The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) by Arthur B. Reeve (top 10 motivational books .txt) 📕

It Would Have Taken No Great Astuteness,  Even Without Seeing The

Surroundings,  To Deduce Instantly That They Were Engaged In The

Annual Struggle Of Seeking The Votes Of Their Fellow-Citizens For

Something Or Other,  And Were Nearly Worn Out By The Arduous Nature

Of That Process.

Their Headquarters Were In A Tower Of A Skyscraper,  Whence Poured

Forth A Torrent Of Appeal To The Moral Sense Of The Electorate,

Both In Printed And Oral Form. Yet There Was A Different Tone To

The Place From That Which I Had Ordinarily Associated With

Political Headquarters In Previous Campaigns. There Was An Absence

Of The Old-Fashioned Politicians And Of The Air Of Intrigue Laden

With Tobacco. Rather,  There Was An Air Of Earnestness And

Efficiency Which Was Decidedly Prepossessing. Maps Of The State

Were Hanging On The Walls,  Some Stuck Full Of Various Coloured

Pins Denoting The Condition Of The Canvass. A Map Of The City In

Colours,  Divided Into All Sorts Of Districts,  Told How Fared The

Battle In The Stronghold Of The Boss,  Billy Mcloughlin. Huge

Systems Of Card Indexes,  Loose Leaf Devices,  Labour-Saving

Appliances For Getting Out A Vast Mass Of Campaign "Literature" In

A Hurry,  In Short A Perfect System,  Such As A Great,  Well-Managed

Business Might Have Been Proud Of,  Were In Evidence Everywhere.

Wesley Travis Was A Comparatively Young Man,  A Lawyer Who Had

Early Made A Mark In Politics And Had Been Astute Enough To Shake

Off The Thraldom Of The Bosses Before The Popular Uprising Against

Them. Now He Was The Candidate Of The Reform League For Governor

And A Good Stiff Campaign He Was Putting Up.

His Campaign Manager,  Dean Bennett,  Was A Business Man Whose

Financial Interests Were Opposed To Those Usually Understood To Be

Behind Billy Mcloughlin,  Of The Regular Party To Which Both Travis

And Bennett Might Naturally Have Been Supposed To Belong In The

Old Days. Indeed The Reform League Owed Its Existence To A

Fortunate Conjunction Of Both Moral And Economic Conditions

Demanding Progress.

"Things Have Been Going Our Way Up To The Present," Began Travis

Confidentially,  When We Were Seated Democratically With Our

Campaign Cigars Lighted. "Of Course We Haven't Such A Big 'Barrel'

As Our Opponents,  For We Are Not Frying The Fat Out Of The

Corporations. But The People Have Supported Us Nobly,  And I Think

The Opposition Of The Vested Interests Has Been A Great Help. We

Seem To Be Winning,  And I Say 'Seem' Only Because One Can Never Be

Certain How Anything Is Going In This Political Game Nowadays.

"You Recall,  Mr. Kennedy,  Reading In The Papers That My Country

House Out On Long Island Was Robbed The Other Day? Some Of The

Reporters Made Much Of It. To Tell The Truth,  I Think They Had

Become So Satiated With Sensations That They Were Sure That The

Thing Was Put Up By Some Muckrakers And That There Would Be An

Expose Of Some Kind. For The Thief,  Whoever He Was,  Seems To Have

Taken Nothing From My Library But A Sort Of Scrap-Book Or Album Of

Photographs. It Was A Peculiar Robbery,  But As I Had Nothing To

Conceal It Didn't Worry Me. Well,  I Had All But Forgotten It When

A Fellow Came Into Bennett's Office Here Yesterday And Demanded--

Tell Us What It Was,  Bennett. You Saw Him."

