Editor Earle Clemens, however, had ideas of his own that he told to no one. The electric light was shining in his room long after midnight and his small hand typewriter, which he always carried in his grip, was busy clicking away—presumably writing copy for the columns of his paper. What really occurred however, was this: He wrote two letters on the hotel stationery—one addressed to Hon. Ben Bragdon, and the other addressed to Hon. W. Henry Carlisle, and the envelopes were marked private.
After the letters were duly typewritten, he placed an electric light under a pane of glass with which he had provided himself, elevating the glass by supporting the ends with a couple of books, and then from letters that he had at some former time received from both aspirants cleverly traced and signed the signature of W. Henry Carlisle to one letter and in like manner signed the signature of Ben Bragdon to the other letter—yes, brazen forgeries.
After inclosing them in their respective envelopes, he stole softly out into the hallway and slipped one under the door of Carlisle’s room and the other under the door of Bragdon’s room. Then he went downstairs and bribed the night clerk to call both Bragdon and Carlisle at sharp fifteen minutes before six o’clock. This done, Clemens hastened back to his own apartment for a few hours’ sleep, wondering as he disrobed if the “end would justify the means.”
“There is no question,” he said to himself as he climbed into the bed, “but that the Republican ox is in the ditch and heroic measures are necessary.”
The following morning, when W. Henry Carlisle was awakened by the night clerk calling out softly the hour of seven o’clock, he hastily arose and began dressing, but before he had half finished he spied the letter that had been pushed under his door. Picking it up, he broke the seal and this is what he read:
“My dear Carlisle:—
“It probably requires more bravery to make an apology and to ask to be forgiven than it does to settle differences between gentlemen by the now antiquated ‘code.’
“I here and now tender my apologies for any unkind words I may in the past have spoken derogatory to you, and as an evidence of my candor will pledge you the support of myself and friends for both temporary and permanent chairman at tomorrow’s convention, if you reciprocate this offer of a reconciliation.
“If you are big enough and broad enough and generous enough to accept this overture and desire to bury all past differences and from now on work in harmony together, each helping the other, as did Jonathan and David of old, why, the opportunity is offered, and we will let bygones be bygones.
“If you accept this apology, meet me at the hotel bar early tomorrow morning and merely extend your hand of friendship in greeting. I will understand; but please do not humiliate me by mentioning the fact, even to your best friends, that I have written this letter, and above all do not refer to it at our meeting tomorrow morning or at any future time. It is quite enough if these old differences are wiped off the slate between you and myself without commenting, or permitting comments to be made. I am not unmindful, Carlisle, that you are a great big able man and I want you to be my friend, and I wish to be yours. You have the power to make my nomination for state senator unanimous.