Of all this Uncle Billy was as much a layman spectator as any tramp who crept into the gallery for a few hours out of the cold. The hurry and seethe of the racing sea touched him not at all, except to bewilderment, while he was carried with it, unknowing, toward the breakers. The shout of those breakers was already in the ears of many, for the crisis of the session was coming. This was the fight that was to be made on Hurlbut's “Railroad Bill,” which was, indeed, but in another sense, known as the “Breaker.”
Uncle Billy had heard of the “Breaker.” He couldn't have helped that. He had heard a dozen say: “Then's when it's going to be warm times, when that 'Breaker' comes up!” or, “Look out for that 'Breaker.' We're going to have big trouble.” He knew, too, that Hurlbut was interested in the “Breaker,” but upon which side he was for a long time ignorant.
Hurlbut always nodded to the old man, now, as he came down the aisle to his own desk. He had begun that, the day after the Constellation item. Uncle Billy never failed to be in his seat early in the morning, waiting for the nod. He answered it with his usual “Howdy-do, sir,” then stroked his beard and gazed profoundly at the row of fat volumes in front of him, swallowing painfully once or twice.
This was all that really happened for Uncle Billy during the turmoil and scramble that went on about him all the day long. He had not been forced to discover a way to meet an offer of $1,500, without hurting the putative giver's feelings. No lobbyist had the faintest idea of “approaching” the old man in that way. The members and the hordes of camp-followers and all the lobby had settled into a belief that Representative Rollinson was a sea-green Incorruptible, that of all honest members he was the most honest. He had become typical of honesty: sayings were current—“You might as well try to bribe Uncle Billy Rollinson!” “As honest as old Uncle Billy Rollinson.” Hurlbut often used such phrases in private.
The “Breaker” was Hurlbut's own bill; he had planned it and written it, though it came over to the House from the Senate under a Senator's name. It was one of those “anti-monopolistic” measures which Democrats put their whole hearts into, sometimes, and believe in and fight for magnificently; an idea conceived in honesty and for a beneficent purpose, in the belief that a legislature by the wave of a hand can conjure the millennium to appear; and born out of an utter misconception of man and railroads. The bill needs no farther description than this: if it passed and became an enforced law, the dividends of every rail road entering the State would be reduced by two-fifths. There is one thing that will fight harder than a Democrat—that is a railroad.
The “Breaker” had been kept very dark until Hurlbut felt that he was ready; then it was swept through the Senate before the railroad lobby, previously lulled into unsuspicion, could collect itself and block it. This was as Hurlbut had planned: that the fight should be in his own House. It was the bill of his heart and he set his reputation upon it. He needed fifty-one votes to pass it, and he had them, and one to spare; for he took his followers, who formed the majority, into caucus upon it. It was in the caucus Uncle Billy learned that Hurlbut was “for” the bill. He watched the leader with humble, wavering eyes, thinking how strong and clear his voice was, and wondering if he never lit the cigar he always carried in his hand, or if he ever got into trouble, like Henry, being a young man. If he did, Uncle Billy would have liked the chance to help him out.
He had plenty of such chances with Henry; indeed, the opportunity may be said to have become unintermittent, and Uncle Billy was never free from a dim fear of the day when his son would get in so deeply that he could not get him out. Verily, the day seemed near at hand: Henry's letters were growing desperate and the old man walked the floor of his little room at night, more and more hopeless. Once or twice, even as he sat at his desk in the House, his eyes became so watery that he forced himself into long spells of coughing, to account for it, in case any one might be noticing him.
The caucus was uneventful and quiet, for it had all been talked over, and was no more than a matter of form.
The Republicans did not caucus upon the bill (they had reasons), but they were solidly against it. Naturally it follows that the assault of the railroad lobby had to be made upon the virtue of the Democrats as Democrats. That is, whether a member upon the majority side cared about the bill for its own sake of not, right or wrong, he felt it his duty as a Democrat to vote for it. If he had a conscience higher than a political conscience, and believed the bill was bad, his duty was to “bolt the caucus”; but all of the Democratic side believed in the righteousness of the bill, except two. One had already been bought and the other was Uncle Billy, who knew nothing about it, except that Hurlbut was “for” it and it seemed to be making a “big stir.”