the conflict-第14部分

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f　real　estate。　　‘‘It　was　no　mare's　nest；　Mr。　Hastings；''　gravely　declared　the　boss。　　‘‘If　I　hadn't　'a　knowed　just　how　to　use　the　money　we　collected；　there'd　'a　been　a　crowd　in　office　for　four　years　that　wouldn't　'a　been　easy　to　manage；　I　can　tell　you。　　But　they　was　nothing　to　this　here　Dorn　crowd。　Dorn　is''

‘‘We　must　get　rid　of　him；　Dick；''　interrupted　Hastings。

The　two　men　looked　at　each　othera　curious　glance　telegraphy。　　No　method　was　suggested；　no　price　was　offered　or　accepted。　　But　in　the　circumstances　those　matters　became　details　that　would　settle　themselves；　the　bargain　was　struck。

‘‘He　certainly　ought　to　be　stopped；''　said　Kelly　carelessly。　　‘‘He's　the　worst　enemy　the　labor　element　has　had　in　my　time。''　　He　rose。　　‘‘Well；　Mr。　Hastings；　I　must　be　going。''　　He　extended　his　heavy；　strong　hand；　which　Hastings　rose　to　grasp。　　‘‘I'm　glad　we're　working　together　again　without　any　hitches。　　You　won't　forget　about　that　there　stock？''

‘‘I'll　telephone　about　it　right　away；　Dickand　about　Judge　Lansing。　　You're　sure　Lansing's　all　right？　　I　didn't　like　those　decisions　of　his　last　yearthe　railway　cases；　I　mean。''

‘‘That　was　all　right；　Mr。　Hastings；''　said　Kelly　with　a　wave　of　the　hand。　　‘‘I　had　to　have　'em　in　the　interests　of　the　party。　　I　knowed　the　upper　court'd　reverse。　　No；　Lansing's　a　good　party　mana　good；　sound　man　in　every　way。''

‘‘I'm　glad　to　hear　it；''　said　Hastings。

Before　going　into　his　private　room　to　think　and　plan　and　telephone；　he　looked　out　on　the　west　veranda。　　There　sat　his　daughter；　and　a　few　feet　away　was　David　Hull；　his　long　form　stretched　in　a　hammock　while　he　discoursed　of　his　projects　for　a　career　as　a　political　reformer。　　The　sight　immensely　pleased　the　old　man。　　When　he　was　a　boy　David　Hull's　grandfather；　Brainerd　Hull；　had　been　the　great　man　of　that　region；　and　Martin　Hastings；　a　farm　hand　and　the　son　of　a　farm　hand；　had　looked　up　at　him　as　the　embodiment　of　all　that　was　grand　and　aristocratic。　　As　Hastings　had　never　travelled；　his　notions　of　rank　and　position　all　centred　about　Remsen　City。　　Had　he　realized　the　extent　of　the　world；　he　would　have　regarded　his　ambition　for　a　match　between　the　daughter　and　granddaughter　of　a　farm　hand　and　the　son　and　grandson　of　a　Remsen　City　aristocrat　as　small　and　ridiculous。　　But　he　did　not　realize。

Davy　saw　him　and　sprang　to　his　feet。

‘‘Nonodon't　disturb　yourselves；''　cried　the　old　man。　　‘‘I've　got　some　things　to　'tend　to。　　You　and　Jenny　go　right　ahead。''

And　he　was　off　to　his　own　little　room　where　he　conducted　his　own　business　in　his　own　primitive　but　highly　efficacious　way。　　A　corps　of　expert　accountants　could　not　have　disentangled　those　crabbed；　criss…crossed　figures；　no　solver　of　puzzles　could　have　unravelled　the　mystery　of　those　strange　hieroglyphics。　　But　to　the　old　man　there　wasn't　a　difficultor　a　dullmark　in　that　entire　set　of　dirty；　dog…eared　little　account　books。　　He　spent　hours　in　poring　over　them。　　Just　to　turn　the　pages　gave　him　keen　pleasure；　to　read；　and　to　reconstruct　from　those　hints　the　whole　story　of　some　agitating　and　profitable　operation；　made　in　comparison　the　delight　of　an　imaginative　boy　in　Monte　Cristo　or　Crusoe　seem　a　cold　and　tame　emotion。

