon it. 
 
 "Dave," said he, "I want you to go right up to 
 town this minute and fetch them horses back. But 
 come to the house first with me. I want to write 
 a letter to Reynolds." 
 
 He was but poorly equipped to express his feel- 
 ings with a pen, but his daughter was abundantly 
 able, having gone through a school taught by a 
 maiden lady of sour aspect; so she served as a trans- 
 mitter of the old man's wrath. "Sir," he began, 
 with instructions to make the word heavy and in- 
 sulting, "Sir, when a man tells me that he will do 
 a thing I expect him to do it. You have imposed 
 on me; you have obtained horses under false pre- 
 tenses. And I want to say that a man who would 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 193 
 
 SO work on my confiding nature is not much better 
 than a Carpetbagger. I made a speech in youi: 
 favor at the barbecue down on the bayou. I said 
 you were a man of the people, our redemption, and 
 so on. I would have swum a river to vote for you, 
 but the Lord forbid that I should do it now. You. 
 send me them horses as fast as you can. They 
 have never been known to balk, but there's no 
 telling what they will do after you have handled 
 them. Major, I know your father and I could not 
 have believed it of you. I did not know it was in 
 your blood to deceive a man at a time when it was 
 easy to work on his feelings. This is all I have got 
 to say, or ever will have to say to you. Send me 
 them horses." 
 
 The season had sobered and browned ; the flowers 
 were dead and the leaves on the fig-trees in the 
 gardens were dusty. The town was drowsy with 
 the heat, and many of the well-to-do folk had gone 
 to the springs in the hills, but the legislature was 
 still busy, or pretended to be, grinding out new 
 measures and repealing older ones. The season's 
 
194 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 first bale of cotton had come in — the premature ad- 
 vance of the coming crop, picked here and there in 
 the fields — and was hauled about town on a deco- 
 rated wagon, driven by a negro with the plume of 
 an iron weed in his hat, to the noise of a bell, vig- 
 orously rung by a boy who sat at the tail of the 
 vehicle. This was done every year, but it always 
 was an important event, cotton being the basis of all 
 prosperity and the fabric of antebellum aristocracy. 
 The merchant, hearing the bell, rushed to his door 
 to gaze out; the lawyers lounging about the court- 
 rooms left their musty proceedings to look from the 
 windows, and even the sprinkling cart, driven by 
 an '^oflficial" and therefore an unaccommodating 
 man, turned out that the cotton wagon might pass. 
 The election was drawing near and the wire- 
 workers were busy. News was daily brought in 
 from all parts of the state and every one looked 
 forward to the day of reckoning, sure to come. For 
 a time after the afifair beneath the magnolias in his 
 garden, the Governor kept himself more at home, 
 not that he was apprehensive of unusual danger, 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 195 
 
 for the word "fear" had been omitted from the 
 lexicon of his youth and had not been inserted in 
 the unabridged dictionary of his poHtical Hfe, but 
 because he appeared more than ever to worry under 
 the trials of office and the annoyances of the "log- 
 rollers" who daily beset him. Often they swarmed 
 about the house, knowing or feeling that his time 
 was short, and therefore hoping to push their selfish 
 schemes to fruition before his fall, but Jim turned 
 them away with the warning to stay away, as the 
 Governor was very busy. Occasionally at the cool- 
 ing end of the day, the old man would go out for a 
 quiet walk, choosing a way that led into the coun- 
 try. He took great pleasure in looking upon the 
 ripening crops. Sometimes, preserving a strict in- 
 cognito, he would walk beside a laborer, going 
 home from his toil, and would talk to him as one 
 who understood and sympathized. Once at a 
 spring by the roadside, he came upon a half-grown 
 boy, sitting thoughtfully upon a stone. The Gov- 
 ernor sat down and opened up a conversation with 
 him. 
 
 "Do you live far from here?" he asked. 
 
196 
 
 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Over yonder," the boy answered, rubbing his 
 sun-browned cheek. 
 
 "I suppose your folks are all interested in the 
 coming election?" 
 
 "I reckon so, but I don't pay much attention to 
 it. I'm trying to learn something, so I won't have 
 to dig in the ground all my lifetime." 
 
 "Ah," said the Governor, "that's laudable." 
 
 "It's what?" the boy asked. The Governor re- 
 peated the word and the youngster seemed to make 
 a mental note of it ; it had evidently struck his fancy 
 as a bit of learning, a bit of something that might 
 help to keep him from digging in the ground, and 
 he repeated it over and over to himself. After a 
 time, under the Governor's kindly inquiry, he be- 
 came communicative. He had walked into the 
 neighborhood, he said, looking for work, and had 
 engaged himself to a farmer. He hoped to get 
 enough money to take him through school during 
 the coming winter. His main trouble was that he 
 couldn't get the books he needed; there were no 
 books in the farmer's house. He had spent his last 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 197 
 
 penny for a worn history of the United States, wHich 
 he found in a shop in the city, and he was afraid 
 that he had gone beyond his means. 
 
 "How much does the farmer pay you?" the Gov- 
 ernor inquired. 
 
 The boy moved about uneasily on the stone. "I'm 
 afraid I didn't make a very good bargain," said he. 
 "I agreed to work a while and then let him fix the 
 price; but he hasn't said anything about it, and 
 whenever I mention it he always says 'there will be 
 time enough for that'." 
 
 "Where are you from?" the Governor asked. 
 
 The boy waved his hand. "From away off yon- 
 der." 
 
 "Have you any relatives living?" 
 
 "No, sir; my mother died a long time ago and 
 my father was killed in the army." 
 
 It was of little use to ask him which army. His 
 accent was of the South. "In what command?" the 
 Governor inquired. 
 
 "Second Alabama Cavalry." 
 
 The Carpetbagger started. One of the sabers thai 
 
198 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 he had taken out into the moonhght a few nights 
 before had belonged to a member of that command. 
 He asked no more questions, but somehow he fan- 
 cied that in the boy there was a resemblance of a 
 man whose dead hand had gripped one of those 
 swords. He looked far away, at the dusk of even- 
 ing, gathering low down beneath the trees in the 
 woods. "If you had money enough you could go 
 away and find a better place, couldn't you?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Yes, sir; but it won't do to think about that." 
 
 "I take you to be honest?" 
 
 "Honest?" the boy repeated, and the Governor 
 knew that his inquiry was answered. "Yes, sir, I 
 think I am. Without honesty there wouldn't be 
 much need for learning or anything else. No, sir; 
 I don't want anything that don't belong to me." 
 
 "My boy," said the Governor, "I am going to 
 help you." 
 
 "Will you?" he asked, brightening. "Have you 
 got any work for me to do?" 
 
 **No; but I have a little money and I am going 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 199 
 
 to give it to you." He took some bank notes out of 
 his pocket. "Here's forty dollars or so. Take it; 
 you are welcome to it." The boy got up, stagger- 
 ing, but he did not reach forth his hand. "Take it. 
 I think I knew your father — maybe not, but some- 
 thing strikes me that I did. Take it; it's yours." 
 The child did not move, but stood gazing at him. 
 "Take it and go North where work is more re- 
 spected. There is no hope for a community where 
 work is looked down upon." The Governor held 
 out the money again, but still the boy did not stir. 
 He seemed to be afraid — afraid, perhaps, that he 
 was dreaming and would soon awake to feel the 
 dread ache of disappointment. 
 
 "But I don't know you, sir," he finally managed 
 to stammer, "and perhaps it wouldn't be right for 
 me to—" 
 
 "Nonsense, my child ! You needn't have any fear. 
 It's all right. I am the Governor of this state." 
 
 The boy recoiled as if he had received a blow jn 
 the face. The glad light in his eyes died out. With- 
 out a word he turned around and walked rapidly 
 away. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 FACE TO FACE WITH HIMSELF 
 
 When he reached home, Jim was Hghting the 
 hanging lamp in the hall. The old negro shook his 
 head dubiously. It was not often that he ventured 
 to give advice to his master; but now he was em- 
 boldened to offer the opinion that it was imprudent 
 on the Governor's part to walk out alone and to 
 remain so long. The Carpetbagger smiled at the 
 negro's caution. "That's all right, Jim," said he. 
 "A man can't die till his time comes." 
 
 "I doan know 'bout dat, sah," Jim replied, shov- 
 ing the lamp up as high as he could reach and then 
 steadying the swinging chain. "I doan know 'bout 
 dat. He mout not die till his time come; but he 
 doan know how soon it gwine t' come, an' dar ain't 
 no use gwine outen yo' way t' 'vite it t' come." 
 
 The Governor passed on into the drawing room, 
 where dark portraits of long-forgotten faces, painted 
 
 200 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 201 
 
 by Strolling Frenchmen, hung shadov/y in the twi- 
 light. The house had not been built for an execu- 
 tive mansion, but was much more commodious than 
 those usually set apart by legislatures for such pur- 
 poses, having been the home of a very old family 
 the last member of which had perished in the war. 
 The estate was now in chancery, in more senses 
 than one, the Governor's enemies often declared. 
 He sat down near a window looking out across the 
 yard toward the street and mused upon the happy 
 and stately gatherings that must have been held in 
 that room when the old South ruled the nation. 
 There was one picture that had a fascination for 
 him, that of a young man on a horse, surrounded 
 by a group of negroes. It was a picture of the 
 olden time, and it told of a day whose sun was for- 
 ever set — a day that he himself had helped to go out, 
 not v/ith a lingering light of gold in the west, but to 
 grow dark and die in a cloud. What a contrast to 
 his own youth! How proud and happy was the 
 face of the boy, and how full of admiration were the 
 countenances of the negroes ! Jim came in to light 
 the chandelier. 
 
202 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "You needn't light up just yet," hastily inter- 
 posed the Governor. "I — I like the darkness. 
 Leave me alone." 
 
 Long he sat there rapt in meditation. The twi- 
 light shadows deepened about him. One by one the 
 pictures faded out and the walls grew black. Low 
 in the v/est a single star blazed fiercely just above 
 the tops of the dark magnolias, which seemed to 
 reach up- to the sky. 
 
 "Who lighted that star?" he asked aloud, and 
 started at the sound of his own voice. To his high- 
 wrought imagination it seemed like a friendly sig- 
 nal fire, a heavenly beacon-light set to shape the 
 wavering course of one who otherwise might go 
 astray. "It doesn't give much light," he solilo- 
 quized, "but a man doesn't need much light to steer 
 by if he really tries to go straight ahead." 
 
 Big Jim, perplexed and v/orried by the long con- 
 tinued silence in the darkened room, several times 
 opened the door slightly; but no voice bade him 
 enter and he softly withdrew in deeper anxiety than 
 ever, The Governor was fighting the battle of his 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 203 
 
 life. Shrouded by the kindly mantle of darkness 
 he was squaring accounts with his own soul and, 
 figure the problem as he would, he could not strike 
 an honorable trial balance except by crediting him- . 
 self with a sacrifice such as no man in his position 
 ever made before. It was a long, hard-fought 
 battle. When it was ended, the Governor's furrowed 
 cheeks were wet; but his personal accounts had been 
 balanced. 
 
 "Mistah Willetts wants t' see yo', sah," suddenly 
 announced Jim, evidently delighted by any legiti- 
 mate excuse to interrupt the long silence. It was 
 some time before the Governor made answer. When 
 at last he did so, there was an unwonted note of 
 firmness in his voice. 
 
 "Let him come in," he said. 
 
 "Shall I light up, sah?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 Willetts was greatly surprised when he found 
 himself thrust forward into a room which was pitch 
 dark save for a few straggling rays from a window 
 which merely served to accentuate the blackness on 
 either side. 
 
204 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "What are you doing?" he cried, familiarly. 
 "Playing 'Love in the Dark'?" 
 
 "Find a chair and sit down," said a stern voice 
 near the window. "Now, then, what do you want?" 
 
 "I called at the office several times this after- 
 noon. Governor, but didn't find you in," Willetts 
 began, "so I thought I'd run up for a few minutes 
 to-night." 
 
 There was no response, except an inarticulate 
 grunt from the darkness, which might have meant 
 anything or nothing. 
 
 "The election is drawing near," continued the 
 log-roller after a brief pause, "and the opposition is 
 putting up so hot a fight that we can't afford to 
 overlook a bet. It won't do to take any chances 
 this time. I've been talking the matter over with 
 some of the boys and we've rather agreed that the 
 safest way for us is to handle the voting right from 
 the start. A few soldiers stationed around each bal- 
 lot-box would make the matter easy enough for us. 
 Early in the day a few men ought to get shot — poor 
 white trash would probably fill the bill all right. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 205 
 
 Of course, we could show, you know, that there was 
 an attempt made to seize the ballot-box and that 
 the soldiers were forced to fire upon the mob to 
 preserve the purity of the elective franchise. The 
 effect would be immense." 
 
 Here Willetts slapped himself on the leg and 
 laughed uproariously, as if he were thoroughly en- 
 joying a good joke. But he had a monopoly of the 
 merriment. "Better look after this, right away," 
 he added, when his hilarity had subsided. "Have 
 Lummers draw up an order for the troops to- 
 morrow morning and start the ball rolling." 
 
 "And there's another matter, too," he went on. 
 "We must have a fair and square returning-board 
 to pass upon the election results. There is bound 
 to be a good deal of illegal voting and a great many 
 votes will have to be thrown out — some of the re- 
 turns probably will have to be suppressed entirely 
 — because of fraud, you understand. We've got 
 to have the right men on that board." 
 
