The Washington times., 1904-07-14

Stevenson was waking UP the Avenue
toward the big nondescript gray pile OF
the City Postofiice In so brown a study
that he failed 20 see two Of his especial
friends on the corner by the Raleigh.
and to respond to their hilarious signals
Perhaps it was just as well that he did
not, for il he had seen Brownlow and
Riverton he would have stopped TO pass
the time of day. and then they would
have insisted on his going TO luncheon
with them, and by the time that was
over the offices would have been closed
and he would have had to put off In
terviewing Edwin J. Willard until the
next day, and one of the most curious
Of the unofficial political episodes Of the
postoffice scandal would never have Oc-
CURED. As il was, he turned in at a
saloon and got a glass Of beer and a
sandwich, and then went up to the de-
nartment and found Willard IN his Of
fee.
Now, It was Stevenson's own idea 70
Interview Edwin J. Willard in regard
TO the postoffice scandals. The local
papers were just exploiting the facts.
and uncovering long trails Of corruption
In different branches of the service, but
no suspicion had as yet attached 10 Mil
lard, the veteran clerk OF a division far
removed from the storm-center. Ger
tainly no one would naturally associate
crime with his prim. little, busy hands.
his straight. little. trim-clad back.
and his prudent. little. courteous smile.
1t was only a chance that he might
know something about the trouble. and
Stevenson's faith in that chance was
based on things which had come TO his
notice while taking a fishing trip up
through that part of central New York
which Willard had abandoned, many
years ago. for the more exciting life of
the Capital
Even allowing for the difference be-
tween city and country estimates OF
wealth, Stevenson could not account for
the notion OF Millard's income which
seemed to prevail UP in TildenvlIle. His
own modest salary as a newspaper
man, though regarded as an unusually
hne income by the farmers and villages.
dwindled into insignificanee beside the
investments and undertakings of Edwin
J. Willard, holder of mortgages, owner
of creameries and a pulp-miH, the
Croesuss of all that region: and Steven
son. who had never been able TO save
more than ten per cent of his salary,
found this sufficiently queer. unless Mil
lard played the stock market. which he
didn't believe. Where did Willard get
IL?
He found his man just signing the last
bunch Of letters before changing his al
paca coat for street garb and going
home to his half-past FIVE dinner
Mr.. Willard. l don't suppose you re-
member me- Stevenson began. but
the little man interrupted him with a
cordial greeting.
'Oh yes. perfectly. Sit down. Mr.
Stephens. I'll be through in a very few
minutes. You came
About those contracts for the new
mail boxes" hazarded Stevenson.
Certainly. certainly. Well. these are
the plans as we have them" and Willard
opened box on his desk-a tin box with
a lock on it-and brought out a bundle
of papers which. as he went on explain
ing, made Stevenson's breath expert
ence a hiatus. They Were-they were
the very letters OF which the suspected
department officials had professed such
utter, not 10 say callow, ignorance. 4
whole system Of graft unfOlded Itself
under Stevenson's nose. like a hot scent
under the keen nostrils of a hound dog.
He was too much interested TO speak;
and Willard took his interest for some
what distrustful scrutiny Of the docu-
ments. He talked on rapidly, in an apol-
ogetic and confidential tone. The other
clerks had struggled out, and they had
the place TO themselves.
There is no chance of any trouble,
I assure you" concluded the little man,