Twice Landon represented the district in the Legislature, first in the House, then in the Senate. While Commonwealth’s Attorney, he made a startling record; he ran a gambling saloon, a thing it was his sworn duty to ferret out and prosecute. Hazard, chuck-a-luck and other games of chance were played there. It was a new departure in a quiet, religious town; the college boys were drawn in. Judge Mortimer’s little son trotted into it at the heels of a grown-up relative, and going home innocently told his father about “the funny little things they play with; when they win, they take the money; when Mr. Landon wins, he takes it.” In modern parlance, the old judge “pulled” that saloon next evening, bagging thirty of the nicest young fellows in the community. They were indicted for gambling and Landon for keeping a gambling saloon. Landon prosecuted everybody but himself, convicting the last one; then resigned, and McGregor conducted the case against him. His sentence was $100 fine and four months in jail. While in jail he studied law and acquired more knowledge of it than in all the years of his freedom; he had known little about it, shrewdness and sharpness standing him in place of knowledge. A hog-drover was put in the cell with him one night and he won $150 out of him at poker. The Governor pardoned him out at three months. He ran for Commonwealth’s Attorney and was elected; he made an able and efficient officer. He would prosecute unswervingly his closest friend. His political ally built the new jail, Landon getting him the job. “I wonder who will be the first fool to get in here,” he said to Landon. He was; Landon convicted him. Men who despised his principles admired his intellect. In court-room repartee he could take the wind out of McGregor’s sails, and McGregor was past master in the art. He was able, brilliant, unscrupulous, without a moral conscience, but with a keen intellectual one. He was no spendthrift in rascality, economised in employment of evil means, using them no farther than self-interest required. He could show kindness gracefully; ceased to stir up negroes when it ceased to pay. A neighbour who was civil when others snubbed him, went to Washington when Landon, at his zenith, was there in a high Government position, and opened a law office. Landon threw work his way.
One day McGregor, Governor of his State, got a letter from Landon; a great foreign dignitary, visiting this country, was to be entertained at Landon’s palace; would McGregor lend the old State flag to be draped with the Stars and Stripes and the foreigner’s flag over the end of the room where Landon and the dignitary would stand while receiving? McGregor sent it. In the little town in which he tricked and won his way, court was never paid to Landon on account of his wealth and power, but people gradually came to treat him less coldly as he changed with the times. Reconstruction tried men’s souls and morals; a man who went to pieces under temptation sometimes came out a gentleman, or something like it, when temptation was over. Landon won favors of all parties. Cleveland gave him a position. A committee waited upon Mr. McKinley, asking appointment for Landon. Mr. McKinley demurred: “I understand that in the South, Mr. Landon is not considered a gentleman.” “We promised him this if he would render the party the service which he has rendered.” The President had to yield. Roosevelt, who came to the Presidency without election, turned this man down with a firm hand.
THE DEVIL ON THE SANTEE
CHAPTER XXIX
The Devil on the Santee
(A Rice-Planter’s Story)