 "Humph!" growled the Carpetbagger. Willetts 
 waited for him to say something further, but waited 
 in vain and at length resumed the topic himself. 
 
206 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 *The boys have gone over the whole ground 
 pretty completely," he said, "and we're rather de- 
 cided that Representative Felton would be a good 
 man for you to name. He owes his election to you 
 and he's after an appointment for his son-in-law, so 
 he could be relied upon to stand by us. Then, there 
 is Old Man Dabney. His seat is contested and he 
 wouldn't dare go back on us. And the boys insist 
 that I ought to take the third place myself. Per- 
 sonally, I'd rather have nothing to do with it, of 
 course, but they seem to have set their minds on it 
 and simply won't take 'no' for an answer. So I 
 finally have told them that in deference to their 
 wishes I'd waive my own feelings in the matter and 
 would — " 
 
 "Jim!" called the Governor. The door was flung 
 open instantly and a black giant stood framed in 
 the light. 
 
 "Yas, sah." 
 
 "Show Mr. Willetts out" 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 DRAWING HIM OUT 
 
 There was consternation in the camp of the Car- 
 petbaggers. Willetts had lost no time in passing the 
 word along the hne that trouble was brewing. A 
 caucus was hastily held in the gambler's rooms to 
 consider the situation and map out a plan of action. 
 
 "All I can say is that the old man is acting 
 queer," said Willetts, "and things begin to look 
 squally. I can't account for it," he added, "unless 
 he's gone wrong here," tapping his forehead sig- 
 nificantly. "He must know that he can't scuttle the 
 ship now without going down with us." 
 
 "It looks to me," said the Speaker of the House, 
 a large, bald man with a deep voice, ears that stood 
 out prominently and a nose that looked as if it 
 had often suffered from frost-bite, "it looks to me as 
 if Crance has struck something pretty good up 
 North and is preparing to pull up stakes here and 
 get out." 
 
 207 
 
208 
 
 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Well, if that's so," chimed in Willetts, "the 
 quicker we find it out the better." 
 
 "Why not plump it right at him?" suggested the 
 Secretary of State, a tall, spare man with small eyes 
 and a ministerial bearing. 
 
 "Good!" cried Willetts, with sarcastic emphasis. 
 "You do it. I've had one seance with him and I'm 
 through." 
 
 "We've got to get at him, some way, right off," 
 commented the Speaker. "Why not get up a little 
 dinner, invite him there and make him show his 
 hand?" 
 
 This struck the conferees as the most feasible 
 scheme, and, within a few hours, Governor Crance 
 received a cordial invitation to dine with several 
 gentlemen, that night, in one of the private ban- 
 queting rooms of the leading hotel. 
 
 The old Carpetbagger smiled. "No," he said, 
 "I'm not at all hungry." 
 
 "But," it was urged, "there are many things to 
 discuss before the election and a dinner party would 
 aflford an excellent opportunity for an exchange of 
 views." 
 
THE CARrETBAGGER 209 
 
 "Ah, that is a horse of another color," exclaimed 
 the Governor. "If that's what you want, come up 
 to the house to-night and take dinner with me." 
 And so the matter was settled. 
 
 Shortly after nightfall, the chief cogs of the carpet- 
 bag machine began to gather at the gubernatorial 
 mansion. The Governor met them at the door and 
 received them graciously. He shook hands with 
 them, laughed and chatted, as if the whole election 
 v/ere a huge joke and he the point of it all. Then 
 he bowed them into the old, black-walnut dining 
 room where the dinner was served. At the foot of 
 the table, opposite the Governor, sat Willetts. At 
 the Carpetbagger's right was the State Auditor. He 
 had been at the head of an insurance company, and 
 report said that he did not care to return to the 
 scene of his former operations. To him this life 
 was a game, and everything that he could lay 
 hands on without detection, and sometimes even 
 with it, was fairly won. He and the Governor had 
 been rather intimate, though of late they had been 
 seen less together, and it had been said by a member 
 
210 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 of the House that the Auditor had recently referred 
 to the "old man" as a "fool, juggling with his 
 chances." At the Governor's left sat a militia of- 
 ficer, resplendent in uniform and with a mild con- 
 tempt for all civilians. 
 
 The dinner started out stupidly, with low conver- 
 sation and the tip-toeing of servants. The talk was 
 mainly grunts and acquiescences, nods and more 
 grunts — the gathering of tired men, the half- 
 hearted feeding of feverish stomachs, the closing 
 scene of a long dissipation; but there is often an 
 enlivening revival at the end of a dull debauch, and 
 when the wine had been passed and tossed off time 
 after time there was more animation. The Gov- 
 ernor drank but little; he livened up, though, with 
 the rest and joined in the noisy talk. They could 
 hear Jim pacing slowly up and down the veranda. 
 Nellie and Roy peeped in at the door, Nellie seeing 
 the whole company, but the boy seeing nothing but 
 the militia officer. Rain was falling. They heard it 
 pattering on the dusty leaves. 
 
 "Has any one seen Old Man Reynolds since Jiis 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 211 
 
 release from jail?" asked the Speaker. The Gov- 
 ernor frowned over his wine; but the Speaker took 
 no notice of it. "I don't quite agree with you, 
 Governor, in that afifair," he added, with a laugh. 
 
 "The old man is innocent," the Governor replied. 
 
 "But how do you know?" the Secretary put in. 
 "The courts haven't decided and the whole case 
 floats in mid air. The authorities seem afraid to 
 touch it." 
 
 "It will probably always remain a mystery," said 
 the Auditor. 
 
 The Speaker did not think that it was a mystery. 
 Nearly everything rested upon evidence, he said, 
 and evidence was strong against the old man. 
 
 The Governor looked at him and his eye was as 
 searching as a camera, but he said nothing; he was 
 thinking of the boy whom he had seen at the 
 spring. 
 
 "The Northern papers have taken up the matter," 
 said the Speaker. "They say that if that's the way 
 we are going to reconstruct — " 
 
 "Drop it," the Governor broke in, ''Have some 
 more wine." 
 
212 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "But, really, Governor, it ought to be cleared up." 
 "It is cleared up, so far as that old man is con- 
 cerned," said the Governor. "I don't give a snap 
 for all the evidence you can bring." 
 
 The Speaker smiled. "Then what do you give a 
 snap for?" 
 
 "The truth, sir." 
 
 "Well, how are we going to get at it?" 
 "We have got it now; the old man told it." 
 Willetts objected. He yielded to no man in re 
 spect for Old John Reynolds, he said, but he be 
 lieved that sentiment should cut no figure in suet 
 a case. "Wiley Jones," he added, "was my friend 
 He did me many a good turn and I naturally feel hi^ 
 death very keenly. The only person who has even 
 been suspected of this crime is a free man to-day 
 and that, too, without establishing his innocence in 
 court. I do not say that Reynolds killed Jones — 
 what I believe doesn't matter, perhaps — but some- 
 body killed him. If the old man didn't, who did?" 
 Here the militia officer gave his opinion. All 
 civil courts were humbugs. If you want justice you 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 213 
 
 must go to the drum-head rather than to the bar. 
 Men who made money by deaHng out "justice" 
 were necessarily corrupt, or at least full of tricks, 
 the same as you would find it in any other business. 
 What the entire country needed was a military gov- 
 ernment. When was England greatest and most 
 feared by the nations of the earth? When the helm 
 of state was grasped by the iron hand of Cromwell. 
 The Secretary, being a lawyer b}' profession, took 
 issue with him. The Auditor, being an industrious 
 drinker, proposed a song. He said a song was more 
 convincing than an argument. The Speaker 
 thought that they ought to look seriously at the 
 coming political crisis. "The election is almost 
 here, you know." 
 
 "So it is,"" remarked the Governor. The Auditor 
 wanted to know whether or not all the judges had 
 been appointed and whether or not they could sing. 
 The Auditor was drunk. The Speaker hoped that 
 they might sing the right tune and in the right key. 
 He looked at the Governor, expecting him to say 
 something, but he did not. The Auditor began to 
 
214 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 sing. The Speaker called him to order. "Wait a 
 moment," he cried. "We are on a serious subject 
 now. You must remember that we've got a govern- 
 ment on our shoulders." 
 
 "You must want to be re-elected," said the Audit- 
 or. '*I don't care how it goes. I want to go back to 
 Wisconsin and catch some fish. Say, I've got a 
 place on a lake there that's full of fish — muskel- 
 longe as long as a barrel stave. Let's all sing 
 'Home, Sweet- — " 
 
 "Shut up; do be serious for a mom.ent, won't 
 you?" 
 
 "Oh, I've been serious long enough. I was shot 
 at the other day and that was serious enough. Gov- 
 ernor, that's good wine — must have found it in the 
 cellar here. Everybody sing." 
 
 The dinner was to have been a "business meet- 
 ing," but it seemed to be drifting away from its 
 original purpose. Why a militia officer, a stranger 
 who had no possible interest in their afifairs should 
 have been invited, the Speaker could not make clear 
 unto himself. It was to have been a political con- 
 ference, the discussion of vital interests, and why 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 215 
 
 the Governor was so free with his wine, the Sec- 
 retary could not make out. Formerly such occa- 
 sions had been feasts of state where important 
 matters were discussed and disposed of and the 
 heads of all the departments had been present to 
 receive advice and instruction. There may have 
 been songs, but no one would have dared to pro- 
 pose such a thing until the hour had grown too 
 mellow for business. The Governor would not only 
 have frowned upon it, but would have shut the 
 door upon the offender. Now he laughed when 
 the Auditor broke in upon every attempt to get 
 down to business. 
 
 Jim paced up and down the veranda, and Nellie 
 and Roy took an occasional peep into the dining 
 room, the boy, wide-eyed in admiration of the mi- 
 litia man. 
 
 "In this life, who is it that deserves success?" 
 said the Speaker. 
 
 Some one replied "the honest man," and there 
 was a good-humored laugh. All eyes were. turned 
 upon the Governor, but he did not even smile. 
 
216 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "The honest man may be incompetent," said the 
 Speaker. "Honesty isn't everything. Ability 
 stands at the head of all virtues, in my opinion. 
 Simple honesty may get one and one's friends into 
 trouble; therefore honesty may be dangerous. No, 
 sir; the man who plays his cards for all they are 
 worth is the man who ought to win — in a political 
 contest, for instance." He fixed his gaze on the 
 Governor, who sat dreaming in a cloud of smoke. 
 "I claim the man who is out for the stuff," said the 
 Speaker, "is the fellow who ought to succeed. It 
 is foolish for any one to throw away his own 
 chances. When he throws away the chances of his 
 friends, also, it is a crime." He fixed his gaze on 
 the Governor. 
 
 The chief executive brightened suddenly. *T was 
 out in the country to-day and I found excellent 
 prospects for the coming crop," said he. 
 
 "A crime, I repeat," said the Speaker. 
 
 "This rain comes in good time," the Governor 
 remarked, pufifing his cigar. 
 
 "We saw the crop planted, but who will witness 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 217 
 
 the harvesting thereof?" said the Secretary, and the 
 observation suited the gravity of his countenance. 
 
 "I don't think I shall," spoke up the Auditor, 
 unsteady of head. "I feel myself slipping." 
 
 "None of us need to slip if the right thing is 
 done," said the Speaker, significantly. 
 
 The Governor laid down his cigar and arose. 
 "Gentlemen," he quietly remarked, "as the hour is 
 growing late and you soon will have to leave us, 
 perhaps it might interest you to know before going 
 home that I have picked out the three members of 
 the returning-board, which v/ill pass upon the re- 
 sults of the forthcoming election." 
 
 A chorus of suppressed "Ahs" went up from 
 all sides of the table. 
 
 "The first man I have chosen," he continued, "is 
 Captain Jerome Pointer of Gum Springs." 
 
 "He's a Reynolds man!" shouted Willetts, ex- 
 citedly. 
 
 "The second," calmly proceeded the Carpet- 
 bagger, "is Prof. Willis Maynard, state superin- 
 tendent of public instruction." 
 
218 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 The diners looked at each other in blank amaze- 
 ment. "He isn't a poHtician, at all," exclaimed 
 the Secretary. "Shut up!" cried the Auditor, vainly 
 trying- to untangle his tongue. "If he's an office 
 holder you can bet he's all right." 
 
 "And the third is a gentleman whom you all 
 know and respect — Rev. Jacob Williams of the First 
 Baptist church of this city." 
 
 Pandemonium broke loose in a moment. Amid 
 the babel the Governor stood, smiling, until com- 
 parative quiet was restored. Then he raised his 
 hand with a commanding gesture. "Gentlemen," 
 he said, "I must now bid you good-night." Growl- 
 ing, muttering and cursing, the little party broke up 
 in great confusion. There was no form.al leave- 
 taking. 
 
 At the door the Governor touched the militia 
 ofiicer's sleeve. *'Wait," he said. A few moments 
 later, when they were alone, the Carpetbagger 
 handed the officer a fresh cigar and lighted one for 
 himself. "Colonel," he said, "to-morrow you will 
 receive from the Adjutant General your orders con- 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 219 
 
 cerning the disposition of troops at the polls. That 
 there may be no misunderstanding I want to sup- 
 plement those orders now by a few verbal instruc- 
 tions. You will detail two men for service at each 
 polling place. You will instruct them to preserve 
 order and prevent all demonstrations. You will 
 also instruct them not to approach within a radius 
 of three hundred feet from the ballot boxes. And 
 you will order them to arrest any man who in any 
 way, directly or indirectly, seeks to interfere with 
 the right of every citizen to cast his vote as he 
 pleases. Do you understand?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; but—" 
 
 "You may omit the 'but'. There is no 'but' in 
 this order. And if it is not carried out to the letter 
 I shall hold you personally responsible. Do you 
 understand that?" 
 
