Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-03-17

quence to answer. What was done to you
up state was planned out by me, and it
isn't deuce-high to what'll drop on you if
you're still alive when the state conven-
ton
You curt
Meaning me-" aueried Caleb blandly
You curl repeated Give, his last re-
manning shreds of temper thrown to the
winds. Il was told I'd meet this sort of re-
ception, but l couldn't believe there was
man alive who had the Grass effrontery to
he was going continue one. You've Slapped
the integrity; the honesty. the freedom of
this city and state. You've made us by
word for every community in America
You've trailed your ubiquitous railroad
across the state, crushing every smaller
and more honest line. until you are car
of all our traffic. You rob the people by
sending to legislature your own hench-
men, who help you steal franchises. and
who cut down your taxes and throw the
burden of assessment on the very class OF
people you have already defrauded to the
top of your bent. Corruption of the foul
est sort has been smeared by you all over
the face of this commonwealth. till the
people are stricken helpless and speeches.
under it. Who can help them? Are there
ten lawyers in this state who don't wear
your collar, and whose annual passes from
your road aren't granted them on the
written understanding that such courtesies
are really 'retainers" Then, when try
to help the people you have ground to
the dirt-when 1 try to wipe the filthy
stain from the Mountain states shield
even then you will not fight me fair. as
man to man. You stab in the back. like
any other common felon. and you feel so
secure in your own stolen position that
you actually boast of it, and propose to
continue your damnable knitting tactics.
Why, Caleb Conover you don't even know
how vile a thing you are.'
He paused, breathless, still furious. The
Railroader was leaning back in his big
chair cycling the angry man with genuine
amusement.
You've got the hang of it, murmured
Caleb, half to himself. The regular re-
former shout 1 wouldn't have thought 1t
of you. Honestly, son. it's hard to take
sure you're sayingxwhat's never been said
before and that you're discovering what
no one else ever dreamed OF. II only l
could buy one of you Civic Leaguers at my
own estimate of you, and sell you at your
estimate of yourself. it'd be the biggest deal
l ever made. Now don't get red and try to
think up new platitures to heller at me.
I've listened pretty patient, but think It's
my turn to do little shouting. too. I've
heard you out Now, maybe it'll do you no
harm to make the same return-piay to me.
Sit down You came here to reach an
understanding, and get line on my course,
Ell? Well, you've got big load of fine
words out Of your system in the last few
minutes. I'll answer you as best l can,
and then maybe in future us two'n under
stand each other the better.
In spite of himself, Give Standish listened
This thckset powerful man, whose blaz-
ing temper was proyerbial. had attended
the young candidates rather turgid ar
raignment with every evidence of good
natured interest. He had endured insulting
epithet with almost the air of one who
hearkens to compliment. And, In an
swering, he had spoken so moderately so
at variance with his usual mode of address,
that Standish was utterly puzzled, and was
half ashamed of his own vehemence. What
one of the Boss myriad moods was this,
hat end had he in view? Give
checked his own impulse to depart. After
Conover. had said about the courtesy due
a man who had listened to such TRADE as
his.
Standish remained standing at the table,
looking across with unwilling inquiry at his
host who lounged at ease in his chair,
watching the younger man with grim
smile, as though reading his every thought
Their relative positions were ludicrously
akin to those of judge and prisoner. And
the compelling force that lay behind the
amusement in Calebs light eyes strength
ened the resemblance.
I'm the first place. said the Railroader.
Il think you called me cur. Twice,
believe. you said that. You most likely
thought I'd get mad A cur does get mad
when he's called bad names. But a grown
mans too busy to kick the puppy that yelps
at his heels. A man of sense keeps his
mouth shut unless he's got something to
say. II cur hasn't anything else to yelp
at, he goes out and picks a scrap with the
moon, or at something else that's too big
or too high up to bother to hit back when
he banks at 1t. Me, for instance. So we'h