Mixed Faces

He sat down on the edge of his sample case and said aloud, "Well, if that isn't rotten luck! What in the deuce does Roncavour mean?"

He rummaged through his grip and found the firm's code book and interpreted therefrom, "'Important to show courtesy for future business relations when credit fully restored.' And 'Matador' means 'Introduce yourself to' and 'Carmen' means 'Have notified him you are coming.'"

"Me the diplomat!" said Jimmy with a sigh, now opening a time table. And again he was not particularly happy, because Yimville was a mountain town up in another county, and the sole train he could take with any degree of comfort was one that would land him at his destination at one o'clock. A returning passenger train at 4:30 in the evening would bring him back to his junction but it meant the loss of an entire day. It was strange how much more important time had become to him – that is – how much keener he was to return to New York at the earliest possible moment. He had even begun the formation of a scheme whereby he had hoped to steal two whole days out of his trip, and that, too, without the knowledge of his firm. Such things have been done now and then by gentlemen of the road.

"The only thing that can save me from going up there is for the snow to fall twice as fast," said Jimmy, and looked hopefully out through the window of the sample room. The outside air was filled with big, gently falling flakes, and already the street was deeply paved by its heavy blanket. Groups of boys released from school were pelting one another gleefully, and Jimmy observed that the snow on the pavement was already high enough to cover their knees. A big electric sweeper was struggling to keep the tram lines clear. Down past the corner he could glimpse a tiny section of a park. The trees therein were like white pyramids, their branches bending heavily beneath the weight. On the roof of the building opposite the hotel a mass of telephone wires, each with its little drift piled up as if the air had been rendered motionless, was being scrutinized by a lineman on whose legs were spurs for climbing poles. The man appeared to be quite anxious. Jimmy's spirits rose bouyantly, finding in each view some hopeful sign.

"Of course they'll keep the main railways open," he remarked, "and if it blocks these branch lines I can have a good excuse for not going up there. And it'll be all the better if the wires to Yimville fall down, because it'll back up the account of the storm that I'll hand in as an explanation why I didn't go. It's a good old world, after all!"

Indeed he passed a happy evening, playing billiards with another drummer who was a very good cue, and went hopefully to bed. He awoke hopefully, and through his bedroom window saw that the snow was still falling and that it was deep. Very deep! At the breakfast table the headlines of the morning paper announced that traffic was disorganized for the time being, and that the wires in many directions were down. Also that by strenuous efforts and the aid of relays of snow plows the main lines of railways had been kept open, although timetables were slightly confused. And then after smoking his morning cigar and exchanging jokes with anyone who looked pleasant and happy, he inquired at the desk as to the possibilities of reaching Yimville.

He loitered and whistled and hummed while the clerk phoned to the station.

"All right," said the clerk, smiling as if bestowing glad news. "Line up that way will be clear by noon. Wires are down, but that doesn't matter to you, I know. You're still in luck!"

Jimmy's hopes went smash, and resignedly he turned away. He was in for it, and was too conscientious to deliberately lie to his firm about the impossibility of getting through. Promptly on time for his train he was at the station and checked his baggage through to the "next jump," thus relieving himself of impediments on this diplomatic side step of his to Yimville. He boarded the train, but finding no one who looked very approachable, and feeling eager for companionship, walked through its entire length of three coaches, without discovering a single person he had ever seen. Indeed, the coaches were nearly empty, as if traffic were badly disrupted. The train caught up with a snow plow working through great drifts in a cutting, and had to wait Jimmy got out and watched proceedings with great interest. There was something fascinating about the way those two locomotives drew back and then charged the snow drifts furiously, and stirred up a miniature storm of white. Also, the storm had ceased, and once the sun broke through for a few minutes. Jimmy was glad for this, because now that a storm could no longer work in his favor, he preferred everything to clear up. Sunshine fitted his temperament. It was a good old sun, after all!

He did not even complain when his train arrived at Yimville a full hour late. He had never been there before. It was a pretty place, he thought, with its white hills all around it, and its red station under a roof that looked to be made of white stuff three feet in thickness, and a town omnibus with fat driver who waddled importantly, and a half dozen loafers drawling comments. He was the sole passenger to descend and was starting toward the omnibus when accosted by a man in a full coat who said, "This way, sir. Mr. Wetherby couldn't come to meet you, as he is makin' a talk up there now. We wasn't any too sure you'd get here, on account of this plaguey snow fall, but he sent me down to make sure that if you did you'd get to the court house on the jump. Right around the corner of the depot is our old bob sled."

