Ancestors: A Novel

  III

  He was glowering into the open door of the stove and wondering why onearth he had not remained in town over Sunday at least, when he becameaware that his noiseless Jap was standing at his elbow.

  "What is it?" he demanded, testily. "I wish you would get a pair ofcreaky boots."

  "A gentleman," replied the impervious Oriental.

  "I told you I would not see anybody."

  "But he has a card." It was not often that the cool even tones of ImuraKisabura Hinomoto fluctuated, but Gwynne detected a faint accent ofrespect. Somewhat surprised himself, he glanced at the card. It bore thename of one of the judges of one of the benches provided for by theconstitutions of both nation and State. He had a summer home on themountain opposite and relatives in Rosewater, so there was nothingremarkable in his being in the little town on a rainy winter Sunday.Nevertheless, Gwynne's instinct of caution, more active than usualduring the past year, stirred sharply.

  "Show him in," he said. "And bring the whiskey--both Rye and Scotch."

  This was the most perfect specimen of the bluff, hearty, breezy, almostingenuous Westerner that Gwynne had encountered. The judge, who had beenrelieved of his hat and overcoat by the admirable Imura, advanced withboth hands outstretched, and Gwynne could do no less than surrenderhis, although he had never fancied any one less. The judge was a big manwith a round jolly face, set with a sensual mouth, a pendulous nose, andmerry twinkling eyes. Although possibly no more than fifty-five years ofage, the baldness of his head had amplified the common noble domelikeAmerican brow: behind which Gwynne had so often groped and foundnothing. This man was indubitably clever, and to a less educated eyethan Gwynne's his face would appeal and fascinate. His magnetism wassuperlative.

  "My dear Mr. Gwynne!" he exclaimed. "Believe me when I say that this isone of the most satisfactory moments of my life. I was forced to come tothis God-forsaken hole last night, and had it not been for you I shouldhave taken the morning train back to the city. But when I heard that youwere in town--you were pointed out to me as we both left the train--Iknew that my opportunity had come. And--my dear young gentleman--I throwaway no opportunities; I throw away no opportunities."

  By this time Gwynne had steered him into the largest of the chairs, andoffered him his choice of the whiskies. The judge, after an instant'shesitation, accepted the Scotch; and Gwynne felt that he had a tactfuland dangerous man to deal with.

  "Excellent!" exclaimed the judge, and he smacked his lips. He inhaledthe aroma of the cigar voluptuously. "But my dear old friend, JudgeLeslie, whom I ran in to see for a few moments this morning, toldme--with his customary humor--that you were as remarkable for thesuperior quality of your whiskey and tobacco as for the many personalqualities that have so rapidly endeared you to the citizens ofRosewater."

  "Thanks," said Gwynne.

  The judge changed his tactics instantly. "I cannot beat about in thedark and merely turn myself loose in pleasant generalities, Mr. Gwynne,"he said, gravely. "I am going to tell you at once that I am positive youare Elton Gwynne. Judge Leslie would give me no satisfaction thismorning, but I needed none. I happened to be employed in old Colton'sbank in my younger days--as secretary--and although that was a long timeago--a long time ago!--it came back to me, when I began to hear so muchabout our new rancher, that his full name was John Elton Cecil Gwynne,and that he was the only son of his mother. Or--if impressions areconfused after so long an interval--I may have gathered the last factfrom James Otis, whom I knew very well. He and Hi, indeed, I mayhonestly say, were among my few intimate friends, despite some disparityin years. So, I have a double interest and, I modestly hope, claim uponyou. The former at least has been accentuated since yesterday, when yourlikeness to Hi struck me very painfully. You are a vast improvement, Igrant, for Hi was as ugly as mud and as cross as two sticks, but theresemblance is acute, odd as it may appear. Those things are verysubtle, very subtle."

  Gwynne had heard the keys of his secret weakness tinkle for a full bar,but while it improved his humor it did not cloud his judgment, and heapplied himself to finding out the purpose of the man's visit.

