little trifle, a small token of esteem, for your brother-in-law. Oh, let
us come out and be frank with each other: I know you, Mr. Trollop.
I have met you on business three or four times; true, I never offered to
corrupt your principles–never hinted such a thing; but always when I had
finished sounding you, I manipulated you through an agent. Let us be
frank. Wear this comely disguise of virtue before the public–it will
count there; but here it is out of place. My dear sir, by and by there
is going tp be an investigation into that National Internal Improvement
Directors’ Relief Measure of a few years ago, and you know very well that
you will be a crippled man, as likely as not, when it is completed.”
“It cannot be shown that a man is a knave merely for owning that stock.
I am not distressed about the National Improvement Relief Measure.”
“Oh indeed I am not trying to distress you. I only wished, to make good
my assertion that I knew you. Several of you gentlemen bought of that
stack (without paying a penny down) received dividends from it, (think of
the happy idea of receiving dividends, and very large ones, too, from
stock one hasn’t paid for!) and all the while your names never appeared
in the transaction; if ever you took the stock at all, you took it in
other people’s names. Now you see, you had to know one of two things;
namely, you either knew that the idea of all this preposterous generosity
was to bribe you into future legislative friendship, or you didn’t know
it. That is to say, you had to be either a knave or a–well, a fool–
there was no middle ground. You are not a fool, Mr. Trollop.”
“Miss Hawking you flatter me. But seriously, you do not forget that some
of the best and purest men in Congress took that stock in that way?”
“Did Senator Bland?”
“Well, no–I believe not.”
“Of course you believe not. Do you suppose he was ever approached, on
the subject?”
“Perhaps not.”
“If you had approached him, for instance, fortified with the fact that
some of the best men in Congress, and the purest, etc., etc.; what would
have been the result?”
“Well, what WOULD have been the result?”
“He would have shown you the door! For Mr. Blank is neither a knave nor
a fool. There are other men in the Senate and the House whom no one
would have been hardy enough to approach with that Relief Stock in that
peculiarly generous way, but they are not of the class that you regard as
the best and purest. No, I say I know you Mr. Trollop. That is to say,
one may suggest a thing to Mr. Trollop which it would not do to suggest
to Mr. Blank. Mr. Trollop, you are pledged to support the Indigent
Congressmen’s Retroactive Appropriation which is to come up, either in
this or the next session. You do not deny that, even in public. The man
that will vote for that bill will break the eighth commandment in any
other way, sir!”
“But he will not vote for your corrupt measure, nevertheless, madam!”
exclaimed Mr. Trollop, rising from his seat in a passion.
“Ah, but he will. Sit down again, and let me explain why. Oh, come,
don’t behave so. It is very unpleasant. Now be good, and you shall
have, the missing page of your great speech. Here it is!”–and she
displayed a sheet of manuscript.
Mr. Trollop turned immediately back from the threshold. It might have
been gladness that flashed into his face; it might have been something
else; but at any rate there was much astonishment mixed with it.
“Good! Where did you get it? Give it me!”
“Now there is no hurry. Sit down; sit down and let us talk and be
friendly.”
The gentleman wavered. Then he said:
“No, this is only a subterfuge. I will go. It is not the missing page.”
Laura tore off a couple of lines from the bottom of the sheet.
“Now,” she said, “you will know whether this is the handwriting or not.