“That's right. You mustn't. Forgettin' is the one thing you mustn't do.
And, see here, you're boss of the political fleet in Bayport; you steer
the school committee now. Phoebe Dawes ain't too popular with that
committee; I'd see that she was popularized.”
“Yes, yes; she shall be. She shall not be disturbed. Is there anything
else I can do?”
“Why, yes, I guess there is. Speakin' of popularity made me think of it.
That harbor appropriation had better go through.”
A very faint tinge of color came into the congressman's chalky face. He
hesitated in his reply.
“I--I don't know about that, Cyrus,” he said. “The bill will probably be
voted on in a few days. It is made up and--”
“Then I'd strain a p'int and make it over. I'd work real hard on it. I'm
sorry about that sugar river, but I cal'late Bayport 'll have to come
first. Yes, it'll have to, Heman; it sartin will.”
The reference to the “sugar river” was the final straw. Evidently this
man knew everything.
“I--I'll try my best,” affirmed Heman. “Thank you, Cyrus. You have been
more merciful than I had a right to expect.”
“Yes, I guess I have. Why do I do it?” He smiled and shook his head.
“Well, I don't know. For two reasons, maybe. First, I'd hate to be
responsible for tippin' over such a sky-towerin' idol as you've been to
make ruins for Angie Phinney and the other blackbirds to peck at and caw
over. And second--well, it does sound presumin', don't it, but I kind
of pity you. Say, Heman,” he added with a chuckle, “that's a kind of
distinction, in a way, ain't it? A good many folks have hurrahed over
you and worshipped you--some of 'em, I guess likely, have envied you;
but, by the big dipper! I do believe I'm the only one in this round
world that ever PITIED you. Good-by. The elevator's right down the
hall.”
It required some resolution for the Honorable Atkins to walk down that
corridor and press the elevator button. But he did it, somehow. A guest
came out of one of the rooms and approached him as he stood there. It
was a man he knew. Heman squared his shoulders and set every nerve and
muscle.
“Good evening, Mr. Atkins,” said the man. “A miserable night, isn't it?”
“Miserable, indeed,” replied the congressman. The strength in his voice
surprised him. The man passed on. Heman descended in the elevator,
walked steadily through the crowded lobby and out to the curb where
his cab was waiting. The driver noticed nothing strange in his fare's
appearance. He noticed nothing strange when the Atkins residence was
reached and its tenant mounted the stone steps and opened the door
with his latchkey. But, if he had seen the dignified form collapse in a
library chair and moan and rock back and forth until the morning hours,
he would have wondered very much indeed.
Meanwhile Captain Cy, coughing and shivering by the radiator, had been
summoned from that warm haven by a knock at his door. A bell boy stood
at the threshold, holding a brown envelope in his hand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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