Calhoun’s companion laughed. “It’s not surprising that the cartoonists caricature you as a saffron-hued jingoist.”
“Let them,” Calhoun shrugged his broad shoulders. “They’ll reverse themselves, as did the Administration in the matter of the Panama Canal tolls,—the price of our coastal rights being the sop thrown to England to keep us out of war with her ally, Japan.”
“Well, what England did once she may do again,” retorted the other lazily.
“With America prepared we will require no nation’s intervention in our behalf,” declared Calhoun proudly. “But until we are——” The speaker rose and paced back and forth. “Dreaming of vast empire, the foremost men of Japan are planning and scheming for that nation’s territorial advancement.”
“You’ll have some difficulty convincing America of that fact,” said his companion skeptically.
“True.” Calhoun struck his clenched fist into his left hand. “The majority of Americans think me a dreamer, or, at worst, a war-mad jingoist. Yesterday a high government official declared: ‘If Calhoun had half the brains he thinks he has, he’d be half-witted.’ The fools!” added Calhoun bitterly. “It’s cheap to ridicule me, cheaper even than burying dead Americans in trenches. Japan is crouching for the spring; racial hatred is fanning the flame, and her emissaries are everywhere. I’d willingly give $10,000 to the man who will unearth and expose the Japanese cabal which, I believe, as I believe in God, is being conducted in Washington City today right under the nose of our government officials.”
His companion laid down his unopened cigarette case, his eyes for a second seeking the paper still held on the floor by his foot—“By order of the Court”—a sudden movement and his other foot covered the words.
“Get out your check book, Calhoun,” he said. “I will go to Washington.”
CHAPTER II
THE MAN FROM CALIFORNIA
Julian Barclay scanned the total of a column of figures with a wry face; his card game of the night before had been costly, and with an inward resolve to forego another, he looked out of the smoking-car window. But the flying landscape did not hold his attention, and his eyes wandered back to his fellow passengers, the majority of whom were well-to-do tourists, several commercial travelers, and a few professional men. Not far from him sat Professor Norcross in animated conversation with Dr. Shively who, with Barclay, had boarded the fast California express at New Orleans. Barclay’s glance traveled on until it reached the man who had made the fourth at the card game. He had taken a dislike to Dwight Tilghman, for during the game he had received the impression that he was being quietly watched. The belief had grown upon him as the play progressed, and the quiet espionage had bred resentment. Tilghman’s indolent slowness of movement had been in direct contrast [Pg 7]to his intent watchfulness, and Barclay had wondered if Dr. Shively and Professor Norcross had thought Tilghman’s manner peculiar. Richard Norcross, known to Barclay by his fame as a naturalist but met for the first time in the train the night before, had been Tilghman’s traveling companion for some days.