Bennett Cleared His Throat. "You See,  It Was This Way. He Gave His

Name As Harris Hanford And Described Himself As A Photographer. I

Think He Has Done Work For Billy Mcloughlin. At Any Rate,  His

Offer Was To Sell Us Several Photographs,  And His Story About Them

Was Very Circumstantial. He Hinted That They Had Been Evidently

Among Those Stolen From Mr. Travis And That In A Roundabout Way

They Had Come Into The Possession Of A Friend Of His Without His

Knowing Who The Thief Was. He Said That He Had Not Made The

Photographs Himself,  But Had An Idea By Whom They Were Made,  That

The Original Plates Had Been Destroyed,  But That The Person Who

Made Them Was Ready To Swear That The Pictures Were Taken After

The Nominating Convention This Fall Which Had Named Travis. At Any

Rate The Photographs Were Out And The Price For Them Was $25,000."

"What Are They That He Should Set Such A Price On Them?" Asked

Kennedy,  Keenly Looking From Bennett Quickly To Travis.

Travis Met His Look Without Flinching. "They Are Supposed To Be

Photographs Of Myself," He Replied Slowly. "One Purports To

Represent Me In A Group On Mcloughlin's Porch At His Farm On The

South Shore Of The Island,  About Twenty Miles From My Place. As

Hanford Described It,  I Am Standing Between Mcloughlin And J.

Cadwalader Brown,  The Trust Promoter Who Is Backing Mcloughlin To

Save His Investments. Brown's Hand Is On My Shoulder And We Are

Talking Familiarly. Another Is A Picture Of Brown,  Mcloughlin,  And

Myself Riding In Brown's Car,  And In It Brown And I Are Evidently

On The Best Of Terms. Oh,  There Are Several Of Them,  All In The

Same Vein. Now," He Added,  And His Voice Rose With Emotion As If

He Were Addressing A Cart-Tail Meeting Which Must Be Convinced

That There Was Nothing Criminal In Riding In A Motor-Car,  "I Don't

Hesitate To Admit That A Year Or So Ago I Was Not On Terms Of

Intimacy With These Men,  But At Least Acquainted With Them. At

Various Times,  Even As Late As Last Spring,  I Was Present At

Conferences Over The Presidential Outlook In This State,  And Once

I Think I Did Ride Back To The City With Them. But I Know That

There Were No Pictures Taken,  And Even If There Had Been I Would

Not Care If They Told The Truth About Them. I Have Frankly

Admitted In My Speeches That I Knew These Men,  That My Knowledge

Of Them And Breaking From Them Is My Chief Qualification For

Waging An Effective War On Them If I Am Elected. They Hate Me

Cordially. You Know That. What I Do Care About Is The Sworn

Allegation That Now Accompanies These--These Fakes. They Were Not,

Could Not Have Been Taken After The Independent Convention That

Nominated Me. If The Photographs Were True I Would Be A Fine

Traitor. But I Haven't Even Seen Mcloughlin Or Brown Since Last

Spring. The Whole Thing Is A--"

"Lie From Start To Finish," Put In Bennett Emphatically. "Yes,

Travis,  We All Know That. I'd Quit Right Now If I Didn't Believe

In You. But Let Us Face The Facts. Here Is This Story,  Sworn To As

Hanford Says And Apparently Acquiesced In By Billy Mcloughlin And

Cad. Brown. What Do They Care Anyhow As Long As It Is Against You?

And There,  Too,  Are The Pictures Themselves--At Least They Will Be

In Print Or Suppressed,  According As We Act. Now,  You Know That

Nothing Could Hurt The Reform Ticket Worse Than To Have An Issue

Like This Raised At This Time. We Were Supposed At Least To Be On

The Level,  With Nothing To Explain Away. There May Be Just Enough

People To Believe That There Is Some Basis For This Suspicion To

Turn The Tide Against Us. If It Were Earlier In The Campaign I'd

Say Accept The Issue,  Fight It Out To A Finish,  And In The Turn Of

Events We Should Really Have The Best Campaign Material. But It Is

Too Late Now To Expose Such A Knavish Trick Of Theirs On The

Friday Before Election. Frankly,  I Believe Discretion Is The

Better Part Of Valour In This Case And Without Abating A Jot Of My

Faith In You,  Travis,  Well,  I'd Pay First And Expose The Fraud

Afterward,  After The Election,  At Leisure."

