The Honorable Peter Stirling and What People Thought of Him

by Paul Leicester Ford

Peter rose, and the man did the same instantly, putting one of his hands on his hip-pocket. But even before he did it, Peter had begun speaking, in a quiet, self-contained voice: “That sounds so like Mr. Maguire, that I think we have the message at last. Go to him, and say that I have received his message. That I know him, and I know his methods. That I understand his hopes of driving me, as he has some, from his path, by threats of private scandal. That, judging others by himself, he believes no man’s life can bear probing. Tell him that he has misjudged for once. Tell him that he has himself decided me in my determination to accept the nomination. That rather than see him the nominee of the Democratic party, I will take it myself. Tell him to set on his blood-hounds. They are welcome to all they can unearth in my life.”

Peter turned towards his door, intending to leave the room, for he was not quite sure that he could sustain this altitude, if he saw more of the man. But as his hand was on the knob, Curlew spoke again.

“One moment,” he called. “We’ve got something more to say to you. We have proof already.”

Peter turned, with an amused look on his face. “I was wondering,” he said, “if Maguire really expected to drive me with such vague threats.”

“No siree,” said Curlew with a self-assured manner, but at the same time putting Peter’s desk between the clerk and himself, so that his flank could not be turned. “We’ve got some evidence that won’t be sweet reading for you, and we’re going to print it, if you take the nomination.”

“Tell Mr. Maguire he had better put his evidence in print at once. That I shall take the nomination.”

“And disgrace one of your best friends?” asked Curlew.

Peter started slightly, and looked sharply at the man.

“Ho, ho,” said Curlew. “That bites, eh? Well, it will bite worse before it’s through with.”

Peter stood silent for a moment, but his hands trembled slightly, and any one who understood anatomy could have recognized that every muscle in his body was at full tension. But all he said was: “Well?”