  "I regret very much that I have come too late to know any of my malerelatives," he said, affably. "Hiram Otis, from all I hear, was an ableman, if somewhat soured, and his unfortunate brother one of the mostbrilliant lawyers of his day. Terrible thing, this reckless drinking inSan Francisco. I was told yesterday that when--a few years ago--aneditor was sent out from New York to assume charge of one of your mostflourishing dailies, he made the entire staff go down to Los Gatos andtake the Keeley cure. Then, for a time, he had _relays_ of sober men, atleast, but until then he had felt himself a lonely Philistine--besidestaking a hand in every department of the 'shop,' even setting type attimes. But it's a fascinating old town, all the same. Too fascinating, Ifear." And he managed to fetch a remorseful sigh.

  The judge, who had laughed heartily at the anecdote, dismissed histwinkle for a moment, and looked at the young man with concern.

  "For God's sake," he said, softly, "don't tell me that you haveinherited that microbe."

  "Oh no, indeed!" said Gwynne, cheerfully. "I never could take to drinknow--a man's character is pretty well formed at thirty-two, I fancy, andI scarcely ever touch spirits when alone--prefer the lighter wines.Only, as San Francisco is so convivial, one naturally imbibes a gooddeal, especially with friends addicted to the 'cocktail route'--and I amafraid I shall have to give up the city for the present and stick towork."

  "The judge tells me that your legal powers are really amazing--that youhave accumulated more law in four months--"

  "Tut! Tut!" cried Gwynne, springing to his feet and reaching the tablein a stride. "Have some more whiskey, judge. And don't flatter me anymore. I am afraid that vanity is my besetting weakness--"

  "Thank God it is not the other!" said the older man, fervently. "Andvanity keeps the heart younger than anything I know of. Lose the powerof being tickled by a compliment and inflated by success, and you losethe salt of life. But I am delighted that you have taken to the law. Iknow your English career like a book, and although I do not pretend evento guess at the motives which induced you to fling aside not only themost promising career in England, but one of the noblest of her titles,I may say, sir--and I may speak for my fellow-citizens, the wholemillion of them--I am deeply flattered, and gratified, that, whateveryour motive, which could only be an honorable one, you have chosen thisfair State as the theatre of your future triumphs. I hope I shall seeyou beside me on the bench--unless, to be sure, you have higherambitions than the mere practice of law."

  "The first men in the country have been lawyers," said Gwynne, politely."Why aspire higher?"

  "Why, indeed? But I think you will. The law frequently leads either toone of the benches or into the more active field of politics. Andyou--with your enormous energies--you will never be content with thelaw, pure and simple, no matter how brilliant a reputation you mightachieve."

  "But honest lawyers are so rare!" exclaimed Gwynne, boyishly. "I dobelieve I should be an honest one. That, at least, is the intention Ihave set beside my ambition. I am ambitious, judge, as no doubt you havedivined, and the prospect of being shelved among the lords sickened me.I wanted to make a career for myself, so cut the whole business and camehere where my American properties were. Besides, as it happened, Iinherited practically nothing with which to keep up my English estates.There! You have my reasons, judge, and you are welcome to them. Titleswithout money are mere embarrassments. Still, I really should have left,had it been otherwise--I am certain I should. I never could stand theinaction of the Upper House. Nor do I care for those compensatory honorsthat my position and family influence might have secured for me. And nowI feel more the American every day. I have even grown keen on makingmoney--which I rather disdained at home; for the matter of that, thoughtlittle about it. You may not know that I am--in partnership, as it were,with my mother and cousin--putting up a large Class A building in SanFrancisco?"

  He inferred that th
ere was little about him the judge did not know, butaccepted the interested "Ah!" and rhapsodized over his new interests.The Judge listened with a benignant smile and a twinkling eye, everyonce in a while giving the tip of his long fleshy nose an abrupt shove,as if it impeded his breathing.