 The Colonel gave a formal military salute. "I 
 always obey orders from headquarters," he said, as 
 he arose to go. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE GOVERNOR MEETS THE "bAD MAN " 
 
 Many a wise man has given himself over to the 
 study of his own conscience, surprising himself with 
 its many phases and unexpected complexions. And 
 he who buffets the world and has in turn been 
 buffeted by it, finds himself gazing into a kaleido- 
 scope when he turns his eye inward ; the colors may 
 not be bright, but the shapes are many. It is hard 
 for the honest man to find that he himself is disinter- 
 estedly honest. At one moment he may believe 
 that he is so, but the fragments that go to make up 
 his conscience tumble apart, readjust themselves 
 and lo, there is a complete change. Honesty has its 
 degrees, its morning, noon and night phases; but 
 there is one quality in man that undergoes no 
 change, a quality superior to conscience or honesty, 
 — honor. 
 
 This train of thought was running through the 
 
 220 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 221 
 
 Governor's mind as he strolled slowly along a 
 street in the residential part of the town. He argued 
 that honor might stray off like a deer, to feed upon 
 rich pastures in a strange land, and still like the 
 deer, it might come back again to nibble the short 
 grass of its native hill-side. He heard the talking 
 of children, and halted to look at two little girls, 
 playing in the corner of a fence. On the fence 
 sat a boy, compassionately, and yet with a con- 
 temptuous sense of his superiority, looking down 
 upon them. There were a number of dolls on 
 diminutive chairs, little things made bright with 
 ribbons and lace; and a short distance off, in a sort 
 of pen made of bricks and stone, there was a hideous 
 monster of a rag doll, with great charcoal eyes 
 and a mouth of frightful width. It was a "man- 
 doll," with a bull neck, an unsightly paunch and 
 knock-knees. On his head he wore horns, made of 
 the long thorns from a locust tree. The Governor 
 spoke kindly and the girls looked up smilingly at 
 him. 
 
 "You have a very pretty house and are very neat 
 housekeepers," he said. 
 
222 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "It would be nice, but everything is upside down, 
 now," said the larger of the girls. **We have so 
 much trouble." 
 
 "With our young friend up here?" said the Gov- 
 ernor, nodding at the boy. 
 
 "Oh, no, with the old 'Bad Man'," she replied. 
 
 "The 'Bad Man'?" 
 
 "Yes, there he is," and she pointed to the doll in 
 the pen. 
 
 Then the younger child spoke. "He's all the 
 time coming in and tryin' to take the little ones 
 away. See the hair coming out of Lillie's head?" 
 she added, pointing to a doll that was losing its 
 yellow wool. "Well, he did that when we wasn't 
 lookin'. He's the meanest thing." 
 
 "Why don't you have him killed?" the Governor 
 asked, and the boy snorted, 
 
 "He can't be killed," replied the larger girl. "He 
 has been shot oh, so many times ; but it don't make 
 no difiference to him. He don't mind it at all. He 
 eats bullets and powder and smacks his mouth and 
 wants more." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 223 
 
 '*Ho," said the boy, "I could rip him all to pieces 
 in a minute." 
 
 This was a brutal piece of iconoclasm, and the 
 larger girl resented it. "Now what do you want to 
 talk that way for, Billie. You are all the time 
 tryin' to break up everything. I wish you'd go 
 home." 
 
 "You call the old fellow over there the 'Bad 
 Man'," said the Governor. "Hasn't he any other 
 name?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," replied the child. "His other name is 
 'Governor Crance'." 
 
 The Carpetbagger winced. He not only saw the 
 abhorrence in which he was held in the present, 
 but saw himself in the future, pictured as a beast. 
 These children, in the years to come, would tell 
 their grandchildren of the monster who once made 
 his den in the state house. The strong man may 
 defy the opinion held to-day, for he can confront 
 a charge and frown upon it; but he may neverthe- 
 less be afraid of the opinion forming, mist-like, 
 away off yonder in the unnamed days to come. 
 
224 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 There he cannot defend himself, and his helpless 
 descendants must bear the odium of his misdeeds. 
 The Governor, with his arm.s resting on the fence, 
 and with an occasional look at the "Bad Man" in 
 the pen, the thing now having a sort of fascination 
 for him, mused over the little girls, knowing them 
 to be ignorant that the namesake of their rag- 
 ruffian v/as so near, 
 
 "But is this Governor Crance such a very bad 
 man?" he asked. 
 
 "Awful," said the larger girl. 'They have to 
 watch him all the time. He goes out when the 
 nights are dark and steals sheep, and he drags them 
 into his den and sucks their blood out and then 
 throws 'em away. And one night when an old man 
 sat counting his money, a hand came in at the 
 windov/ and grabbed the money and the old man 
 grabbed the hand, for it was all the money he had 
 and he didn't know where to get any more ; but the 
 hand wouldn't let go, and neither would the old 
 man, so he was dragged away out in the woods. 
 And the next morning they found him in a sink 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 225 
 
 hole, with one of his hands cut off, and that day a 
 man saw Governor Crance go to the window of the 
 awful place where he stays and throw a hand out 
 in the yard." 
 
 "Yes," the younger girl spoke up, "and when 
 he blows his breath at a cow she can't give any more 
 milk; and my uncle he had a cow and Governor 
 Crance blov/ed his breath at her, and she couldn't 
 give a drop of milk. She tried, and tried, but she 
 couldn't." 
 
 The boy snorted. "Ho," he said, "I'd put a hole 
 through him if he was to come blowin' his breath 
 around any of my cows." 
 
 "You are awful brave, ain't you?" said the older 
 girl, half tauntingly, and yet with the light of ad- 
 miration in her eyes. 
 
 "I'm brave enough to put a hole through him," 
 the boy rephed, shaking his head; "and when I get 
 big I'm going to do it, whether he blows his breath 
 at my cows or not." 
 
 "If you shoot at him," said the smaller girl, '*he'll 
 catch the powder and throw it back at you." 
 
 The boy shouted. "Ho, catch the powder! Who 
 
226 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 ever heard of catching powder! Girls don't know a 
 thing, do they, Mister? Ho, catch the powder. 
 You mean bullet." 
 
 "Well," she said, "it don't make any difference 
 what he would catch, he'd catch it just the same, 
 and he'd throw it back at you and kill you with it." 
 
 "How long since Brother Crance over there 
 broke out?" the Governor asked, nodding at the 
 rag-ruffian. The younger girl looked at the older 
 one as if this were an important matter and should 
 be answered after due deliberation. 
 
 "Yesterday," said the older girl. "Some visitors 
 came, and while we were talkin' to 'em, v/e heard 
 a screamin' and a loud bellov/, and when we ran 
 in here, the old 'Bad Man' had choked Mollie and 
 Jennie nearly to death and had pulled Lillie's hair 
 till she was blue in the face. It was all we could do 
 to get him out, and as soon as we shut him up, he 
 said he wanted a sheep to eat, a great, big, whole 
 sheep; but we wouldn't give him a poor sheep that 
 never did an3^body any harm, so he's hungry yet, 
 and we don't care if he starves to death." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 227 
 
 On the opposite side of the street, not far away, 
 there was a refreshment booth presided over by a fat 
 German. The Governor asked the children if they 
 would like to go over with him and eat ice cream. 
 The boy tumbled off the fence, and the faces of the 
 girls brightened. They went with him, the girls 
 hanging to his arms, and the boy proudly marching 
 in front as if he had inspired the expedition. When 
 they sat down at a table the Governor told them that 
 the entire establishment was theirs if they wanted 
 it. They had liked him at first; now they were en- 
 chanted by him. The smaller girl gazed into his 
 eyes and said that they were like her own grandpa's, 
 always trying to laugh at something. 
 
 "What is your name?" the older girl asked. 
 
 "My name," said the Governor, with his eye on 
 the proprietor, now bestirring himself in the execu- 
 tion of an order, "why, you may call me Mr. Old- 
 fellow." 
 
 "What a funny name," cried the younger girl. 
 "But you ain't funny. You are the bestest sort of a 
 man, and I'm going to think of you when you are 
 
228 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 not here, and when my uncle is Governor in place 
 of the bad man that's there now, I'm goin' to make 
 him give you a big dinner and all the people will be 
 there and you'll be glad." 
 
 "Your uncle?" said the Governor. "What is his 
 name? Not — er, Major Reynolds?" 
 
 "Ah, ha. He's my uncle, and when he's Gov- 
 ernor — " 
 
 "Let us have all the different kinds of cake you 
 have," said the Governor, breaking in upon her as 
 the proprietor came near. "Yes, bring us every- 
 thing you've got. Cover the table." 
 
 "Ain't he good!" cried the older girl. 
 
 The proprietor shrugged his heavy shoulders. 
 "I vould say he vos. Und you don'd know who vas 
 doin' all deese, hah? It vas nod everypody dat had 
 ice cream und cake bought by de Gof — " 
 
 The Carpetbagger lifted his hand. "Don't," he 
 said. 
 
 The proprietor understood and bowed as he went 
 back to where his wife stood wiping dishes. ^'A 
 man vot can ketch de leetle ones, like dot," he re- 
 marked, "can't be so bat in de heart." 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 FOOD FOR SCANDAL 
 
 When the feast was done, the Governor bade his 
 little friends good-bye, the smaller eirl putting up 
 her lips to be kissed, and strode full of thought 
 along the street. He pictured the horrified change 
 that would have spread over the faces of the chil- 
 dren had the German told them that it was the 
 Carpetbagger who had ordered the feast. He could 
 see the boy scampering off, to save himself, and 
 could hear the two girls begging for mercy. "And 
 this is America," he soliloquized. He passed along 
 by the post-office, still musing, with no thought 
 for the scenes about him, when he was called out of 
 the depths by a soft voice at his side. He looked up 
 and a flush flew to his face as he met the gaze of the 
 widow Fairburn. She had just come out of the 
 post-office, for she had a letter and a newspaper in 
 her hand. 
 
230 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 The Governor was surprised, not indeed to find 
 her there, for everyone went to the post-office, but 
 surprised that she should speak to him where every 
 eye could see her, where every look would be a 
 reproach. lie bowed to her, halting thoughtfully 
 to let her pass on, and murmured something which 
 sounded like "delighted to see you. Madam." But 
 she did not go; she stood face to face with him, 
 looking with frankness into his eyes, and though 
 he turned neither to the right nor to the left, yet he 
 knew that the passers-by were casting reproachful 
 glances upon her. It was embarrassing; he would 
 not thus expose her to the censure of her friends. 
 Bowing again, he moved off and was surprised to 
 find that she was walking beside him. True they 
 were neighbors and had talked across the fence; 
 they were more than neighbors, for she had given 
 him a rose,and one eveninghehad walked homewitli 
 her, bidding her good-night at the door of her 
 house; but she had never invited him to enter that 
 house, had never encouraged him to recognize her 
 when they met by chance in the street. Many a 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 231 
 
 time she had passed without raising her eyes, with- 
 out even showing by her countenance that she 
 knew he was near. So, what could be the meaning 
 of this bold recognition? He slackened his pace to 
 let her walk on, and she walked slower; he quick- 
 ened his steps to pass her, and she moved along be- 
 side him. 
 
 "Mrs, Fairburn," he exclaimed, hastily, "hav« 
 you forgotten that I — ? Don't you know that yout 
 friends will—?" 
 
 "Yes, I know," she replied. "But there are con- 
 siderations higher than the approval of friends. A 
 duty can sometimes be so strong and imperative as 
 to put every friend in the background." 
 
 "I don't understand, Mrs. Fairburn." He 
 glanced at her and saw her eyes, full of a soft light, 
 turned toward him. 
 
 "Governor, I heard something about you yester- 
 day, and I determined then that I would thank you, 
 no matter where I might meet you or who might be 
 displeased." 
 
 ''Heard something? Well, you can't always be^ 
 licve ^vhat you hear, you know." 
 
232 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "But I can believe what I heard yesterday. I 
 know that you have turned over to a committee of 
 our citizens — men whose honesty cannot be ques- 
 tioned — two hundred thousand dollars to found an 
 orphan asylum for the state. I want to thank you." 
 
 "No; let me thank you," he replied. 
 
 She caught her breath, and they walked some 
 distance before another word was spoken. "Our 
 roads lie in the same direction," she said. They 
 were going toward home. 
 
 "I hope that our paths may never cross," he re- 
 plied, without looking at her, and they walked on 
 a long distance without speaking. 
 
 "Mrs. Fairburn," he said, at length, "a conscience 
 encouraged to clear itself of a weight, ought to feel 
 thankful. I know one that does." 
 
 "Governor," replied the widow, "the seed of 
 reformation lies in the soil of every conscience." 
 
 "Ah, but it may not sprout till water is gently 
 poured upon it. Then let that conscience thank the 
 hand that poured the water. Mrs. Fairburn, a con- 
 science is sometimes a sort of Central Africa and 
 has not within it the germ of self-civilization." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 233 
 
 They were now at the gate. She halted and after 
 a few moments' silence, said: "Won't you — won't 
 you come in?" Had it cost her an effort? He 
 thought so, and hesitated. 
 
 "Do — er- — do you mean it?" 
 
 "I never say things that I do not mean." 
 