"That was decent of Wetherby. Hadn't expected to be met. Good old Wetherby!" said Jimmy, climbing into the rear seat of the sleigh and pulling a comfortable lap robe around his legs. A ripping team of bays, sturdy, and eager to be off, fully occupied the driver's attention. The sleigh bells sang a tune to thrill the blood. The steam from the horses' nostrils blew out in regular spurts, ending in rhythmic and quickly dissipating clouds. Jimmy Gollop enjoyed it all, and was glad he had come. He leaned back and admired the road that stretched for a mile and a half between the railway station and town.

"Some town!" commented Jimmy with enthusiasm born of delight in admiration for clean, well kept, modern houses. "And – Hello! – Pretty good little stores, too. And there's certain to be a town square. Whole town looks on it of course. Always that way in county seats. Square, court house in the middle, lot of trees. Hitching posts, maybe, with a chain around the square. Lot of farmer's teams tied there. Some place, all right!"

And his predictions were not far wrong, as was proven when the horses came jingling out into the streets facing the square, the court house, and the teams tied to the hitching posts. There were many of them, the horses blanketed and unblanketed, drowsing where they stood. There were stores and shops with a few pedestrians moving about their business – a sleepy panorama of winter life in a nice, clean, comfortable little town.

The sleigh halted with a flourish in front of the court house steps and two men rushed out as if astonished, then hastened to solicitously welcome Jimmy, who was somewhat puzzled by their demeanor.

"Mighty glad to see you, Judge!" declared the one who first clutched his hand. "They told us down at the station that the railroad up to Princetown from Media City was completely blocked. So we had given you up. But you can see how interested in what you have to say the folks around Yimville are when you get inside. Yes siree! Got the court house full. Seems as if we had every farmer from forty miles around here, and – " he stopped and chuckled loudly – "every farmer's wife and every spinster! The women are certainly mighty anxious to know how you stand on votes for 'em! Talk about home industries for the men, and the usual bunk about protective tariff, but – go easy about national votes for women, Judge! – Go easy. The men folks don't want it and they dassn't say so for fear they'll get hit over the head with a maul or a fryin' pan at home. Get me? If you say yes, that you're a woman's righter out and out, you'll secretly lose the men's votes, but catch the women's. If you say you're against 'em, Judge, it's most likely you're a plumb goner because the women'll vote against you, and all the men that's for it'll vote against you, and all them that dassn't do anything without askin' permission from their wives'll hop you, and others won't count. So go easy, Judge! Go easy! Keep on the fence as if you were a rooster that had got frozen on the top rail. Bend a little this way and a little that, so's to make both sides think you're for 'em. Say a heap that means nothin' at all! Hurry up. They're waitin'!"

At first Jimmy was half-paralyzed by misunderstanding. Next he was half-hypnotized by the voluble man's stream of rapid talk. Then his eye wandered to a big sign on a board wired up to a pillar of the court house entrance, where he read:

"GRAND PUBLIC RALLY! The distinguished Jurist, Hon. James Woodworth-Granger, Judge of the Fourth District Court of Princetown, will on Saturday, December 1st, address the voters of Yimville on the issues of the campaign. TURNOUT! TURNOUT! and hear our next governor on vital issues for the state welfare. COME ONE! COME ALL! EVERY MAN AND WOMAN WELCOME! Time 2 o'clock P. M. sharp! Place, County Court House. DON'T FORGET!"

He digested this in a flash, and comprehended the situation. "But – but – " he said, "Wetherby was to settle that affair of the Intermountain General Supply Company to-day and – "

"Oh, that was settled this forenoon, Judge," soothingly explained the other welcomer. "Court got it out of the way so's the court room could be open for the speech making this afternoon. Hello! Hear 'em? That's the Yimville Silver Comet Band. Bill – I mean Mister Perry – has given the band the tip you've got here. Come on! Now's the time!"