David　talked　on　and　on；　fancying　that　Jane　was　listening　and　admiring；　when　in　fact　she　was　busy　with　her　own　entirely　different　train　of　thought。　　She　kept　the　young　man　going　because　she　did　not　wish　to　be　bored　with　her　own　solitude；　because　a　man　about　always　made　life　at　least　a　little　more　interesting　than　if　she　were　alone　or　with　a　woman；　and　because　Davy　was　good　to　look　at　and　had　an　agreeable　voice。

‘‘Why；　who's　that？''　she　suddenly　exclaimed；　gazing　off　to　the　right。

Davy　turned　and　looked。　　‘‘I　don't　know　her；''　he　said。　　‘‘Isn't　she　queer　lookingyet　I　don't　know　just　why。''

‘‘It's　Selma　Gordon；''　said　Jane；　who　had　recognized　Selma　the　instant　her　eyes　caught　a　figure　moving　across　the　lawn。

‘‘The　girl　that　helps　Victor　Dorn？''　said　Davy；　astonished。　　‘‘What's　SHE　coming　HERE　for？　　You　don't　know　herdo　you？''

‘‘Don't　you？''　evaded　Jane。　　‘‘I　thought　you　and　Mr。　Dorn　were　such　pals。''

‘‘Pals？''　laughed　Hull。　　‘‘Hardly　that。　　We　meet　now　and　then　at　a　workingman's　club　I'm　interested　inand　at　a　cafe'　where　I　go　to　get　in　touch　with　the　people　occasionallyand　in　the　street。　　But　I　never　go　to　his　office。　　I　couldn't　afford　to　do　that。　　And　I've　never　seen　Miss　Gordon。''

‘‘Well；　she's　worth　seeing；''　said　Jane。　　‘‘You'll　never　see　another　like　her。''

They　rose　and　watched　her　advancing。　　To　the　usual　person；　acutely　conscious　of　self；　walking　is　not　easy　in　such　circumstances。　　But　Selma；　who　never　bothered　about　herself；　came　on　with　that　matchless　steady　grace　which　peasant　girls　often　get　through　carrying　burdens　on　the　head。　　Jane　called　out：

‘‘So；　you've　come；　after　all。''

Selma　smiled　gravely。　　Not　until　she　was　within　a　few　feet　of　the　steps　did　she　answer：　　‘‘Yesbut　on　business。''　　She　was　wearing　the　same　linen　dress。　　On　her　head　was　a　sailor　hat；　beneath　the　brim　of　which　her　amazingly　thick　hair　stood　out　in　a　kind　of　defiance。　　This　hat；　this　further　article　of　Western　civilization's　dress；　added　to　the　suggestion　of　the　absurdity　of　such　a　person　in　such　clothing。　　But　in　her　strange　Cossack　way　she　certainly　was　beautifuland　as　healthy　and　hardy　as　if　she　had　never　before　been　away　from　the　high；　wind…swept　plateaus　where　disease　is　unknown　and　where　nothing　is　thought　of　living　to　be　a　hundred　or　a　hundred　and　twenty…five。　　Both　before　and　after　the　introduction　Davy　Hull　gazed　at　her　with　fascinated　curiosity　too　plainly　written　upon　his　long；　sallow；　serious　face。　　She；　intent　upon　her　mission；　ignored　him　as　the　arrow　ignores　the　other　birds　of　the　flock　in　its　flight　to　the　one　at　which　it　is　aimed。

‘‘You'll　give　me　a　minute　or　two　alone？''　she　said　to　Jane。　　‘‘We　can　walk　on　the　lawn　here。''

Hull　caught　up　his　hat。　　‘‘I　was　just　going；''　said　he。　　Then　he　hesitated；　looked　at　Selma；　stammered：　　‘‘I'll　go　to　the　edge　of　the　lawn　and　inspect　the　view。''

Neither　girl　noted　this　abrupt　and　absurd　change　of　plan。　　He　departed。　　As　soon　as　he　had　gone　half　a　dozen　steps；　Selma　said　in　her　quick；　direct　fashion：