 He stepped in at the gate, she beside him, and 
 silently walked along the paved pathway that led 
 up to the steps of the old mansion. There were 
 rocking chairs on the veranda, but she did not ask 
 him to sit down there^; she led him into the old- 
 fashioned parlor where there was a cool, sweet smell. 
 He glanced about the room, so full of the wasteful 
 richness of the past: the heavy furniture brought 
 from foreign lands, paintings from Italian walls, and 
 an old grand piano which once had been the marvel 
 of the community. The Governor fancied that he 
 could almost smell the music in it, and he sat down, 
 with his mind on the wheezing melodeon in the 
 cheerless "best room" of the farm-house where he ' 
 had lain, cold and miserable, "up chamber," listen- 
 ing to a tune that was intended as praise to the 
 Lord. 
 
234 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "I used to think that all the sv/eet tunes came 
 like a perfume from the South," he said. "And they 
 seemed to come of a summer evening, just after a 
 rain." 
 
 "Why, Governor," she said, with brightening 
 eyes, "you are really sentimental. Your old home 
 must still be warm in your heart." 
 
 He shook his head. "My heart could have made 
 a home warm, but I had no home." He looked 
 through the window at the whitewashed negro 
 cabins in the distance. ''Out there they used to 
 sing and dance at night," he said ; "but with us there 
 was no song. We worked so hard that when dark- 
 ness came we dropped down to sleep; and, even on 
 Sunday, the sun shining through the roof was some- 
 times a mockery of freedom, calling upon us to get 
 up and work with the cattle. But it was a great 
 luxury to lie in bed till after the sun had come up, 
 and it could not be hoped for except on Sunday." 
 
 Her eyes were full of sympathy. "I remember 
 an old song," he went on, slowly rocking in the 
 soft chair. "Something about the 'Yellow Rose of 
 Texas'. Won't you sing it for me?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 235 
 
 She went to the piano and the first note she 
 touched sent a thrill through him. Her voice was 
 low and rich, suited, he thought, to the paintings on 
 the wall. He forgot his office, forgot the war, the 
 blood shed by brothers. In the world there was 
 nothing but melody. He did not know when she 
 ceased to sing but, looking through a mist, he saw 
 that she had turned upon the stool and was facing 
 him. He had not dreamed enough, had not for- 
 gotten enough of the war and of the blood of the 
 son on the shirt of the father. "Sing again," he 
 whispered, leaning back in his chair, "Sing an old 
 tune — something so gentle and peace-loving that 
 it did not dare to lift its head during our storm." 
 
 She understood him. She knew that he was try- 
 ing to forget, that he found a sweetness in putting 
 a blight on the present. Again and again she sang 
 and he floated away in a warm sea of melody. The 
 tavern bells clanged the hour for supper. He got 
 up and held out his hand. "I want to thank you 
 for one of the happiest days of my life." She 
 smiled as she took his hand, and something in that 
 
236 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 smile told him that she was sorry for him, nothing 
 more. Had it not been for that pitying- smile he 
 might have said something that had crept into his 
 heart, but now he drove it out almost resentfully. 
 
 The command of "guide, right," came from the 
 street and, looking out, they saw a company of mi- 
 litia passing. It had all come back now — the mem- 
 ory of the war, the adventure on the one hand and 
 the insult of the Reconstruction period on the other. 
 
 "Yes," he repeated, "a very enjoyable time. I 
 wish you good-evening, Madam." 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE MAJOR FILES AN OBJECTION 
 
 Later in the evening, when the swallows had 
 ceased to skim through the dusky air, the card of 
 Major Reynolds was brought in to Mrs. Fairburn. 
 She greeted him warmly when he came into the 
 room, telling him how glad she was that he had 
 called, and added that he had almost forgotten her 
 during the push and struggle of the campaign. 
 When a lamp had been lighted and she could see 
 his face, however, she knew that something must 
 have gone amiss, and she remembered then that he 
 had said nothing since he sat down stiffly. 
 
 *'The campaign will soon be over," she said. 
 "And then, of course, I shall see no more of you." 
 
 He turned his eyes upon her ; a frown was traced 
 upon his brow. "Has anything gone wrong, 
 Major?" 
 
 He cleared his throat. "Decidedly, Madam." 
 
 "Indeed! May I ask what it is?" 
 
 237 
 
238 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "You shall know. A few moments ago, while in a 
 drug store, I was deeply grieved to hear that you 
 had been seen in front of the post-office, talking to 
 Governor Crance; that you had not only encour- 
 aged him to talk to you, but that you permitted him 
 to walk home with you. I said that it could not be 
 true; I could not believe it." 
 
 "But you must have believed it, Major. Your 
 face and the tone of your voice tell me that you did 
 believe it." 
 
 "Ah, but your face and the tone of your voice 
 tell me that it is all a mistake," he replied. 
 
 "It is true," she said. 
 
 "You acknowledge it?" 
 
 "If it's true, why shouldn't I acknowledge it?" 
 
 ''Ah, but why should it be true? How could you 
 so scandalize your state and your family? I ask 
 you that. How could you?" 
 
 "Major," she said, slowly, "a good man deserves 
 little credit for doing right. It is his nature to do 
 so. But one who for any reason has gone astray 
 deserves a great deal of credit if he makes an honest 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 239 
 
 effort to reform. Such a man deserves our sym- 
 pathy. He deserves something more than our sym- 
 pathy; he commands our aid, our support, our 
 grateful recognition." 
 
 "If you are going to defend him I will not stay 
 to—" 
 
 "Wait. I am not defending the past record of 
 Governor Crance. I know that he represents a bad 
 cause. But I cannot shut my eyes to the fact that 
 of late he has done deeds meet for repentance." 
 
 "But think of yourself/' the Major insisted. "And 
 consider who he is and what he represents. Think 
 of your standing in this community. Alice, I have 
 known you all my life and I speak to you with an 
 authority of long friendship. I know the goodness 
 of your heart, but you must not allow it to blind 
 your judgment or to mislead your discretion. You 
 are rich, honored, respected; he is poor, despised, 
 reviled and it is believed that to gain a political ad- 
 vantage he has not hesitated to put an unspeakable 
 outrage upon my family." 
 
 "You don't believe it. Major," cried Mrs. Fair- 
 
240 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 burn, hastily. "You know it isn't true. Have you 
 forgotten that night among the magnoHas? Has 
 the memory of that man's generosity faded from 
 your mind?" 
 
 The tall Southerner winced. "I am willing," he 
 said, "to give him full credit for everything that — " 
 
 *'Then, why should not I? I believe — I have 
 good reason to believe — that this man whom you 
 despise is not a bad man at heart, but a victim ol 
 circumstances and environment. That he has done 
 wrong I grant, but I know he is capable of better 
 things. You and I, Major, should make it easy, 
 not make it difficult, for him to reform. He has 
 turned over to a committee two hundred thousand 
 dollars to — " 
 
 "Yes, I've heard of that," broke in the Major, 
 impetuously, "and it's well enough in its way. But 
 where did he get the money? Whose money is it? 
 Did he bring it here with him? Did he save it out 
 of his salary? Didn't the money belong to the 
 state? And if so, has he done so virtuous a thing 
 in—" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 241 
 
 "Yes, he has, Major. It shows that he is trying 
 to make amends. It shows that he is not lost to 
 honesty and to honor." 
 
 "AHce," he said, ''I have always held you up as 
 the model woman of the South — the model woman 
 of the World. But I cannot approve of your action 
 to-day. A thief may be repentant, and may do 
 good, but we must not lose sight of the fact that 
 he has been a thief." 
 
 "There once was a thief on a cross," remarked 
 the widow. 
 
 **Yes," replied the Major, "and in my opinion he 
 has done more real harm in the world than all other 
 thieves combined. He is the emblem of eleventh 
 hour repentance." 
 
 She was shocked and did not hesitate to tell him 
 so. He had presumed to question the wisdom and 
 the mercy of the Son of Man, and she thought him 
 little better than a blasphemer. He bowed his head 
 under her rebuke and apologized, acknowledging 
 that it was sinful of him, and hoped that she would 
 forget it. 
 
242 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "1 may have been indiscreet," she said, "but I 
 did what I thought was right." A brightening 
 change spread over the Major's countenance. *'Now 
 you are the girl I knew so well years ago," said he. 
 "And really, Alice, I can't see that you have grovv'n 
 any older." 
 
 They heard Roy in the hall, commanding a col- 
 umn of imaginary soldiers. "Doesn't that sound 
 like it?" she said. "Doesn't a son large enough to 
 command an army make me seem older?" 
 
 "Not a bit," he maintained. Taking her by the 
 hand, he said: "Come, sing something for me. 
 There is not a voice in the world that pleases me as 
 yours does. Sing 'Lorena'." 
 
 She sang for him and he stood beside her, with 
 his mind in the past, the bright and careless days of 
 his youth. He heard the banjo's ring and caught 
 the glow of the Christmas fire in the cabin. Again 
 he was borne in triumph upon the shoulders of a 
 black giant, held up to be worshipped as the com- 
 ing master. Ah, how different from the past 
 brought back by the Carpetbagger! 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 243 
 
 The Major did not ask her to sing again A^hen 
 the song was ended. He led her gently to a chair, 
 and when she had sat down, giving him a smile 
 which, as much as the song, spoke of old days, he 
 took a seat near her and looked into her eyes till 
 she colored under his gaze. 
 
 "Alice," he began, "you know my history as well 
 if not better than I could tell it to you. You know 
 why I never married." She looked at him and 
 slowly nodded as the past came back to her — the 
 mourning of a neighborhood for a girl thrown from 
 a horse and killed. One week from the time when 
 she lay, amid the blossoms and the roses of April, 
 young Reynolds was to have led her to his father's 
 house. It was a hard blow and his friends feared 
 that his reason had been shaken. With a physician 
 he had roamed in foreign lands, and for years after 
 his return, lived as one to whom life was a heavy 
 load. She remembered it all, and her eyes were 
 soft as she looked upon him. It was the first time 
 he had ever alluded to his bereavement. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "I know." 
 
244 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 ''Time has mellowed that sorrow into something 
 sweet," he remarked, almost in a whisper. Then he 
 was silent, leaving her to wonder why he had 
 brought back that part of the past. 
 
 "Alice." 
 
 "Yes, Major." 
 
 He took her hand as he had taken it years ago, 
 on their way to school, to help her across a rivulet — 
 he took her hand and held it, still looking into her 
 eyes. 
 
 "In the years that are gone, there was no ro- 
 mance between us." 
 
 "No, Major. We were always good friends." 
 
 Slowly she began to withdraw her hand from his, 
 but he held it. "Of late, after all these years, I 
 have thought that we might be more to each other. 
 We both have looked upon withered roses ; we have 
 breathed their perfume in the chamber of death; 
 but roses are for the living as well as the dead." 
 
 "Major, I don't — don't quite understand," she 
 said, withdrawing her hand, but without taking her 
 eyes from his. "Roses for the living? Yes, they 
 are planted and cared for by the living." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 24o 
 
 "Ah, and they should be enjoyed by the living. 
 At my house there is a wilderness of them, without 
 a mistress." 
 
 "And my garden Is full of them," she said. 
 
 "Yes, but they have no master." 
 
 "The rose needs neither a master nor a mistress," 
 she replied. "It needs but one true servant, — Sen- 
 timent." 
 
 "Alice, I could esteem no one so much as I do 
 you. I believe that a new career is opening for me, 
 and alone, it would be but half a career. Will you 
 not share it with me? Don't answer impulsively. 
 Don't ansv/er now. But when I am Governor, I 
 shall ask you to be my wife." 
 
 He arose to take his leave. She went to the door 
 with him, and as they stood there in a silence, full 
 of meaning for both, they heard the merry laughter 
 of Nellie and Roy, off somewhere in the perfume of 
 night. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 A FADED ROSE 
 
 One afternoon a few days before the election 
 Governor Crance was busily engaged in clearing up 
 the business of his office when Mrs. Fairburn's 
 
 card was brought in. 
 
 "I know you are very busy, Governor," she said, 
 a moment later, as she entered the room with a 
 smile and a word of friendly greeting, "but I hope 
 you will pardon this intrusion. I want to see you 
 about a matter in which I know we both are deeply 
 interested," 
 
 "It would be impossible, Madam, for you to in- 
 trude upon me," replied the Governor, warmly. 
 "You are always welcome and I am entirely at your 
 service." 
 
 "Thank you," she said. "I will detain you only 
 a moment. I have here a message which I am 
 going to deliver to Old Mrs. Reynolds and I would 
 
 246 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 247 
 
 like to talk with you about the case as it now stands 
 against her husband, before I see her." 
 
 "Let me send up the message for you," suggested 
 the Governor. 
 
 "Thank you; but I don't feel Hke troubling you 
 to that extent." 
 
 "Nonsense!" cried the Carpetbagger. "Here, 
 Lummers. Take this note up to the Reynolds plan- 
 tation. If there is an answer, wait for it." He took 
 a letter from the widow's hand and hurried the sec- 
 retary off, glad to have an opportunity to talk with 
 his fair visitor alone. 
 
 "Governor," she began, as soon as the footsteps 
 of Lummers died away, "I fully appreciate the no- 
 bility of character you have displayed toward Major 
 Reynolds in this campaign and I beHeve I under- 
 stand all that this course has cost you. I want to 
 thank you for what you have done. Few men in 
 any walk of life ever were called upon to make so 
 heavy a sacrifice for the right as you have made. 
 And few would have had sufficient moral courage 
 to do it. The election, of course, rested absolutely 
 
248 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 in your own hands. When you decided that the 
 troops should not be used to intimidate our voters 
 at the polls, when you named a non-partisan return- 
 ing board and declared that every vote honestly cast 
 should be honestly counted, you elected your polit- 
 ical opponent and deliberately defeated yourself. 
 No general upon the field of battle ever won a 
 greater victory." 
 
