The Landloper: The Romance of a Man on FootDay, Holman
General
The Landloper: The Romance of a Man on Foot
Day, Holman
Political corruption -- Fiction; Water-supply -- Fiction
“I'll allow you to set me down in any class which seems fitting from
your point of view,” replied the doctor, stiffly. “But if that lunatic,
as you call him, got an angle-worm or a frog's leg out of his tap I
don't blame him for breaking up a meeting of the city government which
will tolerate the water which is being pumped through the city mains
just now.”
“We're working on the filtering-plant--it will be all right in a little
while. It got out of hand before we realized it,” said the colonel, now
a bit apologetic.
“In this crisis your filter amounts to about that!” The doctor snapped a
pudgy finger into a plump palm. “The river-water in this state has been
poisoned. You must go into the hills--to the lakes, Colonel Dodd.”
“You don't mean to say that you recommend that in your report, Doctor?”
“Absolutely--emphatically.”
“Without stopping to think of the millions it will cost my company to
build over its plants?”
“It has come to a point where it isn't a question of money, Colonel.”
“We can't afford it.”
“Then let the cities and towns of the state buy in their water-plants
and do it.”
“Good Jefferson! Don't you know that every city and town in this state
where we have a water-plant has already exceeded its debt limit of five
percent?”
“Do I understand you as intimating, Colonel Dodd, that there is no help
for this present condition of affairs?”
“Look here--I'm neither a Herod nor a Moloch, even if some of the
crack-brained agitators in this state will have it that way,” protested
the magnate, with heat. “Are you going to print that report before you
have given us time to turn around?”
“With one hundred deaths a day from typhoid fever in this state,
Colonel, that matter of time becomes mighty important.”
“Look here, Dohl, don't you remember that it was my indorsement that
gave you your job?”
“I do, Colonel Dodd. But I'm a physician, not a politician.”
“I see you're not,” retorted the colonel, dryly. “But you're a member
of our political party, and you know that the Consolidated and its
associate interests are the backbone of that party. There are a lot of
soreheads in this state, and we're having a devil of a time to hold 'em
in line. Every savings-bank in this state, furthermore, holds bonds of
the Consolidated. Do you want to start a panic? You've got to be careful
how you touch the first brick standing in a row. Dohl, you leave that
report with me. I'll go over it. I'll take the matter up with the
directors. We'll move as fast as possible.”
The doctor hesitated, stroking the folds of his manuscript.
“You're not doubting my word, are you?” demanded the colonel.
“No, sir!” Even the physician's sense of duty did not embolden him to
persist under this scowl of the man of might.
The colonel took the document from Dr. Dohl's relaxing hands and shoved
it into a pigeonhole of the big desk.
“You must understand that pipe-lines to lakes cannot be laid in a minute
as a child strings straws, Doctor,” admonished the magnate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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