"No,  I Won't," Persisted Travis,  Shutting His Square Jaw Doggedly.

"I Won't Be Held Up."

The Door Had Opened And A Young Lady In A Very Stunning Street

Dress,  With A Huge Hat And A Tantalising Veil,  Stood In It For A

Moment,  Hesitated,  And Then Was About To Shut It With An Apology

For Intruding On A Conference.

"I'll Fight It If It Takes My Last Dollar," Declared Travis,  "But

I Won't Be Blackmailed Out Of A Cent. Good-Morning,  Miss Ashton.

I'll Be Free In A Moment. I'll See You In Your Office Directly."

The Girl,  With A Portfolio Of Papers In Her Hand,  Smiled,  And

Travis Quickly Crossed The Room And Held The Door Deferentially

Open As He Whispered A Word Or Two. When She Had Disappeared He

Returned And Remarked,  "I Suppose You Have Heard Of Miss Margaret

Ashton,  The Suffragette Leader,  Mr. Kennedy? She Is The Head Of

Our Press Bureau." Then A Heightened Look Of Determination Set His

Fine Face In Hard Lines,  And He Brought His Fist Down On The Desk.

"No,  Not A Cent," He Thundered.

Bennett Shrugged His Shoulders Hopelessly And Looked At Kennedy In

Mock Resignation As If To Say,  "What Can You Do With Such A

Fellow?" Travis Was Excitedly Pacing The Floor And Waving His Arms

As If He Were Addressing A Meeting In The Enemy's Country.

"Hanford Comes At Us In This Way," He Continued,  Growing More

Excited As He Paced Up And Down. "He Says Plainly That The

Pictures Will Of Course Be Accepted As Among Those Stolen From Me,

And In That,  I Suppose,  He Is Right. The Public Will Swallow It.

When Bennett Told Him I Would Prosecute He Laughed And Said,  'Go

Ahead. I Didn't Steal The Pictures. That Would Be A Great Joke For

Travis To Seek Redress From The Courts He Is Criticising. I Guess

He'd Want To Recall The Decision If It Went Against Him--Hey?'

Hanford Says That A Hundred Copies Have Been Made Of Each Of The

Photographs And That This Person,  Whom We Do Not Know,  Has Them

Ready To Drop Into The Mail To The One Hundred Leading Papers Of

The State In Time For Them To Appear In The Monday Editions Just

Before Election Day. He Says No Amount Of Denying On Our Part Can

Destroy The Effect--Or At Least He Went Further And Said 'Shake

Their Validity.'

"But I Repeat. They Are False. For All I Know,  It Is A Plot Of

Mcloughlin's,  The Last Fight Of A Boss For His Life,  Driven Into A

Corner. And It Is Meaner Than If He Had Attempted To Forge A

Letter. Pictures Appeal To The Eye And Mind Much More Than

Letters. That's What Makes The Thing So Dangerous. Billy

Mcloughlin Knows How To Make The Best Use Of Such A Roorback On

The Eve Of An Election,  And Even If I Not Only Deny But Prove That

They Are A Fake,  I'm Afraid The Harm Will Be Done. I Can't Reach

All The Voters In Time. Ten See Such A Charge To One Who Sees The

Denial."

"Just So," Persisted Bennett Coolly. "You Admit That We Are

Practically Helpless. That's What I Have Been Saying All Along.

Get Control Of The Prints First,  Travis,  For God's Sake. Then

Raise Any Kind Of A Howl You Want--Before Election Or After. As I

Say,  If We Had A Week Or Two It Might Be All Right To Fight. But

We Can Make No Move Without Making Fools Of Ourselves Until They

Are Published Monday As The Last Big Thing Of The