 The Carpetbagger made no reply. He gazed 
 fixedly out of the window, though he saw nothing 
 there. 
 
 "Major Reynolds," she went on, "already is 
 elected. There can be no question on that point. 
 The balloting will be merely the ratification of a 
 result already known. Governor, I am anxious that 
 the case against Old Mr. Reynolds should be settled 
 while you still remain in office. You can readily 
 understand why, I am sure." 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. Fairburn," quietly replied the Gov- 
 ernor, "I think I do. The legal vindication of Old 
 Mr. Reynolds at this time would remove a stain, 
 however undeserved, from the name of my sue- 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 249 
 
 cessor. My detectives already have instructions to 
 do everything in their power to clear this matter up 
 at once, I am more than willing to do this; I want 
 to do it. You may rest assured that I shall do 
 everything I can for Major Reynolds, for I know 
 that what I do for him I do for you." 
 
 The widow started slightly and a faint suggestion 
 of a blush glowed upon her cheeks. 
 
 "I — I — am afraid I don't quite understand you," 
 she said. 
 
 The Governor faced her squarely. "Oh, yes you 
 do," he responded firmly. "I know that the elec- 
 tion of Major Reynolds will bring him a far greater 
 honor than the governorship of this state. I under- 
 stand that; and it's all right." 
 
 It was now Mrs. Fairburn's turn to remain silent. 
 She nervously fingered some letters upon the desk 
 before her, but made no attempt to speak. 
 
 "Mrs. Fairburn," continued the Carpetbagger, 
 after an awkward pause, "though this is not the last 
 time, I hope, that T shall see you, it may be the last 
 opportunity I shall have to say something to you 
 
260 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 that I must say before I go back to Chicago. 
 Throughout the city, even now, you will meet little 
 bands of marchers celebrating the election of Major 
 Reynolds in advance of the returns. You will hear 
 them shout for 'home rule' and 'honesty in elec- 
 tions,* and you will hear them hoot at the Carpet- 
 bag regime. There speaks Mississippi. And I want 
 you to know that if the state is benefited by my 
 overthrow, she is your debtor to that extent, for 
 you did it." 
 
 "No, no," hastily interposed the widow. "You 
 must not say that." 
 
 "Why not? It's the truth; and I want you to 
 know it. During all the . weary months I have 
 been here only one woman in the whole state of 
 Mississippi has ever spoken to me in kindness — just 
 one. Only one has ever held out to me any incen- 
 tive to do better, any thought of responsibility or 
 any hope for the future. This is your work, Madam. 
 The credit for it is yours, not mine." 
 
 He arose and strode moodily up and down the 
 room several times. Suddenly he stopped before 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 251 
 
 her. "Do you see that face upon the wall?" he 
 demanded, pointing to an old oil portrait of An- 
 drew Jackson. "Do you know the platform upon 
 which he stood? He was a Southerner; do you 
 know what he taught us of the North? To the 
 victors,' he said, 'belong the spoils'. That was his 
 political creed; when I came here, I made it mine, 
 and for me 'spoils' meant 'plunder'. Don't tell me 
 that this was wrong. I know it now. But I didn't 
 know it then and I might never have known it at 
 all but for you." 
 
 Mrs. Fairburn evidently was moved. "I can't 
 let you talk like that," she said. "You are the one 
 who deserves all credit for what has been done and 
 this is particularly true because I know you have 
 been actuated by no thought of yourself, no hope 
 of reward." 
 
 "No; you're wrong," interposed the Governor. 
 "All our acts, I think, are based on selfishness. I 
 have hoped for a reward, Mrs. Fairburn. I want 
 your esteem." 
 
 "Esteem is no just reward. Governor, for what 
 you have done. You deserve far more than — " 
 
252 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "I deserve nothing — nothing that my conscience 
 doesn't give me. Mississippi to-day has every dol- 
 lar I ever took from her wrongfully — and more. 
 And I don't feel like a repentant thief, either. I 
 believed I was right. I thought I could stand 
 safely on the platform laid down by that idol of the 
 South, Old Hickory himself. It was a mistake. 
 Jackson's platform never was a license to plunder; 
 I know it now." 
 
 "You have acted nobly — grandly!" cried Mrs. 
 Fairburn, with genuine admiration beaming from 
 her eyes. 
 
 "I am going back to Chicago, Mrs. Fairburn," 
 continued the Carpetbagger, slowly and with evi- 
 dent emotion, "to begin the fight all over again — 
 the battle of life. I'm not afraid of the future at 
 all. That will take care of itself. I have abandoned 
 political life without a regret; I have beggared my- 
 self without a protest; I have turned over this com- 
 monwealth to Major Reynolds without a contest. 
 Hate me if you want to ; despise me if you will ; but 
 I can't go back to Chicago — and I won't — without 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 253 
 
 telling you that, if I felt in my heart that I were 
 worthy of you, I'd fight the whole state of Miss- 
 issippi to a standstill before I would give you up." 
 
 The ensuing silence was oppressive. There was 
 a suspicious moisture in the widow's eyes as she 
 arose unsteadily and extended her hand. "I'll have 
 to be going," she said. "I'm afraid your clerk 
 isn't coming back at all." 
 
 She went out softly and the Governor, standing 
 as one in a dream, slowly drew from his pocket a 
 wrinkled envelope and took from it a faded rose. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 IN A DEAD man's HAND 
 
 The election was near at hand. Throughout the 
 country districts the air was scented with barbecued 
 pig and sheep roasted whole, and in the town the 
 night was sleepless with the blare and the snort of 
 the brass band. Old politicians, keen to jump back 
 into the harness and jingle the trace-chains of self- 
 importance, predicted that there was to be a sweep- 
 ing victory for "Democracy" unless the enemy held 
 in reserve a trick to spring at the last moment. But 
 as the judges of election had to all appearances 
 been fairly appointed, it was not likely that any 
 decisive trick could be devised. Besides, it did not 
 seem to be the Carpetbagger's desire to win by 
 fraud. He had held the state in the hollow of his 
 grasping hand, and surely he could have kept it 
 there, for nothing had really occurred to weaken 
 his power — nothing except the concessions which 
 he himself had granted. 
 
 251 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 253 
 
 In the glow of a noon when the air was close, the 
 Major halted in at Mrs. Fairburn's gate. The wid- 
 ow was sitting in a hammock swung across the 
 veranda. She waved her fan at him and asked him 
 to come in. He had not the time for so luxurious 
 a pleasure, he said; there was work for him to do, 
 at the committee rooms in the hotel, but he could 
 not resist the temptation to linger for a moment. 
 He stood in the cool shade of a vine, and seemed 
 to be in no haste to get at his important work. 
 
 "A few days ago," said he, "it was my earnest 
 desire to be elected; now it is more than a desire — 
 it is an enthusiasm." 
 
 "Then a distant view did not lend a false enchant- 
 ment to the office," she replied, laughing. 
 
 "No, the closer I get, the more attractive it 
 becomes." 
 
 "Why, Major?" 
 
 Her woman's instinct told her why, but she could 
 
 * 
 
 not have helped asking. Naturally he expected the 
 question, but of course pretended astonishment 
 that she should not know why. 
 
256 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "The office is brighter, now, Alice, because I 
 have a hope that you will share it with me." 
 
 "Why, Major," she said, somewhat flustered, 
 "don't talk so loud. Some one might hear you." 
 
 He bowed over the gate and said that he would 
 respect her caution. "But," he added, "I would 
 like to shout it from the dome of the state house." 
 
 "They would think that you were making a polit- 
 ical speech," she said. 
 
 He shook his head. "No, not a political speech, 
 for there can be nothing politic where the heart is 
 so deeply concerned. A man may set his mind 
 upon an office; his heart is reserved for some- 
 thing nobler. But as I said before, you must not 
 decide impulsively. When I am Governor I shall 
 expect your answer." 
 
 He bowed again and passed on, and just at that 
 moment, a negress, employed by Mrs. Fairburn as 
 a laundress, came around a corner of the house, 
 wringing her hands and moaning. Mrs. Fairburn, 
 full of sympathy, besought her to tell the cause of 
 her distress, but the poor woman was so overcome 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 251 
 
 by grief that it was some moments before she could 
 speak. Then she said that Zeb, her husband, had 
 been found murdered, with a knife wound in his 
 breast. On the night before, he had gone to meet 
 a man who owed him some money — she did not 
 know the name of the man — and had been stabbed 
 to death in Thompson's kimber yard. 
 
 "I doan want him t' be buried by no charity," 
 said the woman. "I want t' borry enough money 
 t' pay fur de funeral; an' I doan know when I kin 
 pay you, but I want you t' take dis yere watch an' 
 keep it till I fetches de money back t' you." 
 
 She took a gold watch from her bosom and held 
 it out to Mrs. Fairburn. 'T don't want your watch, 
 Minerva. I will let you have the money, but I 
 couldn't think of — " 
 
 "Yessum, you mus'. You got t', 'case I doan 
 know whut t' do wid it no how, fur it's too fine 
 fur me." 
 
 "Let me see it," said Mrs. Fairburn, taking the 
 watch. She opened it and looked up with a start. 
 "Where did you get this? Tell me the truth." 
 
258 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Yassum, I'll tell you de truf ez de Lawd is my 
 jedge. My husband he gib it t' me." 
 
 "Do you know where he got it?" 
 
 "No'm, I doan know, but de white pusson dat 
 he works fur mus' er gib it t' him in pay fur his 
 work." 
 
 "Do you know whom he worked for?" 
 
 "No'm. He neber tole me much er bout his er 
 fairs, No'm, I doan know." 
 
 "I'll let you have the money and keep the watch," 
 said the widow kindly. Gently drawing the sorrow- 
 ing negress down upon the veranda she questioned 
 her long about all phases of the affair and particu- 
 larly inquired about the watch. 
 
 Then she sent the woman away with the money 
 under her apron, chanting a negro's improvised 
 dirge as she crossed lots in the direction of home. 
 Reaching there, her chant was merged into the 
 mourning song sung by her friends, gathered at the 
 house. Jim looked in at the door and stood shak- 
 ing his head. Early that morning a man had come 
 running to tell him that Zeb was dead in Thomp- 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 259 
 
 son's lumber yard, and he had hastened over there 
 to see for himself. The news had not yet been 
 spread, the body having just been found, and Jim 
 saw the murder in all its ghastly newness. He ap- 
 proached cautiously, looking at the dead man's up- 
 turned face. Then he looked at the right hand, 
 shut tight, and stood there, pop-eyed with a dis- 
 covery. Bending over he took something from the 
 dead man's hand. As he looked at it an ashen 
 pallor overspread his swarthy face, his knees trem- 
 bled and his teeth chattered like castanets. He 
 carefully put it away in his pocket and hastened 
 away. He returned when the coroner came, but 
 said nothing of his discovery. He walked about in 
 deep thought, shaking his head. He was related 
 to the newly-made widow, and went to her house 
 to mourn with her; but he did not even tell her of 
 the thing which he had found in the dead man's 
 hand. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE CHECK THAT CONSCIENCE DRAWS 
 
 Several members of the legislature, who had been 
 unusually active in state affairs during the Carpet- 
 bag regime, were missing. Rumor said they had 
 gone abroad for their health, albeit they had grown 
 fat and waxed strong through feeding at the pub- 
 lic's expense. The rats had begun to desert the 
 sinking ship; those v/ho remained did so in order 
 to make one last plundering attack upon whatever 
 could be found in the old worm-eaten hulk. 
 
 Willetts sent for Lucy Linford. He knew he had 
 reached the end of his rope and that he no longer 
 had any influence whatsoever with the chief execu- 
 tive. Daily conferences with the lethargic Lum- 
 mers had confirmed this beyond question, even if 
 additional confirmation were needed. He knew 
 that henceforth whatever was accomplished by him 
 must be done vicariously and he turned to the 
 
 260 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 261 
 
 schoolbook lobbyist as the most effective tool avail- 
 able. 
 
 "What is the use of trying to push this matter 
 right in the midst of the election excitement?" de- 
 murred old Steve's agent. "Why not v/ait a while? 
 If the election goes against him, he will still be Gov- 
 ernor for a while, won't he?" 
 
 Willetts snorted. "You may understand school- 
 books," he cried, "but you don't understand Mis- 
 sissippi. Now, listen and follow me closely. The 
 moment the election returns are in, the Carpetbag 
 government will explode. Those law-makers will 
 take to the woods like scared rabbits. They've been 
 sitting there now eight months in violation of all 
 law, crawling over each other in their efforts to 
 push through a few more schemes before the crash 
 comes. Our people won't pay us a cent so long 
 as there is any loophole in this bill which will enable 
 the next administration to undo it. They demand 
 that it shall not only be signed by the Governor, but 
 also that the fact shall be recorded in both houses 
 before they will cash in for us. Vve must get the 
 
262 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 old man's name and we must get it, too, before this 
 legislature lets go. Understand?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Get him — somehow. I don't care how. You 
 can do more with him than I can. You are a 
 woman. You know what that means." 
 