Any man less jocular, less nimble witted, and self-possessed than Mr. James Gollop, would have then and there declared himself, and his identity; but Mr. James Gollop's wits and humor, running in team and usually at a gallop, were now racing like lightning. It was too late to be a diplomat in behalf of his firm's future business with the Intermountain people; and this boob of a country judge, pompous, slow, egotistical, had been carrying a hatchet for one Jim Gollop ever since he had suffered through the peculiar likeness to this unmentionable candy drummer and – Jimmy suddenly grinned, buttoned his coat, cleared his throat and in ponderous dignity bent stiffly forward and said, "I am here! I am at your disposal! It will afford me great pleasure to express my views to such an attentive audience. Let us make haste!"

CHAPTER VI

The distinguished Judge, as impersonated by that rank and, for the moment, highly irresponsible, drummer, was led up a broad flight of stone stairs and two men opened two big green baize doors in front of him. The Silver Cornet Band played "See the Conquering Hero" with so much zest that trombones cracked, clarionets made frantic goose-notes and the cornets sounded as if made of anything other than silver. The commodious court room was, despite the outer inclemency of road and weather, packed with men and women who stood up and yelled a welcome that for the moment dazed the impostor; but he recovered his nerve and mischievousness instantly, and no actor ever fell into his part more completely than did he. The Judge was ponderous, but Jimmy went him one better. The Judge "threw a chest" when he had an audience, but Jimmy swelled until his buttons strained. The Judge walked like the late Henry Irving playing Mathias in The Bells, but Jimmy's feet dragged far more lugubriously. Jimmy had observed that the Judge assumed what is known as the "grave judicial" or otherwise "frozen face," and he therefore looked as much like a wooden image as was possible. Not immortal Caesar dead and turned to clay could have looked more claylike, for Jimmy looked like a whole brickyard. He moved austerely up the main aisle, now and then giving to right and left an imitation of the Judge's peculiarly stiff and condescending bow, mounted the platform, patronizingly shook hands with those thereon who hastened to greet him, and then, when the band subsided for want of wind, advanced to the front of the stage and was about to speak when he remembered the Judge's procedure and deliberately buttoned his coat, shot his cuffs, barked a stentorian "Ahem!" and poured himself a glass of water which he drank with almost painful deliberation, still affecting the Judge's mannerisms.

"Fellow citizens, I stand before you this afternoon," began Jimmy, in the hush, "first to apologize for my delay in reaching your welcoming and friendly greetings which, as you who have traveled so far on this momentous occasion, may appreciate as being unavoidable. Knowing that you would be here regardless of winter's snows and winds to hear me expound my views, I can assure you that had it been necessary to come on snow shoes to prevent your loyalty to me from being in vain, I should have made the attempt, and perhaps like the youth who cried 'Excelsior,' might last have been seen plodding through the shades of night into your Alpine fastness, still striving to reach you."

Unwittingly he had made a flattering allusion to the locality, whose residents firmly believed it a rival of the Alps in scenic glories and hence he was well applauded.

"Didn't know the Judge was such a good campaigner," whispered one of the local politicians to his neighbor.

"That's the mush for 'em," assented the other.

Mr. James Gollop, beginning to feel more thoroughly at home, was now thinking with ease and adroitness. Needless to note that he was mentally grinning.

"Inasmuch as I arrived so unavoidably late, and that the early darkness of winter renders the roads so difficult for those who have long journeys to make, I shall somewhat curtail the remarks I have in mind," he said, pompously, and took another long drink of water.

"The great issue before the nation to-day, my fellow citizens, is Tariff Reform." And then he drawled and droned through a lot of stock arguments familiar to every man, woman and child in America, but in the meantime kept a furtive eye on the clock at the end of the court room, and gleefully observed that the afternoon was waning, and that outside it threatened an early twilight, intensified by a new fall of snow. He decided that it was time to get in his precious work of assisting the Judge's campaign with the final straws.

"Now, my friends," he said, confidentially and observing that his audience was growing restless, "I have given you the customary platform remarks concerning tariff and free trade; but I feel that I am in the hands of my friends, so I shall tell you that personally it doesn't matter a hang to me whether we have free trade or protection or tariff reform, or any of that wash!"

A bomb shell dropped from a Zeppelin could have had but little more effect. Everyone sat up and gasped; particularly the two or three local politicians on the platform who half arose from their seats to protest.

