The Conflict [76]
do the other,'' said Victor. ``We need the money. I am false to the cause in urging you not to give it. But--I'm human.''
He was looking away, an expression in his eyes and about his mouth that made him handsomer than she would have believed a man could be. She was looking at him longingly, her beautiful eyes swimming. Her lips were saying inaudibly, ``I love you--I love you.''
``What did you say?'' he asked, his thoughts returning from their far journey.
``My time is up,'' she exclaimed, rising.
``There are better ways of helping than money,'' said he, taking her hand. ``And already you've helped in those ways.''
``May I come again?''
``Whenever you like. But--what would your father say?''
``Then you don't want me to come again?''
``It's best not,'' said he. ``I wish fate had thrown us on the same side. But it has put us in opposite camps-- and we owe it to ourselves to submit.''
Their hands were still clasped. ``You are content to have it so?'' she said sadly.
``No, I'm not,'' cried he, dropping her hand. ``But we are helpless.''
``We can always hope,'' said she softly.
On impulse she laid her hand in light caress upon his brow, then swiftly departed. As she stood in Mrs. Colman's flowery little front yard and looked dazedly about, it seemed to her that she had been away from the world--away from herself--and was reluctantly but inevitably returning.
VI
As Jane drove into the grounds of the house on the hilltop she saw her father and David Hull in an obviously intimate and agitated conversation on the front veranda. She made all haste to join them; nor was she deterred by the reception she got--the reception given to the unwelcome interrupter. Said she:
``You are talking about those indictments, aren't you? Everyone else is. There's a group on every corner down town, and people are calling their views to each other from windows across the streets.''
Davy glanced triumphantly at her father. ``I told you so,'' said he.
Old Hastings was rubbing his hand over his large, bony, wizened face in the manner that indicates extreme perplexity.
Davy turned to Jane. ``I've been trying to show your father what a stupid, dangerous thing Dick Kelly has done. I want him to help me undo it. It MUST be undone or Victor Dorn will sweep the town on election day.''
Jane's heart was beating wildly. She continued to say carelessly, ``You think so?''
``Davy's got a bad attack of big red eye to-day,'' said her father. ``It's a habit young men have.''
``I'm right, Mr. Hastings,'' cried Hull. ``And, furthermore, you know I'm right, Jane; you saw that riot the other night. Joe Wetherbe told me so. You said that it was an absolutely unprovoked assault of the gangs of Kelly and House. Everyone in town knows it was. The middle and the upper class people are pretending to believe what the papers printed-- what they'd like to believe. But they KNOW better. The working people are apparently silent. They usually are apparently silent. But they know the truth --they are talking it among themselves. And these indictments will make Victor Dorn a hero.''
``What of it? What of it?'' said Hastings impatiently. ``The working people don't count.''
``Not as long as we can keep them divided,'' retorted Davy. ``But if they unite----''
And he went on to explain what he had in mind. He gave them an analysis of Remsen City. About fifty thousand inhabitants, of whom about ten thousand were voters. These voters were divided into three classes--upper class, with not more than three or four hundred votes, and therefore politically of no importance AT THE POLLS, though overwhelmingly the most influential in any other way; the middle class, the big and little merchants, the lawyers and doctors, the agents and firemen and so on, mustering in all about two thousand votes; finally, the working class with no less than eight thousand votes out of a total of ten thousand.
``By bribery and cajolery and browbeating and appeal to religious prejudice and to fear of losing
He was looking away, an expression in his eyes and about his mouth that made him handsomer than she would have believed a man could be. She was looking at him longingly, her beautiful eyes swimming. Her lips were saying inaudibly, ``I love you--I love you.''
``What did you say?'' he asked, his thoughts returning from their far journey.
``My time is up,'' she exclaimed, rising.
``There are better ways of helping than money,'' said he, taking her hand. ``And already you've helped in those ways.''
``May I come again?''
``Whenever you like. But--what would your father say?''
``Then you don't want me to come again?''
``It's best not,'' said he. ``I wish fate had thrown us on the same side. But it has put us in opposite camps-- and we owe it to ourselves to submit.''
Their hands were still clasped. ``You are content to have it so?'' she said sadly.
``No, I'm not,'' cried he, dropping her hand. ``But we are helpless.''
``We can always hope,'' said she softly.
On impulse she laid her hand in light caress upon his brow, then swiftly departed. As she stood in Mrs. Colman's flowery little front yard and looked dazedly about, it seemed to her that she had been away from the world--away from herself--and was reluctantly but inevitably returning.
VI
As Jane drove into the grounds of the house on the hilltop she saw her father and David Hull in an obviously intimate and agitated conversation on the front veranda. She made all haste to join them; nor was she deterred by the reception she got--the reception given to the unwelcome interrupter. Said she:
``You are talking about those indictments, aren't you? Everyone else is. There's a group on every corner down town, and people are calling their views to each other from windows across the streets.''
Davy glanced triumphantly at her father. ``I told you so,'' said he.
Old Hastings was rubbing his hand over his large, bony, wizened face in the manner that indicates extreme perplexity.
Davy turned to Jane. ``I've been trying to show your father what a stupid, dangerous thing Dick Kelly has done. I want him to help me undo it. It MUST be undone or Victor Dorn will sweep the town on election day.''
Jane's heart was beating wildly. She continued to say carelessly, ``You think so?''
``Davy's got a bad attack of big red eye to-day,'' said her father. ``It's a habit young men have.''
``I'm right, Mr. Hastings,'' cried Hull. ``And, furthermore, you know I'm right, Jane; you saw that riot the other night. Joe Wetherbe told me so. You said that it was an absolutely unprovoked assault of the gangs of Kelly and House. Everyone in town knows it was. The middle and the upper class people are pretending to believe what the papers printed-- what they'd like to believe. But they KNOW better. The working people are apparently silent. They usually are apparently silent. But they know the truth --they are talking it among themselves. And these indictments will make Victor Dorn a hero.''
``What of it? What of it?'' said Hastings impatiently. ``The working people don't count.''
``Not as long as we can keep them divided,'' retorted Davy. ``But if they unite----''
And he went on to explain what he had in mind. He gave them an analysis of Remsen City. About fifty thousand inhabitants, of whom about ten thousand were voters. These voters were divided into three classes--upper class, with not more than three or four hundred votes, and therefore politically of no importance AT THE POLLS, though overwhelmingly the most influential in any other way; the middle class, the big and little merchants, the lawyers and doctors, the agents and firemen and so on, mustering in all about two thousand votes; finally, the working class with no less than eight thousand votes out of a total of ten thousand.
``By bribery and cajolery and browbeating and appeal to religious prejudice and to fear of losing