 The lobbyist shook her head dubiously. "I'll see 
 what I can do," she remarked, "but I'm not at all 
 sanguine about the matter. He won't melt — I've 
 tried him and I know. We've got to take another 
 tack this time. Leave me alone with him for a 
 few minutes and I'll try to land him. Have Lum- 
 mers keep everyone else away so that I'll have a 
 clear field." 
 
 This was a matter easy of accomplishment. 
 Lummers was expecting her when she called. 
 "Tell the Governor a lady wishes to see him, Jim," 
 he said. "No name — just a lady. I'm going to 
 step up to the senate chamber for a moment. Don't 
 let anyone in till I get back." 
 
 The Governor entered briskly from his private 
 office with a number of papers in his hand. He 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 263 
 
 Stopped abruptly as he recognized the caller. She 
 was all smiles. 
 
 "Are you surprised?" she inquired. 
 
 "Um-no," was the hesitating response. 'Tm not 
 surprised at anything nowadays — haven't time." 
 
 Lucy motioned toward a chair. "May I sit 
 down?" she asked. 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 She indicated another chair. "Won't you?" 
 
 "It is hardly worth while. I am very — " 
 
 "Oh, come, be sociable just a minute. You're 
 not afraid of me, are you?" 
 
 The Carpetbagger shook his head. "I'm afraid 
 of myself," he said, as he took a seat across the 
 room from his visitor. 
 
 "Governor, how is your memory?" 
 
 "Bad— very bad." 
 
 "You haven't forgot what you told me the other 
 night, have you?" 
 
 "No. I told you 'good bye'." * 
 
 The lobbyist bit her lip. "You have a positive 
 genius," she remarked, "for forgetting things you 
 
264 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 ought to remember and remembering things you 
 ought to forget." 
 
 "Oh, I don't know about that. There are a great 
 many things I'd like to forget and can't." 
 
 "I hope you haven't tried to forget the Midland 
 bill" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 "I forgot that without trying." 
 
 There was a marked change in Miss Linford's 
 demeanor at once. She altered her tactics instantly. 
 All attempts at fascination were at an end; verbal 
 fencing was abandoned ; she did not smile now. 
 
 "Governor," she said forcefully, "you understand 
 your business or you wouldn't be where and what 
 you are. I think I understand mine. I'm a busi- 
 ness woman now; let's talk business." 
 
 The Carpetbagger shifted uneasily in his chair 
 but made no reply. 
 
 "In politics," she went on, "there is nothing sad- 
 der than an official suicide — like this." 
 "Well, I'm not on ice yet." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 266 
 
 "You've killed yourself. Don't you think you 
 ought to save enough now to pay your funeral ex- 
 penses?" 
 
 "Don't let that worry you." 
 
 "You have pulled down the temple. What have 
 you gained ? You have thrown away the Governor- 
 ship ; you have thrown over your party and defeated 
 your friends. Now what? Do you expect to live 
 here among these people whom you have robbed 
 for years? You can't do it. Do you expect to go 
 back to Chicago? How will you do that — walk 
 back — without a cent?" 
 
 "If a man is 'broke' it doesn't make much differ- 
 ence where he is, does it?" 
 
 "The election is a mere waste of time. What's 
 the use? The moment the returns are in, however, 
 the legislature will adjourn. Then it will be too 
 late. Your name — right now — is worth $50,000. 
 Sell it." 
 
 She was leaning toward him eagerly, looking 
 straight into his eyes, and every word was uttered 
 with the force of a hammer blow. The Carpet- 
 
266 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 bagger leaned back in his chair, looked toward the 
 ceiling and crossed his hands behind his head. "Do 
 you remember," he slowly asked, after a brief inter- 
 val of silence, "in that old school-reader there was 
 a quotation from an older book: 'A good name is 
 rather to be chosen than great riches?' I'm afraid 
 you haven't got that in your new books." 
 
 "Bosh!" 
 
 "Think so?" 
 
 "Yes, I do think so. Better men than you have 
 done worse things. You mustn't let a sentimental 
 whim wreck all your chances for the future. It 
 would be a crime. We haven't a moment to lose. 
 You have only one chance left — don't let it slip. 
 You owe this to yourself; you owe it to your 
 daughter. Think of her future and — " 
 
 The Governor sprang to his feet. "Hold on 
 now!" he cried. "You've gone far enough. I have 
 heard you ; now you hear me. When I came down 
 here, I came just as you did — to plunder. And I 
 did it. There is no future in that. I've tried it. I 
 know. Mississippi today has every dollar that I 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 267 
 
 took from her. I have given her back her money; 
 she has given me back my conscience." 
 
 A sneer hardened the woman's face. "Will that 
 pay a board bill?" she asked ironically. "You can't . 
 cash your conscience at the bank." 
 
 "Any check that conscience draws — whether it is 
 ever paid or not — ^will be honored everywhere." 
 
 "Oh, sentiment sounds as pretty as anything in 
 your old school-reader, but you'll find you can get 
 along a good deal better on three meals a day. Be 
 sensible." 
 
 Suddenly the Governor turned upon her. "Sen- 
 sible?" he cried. "No sensible man ever is dishonest. 
 Let me tell you that whenever a man tries to strike 
 out the enacting clause of the Ten Commandments 
 he is headed for — " 
 
 Nellie and Roy came bounding into the room. 
 Seeing Miss Linford engaged with the Governor 
 they stopped short and prepared to beat a hasty re- 
 treat. 
 
 "Come in!" cheerily called the Carbetbagger. 
 "Come right in. How are you, Captain? It's all 
 right; this lady has finished her business." 
 
268 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 The lobbyist reluctantly rose. "I didn't say I 
 had finished my business with you," she snarled. 
 
 "Didn't you?" gaily responded the Governor as 
 he took Nellie's curly head between his hands and 
 kissed her forehead. "Well, I did." 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 A GOOD TIMEPIECE 
 
 It was election day, and all places of business 
 were closed; election, the first held by the people 
 since the old days, when the "eagle orator" and 
 the "silvery tongued" set forth the wrongs of the 
 nation and the woes of the state. 
 
 At night a rain had fallen, there was no dust, and 
 the air was cool. Crowds were gathered about the 
 polling places, every one expecting blood to be 
 shed, though wise men stood about to give counsel 
 to hot heads. "We have lost a mighty issue by 
 blood, and blood will not win us an election," said 
 an old man, a lawyer who had sat upon the supreme 
 bench of the country. Occasionally rough hands 
 were laid upon a "repeater," to choke him, to beat 
 him and to drag him off. The brass bands were 
 still snorting, and ambitious young orators stood at 
 public places, welcoming the day of deliverance, 
 
 260 
 
270 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 The Carpetbaggers had not given up the fight. 
 They knew that the party in power always has a 
 chance, for possession in poHtics means quite as 
 much as it does in law. But the shrewder ones 
 knew that the old carpetbag would not hold straw 
 after this day; they did not have to look to know it; 
 they felt it, the atmosphere v/as against them. The 
 legislature did not take a recess, each member being 
 interested in a selfish measure, and, fearing that his 
 time was short, continued to harangue and to strug- 
 gle. How lawless a gathering under the protection 
 of the law! Never again was the country to see its 
 semblance, the scrambling end of a riotous misrule. 
 It was a revolution. Negroes, tremulous with 
 the newness of suffrage, stood about astonished, 
 ballot in hand, the voice of the people in the palm 
 of yesterday's slave. The negro was not yet the 
 white man's enemy. He had with strange fidelity 
 taken care of the mistress and the little ones while 
 the master fought, and there was a kindly remem- 
 brance of it; but now had come the beginning of 
 the long and bitter struggle between the Anglo- 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 271 
 
 Saxon and the African. The old ruler of the soil 
 could forgive the negro's freedom, but he could not 
 forgive his vote, unless he should vote with the 
 native whites, and that his gratitude toward his 
 Northern liberators could not permit him to do. It 
 might have been a false gratitude, or rather a blind 
 gratitude, but that was for him to decide. 
 
 The hope of the Carpetbaggers lay with the 
 negro, but the freedmen were new as voters and 
 could not be sufficiently organized. By eleven 
 o'clock, the Democrats knew that Reynolds was far 
 in the lead, but there were several "heavy negro dis- 
 tricts" to hear from and the outcome was not certain. 
 The legislators took fresh hope. They had received 
 encouraging news, but their spirits flagged at noon, 
 dashed by a dispatch which simply read: "The 
 negroes don't know what they are doing. It looks 
 bad." Then the scramble began anew. 
 
 Early in the day, the gentler element of society 
 had retired from sight, behind closed doors, expect- 
 ing that there would be trouble, but later the em- 
 barrassment was thrown off and the women came 
 out to see the "struggle for new freedom." 
 
272 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 Gov. Melville Crance was the coolest and the 
 calmest man in the little capital city of Mississippi. 
 The election of Major Reynolds was over, except 
 the shouting, and the shouting itself had begun. 
 As the day wore on, the pent up feelings of the 
 people could no longer be restrained. The streets 
 were thronged by excited citizens, singing, cheer- 
 ing and laughing with all the careless exuberance 
 and enthusiasm of college boys out for a lark. 
 Little bands of marchers, keeping step to fife and 
 drum, went about the city shouting the glad tidings 
 of the political regeneration at hand. 
 
 The saloons were closed, but the whiskey bottles 
 were not, and the ardent spirits of the marchers 
 were accentuated by the ardent spirits they con- 
 sumed en route. 
 
 Toward night, the demonstrations became louder 
 and more boisterous. The feeling of respect for the 
 Carpetbagger, due to his unexpected attitude to- 
 ward his political antagonist, was beclouded by the 
 fumes of liquor. He either was crazy, they said, 
 or else he had struck something better up North. 
 At any rate he deserved no consideration at the 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 273 
 
 hands of the outraged people he had so long op- 
 pressed. At times the manifestations assumed a 
 threatening aspect. Some pf the paraders, bolder 
 than the rest, halted beneath the Governor's window 
 to jeer at him and to hurl opprobrious epithets at 
 the man they hated. 
 
 Lummers was frightened. "Governor," he said 
 tremblingly, ''I don't like the looks of things out- 
 side. The town's full of drunken men and there's 
 no telling what those fellows will do when they are 
 in liquor. Hadn't we better close up?" 
 
 The Governor glanced up from some letters he 
 was examining and stopped whistling, for recently 
 he had relearned how to whistle at his work. "Non- 
 sense!" he said. "There is no danger. If you are 
 afraid you may go home for the day. Jim and I 
 can get along all right alone." 
 
 "I'm not afraid," continued Lummers, though his 
 voice told a different story, "but you'd better take 
 no chances to-day. If those fellows ever start, 
 they'll go gunning for bigger game than I am. 
 Watch out for them." 
 
 "Why, everything is going their way. What 
 
274 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 more could they ask? They wouldn't make any- 
 thing by riddling a political corpse and they cer- 
 tainly are sensible enough to know it." 
 
 "When a man has mislaid his brains, or has 
 soaked 'em in whiskey," said the secretary, "he 
 isn't sensible enough to know anything. I tell you 
 the whole town is wild." 
 
 "Then you and I will set the town a good ex- 
 ample." 
 
 "All right/' persisted Lummers, "but I warn you, 
 just the same. Look out for yourself to-day." He 
 took from a pigeon hole of his desk a heavy Colt's 
 revolver and thrust it into the Governor's hands. 
 "Keep that where you can get at it." 
 
 The Carpetbagger gazed at the weapon curiously 
 and shook his head. "I've got through with that 
 sort of work," he said, and, opening the left hand 
 drawer of his desk, he laid the revolver in it and 
 closed it again. A few minutes later, he retired 
 into his private room. Jim came in, whispered 
 mysteriously to Lummers, and tiptoed out again to 
 usher in Willetts. 
 
 "Is the old man — ?" whispered the lobbyist. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 275 
 
 "Sh!" interrupted Lummers, pointing toward the 
 door of the Governor's den. 
 
 "Have you got the Midland bill here?" asked 
 Willetts in a low tone. 
 
 "No. I don't know where it is. I've looked 
 through everything and can't find it." 
 
 "Do you think the old man has it?" 
 
 "No. I presume it's up at the house." 
 
 "Well, we've got to have it and we've got to 
 have it quick. Understand? Go after it. Tell 'em 
 the Governor sent you." 
 
 "If it's at the house I can't get it." 
 
 "Of course you can. Go through everything 
 until you find it. Say the Governor wants it. And 
 get back here just as quick as you can. Hurry!" 
 
 "I don't like to—" 
 
 "Nonsense. You'll never be missed. It won't 
 take ten minutes. Jim can look after the office." 
 
 Lummers hurried away and Willetts went out 
 with him, saying he would step up to the senate 
 chamber to see how matters were going. Shortly 
 afterward Mrs. Fairburn's card was brought in. 
 
276 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Pardon me for disturbing you, to-day," she began, 
 "but I want to see you on a matter of urgent im- 
 portance." 
 
 "I am delighted to see you, Mrs. Fairburn," re- 
 sponded the Governor. "Won't you be seated?" 
 
 "My laundress," continued the widow with con- 
 siderable excitement in her speech, "was the wife 
 of a negro, Zeb, who was found murdered in 
 Thompson's lumber yard. A short time after 
 the poor thing came to me, half distracted, 
 and asked me for enough money to defray 
 the funeral expenses. She insisted on giving me 
 something for security and thrust into my hands 
 this watch. Look at it." 
 
 The Governor took the watch and inspected it 
 casually. "It looks like a valuable timepiece," he 
 remarked. "Probably it was stolen. You know 
 the colored brother doesn't always limit himself to 
 henroosts and watermelon patches." 
 