  "Just so!" he exclaimed. "Just so! It is the Otis blood. No betterpioneer blood in the State. Jim was the wild one. The others were assteady as rocks. Their father and grandfather--your ancestors,sir--helped to make this great State what it is. Their names will alwaysbe honored in the annals of California. Terrible pity Jim and Hi gotaway with so much. If they'd hung on as your mother and her mother did,Miss Isabel would be one of the heiresses. But she seems able to takecare of herself, and with that face and form, I guess she can redeem herfortunes any way she chooses. I hear that young Harry Hofer can't talkof anything else."

  Gwynne wondered if this were what the judge had come for, butexonerated him, concluding that he was merely rambling on in the hope ofan opening.

  "No doubt!" he said, heartily. "Miss Otis could marry any one shepleased. One of the best titles in England was hers for the asking,by-the-way. But like myself she is too good an American--shall I sayCalifornian?--to live anywhere but here. She is immensely successfulwith her chickens, and we shall all make money on this new deal--I amcertain of that."

  "No doubt, no doubt. Things are booming in San Francisco. You'll get ahuge rent from a building of that size--in time. Pity it has to bedivided among three of you. And there will be a big mortgage to pay offfirst, I suppose; and it is in a very precarious district, a veryprecarious district." And once more the twinkle retired and he gazeddreamily at the fire.

  "Oh, even golden apples have to ripen. And I have taken every precautionagainst fires. Have some more whiskey, Judge."

  "Don't care if I do." Gwynne knew that the Scotch scalded a throatcaressed these many years with the oily rye, and put as little seltzerin it as he dared. But the judge sipped it heroically. Suddenly thetwinkle danced back to his eye as he turned it upon Gwynne.

  "You can't delude me!" he cried. "You can't, sir. I know you intend togo in for politics. Nothing else would ever satisfy your genius. Own up,now."

  "Well," said Gwynne, modestly. "I have thought of it. After my fiveyears are up, of course--makes one feel rather like a convict. MeanwhileI can make some headway with the law: or, shall I say, build up areputation that may be useful to me when I am able to run for office."

  "Ah! Just so! Great pity you were ever discharged from your Americanindigenate. Then one year in California would settle the matter. Whichof our parties makes the strongest appeal to you?"

  Gwynne's eyes had contracted and he was staring at the stove. But hisabstraction was too brief to be noticed, and he answered in aconfidential tone, "Well, Judge, to tell you the truth--" And then hestopped and laughed.

  "I see. You think one is about as bad as the other."

  "Well, I am afraid that is it."

  "Oh, my boy, they're not nearly as bad as they are made out to be--ourAmerican politics. Judge Leslie is dotty on that subject, and so are agood many of the other old fossils of Rosewater. I don't say but thatSan Francisco would be the better for a good spring cleaning, but theState's not nearly so bad as it's painted, not nearly so bad as it'spainted."

  He delivered his repeated phrases with an unctuous indulgent roll thatmade Gwynne long to grind his teeth. But the prospective American merelyraised an interrogative eyebrow. "I don't hear much good in anydirection," he murmured.

  "Of course, I can understand that you have seen through Tom Colton, andthat he has appalled you as much as the fossils. He's in a hurry, and ifhe isn't mighty careful the machine will throw him down. For all hisaffected simplicity he's too fond of the limelight: loves to see hisname in print; and when he makes a donation to a charity or animprovement scheme he uses up all the fireworks in the State."

  "I was under the impression that he was in high favor with the districtBoss--"

  "The district Boss is getting old, and Tom, one way or another, hasacquired a great influence over him; but I happen to know that hedoesn't stand any too well with the State Democratic Boss."

  "If Tom were really earnest in his reforms, really had the interest ofthe common people at heart--although I never saw common people so welloff in my life--but the point is that if Tom were really sincere hemight form an independent party."