"All I care about, to tell the honest truth," said the ingenious Jimmy, "is to get elected to the fat job of governing this state. It pays well, and I, as well as you, are aware that in addition there are some few pickings and perquisites which are well worth having."

Somebody in the audience cried, "Shame! Shame!" and a few more hissed; but Jimmy quelled the rising storm by holding up his hand for silence.

"Listen and have patience, My Friends!" he appealed, oracularly. "Other candidates from time immemorial have come to you with a lot of talk, but I am the first one who has ever dared to be honest with you. Isn't that true?"

Some of his party adherents, doing their best to uphold him to the last, loudly assented, and yelled, "Give the Judge a chance to finish! Let him finish!"

In tense silence and expectancy they settled back in their seats.

"Politics are to me like the law," he said, thoughtfully. "All bunkum! A man comes to a lawyer to get a tiny agreement drawn that if he had the brains of a cow he could draw just as well himself. The lawyer looks profoundly intellectual, terribly wise, considerably puzzled as if this document might require a further course in a law school to be able to handle, and so forth, but I tell you, My Friends, that down in his innermost mind all he is thinking is, 'How much can I get out of this gazabo for this simple little job?' and then he taps the poor victim for all he thinks the latter will stand, pockets the fee, and after his client has gone, hands a memorandum to a four-dollar-a-week clerk and says, 'Jones, fill up a contract form with that stuff and mail it to this John Doe person in Squashville.'"

The crowd by this time was hopelessly divided, some believing the orator facetious, and the others for the first time in their lives having sympathy with a lawyer and believing they had for the first time met one who told the truth.

"Most judges, My Friends, are elected to the bench because their fellow lawyers think they will prove easy marks after they get there, and not because they are supposed to be particularly clever in the law. The best judge is the one that whacks his decisions up so that Lawyer Skinem wins this week, and Lawyer Squeezehard the next, and Lawyer Gouge the next, and so on. If he can satisfy the lawyers he becomes renowned, and as far as the litigants are concerned, they don't matter at all. If they had any sense they wouldn't resort to the law anyway. Any fool knows that!"

Wetherby got up behind him, red faced and angry, to protest, but the crowd howled him down. And Wetherby, muttering, stormed indignantly out of the court room. Jimmy observed that he did so by a corner entrance near at hand and saw through the door that had been left open that it led into a cloak room and thence out to the street. He noted this with satisfaction. It increased his daring. Also by now it was getting dusk and someone turned on the electric lights.

A tall, angular, mannish sort of woman, raw-boned, shrill, got up in about the center of the audience, and said, "You've been honest I take it, in what you said this far. But you don't dast to be honest, I'll bet, if I ask you a plain out and out question, Mister?"

"You ask it and see if I'm not," retorted Jimmy combatively.

"Then what's your honest opinion about votes for women? That's what interests a lot of us women more than all you've been talking about. What about general national suffrage, eh?"

The woman sat down and immediately around her was a group that vociferously and shrilly applauded, and Jimmy knew at once that this must be the militant suffragette party of that vicinity in full force and that it had come to try to put the Judge on record.

"First," he said, once more assuming great pomposity, "may I ask the lady who just spoke, whether she does, or does not represent any authoritative body of women of this grand and noble state?"

"You should know that, Judge. Don't pretend you don't; because you have seen me at a dozen meetings before, when I asked the same question and you hemmed and hawed, and straddled the fence and gave no answer at all that meant anything at all. You know well enough that I am the President of the Women's Suffrage Society of this state, and that sooner or later you've got to answer my question. Are you going to do it to-day, or do we have to keep following you?"

Jimmy looked carefully over to a chair at the edge of the stage where, on his entry, he had deposited his hat and coat despite the invitation of one of his supposed henchmen to hang them in the cloak room. Almost involuntarily he edged closer toward that chair before making his reply, and took time to drink another glass of water.

"Since that question has been so repeatedly asked, and hitherto, I admit, evaded, I shall now endeavor to make myself completely, plainly, and fully understood on that subject," he said, impressively, and waited until in the silence nothing could be heard save suppressed breathings.

"As I understand it, I am asked what is my personal opinion concerning the expediency and the justice of granting women of majority age the right of franchise in both national as well as state elections. Am I right?"

"That's it, precisely," came the voice of the woman who had asked the question, and there was a considerable note of triumph in her tone as if at last she had run her fox to earth.