The citizen. (Honesdale, Pa.) 1908-1914, 1913-02-28
! easily trlentehse. h.ssi.

won't do It."
Haig seated himself on the table, the
homely, cadaverous features lighting
up in sardonic grin. "Now the funny
part Of 1t is, you aren't sure whether
I'm bluffing or not. Let me assure
you. I am not. We're a pretty tri-
angle, each with the drop on the man
in front of him. You hold over Dun
meade's head the fact of Hampden's
disgrace, he gets me with his friend
ship and I can bring you down with
my knowledge of this bank business.
I'd hate to lose Dunmende's regard
by confronting him with the necessity
of prosecuting his lady loves father.
But, by the Lord! I'm not afraid to fire
first. And think you believe that"
Murchell did not answer. He was
making a strong effort to control his
rising irritation. But he listened in
tently because he did not know Haig
well enough to decide whether the lat
ter was really dangerous.
"You think my motive is lacking per-
haps?" Haig inquired coolly. do you
remember Wrenn-George Wrenn of
Clarion-or have there been so many
Wrenns that you can't keep track Of
them? Let me tell you his story. He
was a preacher-not a very strong
man, but a fine. big, clean hearted fel-
low-something like John Dunmeade-
who believed in his fellowmen and
loved them, the kind that would sit up
all night with any pool, suffering
wretch or share his last dollar with
those who needed 1t less than he did
Everybody loved him. He married
widow who had one son. He was
good husband and a perfect father to
that boy. l know, because l was the
boy. They had reform wavelet in
Clarion and sent Wrenn to the legisla-
ture. That was the year you almost
failed of reelection to the senate. 1t
cost you million and a quarter to
win. you may remember. There was
point where you needed just one vote,
and your decoys got after Wrenn. He
held out for awhile. but Oh. you
know how it works. He was poor.
there was more money in sight than
he had ever heard of. and they found
his price-at SIT 900. And he was cheap.
too. comparatively. l think he must
have been temporarily out of his mind.
for he didn't really care for money.
He went home shame broken man.
They couldn't prove it on him but
everybody knew he had taken money.
They turned against him. his wife died
broken hearted. and he had to leave
Clarion. The money was soon spent;
that kind never lasts. He went down
hill fast and finally, miserable.
drunken wretch. he put a bullet
through his head. / saw him do it
just as Warrep Blake did 1t. So you
can cut still another notch in your gun
eight on the list tnow-Creighton'-
"Quit thar
Good God" Haig jeered, 81 believe
he has a conscience, after all. Can
you sleep o. nights, Senator Murchell?"
Murchell got slowly to his feet, in
his eyes light SO terrible that even
Haig for a moment was startled.
White heat consumes quickly. The
dumb passion soon burned itself out.
The rigid pose melted into one of
utter weariness.
He wouldn't take it-at my hands"
The arrogant habit of a lifetime had
ceased to protest.
"Dunmeade? Oh. that's a problem
in psychology. l think he will. In
fact l know it, since / came here with
full power of attorney from him. With
men like Dunmeade the first compro-
mise is the crucial one. AS to means,
you will find him more tractable,
fancy. My own opinion is he will be
a more useful man for it. He won't
be very happy at first, though. I'll be
saying good night"
He took few steps toward the door,
then stopped, hesitating. He turned
back. His insolent. overbearing man
ner fell from him.
Senator" he said quietly, 81 may
have overdone It, Wrenn, Blake, all
those fellows aren't worth a qualm.
Dnnmeade is''-
But Murchell was not listening. He
had forgotten Haig. He was watch
ing the second birth of a young man
who once had been.
Not the next day, nor the next, but
on the third, the travail ended, Will
liam Murchell emerged from his brief,
mysterious retirement to place himself
at the head of his clamorous troops.
1t has been said that the campaign
which followed was the most brilliant
of his career.
Continued in Next Fridays Issue.)
THOMAS A. EDTSON'S