HOW TO PLEASE A SENATOR

The International Hotel in Washington was all hustle and bustle. Was it not preparing for its first Senator since 1885? No less a personage than the Hon. William H. Langdon of Mississippi, said to be a warm personal friend of Senator Stevens, one of the leading members of his party at the capital, had engaged a suit of rooms for himself and two daughters.

“Ain’t it the limit?” remarked the chief clerk to Bud Haines, correspondent of the New York Star. “The Senator wrote us that he was coming here because his old friend, the late Senator Moseley, said back in ’75 that this was the best hotel in Washington and where all the prominent men ought to stay.”

Haines, the ablest political reporter in Washington, had come to the International to interview the new Senator, to describe for his paper what kind of a citizen Langdon was. He glanced around at the dingy woodwork, the worn cushions, the nicked and uneven tiles of the hotel lobby, and smiled at the clerk. “Well, if this is the new Senator’s idea of princely luxury he will fit right into the senatorial atmosphere.” Both laughed derisively. “By the way,” added Haines, “I suppose you’ll raise your rates now that you’ve got a Senator here.”

The clerk brought his fist down on the register with a thud.

“We could have them every day if we wanted them. This fellow, though, we’ll have all winter, I guess. His son’s here now. Been breaking all records for drinking. Congressman Norton of Mississippi has been down here with him a few times. There young Langdon is now.”

Haines turned quickly, just in time to bump into a tall, slender young man, who was walking unevenly in the direction of the cafe.

“Well, can’t you see what you’re doing?” muttered the tall young man thickly.

Haines smiled. The chap who has played halfback four years on his college eleven and held the boxing championship in his class is apt to be good-natured. He does not have to take offense easily. Besides, Randolph Langdon was plainly under the influence of whisky. So Haines smiled pleasantly at the taller young man.

“Beg your pardon my fault,” Haines said.

“Well, don’t let it occur again,” mumbled Langdon, as he strolled with uneven dignity toward the door. Bud Haines laughed.

“I guess young Langdon is going to be one of the boys, isn’t he?”

“He’s already one of them when it comes to a question of fluid capacity,” laughed some one behind him, and Bud whirled to meet the gaze of his friend, Dick Gullen, representative of one of the big Chicago dailies.

“You down here to see Langdon, too?” commented Bud.

Cullen nodded. “Queer roost where this Senator is to hang out, isn’t it?”

“He can’t be a rich one, then,” suggested Haines.

Cullen chuckled.

“Perhaps he’s an honest one.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. You always were original, Dickie,” commented Haines, dryly. “By the way, what do you know about him?”

“Nothing, except that the Evening Call printed a picture of his eldest daughter says she’s the queen daughter of the South, a famous beauty, rich planter for a father, mother left her a fortune ”

“She’ll cut quite a social caper with this hotel’s name on her cards, won’t she?” broke in Haines, as he led Cullen to a seat to await the expected legislator, whose train was late.

“I don’t know very much about him myself,” said Haines. “All I’ve been able to discover is that Stevens said the word which elected him, and that looks bad. Great glory! When I think what a Senator of the right sort has a chance to do here in Washington a nonpartisan, straight-out-from-the-shoulder man!” He paused to shake his head in disgust. “You know these fellows here in the Senate don’t even see their chance. Why, if you and I didn’t do any more to hold our jobs than they do, we’d be fired by wire the first day. They know just the old political game, that’s all.”

“Its a great game, though, Bud,” sighed Cullen, longingly, for, like many newspaper men, he had the secret feeling that he was cut out to be a great politician.

“Sure, it’s a great game, as a game,” agreed Haines. “So is bridge, and stud poker, and three-card monte, and flim-flam generally. Take this new man Langdon, for instance. Chosen by Stevens, he’ll probably be perfectly obedient, perfectly easy going, perfectly blind and perfectly useless. What’s wanted now is to get the work done, not play the game.”

Thoroughly a cynic through his years of experience as a newspaper man, which had shown the inside workings of many important phases of the seemingly conventional life of this complex world, Cullen pretended unbounded enthusiasm.

“Hear! hear!” he shouted. “All you earnest citizens come vote for Reformer Haines. I’m for you, Bud. What do I get in your cabinet? I’ve joined the reformers, too, and, like all of them, me for P-U-R-I-T-Y as long as she gives me a meal ticket.”

But not even Cullen could make Haines consider his views on the necessity of political regeneration to be ridiculous. His optimism could not be snuffed out, for he was a genuine believer that the natural tendency of humankind was to do right. Wrong he believed to be the outcome of unnatural causes. This quality, combined with his practical knowledge of the world and his courage, made him a formidable man, one who would one day accomplish big things if he got the chance.

“You know you can’t shut me up, Dick,” was his response to Cullen’s oratorical flight. “I’m going to have my say. I don’t see why a Senator shouldn’t be honest. All I want them to do is to play a new game. Let ’em at least seem to be honest, attend to their business, forget politics. The country sends them here to work, and if they do the work the people really don’t care a hang what party they belong to.”

“Come out of it, Bud. Your brain is wabbly,” yawned Cullen, wearily. “I’ll buy a drink if you’ll quiet down. Let’s be comfortable till this fellow Langdon appears.” He caught his friend by the arm and in spite of protest dragged him off to the cafe just as young Langdon and Congressman Norton came down through the lobby.

Though but few years older than Randolph Langdon, Charles Norton had long exercised strong influence over him because of his wider experience in the world’s affairs. Like his father, young Langdon had stayed close to the plantation most of his life, particularly after leaving school, devoting his attention to studying the business of conducting the family’s big estate. Norton brought him the atmosphere of the big outside world he yearned to see even as did his sister Carolina, and he imitated Norton’s manners, his dress and mode of speech. The Congressman’s habit of confiding in Randolph, a subtle compliment, was deeply appreciated by the lad, who unconsciously became a continual advertiser of Norton’s many virtues to Carolina and to his father, all of which the Congressman knew.