  "Well, he can. It won't do him any good. It wouldn't do even you anygood to work up a reform party, and your abilities are to his as athousand to one. In fact a man like yourself would have far less chance.They would let Tom amuse himself, but they would find you reallydangerous, and the upshot would be that the two parties would unite andcrush you. Crush you flat. You might be a George Washington, AlexanderHamilton, and Abraham Lincoln rolled into one, and you would emerge fromthe swift and simultaneous impact of those two cast-iron walls flatterthan the sole of your boot. Even if you made a good running on a reformwave, so much the worse. Reform waves merely serve the purpose of makingsome poor devil conspicuous and recklessly optimistic, then subside andleave him high and dry--at the mercy of the ever-recuperating machine.It's enough to make a man wish he'd never been born. I've seen it morethan once. There's only one of two results. They are either so disgustedwith politics that they stay out of them for the rest of their lives, orthey pick themselves up and make a bolt for the machine they think mostlikely to give them a career. Look at some of our most illustriousincumbents. Great bluff on the outside--which the machine don't mindone little bit--and the best sort of a party man inside; walking achalked line with no rebellious wings on his feet. Wings don't grow onclay. But they are right, Mr. Gwynne, and not because they are wrong,either. In this great country organization is absolutely essential, andin all vast complicated organizations some chicanery will creep in. Buttake them all in all, American politics are not half as bad as they arepainted, not half as bad as they are painted."

  "Well, that is a relief. You certainly should know. But what of thegreat corporations that rule this State--as well as the country? TheState Democratic or Republican Boss is president or treasurer of one ofthem, is he not? I haven't taken the trouble to be very specific as yet.My time is so far off. Of course I do not need to be told thatorganizations, trusts, or whatever you like to call them, areinevitable--because they are in the line of progress; and unabused, theywould be as much to the advancement of the individual as of the country.But they have been abused, from all I can make out--quite shockingly. Iam taking the course on 'The Law of Corporations' at the University,partly because I want to understand so vital a question as thoroughly aspossible--and partly--well--at least, I fancied I should--for atime--for what money there might be in it--But really!"

  "Oh, I don't say that some trusts are not reprehensible, and the soonerthey are exposed the better. But they are sensational cases. Themajority of the great complex aggregations of capital are monuments toAmerican genius and progress; I am sure that if you waste any time onthe yellow press you know how to discount it. Some of even the best ofthe trusts may have swollen to a size that renders them practicallyunmanageable, as well as injudiciously provocative of much jealousy andunrest. But the principle is sound, as you have admitted, and the greatlaw of adjustment will correct all that is undesirable, and in a veryfew years. Meanwhile, get rich yourself, Mr. Gwynne. I'm delighted tolearn that corporation law has appealed to you so strongly, for themoney is there. I'm glad I came. I'd like to do one of your blood a goodturn, to say nothing of yourself. Perfect yourself in corporation lawand Leslie says you accumulate more rapidly than any hundred ordinarilywell-equipped men one might name--and I can put you in the way ofclearing a hundred thousand a year."

  "_Could_ you?"

  "Yes, sir. What the great corporations want, and want badly, even withall the good legal talent they've got, is an attorney of extraordinaryabilities, and this you have. I understand that the legal luminary ofthat reform set in San Francisco has offered to take you into hisoffice. That's
about as great a compliment as even you could have, butthere's nothing in it. They're playing a losing game. They ought to win,but they won't. The San Francisco Boss may be what we elegantly term ashyster lawyer, but there never was as clever a one; and there's notrick he doesn't know. He'll beat them at every turn. You'd only makeone more of that estimable Don Quixote band. Don't waste your youth.Study corporation law with all your might and main, and _I'll_ place youwhere you'll make a big income from the start--and it'll grow biggerevery year. Then when your turn comes to vote and run for office--why,the whole field will be open to you to pick and choose from.Corporations are not ungrateful, and with a mighty one behind you, Iguess you wouldn't whistle for anything, long."

  Gwynne regarded the thin sole of his house shoe with so rueful acountenance that the judge laughed outright. "Have you really hadthoughts of working up a reform party?" he cried, the dancing imps inhis eyes almost escaping.

  "Well, I may have dreamed a bit that way. You see, I come of a family ofreformers." And he gave the judge a rapid sketch of the part his Englishforefathers had played in the great reform acts of their country. Thejudge nodded sympathetically.