 "Look inside of it." 
 
 The Governor opened the case. " 'Presented io 
 Wiley Jones by his constituents, Spencer county, 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 277 
 
 Mississippi, April 10, 1866'," he slowly repeated, 
 reading an inscription. 
 
 "Where did this come from?" he hastily inquired. 
 "Who had it?" 
 
 "The negro, Zeb." 
 
 The Carpetbagger sprang to his feet. "It's as 
 clear as day," he cried. "That black scoundrel shot 
 Jones and stole his watch." 
 
 "Pardon me," interrupted Mrs. Fairburn ear- 
 nestly, "but that is only the beginning of this affair. 
 Suppose we take it for granted that Zeb killed 
 Wiley Jones. Who killed Zeb?" 
 
 "That dof^'-'t make any difference. What we're 
 after is tL^ low who murdered Jones." 
 
 "Ah, but it does make a difference. Listen. 
 That negro was decoyed from his home — " 
 
 "Decoyed?" 
 
 "Beyond any question. He went to meet a man 
 who owed him money and never was seen again 
 alive. His widow believes he received the money 
 and on his way home was waylaid by robbers and 
 killed." 
 
 "Quite likely." 
 
278 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "I don't think so. Governor, the kiUing of this 
 negro, in itself may appear an insignificant thing, in 
 these days when human Hfe is held so cheap, but 
 it holds the key of old Mr. Reynolds' innocence. 
 I feel sure of it. Zeb was not murdered for his 
 money — negroes never have money — he was killed 
 because he knew too much." 
 
 "I'm afraid I don't quite follow you," remarked 
 the Governor, reflectively. 
 
 "Why was Mr. Jones murdered?" Mrs. Fairburn 
 continued. "What was the motive? Not money — 
 he had not enough money to tempt anyone. Not 
 robbery — no one would do so desperate a deed for 
 this watch. If Zeb killed him he was hired to do 
 it by some one who wanted Jones out of the way. 
 And the man who paid that negro to commit the 
 first crime has silenced him forever by a knife 
 thrust." 
 
 The Carpetbagger carefully looked out of the 
 window. "It may be worth looking into," he said 
 at length. "I'll send for Chief of Police McCul- 
 lough and talk it over with him." Turning to his 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 279 
 
 desk he wrote a brief note, folded it and rang for 
 Jim. 
 
 "Take this to police headquarters," he said, "and 
 get back just as soon as you can. By the way, 
 v/here's Lummers?" 
 
 "Mistah Lummers done stepped out foh a few 
 minutes, sah." 
 
 "All right. Hurry back." 
 
 The widow arose to go. "Governor," she said, 
 "find the man who was last seen with that negro; 
 find the man who owed him money, or promised 
 him money, or paid him money ; find the man who 
 sent for him last night; find the man whom he met 
 — and you will be face to face with the real mr.rderer 
 of Wiley Jones and slayer of Zeb; thus will the 
 innocence of old Mr. Reynolds be made clear." 
 
 "A woman's heart is the best detective. Perhaps 
 you are right; we'll see." 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 MR. WILLETTS MAKES A POINT 
 
 Shortly after Mrs. Fairburn left the state house 
 Nellie and Roy called at the Governor's office. The 
 Carpetbagger himself had withdrawn into the inner 
 room and neither Jim nor Lummers was on duty. 
 They looked about the room, surprised to find it 
 unoccupied, and sat down at the Governor's desk. 
 
 "Isn't it just awful," remarked the young 
 "soldier" disconsolately, "that we can't do anything 
 but sit down and grow?" 
 
 "Awful," echoed Nellie with a sigh. "And if I 
 do go back to Chicago you'll forget me in six 
 months, I s'pose." 
 
 "I won't forget you in six thousand years," cried 
 Roy, vehemently. "You just wait and see!" 
 
 "I don't want to wait. That's just the trouble. 
 Of course I promised father I wouldn't run away; 
 but if any one were to come along and carry me 
 off I couldn't help that, could I?" 
 
 280 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 281 
 
 Roy shook his head. "Couldn't do it," he said, 
 "I have given him my word of honor." 
 *'Oh, what did you do that for!" 
 "What could a soldier do when he was treed?" 
 "Treed? When were you treed? Who treed 
 you?" 
 
 "Never mind." 
 
 "Well, Captain Roy Fairburn, I don't think you 
 have managed this affair well, at all. You said you 
 would meet me at the magnolias the other night, 
 but you didn't. If you had come — " 
 "I did." 
 
 "You didn't do any such thing." 
 "I did." 
 
 "Captain Roy Fairburn! What a story!" 
 "I tell you I did." 
 "Well, where were you, then?" 
 "Never mind." 
 "I didn't see you." 
 "The Governor did." 
 
 "Well, do something! Think of something! 
 Suppose this horrid election should go wrong!" 
 
282 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "They'd take you back to Chicago — if they could; 
 but could they?" 
 
 Nellie's pretty pink lips were dangerously close 
 to his own. "Do you think they could?" she asked, 
 and the Governor in the next room heard a sound 
 which startled him from a reverie and brought back 
 the days when he used to hear whippoorwills in 
 Illinois. 
 
 "Hello!" he cried, giving a premonitory cough 
 as he entered the room. "What are you doing 
 down here?" 
 
 "We won't have to go right back to Chicago, 
 will we?" inquired Nellie, blushing almost as red 
 as the rose in her hair. 
 
 "Well — you needn't pack your trunk to-night." 
 
 "I don't see why anyone should want to vote 
 against you, anyway. Why do they?" 
 
 "Political reasons, I guess." 
 
 "I don't believe there ought to be any such rea- 
 sons." 
 
 "Well," laughed the Governor, "I don't know 
 that I do, either; but other folks seem to think 
 differently." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 283 
 
 "I don't want Nellie to go back to Chicago," 
 chimed in Roy. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Oh, because." 
 
 "Because what?" 
 
 "And I don't want to go back, either," inter- 
 rupted Nellie. 
 
 •'Why?" 
 
 "I'd rather stay. Up there there's nothing but 
 school all the time and you never see a — " 
 
 "Whippoorwill? That's so — it has been a good 
 many years since I heard one up there." 
 
 "I don't want Nellie to go back," spoke up the 
 young lover manfully. "You know what I mean. 
 I want her to stay right here — always." 
 
 A kindly light shone in the Governor's eyes. 
 "My boy," he remarked, "you are merely wasting 
 your time with me. You know what I told you 
 the other night. Go home and talk to your 
 mother." 
 
 Roy seized his cap. "I'll do it!" he cried. "You 
 stay right here," he continued, addressing Nellie, 
 "I'll be back in a jiffy." 
 
284 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Father," began Nellie when they were alone, 
 "you aren't sorry to-day, are you?" 
 
 "Sorry? Nonsense! Why should I be sorry?" 
 
 "You aren't sorry because we are going to be 
 poor again?" 
 
 "Poor! My child, I am the richest man in the 
 world to-day." Tenderly he stooped and kissed 
 her. "See what I've got left." Then in a lighter 
 tone he added: "How would you like to be my 
 little secretary to-day and help me with my letters, 
 eh?" Nellie clapped her hands for joy, and giving 
 the old man another kiss and a hug, went with him 
 injo the private ofifice. 
 
 Willetts came in hurriedly, after making a dis- 
 creet reconnoisance at the doorway. "Lummers 
 isn't back yet," he muttered. "The woman couldn't 
 do the trick. I didn't much believe she could. It 
 isn't her fault; either he's a fool or he's crazy." He 
 was walking up and down the room in nervous ex- 
 citement when Lummers entered. 
 
 "Did you get it?" he whispered. Lummers 
 nodded. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 285 
 
 "Good! Let me have it. Where's the nigger?" 
 
 "I don't know. He was here when I left." 
 
 "Well, you take care of him if he turns up. Stand 
 at the door out there and while I'm with the Gov- 
 ernor don't let anybody come in. Understand?" 
 
 Lummers walked out into the reception room, 
 and Willetts started toward the door of the Gov- 
 ernor's private office. Before he had taken a half 
 dozen steps the door opened and Gov. Crance came 
 into the room carrying some papers in his hand. 
 He stopped short on seeing the lobbyist. 
 
 "Governor," remarked Willetts blandly, "I'm 
 sorry to bother you to-day, but here's a petition I'd 
 like you to look at, if you will." 
 
 Making no reply, the Carpetbagger seated him- 
 self at his desk. A moment later, he glanced up 
 and, displaying a little annoyance, said perempto- 
 rily: "Well, what is it?" 
 
 Willetts gave a swift glance about the room and 
 laid the Midland Railway bill before the Governor. 
 The latter started as he recognized the document 
 
286 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 before him and glanced up in surprise. He was 
 looking down the muzzle of a revolver. 
 
 "Sign that," commanded Willetts. 
 
 The Carpetbagger's thin lips tightened about the 
 cigar he was smoking. That was all. "Sit down," 
 he said, coolly. 
 
 "Your name. Quick!" 
 
 "I wouldn't shoot if I were you." 
 
 "Sign it." 
 
 "At any rate you'd better not do any shooting till 
 after I sign my name. If you did, you know, the 
 bill wouldn't do you any good." 
 
 "You haven't a minute to live unless you do it." 
 
 "Now, don't lose your nerve, Willetts, and get 
 careless. I can't do any writing with a bullet hole 
 through me. I'm not a fool; sit down." 
 
 Slowly the Governor spread out the paper before 
 him and picked up a pen. Then he rested his left 
 hand carelessly over the left drawer -of his desk — 
 beneath it was the revolver Lummers had urged 
 him to keep within reach. It was time for Jim to 
 return, he thought, and where was Lummers? A 
 
THE CARPETBAGGEP 287 
 
 band of marchers with fife and drum passed by, 
 making a great din. 
 
 "I v/ouldn't object if you'd waste a little ammuni- 
 tion on those fellows," drily said the Carpetbagger. 
 "They've kept me nearly crazy all day." 
 
 As he spoke he pressed the pen into the paper 
 with so much force that the point snapped. 
 
 "I'm sorry, but this pen is broken. I'll have to 
 ask you to hand me one from Lummers' desk be- 
 hind you." 
 
 Willetts uttered an oath. "You did that pur- 
 posely," he cried. "Governor, I don't want to hurt 
 you, but you know me. This means business." 
 
 The old man smiled and leaned back in his chair. 
 "I can't very well sign my name without a pen, can 
 I?" he inquired. "Perhaps there's one in the 
 drawer here," he added, motioning toward the right 
 hand drawer, which did not contain the revolver. 
 
 "Stop!" cried Willetts, leveling his weapon. 
 "Don't try that, Governor." 
 
 "Well, look for yourself." 
 
 Willetts did so. Keeping the Governor "cov- 
 
288 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 ered" he jerked open the right hand drawer and 
 felt inside it. "There's nothing here," he said. 
 
 "Well, I don't know. Maybe there's one in the 
 pther drawer." 
 
 Willetts walked around the desk, reaching out 
 his hand to open the left drawer and as he did so 
 the Governor suddenly stirred. "There's a pen 
 right on top of Lummers' desk over there," he said. 
 "Shall I get it?" 
 
 "Sit down," sternly commanded the gambler, as 
 he backed over to the secretary's desk. He turned 
 his head for a moment to pick up the pen. It was 
 only an instant, but it was long enough for the 
 Governor to pull open the left drawer. Within it 
 lay a revolver in plain view. Above it rested the 
 Carpetbagger's left hand. 
 
 Willetts threw down the pen and the Governor 
 picked it up. "If I sign this," he drawled, evidently 
 fighting for delay, "how do I know that I'll get 
 a cent out of it? You said you'd give me fifty thou- 
 sand. Does that agreement hold?" 
 
 "We'll treat you right," growled Willetts. 
 
 *'Well, this doesn't look much like it." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 289 
 
 Nellie entered from the private office, opening a 
 door squarely behind Willetts. Seeing a strange 
 man pointing a revolver at her father, she uttered 
 a loud cry of alarm, Willetts turned upon her with 
 the rapidity of a flash of lightning. Then he 
 wheeled about to keep the Governor "covered." 
 The old man was upon his feet; his long left arm 
 was extended and the murderous muzzle of a big 
 revolver was thrust into Willetts' face. 
 
 "Drop it!" came in stern tones from the Gov- 
 ernor. The gambler's grasp relaxed and his 
 weapon fell to the floor. The Carpetbagger picked 
 it up. 
 
 "A moment ago," he said slowly, "I didn't have 
 a pistol handy. Now I have one more than I can 
 use. There's yours." 
 
 He threw Willetts' weapon before him on the 
 desk. The gambler stretched forth his hand 
 eagerly, but suddenly drew it back again, as if he 
 were afraid he might be stung. He had seen some- 
 thing in the clear blue eyes of the tall man before 
 him that he didn't like. 
 
290 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Governor," he stammered, "I — I — don't want to 
 fight you." 
 
 "Don't you?" sarcastically asked the Carpetbag- 
 ger. "I must have misunderstood you. I thought 
 you did." 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 WHAT JIM FOUND 
 
 Toward evening Major Reynolds strolled over 
 to the residence of Mrs. Fairburn. He found her 
 sitting upon the veranda and, as the red glow of 
 sunset lighted up her face, he thought he never 
 had appreciated her rare beauty before. Certainly 
 she never had seemed so beautiful to him. 
 
