A Man of Two Countries

by Alice Harriman

But silent Charlie was thinking that his opportunity had come. During the past weeks he had observed, with his usual calm, the trend of events. He had been inclined to promise Mrs. Latimer the boon she asked, for he would be glad to promote Judge Latimer's advancement (remembering the fine that Latimer had paid at Fort Macleod), even if in doing so he should aid the man he hated for stealing his squaw. But Charlie was beginning to forget the judge's kindness in his passion for the judge's wife. He realized that as soon as he cast his vote for Burroughs all the advances and marks of favor which stamp a lobbyist of the sex without a franchise would be a thing of the past—an episode to be forgotten. He had quite lost sight of the commandment, "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife." Instead, he was dreaming over the fact of a possible possession.

Knowing too well the paucity of his bank account, he was tempted to play both sides—to make a big strike with Moore, and to press his half-repulsed, half-accepted passion until Eva Latimer should consent to his plans for the future. To sum the matter up: He meant to get more than anyone else from this business of electing a United States senator. Never mind Winifred. The lure of inviting eyes had so completely ensnared him that during these days of intrigue he had almost forgotten the existence of his sister in the alternate intoxication of Eva's companionship and the less dangerous one of liquor.

The host grew impatient as his guest made no effort to reopen the conversation. He drank his coffee with a jerk and drew an envelope from his pocket. It was stuffed with bills, and a torn corner showed the figures "1000." Moore pulled it out and threw it across the table. "There! That's what Burroughs and I do business with," he exclaimed. "'Tisn't so heavy as gold, nor as pretty; but it's a pretty good substitute. It's not intended to influence your vote," he hastened to add, as he noted the senator's expression; "it just shows you that my feelings are agreeable toward you—and that pretty sister of yours."

"Leave my sister out of it, please," commanded Blair, with dignity. "I can't use a thousand-dollar bank note. I'm not in the habit of flashing bills of that denomination."

"You will be if you tie to us," suggested the tempter. "Thousand-dollar bills will be as common in Helena in a few days as nickels in a contribution box. I'm about out of 'em myself, but the old man's bringing in a stack to-night. They come in right handy for contingent expenses."

"I suppose so," assented Blair, pocketing the money with a fine air of preoccupation that made the Honorable William smile the smile of the canary-nourished cat. "If there's any money going I'd like to get my share of it, of course, if it could be done without my sister knowing it. But I'll not vote for Burroughs until the last one. Perhaps then I'll see about changing if you are sure that you have a majority."

Moore rapidly ran over a list of names. "Will that satisfy you?" he demanded. "You see, I trust you. Every man I have named will vote for Burroughs whenever I say so. I may never call on them all—I won't unless I have to. But"—the pause was purposely impressive—"they are to have their money whether they are called upon or not, and so will you, provided that Burroughs is elected."

"You'll never make me believe that Joe Hall can be bought—not until I hear him give his vote for Robert Burroughs. I notice you have him listed. He hates Bob more than I do, and that's saying a good deal."

"He was the easiest one of the whole bunch. He was the cheapest, and he's afraid he won't earn his money."

"Does Burroughs sanction all this?" Senator Blair was amazed, not so much at the men bought as at the sum total that must have been expended. Why was Burroughs so anxious to go to Congress? He did not need the money that was popularly supposed to accrue to senators in Washington from land grants, timber lands and other large steals; he had millions already.