That Norton’s political career was the outcome of Carolina Langdon’s ambition to shine in gay society was known to his friends as well as his family, and his desire to win her and place her where she could satisfy every whim had developed almost to a frenzy. Seeing evidences of Senator Stevens’ vast influence, he did not hesitate to seek a close relationship with him, and the Senator was clever enough to lead Norton to consider him his friend.

At the start of his political career Norton had higher ideas of honor than guided his actions now that he had become a part of the political machine that controlled his native State of Mississippi, and of the bipartisan combination that dominated both houses of Congress in the interest of the great railway and industrial corporations. Senator Stevens and other powers had so distorted Norton’s view of the difference between public and private interests and their respective rights that he had come to believe captial to be the sacred heritage of the nation which must be protected at any cost. The acceptance of a retainer from the C. St. and P. Railroad Company for wholly unnecessary services in Washington only another way of buying a man a transaction arranged by Senator Stevens, was but another stage in the disintegration of the young Congressman’s character, but it brought him just that much closer to the point where he could claim Carolina Langdon as his own. And opportunity does not knock twice at a man’s door unless he is at the head of the machine.

Norton, the persevering young law student who loved the girl who had been his boyhood playmate, was now Norton who coveted her father’s lands, who boasted that he was on the “inside” in Washington, who was on the way to fortune if the new Senator from Mississippi would or could be forced to stand in favor of the Altacoola naval base.

His conversation with Randolph Langdon, as Haines and Cullen saw them pass through the hotel lobby, illustrated the nature of the Norton of the present and his interest in the Altacoola scheme.

“There’s no reason why you shouldn’t come in on the ground floor in this proposition, Randolph,” he was urging in continuance of the conversation begun over a table in the cafe. “No reason why you shouldn’t do it, my boy. Why, are you still a child, or are you really a man? You have now drafts for $50,000, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” agreed Langdon, chagrined at Norton’s insinuation of youthfulness and anxious to prove that he was really a man of affairs, “I’ve got the fifty thousand, Charlie, but but, you see, that’s the money for improvements on the plantation. As father has put me in as manager I want to make a showing.”

“You can’t make it until spring,” urged Norton. “The money’s got to lie in the bank all winter. Now, why don’t you make a hundred thousand with it instead of letting it lie idle? Isn’t that simple?”

The younger man’s eyes opened wide, and his imagination, stimulated by the special brand of Bourbon whisky Norton had ordered for him, took rapid bounds.

“One hundred thousand! You mean I could make a hundred thousand with my fifty between now and spring?”

“Sure as a nigger likes gin,” replied Norton, confidently.

“How?” asked Langdon.

The young Congressman leaned over confidentially.

“This is under your hat, Randolph. You can keep quiet?”

Langdon nodded eagerly.

“Then put it into Altacoola land.”

“The naval base?” gasped Langdon.

Norton nodded.

“Now you’ve hit it. The Government will select Altacoola for a naval base. Then land will jump ’way up to never, and you’ll clean up a hundred thousand at the least. Isn’t it simple? There are, a thousand people with money who would just love to have this chance. And I’m giving it to you because of our friendship. I want to do you a good turn. I’ve got my money in there.”

Young Langdon was visibly impressed.

“You’ve always treated me right, Charlie; you’ve been for me, I know. But suppose the Government doesn’t select Altacoola. Gulf City’s in the running.”

Norton laughed sarcastically.

“Gulf City is a big bunch of mud flats. Besides, I’ll tell you something else. Just between us, remember.” He waited for the boy’s eager nod before he went on. “The big men are behind Altacoola. Standard Steel wants Altacoola, and what Standard Steel wants from Congress you can bet your bottom dollar Standard Steel gets. They know their business at N Broadway. Now, then, are you satisfied?”

Randolph was more than satisfied. Already he felt himself rich, and honestly rich, too, for Norton had convinced him that there was no reason why he should not use the $50,000 of his father’s, when it had to lie in the bank anyhow all winter, and he would have it back in time to use on the plantation in the spring when it was needed. How proud of him his father would be when he showed him a clear profit of $100,000!

“I’ll go get the drafts at once, Charlie, and I’m mighty much obliged to you,” he said, with gratitude in his voice.

Norton’s smile was one of deep satisfaction.

“That’s all right, Randolph. You know I want to do anything I can for you.”

Randolph was starting for his room when Haines and Cullen turned sharply around the corner of the hotel desk. Again Bud and the young Southerner accidentally collided.

“Where are you going? Can’t you look out?” blurted Langdon.

Haines grinned.

“Guess it’s your fault this time.”

“Oh, it is, is it?” irritably replied Randolph, who as the “young marse” had been accustomed to considerable deference on the plantation. “Well, take that,” he angrily cried, aiming a savage swing at Haines.

The reporter’s athletic training proved of ready service. Dodging under the clenched fist, he turned dexterously, seized young Langdon’s outstretched wrist and bent the arm down over his (Haines’) shoulder as though to throw the young attacker with the wrestler’s “flying mare.” Langdon was helpless, as Haines had also secured his free hand, but instead of completing the “throw” the reporter walked away with his foe held securely on his back to put him to bed, a kindly service, in view of Randolph’s mental state.

From across the lobby Charles Norton had watched Randolph’s discomfiting encounter with Haines with amusement.

“Now that I’ve got the young fellow to sew up his old man’s money in Altacoola land,” he chuckled, “reckon Senator William H. Langdon won’t see anything wrong with that same noble tract of universe when he comes to vote for the naval base. Senator Stevens will be pleased.”