‘‘I've　come　to　see　you　about　the　strike。''

Jane　tried　to　look　cool　and　reserved。　　But　that　sort　of　expression　seemed　foolish　in　face　of　the　simplicity　and　candor　of　Selma　Gordon。　　Also；　Jane　was　not　now　so　well　pleased　with　her　father's　ideas　and　those　of　her　own　interest　as　she　had　been　while　she　was　talking　with　him。　　The　most　exasperating　thing　about　the　truth　is　that；　once　one　has　begun　to　see　ithas　begun　to　see　what　is　for　him　the　truththe　honest　truthhe　can　not　hide　from　it　ever　again。　　So；　instead　of　looking　cold　and　repellant；　Jane　looked　uneasy　and　guilty。　　‘‘Oh；　yesthe　strike；''　she　murmured。

‘‘It　is　over；''　said　Selma。　　‘‘The　union　met　a　half　hour　ago　and　revoked　its　actionon　Victor　Dorn's　advice。　　He　showed　the　men　that　they　had　been　trapped　into　striking　by　the　companythat　a　riot　was　to　be　started　and　blamed　upon　themthat　the　militia　was　to　be　called　in　and　they　were　to　be　shot　down。''

‘‘Oh；　nonot　that！''　cried　Jane　eagerly。　　‘‘It　wouldn't　have　gone　as　far　as　that。''

‘‘Yesas　far　as　that；''　said　Selma　calmly。　　‘‘That　sort　of　thing　is　an　old　story。　　It's　been　done　so　often　and　worse。　　You　see；　the　respectable　gentlemen　who　run　things　hire　disreputable　creatures。　　They　don't　tell　them　what　to　do。　　They　don't　need　to。

The　poor　wretches　understand　what's　expected　of　them　and　they　do　it。　　So；　the　respectable　gentlemen　can　hold　up　white　hands　and　say　quite　truthfully；　'No　blood…no　filth　on　thesesee！'''　Selma　was　laughing　drearily。　　Her　superb；　primitive　eyes；　set　ever　so　little　aslant；　were　flashing　with　an　intensity　of　emotion　that　gave　Jane　Hastings　a　sensation　of　terror…much　as　if　a　man　who　has　always　lived　where　there　were　no　storms；　but　such　gentle　little　rains　with　restrained　and　refined　thunder　as　usually　visit　the　British　Isles；　were　to　find　himself　in　the　midst　of　one　of　those　awful　convulsions　that　come　crashing　down　the　gorges　of　the　Rockies。　　She　marveled　that　one　so　small　of　body　could　contain　such　big　emotions。

‘‘You　mustn't　be　unjust；''　she　pleaded。　　‘‘WE　aren't　THAT　wicked；　my　dear。''

Selma　looked　at　her。　　‘‘No　matter；''　she　said。　　‘‘I　am　not　trying　to　convert　youor　to　denounce　your　friends　to　you。　　I'll　explain　what　I've　come　for。　　In　his　speech　to…day　and　in　inducing　the　union　to　change；　Victor　has　shown　how　much　power　he　has。　　The　men　whose　plans　he　has　upset　will　be　hating　him　as　men　hate　only　those　whom　they　fear。''

‘‘YesI　believe　that；''　said　Jane。　　‘‘So；　you　see；　I'm　not　blindly　prejudiced。''

‘‘For　a　long　time　there　have　been　rumors　that　they　might　kill　him''

‘‘Absurd！''　cried　Jane　angrily。　　‘‘Miss　Gordon；　no　matter　how　prejudiced　you　may　beand　I'll　admit　there　are　many　things　to　justify　you　in　feeling　strongly　but　no　matter　how　you　may　feel；　your　good　sense　must　tell　you　that　men　like　my　father　don't　commit　murder。''

‘‘I　understand　perfectly；''　replied　Selma。　　‘‘They　don't　commit　murder；　and　they　don't　order　murder。　　I'll　even　say　that　I　don't　think　they　would　tolerate　murder；　even　for　their　benefit。　　But　you　don't　know　how　things　are　done　in　business　nowada