  "Just so. I understand your point of view perfectly. Perfectly. Butthose great movements in England are matched here by spasms only. Thiscountry is too big and too heterogeneous. Don't set yourself between twocast-iron walls, Mr. Gwynne, because when they do get a concerted moveon, they fly like hell. Join either of the parties, and you will findnot only that it is not half as bad as it is painted, but that itaccomplishes far more good than harm, many real reforms, that aresystematically ignored by the press."

  "I thought you said that reforms were impossible in this country."

  "Oh, bless my soul, no. That would mean that we were going straight tothe dogs. Reforms are going on every minute. The country is moretolerable and civilized every decade. What I mean is that no reform canbe accomplished until the time is ripe for it. That is the reason whyour spasms amount to nothing. They are always premature. But if youreally want to do this country a service throw in your lot with theregulars. You would always be an influence for good, and when you sawthe first opening for the correction of some crying abuse, you wouldhave powerful machinery at hand to work with. What you want to do, Mr.Gwynne, is to become a powerful factor in the machine, not waste yourtime on windmills."

  "Which machine?" asked Gwynne, ingenuously. "I don't fancy I could evermake up my mind. They seem precisely alike to me."

  "Well," said the judge, slowly, although he brushed the tip of his noseaside with more violence than usual. "I don't like advising,particularly a young man of your distinguished abilities andachievements. But I really think I am better able to advise you thanLeslie, and certainly every man of us should feel a sense ofresponsibility to the old Otis--and Adams!--blood. I will say franklythat in your place I should join the party that owns this State--andshows no signs of letting go; in other words, the Republican. I can wellunderstand, that having been a Liberal--and to the extent of renouncingyour titles!--the Democratic would appeal to you. But don't waste yourtime, Mr. Gwynne. You are thirty-two. You don't want to throw away thenext ten years on a losing game, and then, tired out, arrive nowhere.You would fight so hard that all your energies would be second-rate bythat time. You want to begin right now and swim with the tide. Nurseyour great energies for the exactions of the victorious career. You'llneed them. And need them fresh."

  "That sounds like good advice, but the whole political game appals mewhen I consider that it will be six years before I can even run for theHouse of Representatives--"

  "True! True! Pity your parents didn't lose you. But everything turnsout for the best. Meanwhile, you can make name and fortune as acorporation lawyer. And you can't have too much money in this world,sir. You can't have too much money in this world."

  It was on the tip of Gwynne's tongue to ask him bluntly what corporationhe had in mind, but not only did his already boiling humor recoil fromthe indignity of a deliberately worded bribe, but he doubted if it wouldbe proffered so early in the game. He had a very clever man to dealwith; it was not likely he would make the mistake of a direct approach.Gwynne flattered himself that he looked as ingenuous as Tom Colton, butas he had seen through the complacent judge, it was possible that thejudge might entertain suspicions of a man with his reputation. He wasglad he had not spoken when his visitor rose abruptly to his feet.

  "Bless my soul!" he exclaimed. "I shall miss my train if I don't hurry.And heaven forbid that I spend another night in this mud-hole. Myaddress is on my card--when do you come down again?"

  "There is a lecture at Berkeley on Wednesday--"

  "Good! Now, you will dine with me next Wednesday night--and I hope onmany other nights. We must have several long talks--and all about yourfuture, young man. I am too old to talk about my own, but I rememberwhat I was at your age. Tactful, hey? But no," dropping his voicegravely. "I want to help you. And I can. Whatever branch of the law youspecialize upon, you must leave Rosewater and come to San Francisco. Ican place you in an office--even should you decide upon generalpractice--that will carry you swifter and further than our reform friendcan, because he is playing a losing game--a losing game, sir. But we'lltalk of all that later. I must hasten."

  Gwynne escorted him to the head of the staircase, where he resisted animpulse to kick him down, then, after a hasty glance into thedictionary, encased himself in rubber and went up the hill to the homeof Judge Leslie. He was to dine there, and it was but a quarter-pastfour, but what he had to say and ask would not keep for an hour andthree-quarters.