Hastings regarded this invitation as evidence of his breadth of mind, his freedom from prejudice, his disposition to do the generous and the helpful thing.In fact, it was evidence of little more than his dominant and most valuable trait--his shrewdness.After one careful glance over the ruins of his plan, he appreciated that Victor Dorn was at last a force to be reckoned with.He had been growing, growing--somewhat above the surface, a great deal more beneath the surface.His astonishing victory demonstrated his power over Remsen City labor--in a single afternoon he had persuaded the street car union to give up without hesitation a strike it had been planning--at least, it thought it had been doing the planning--for months.The Remsen City plutocracy was by no means dependent upon the city government of Remsen City.It had the county courts--the district courts--the State courts even, except where favoring the plutocracy would be too obviously outrageous for judges who still considered themselves men of honest and just mind to decide that way.The plutocracy, further, controlled all the legislative and executive machinery.To dislodge it from these fortresses would mean a campaign of years upon years, conducted by men of the highest ability, and enlisting a majority of the voters of the State.Still, possession of the Remsen City government was a most valuable asset.A hostile government could ``upset business,'' could ``hamper the profitable investment of capital,'' in other words could establish justice to a highly uncomfortable degree.This victory of Dorn's made it clear to Hastings that at last Dorn was about to unite the labor vote under his banner--which meant that he was about to conquer the city government.It was high time to stop him and, if possible, to give his talents better employment.
However, Hastings, after the familiar human fashion, honestly thought he was showing generosity, was going out of his way to ``give a likely young fellow a chance.'' When he came out on the veranda he stretched forth a graciously friendly hand and, looking shrewdly into Victor's boyishly candid eyes, said:
``Glad to see you, young man.I want to thank you for ending that strike.I was born a working man, and I've been one all my life and, when I can't work any more, I want to quit the earth.
So, being a working man, I hate to see working men make fools of themselves.''
Jane was watching the young man anxiously.She instinctively knew that this speech must be rousing his passion for plain and direct speaking.Before he had time to answer she said:
``Dinner's waiting.Let's go in.''
And on the way she made an opportunity to say to him in an undertone: ``I do hope you'll be careful not to say anything that'll upset father.I have to warn every one who comes here.
His digestion's bad, and the least thing makes him ill, and--''
she smiled charmingly at him-- ``I HATE nursing.It's too much like work to suit an upper-class person.''
There was no resisting such an appeal as that.Victor sat silent and ate, and let the old man talk on and on.Jane saw that it was a severe trial to him to seem to be assenting to her father's views.Whenever he showed signs of casting off his restraint, she gave him a pleading glance.And the old man, so weazened, so bent and shaky, with his bowl of crackers and milk, was--or seemed to be--proof that the girl was asking of him only what was humane.Jane relieved the situation by talking volubly about herself--her college experiences, what she had seen and done in Europe.
After dinner Hastings said:
``I'll drive you back to town, young man.I'm going in to work, as usual.I never took a vacation in my life.Can you beat that record?''
``Oh, I knock off every once in a while for a month or so,'' said Dorn.
``The young fellows growing up nowadays ain't equal to us of the old stock,'' said Martin.``They can't stand the strain.Well, if you're ready, we'll pull out.''
``Mr.Dorn's going to stop a while with me, father,'' interposed Jane with a significant glance at Victor.``I want to show him the grounds and the views.''
``All right--all right,'' said her father.He never liked company in his drives; company interfered with his thinking out what he was going to do at the office.``I'm mighty glad to know you, young man.I hope we'll know each other better.I think you'll find out that for a devil I'm not half bad--eh?''
Victor bowed, murmured something inarticulate, shook his host's hand, and when the ceremony of parting was over drew a stealthy breath of relief--which Jane observed.She excused herself to accompany her father to his trap.As he was climbing in she said:
``Didn't you rather like him, father?''
Old Hastings gathered the reins in his lean, distorted hands.
``So so,'' said he.
``He's got brains, hasn't he?''
``Yes; he's smart; mighty smart.'' The old man's face relaxed in a shrewd grin.``Too damn smart.Giddap, Bet.''
And he was gone.Jane stood looking after the ancient phaeton with an expression half of amusement, half of discomfiture.``Imight have known,'' reflected she, ``that popsy would see through it all.''
When she reappeared in the front doorway Victor Dorn was at the edge of the veranda, ready to depart.As soon as he saw her he said gravely: ``I must be off, Miss Hastings.Thank you for the very interesting dinner.'' He extended his hand.``Good day.''
She put her hands behind her back, and stood smiling gently at him.``You mustn't go--not just yet.I'm about to show you the trees and the grass, the bees, the chickens and the cows.Also, I've something important to say to you.''
He shook his head.``I'm sorry, but I must go.''
She stiffened slightly; her smile changed from friendly to cold.
``Oh--pardon me,'' she said.``Good-by.''
He bowed, and was on the walk, and running rapidly toward the entrance gates.
``Mr.Dorn!'' she called.
He turned.