 "Alice," he said, as she arose to greet him, "I 
 am Governor of Mississippi. The returns are not 
 in yet, but my advices leave no room for doubt as 
 to the result." 
 
 "I congratulate you, Major, with all my heart, 
 and I also congratulate the state." 
 
 "And now I have come to you for my reward." 
 "The state has already rewarded you, Major." 
 "I care not for that, Alice. You know the only 
 reward I have longed for, hoped for, prayed for. 
 May I not claim it now?" 
 
 2Pt 
 
292 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Let me ask you a question: The election is 
 over; has Gov. Crance acted in good faith toward 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes; I think he has." 
 
 "Has he fulfilled every obligation to you and to 
 himself." 
 
 "I believe so." 
 
 "Has he kept his promises? Has he acted honor- 
 ably? Are you satisfied that he has made full restor- 
 ation to the state so far as he could do it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And what is his reward?" 
 
 "A clear conscience and the respect of his fellow 
 men." 
 
 "Does he command your respect for what he has 
 done?" 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "Then, may he not claim mine?" 
 
 The Major hesitated. "I will admit I was wrong 
 the other night," he said, "in calling you to account 
 for your friendliness toward him; but it was my 
 great love for you which prompted me to do it. 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 293 
 
 But I told you then that as soon as I was elected 
 Governor I should call for your answer. Alice — " 
 "Come into the house," she said. A half hour 
 later they came out together and walked down to 
 the State House. 
 
 During the exciting scene which followed the 
 unexpected entrance of Nellie Crance into the Gov- 
 ernor's office that young woman was not idle. She 
 did not wait to see the old Carpetbagger turn the 
 tables on his antagonist, but ran screaming into 
 the reception room, where she found Lummers 
 standing on guard at the door. Again and again 
 she called upon the recreant secretary for help, but 
 he paid no attention to her entreaties. Suddenly a 
 black giant loomed up in the entrance. "Oh, Jim! 
 Jim!" she cried. "Come quick! They're killing 
 Father!" Lummers barred the negro's way. Jim's 
 long right arm shot out like a catapult and his fist 
 landed squarely between Lummers' eyes. The 
 secretary reeled backward the entire length of the 
 room and fell limp and apparently lifeless in a heap 
 
294 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 Upon the floor. Another second and Jim stood at 
 the Governor's side. 
 
 "Foh de Lawd's sake!" he gasped. "What's de 
 matter?" 
 
 "Jim," calmly replied the Carpetbagger, "Mr. 
 Willetts, having no further use for his pistol, has 
 kindly made you a present of it. Take it. It's 
 yours." 
 
 The darkey looked at Willetts. "Take it," com- 
 manded the Governor. "You may have it." Jim 
 picked up the weapon gingerly, as if he were afraid 
 it might explode. 
 
 "Somebody should get a doctor for Mr. Lum- 
 mers," cried Nellie. 
 
 "Lummers?" said the Carpetbagger. "What's 
 the matter with Lummers? Where is he?" 
 
 "When Miss Nellie called me just now," ex- 
 plained Jim, "Mistah Lummers he sorter got in mah 
 way. An' I tried to get by 'im an' I couldn't. An' 
 I put out mah hand kind o' sudden like. An' I felt 
 suthin'. An' I looked down an' dar was Mistah 
 Lummers gwine t' sleep. Reckon I'd better took 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 295 
 
 after him a little foh dat ain't no fitten place for a 
 man t' dose ofif." 
 
 "If he's hurt bring a doctor," said the Governor, 
 just as a police officer in uniform appeared in the 
 doorway and saluted. "Ah, McCulIough, come in. 
 This fellow is a trifle too careless with firearms. I 
 had to take his pistol away from him a few minutes 
 ago. Take him away. Lock him up." 
 
 "Governor, don't do this," pleaded Willetts, "I've 
 always been your friend — always." 
 
 "That may be," responded the Governor, "but I 
 don't like your familiarity sometimes." 
 
 Major Reynolds came in with Mrs. Fairburn on 
 his arm. At the doorway they halted, surprised by 
 the unexpected sight of a police officer. "Pardon 
 our intrusion, Governor," said the Major. "What's 
 the matter?" 
 
 The Governor threw down his weapon. "Noth- 
 ing at all, thank you," he said. "Mr. Willetts and 
 I merely had a slight difiference of opinion. He 
 thought I would make a good target." 
 
 At the mention of the gambler's name Mrs. Fair- 
 
296 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 burn started. As the officer turned to lead Willetts 
 away, she stepped forward. "May I speak to Mr. 
 Willetts a moment?" she asked. 
 
 "Certainly," replied the Governor. 
 
 "Mr. Willetts," she began with a voice soft and 
 sweet as a siren's song, "I don't know what has 
 just occurred here and I hope you will pardon me 
 for interrupting you at such a time. But you are 
 now in a position to help me and perhaps I also 
 can assist you. My laundress is the wife of the 
 negro Zeb, who was found dead in Thompson's 
 lumber yard. I am told that he formerly was in 
 your employ." 
 
 "I had a nigger a while ago to look after my 
 horses. I suppose it's the same fellow — I don't 
 know," growled the gambler. 
 
 "Well, now, Mr. Willetts," the widow proceeded 
 insinuatingly, "here is the point. Zeb left home 
 to get some money you owed him. He was way- 
 laid by robbers on his way home. They took what- 
 ever he had, but there is no way of telling how 
 much they found. It has occurred to me that per- 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 297 
 
 haps you didn't pay Zeb at all. If you didn't I 
 hope you will turn over the money to his widow 
 right away. Poor thing, she needs it." 
 
 "Well, I paid the nigger — every cent I owed him. 
 That settles that." 
 
 A queer light glowed in Mrs. Fairburn's eyes, but 
 the gambler did not notice it. 
 
 "Then you gave Zeb the money?" she softly in- 
 quired, stepping closer. 
 
 "Why, yes." 
 
 "When did you see him last?" 
 
 "Early in the evening. I don't know the exact 
 hour." 
 
 "You sent for him?" 
 
 "He'd been working for me. I owed him a small 
 balance and told him to come up and get it." 
 
 "He kept the appointment you made?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You met him?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Mrs. Fairburn was standing face to face with 
 Willetts. Looking him straight in the eyes she 
 
298 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 said, as quietly and as conclusively as one might 
 discuss the weather or the price of butter: "And 
 you murdered him." 
 
 Willetts did not start. He had been a gambler 
 too long to betray whatever might be passing in his 
 mind. He laughed uneasily. "Did I?" he in- 
 quired. "Well, I'd entirely forgotten that. Per- 
 haps I did." 
 
 "You decoyed that negro from his home. You 
 waited for him in the dark. You met him as a 
 friend and drove your knife through his heart be- 
 cause you were afraid of what he knew!" 
 
 A sneer was the only response. The officer 
 stepped forward and laid his hand on Willetts' 
 shoulder. "Come," he said, laconically. Big Jim 
 stood in the doorway and did not step aside to per- 
 mit them to pass. " 'Scuse me, sah," he said, "but 
 I'd like to—" 
 
 "Silence, you black rascal!" shouted the hot- 
 headed Major. "How dare you interfere in — " 
 
 The Governor raised his hand. "Pardon!" he 
 said. "Let him speak. Go on, Jim. What is it?" 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 299 
 
 "Thankee, sah. Dis heah fool niggah Zeb was 
 mah wife's cousin — an' he was a bad man. A didn't 
 say nuffin 'bout it befo' and cause fob why: I didn't 
 want no knife holes in mah shirt. I didn't want 
 nobody come slashing up my gyarments. An' dat's 
 jest what dat fool niggah 'd do." 
 
 "Well, is that all?" impatiently inquired the Car- 
 petbagger. 
 
 "Naw, sah. Dat ar lady what's a mohning fob 
 her husband has been comin' ober t' mah house 
 most ebbery day an' she's been sayin' things t' mah 
 wife." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " 'Pears like Wiley Jones an' Mistah Willetts was 
 bofe of 'em in dis heah railway Ian' deal. An' dey 
 quarrel. Den dar's Wiley Jones — killed. Den 
 heah comes a fool niggah toting 'round Wiley 
 Jones' watch. Who'd git Wiley Jones' watch, 
 'ceptin' de man whut kill 'im? An' why he want t' 
 kill Wiley Jones, anyway, 'ceptin' he git paid fur it?" 
 
 Willetts looked bored. "All this may be very 
 entertaining," he said. "No doubt you find it so. 
 But if there is no objection, I would prefer to—" 
 
300 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "Hold on, Willetts!" sternly exclaimed the Gov- 
 ernor. "I'll tell you when to go." 
 
 "Dat mohnin'," proceeded Jim, "a nigg-ah 'oman 
 comes a' runnin' up t' me an' she says 'Zeb's a-lyin' 
 ober yander in de lumberyard.' I run ober dar, an' 
 dar is Zeb wid a big slash in his breast — dead. An* 
 dis heah is a funny thing — " 
 
 The negro stopped and began fumbling in his 
 pocket. "Dar was Zeb a-lyin' on de groun' wid one 
 han' shet up tight — dis way. An' hangin' right 
 outen heah, atween his fingers, was dis little piece 
 o' chain what he cotch off de man what was a killin' 
 of 'im — cotch off while he was a-grabbin' foh his 
 life." 
 
 Jim extended his hand. Resting on its palm was 
 a golden watch charm — a large horseshoe set with 
 diamonds. 
 
 "I see dis heah watch chahm befo," continued the 
 negro solemnly. "I see it often — right in dis heah 
 room, too — right dar!" As he spoke he pointed 
 dramatically toward Willetts' vest. 
 
 Governor Crance took the glittering horseshoe 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 301 
 
 and examined it critically. "It's a lie!" shouted 
 Willetts. "It never was mine!" 
 
 "Oh, course not, of course not!" replied the Gov- 
 ernor. "I have no doubt you can easily explain, 
 to a jury just why your watch chain at present isn't 
 complete. If you have any trouble in doing so, 
 however, we stand ready I think, to supply the miss- 
 ing link." Turning to the officer he added: "Take 
 him away. No bail. Hold him for murder." 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 THE WATERS CLEARED 
 
 As Chief McCullough left the Governor's office 
 with his prisoner, the latter's wrists encircled by 
 steel handcuffs, Roy met them in the lobby. 
 Breathless with astonishment, he rushed into the 
 executive chamber and Nellie immediately under- 
 took to explain to him everything- that had occurred 
 during his brief absence — the assault upon the Gov- 
 ernor, her own opportune arrival, the coming of 
 Jim, the meeting of Lummers, the arrest of Willetts 
 and the charge against him. She made only one 
 mistake — she attempted to tell all this in one sen- 
 tence without stopping for breath and, as a result, 
 Roy merely gathered from her excited chatter that 
 something wonderful had happened. With true 
 soldierly instinct, he regretted that he had not been 
 on hand while the fighting was in progress. 
 
 Major Reynolds extended his hand to Jim. 
 
 302 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 303 
 
 "Give me your black hand, sir," lie said. "For my 
 father and for myself I thank you. I shall not for- 
 get what you have done. This place shall be yours, 
 sir, as long as I am Governor, if you want it." 
 
 Jim grasped the Major's hand timidly, 
 
 "Thankee, sah," he said. "Thankee, kindly." 
 Then he glanced toward the Carpetbagger. "But 
 dar's nebber gwine to be moli dan one gub'nor fob 
 me, nohow, of he'll hab me wid 'im." 
 
 "Governor," said the Southerner, "in advance of 
 the returns, I want to congratulate you, sir, as the 
 only man who ever defeated me in a personal cam- 
 paign." 
 
 With a little hesitation Melville Crance grasped 
 the hand that was extended toward him. There was 
 doubt in his voice as he wonderingly said: "Ah, 
 Major, you're joking; but I'm heartily glad that the 
 shoe is on the other foot to-day. You are virtually 
 governor of Mississippi at this moment and elected 
 by the largest majority ever given a candidate. I'm 
 not sorry. I congratulate the state, and I wish 
 you—" 
 
 "I repeat it, sir, the victory to-day is yours." 
 
304 THE CARPETBAGGER 
 
 "If you believe that, Major," said the Carpet- 
 bagger Hghtly, "my advices, I am certain, are more 
 accurate than yours. You have carried — " 
 
 "I have carried Mississippi — that's all. You, sir, 
 have done more than that; you have carried your- 
 self. A political victory is mine but in it I find the 
 severest defeat of my lifetime." 
 
 "Defeat?" 
 
 "Unconditional defeat." 
 
 Governor Crance looked at his gallant adversary 
 in bewilderment. The Major turned toward Mrs. 
 Fairburn, made her a courtly bow and walked away 
 without a word. 
 
 The room had suddenly grown still. Nellie and 
 Roy had ceased their chattering. The silence was 
 oppressive. Doubtingly, timidly, the Carpetbagger 
 glanced at the woman who had saved him from 
 himself. Slowly she raised her eyes until they met 
 his gaze — they were swimming with tears, but there 
 was no sadness in them. 
 
 "Governor," she said as she extended her hand — 
 her voice as sweet as music in the night — "the water 
 of that mountain brook has become clear." 
 
THE CARPETBAGGER 306 
 
 Outside there was a confused babel of voices 
 mingled with cheers and the sound of hurrying feet. 
 Jim stuck his woolly head in at the door. "De leg- 
 islatur hab adjourned!" he cried. 
 
 But the Carpetbagger neither heard nor knew. 
 The woman he loved was in his arms. "I have lost 
 a state," he said, "but I have won an empire." 
 
 THE END. 
 
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