CHAPTER IV
DIANA ALLEN
"If only someone had taught me ethics as Christ taught them, while Iwas still a little boy, I would be a finer citizen, now."--_Enoch'sDiary_.
It rained the next day and the Secretary of the Interior and theBritish Ambassador did not attempt the proposed ride. Enoch did hisusual half hour's work with the punching bag and reached his officepunctual to the minute, with his wonted air of lack of haste andgeneral physical fitness. Before he even glanced at his morning'smail, he dictated a letter to Frank Allen.
"Dear Frank: Your letter roused a host of memories. Some day I shallcome to Bright Angel again and you and I will camp once more in thebottom of the Canyon. Whatever success I have had in after life is dueto you and John Seaton. I wonder if you know that he has been dead fortwenty years and that his devoted wife survived him only by a year?
"I will do my best to carry out your request in regard to your daughter.
"Cordially and gratefully yours,
"ENOCH HUNTINGDON."
After he had finished dictating this, the Secretary stared out of thewindow thoughtfully. Then he said, "Let me have that at once, Mr.Abbott. Who is waiting this morning?"
"Mr. Reeves of Idaho. I made an appointment yesterday for thedelegation to meet you at nine-fifteen. Reeves has turned up alone.He says the committee decided it would get further if you saw himalone."
"Reeves was the short, stout man with small eyes set close together!"
"Yes, Mr. Secretary."
Enoch grunted. "Any one else there you want to tell me about beforethe procession begins?"
"Do you recall the man Armstrong who was here six months ago with ideason the functions of the Bureau of Education? I didn't let him see you,but I sent you a memorandum of the matter. He is back to-day and I'vepromised him ten minutes. I think he's the kind of a man you want inthe Bureau. He doesn't want a job, by the way."
"I'll see him," said Enoch. "It you can, let us have fifteen minutes."
Abbott sighed. "It's impossible, Mr. Secretary. I'll bring Reeves innow."
The delegate from Idaho shook hands effusively.
"The rain is a great relief, Mr. Secretary."
"Yes, it is. Washington is difficult to endure, in the summer, isn'tit? Well, did you bring in the proofs, Mr. Reeves?" Enoch seatedhimself and his caller sank into the neighboring chair.
"Mr. Secretary," he began, with a smile, "has it ever occurred to youthat we have been stupid in the number and kind of Bureaus we haveaccumulated in Department of the Interior?"
"Yes," replied Enoch. "I suppose you are thinking of Patents,Pensions, Parks, Geological Survey, Land, Indians and Education. Doyou know that beside these we have, American Antiquities, theSuperintendent of Capitol Buildings, the Government Hospital for theInsane, Freedman's Hospital, Howard University, and the ColumbiaInstitution for the Deaf and Dumb?"
Reeves laughed.
"No, I didn't. But it only goes to prove what I say. It's impossiblefor the Secretary of the Interior to find time to understand localconditions. Why not let the states manage the water and land problems?"
"It would be illegal," replied Enoch briefly.
"Oh, illegal! You're too good a lawyer, Mr. Secretary, to let thatthought hamper your acts!"
"On the contrary," returned Enoch, succinctly, "I was a poor lawyer.In some ways of course it is impossible for me to understand localconditions in Idaho. I am told, though, that your present stateadministration is corrupt as Tammany understands corruption."
Reeves cleared his throat and would have spoken, but Enoch pushed on.
"I have found, as the head of this complex Department that I must limitmyself as much as possible to formulating simple, basic policies andputting these policies into the hands of men who will carry them out.In general, my most important work is to administer the public domain.That is, I must discover how best the natural resources that theFederal Government still controls can be put into public service andpublic service that is the highest and best. I believe that the water,the land, the mines, ought to be given to the use of the averagecitizen. I do not think that a corrupt politician nor a favor-seekingbusiness man has the best good of the plain citizen at heart."
"That is very interesting from the dreamer's point of view," saidReeves. "But a government to be successful must be practical. Who'sgoing to develop the water power in our Idaho streams?"
"The people of Idaho, if they show a desire to make a fair interest ontheir investment. The government of the United States, if the peopleof Idaho fail to show the proper spirit."
"And who is to be the judge in the matter?" demanded Reeves.
"The Secretary of the Interior will be the judge. And he is not onewhit interested in you and your friends growing wealthy. He isinterested in Bill Jones getting electricity up on that lonely ranch ofhis. Never forget, Mr. Reeves, that the ultimate foundations of thisnation rest on the wise distribution of its natural resources. Theaverage citizen, Mr. Reeves, must have reason to view the future withhope. If he does not, the nation cannot endure."
"And why do you consider yourself competent to deal with theseproblems?" asked the caller, with a half-concealed sneer.
"Any man with education and horse sense can handle them, provided thathis philosophy is sound. You have come to Washington with the idea,Mr. Reeves, of getting at me, of tempting me with some sort of share inthe wealth you see in your streams. Other men have come to the Capitolwith the same purpose. I have my temptations, Mr. Reeves, but they donot lie in the desire to graft. I think there are jobs moreinteresting in life than the job of getting rich. All the grafting inthe world couldn't touch in interest the job of directing America'sinland destiny. And I have a foolish notion that a man owes hiscountry public service, that he owes it for no reward beyond a livingand for no other reason than that he is a man with a brain."
Reeves, whose face had grown redder and redder, half rose from hischair.
"One moment," said Enoch. "Have you a sound, fair, policy for Idahowater power, that will help Bill Jones in the same proportion that ithelps you?"
"I had no policy. I came down here to get yours. I've got it allright, and I'm going back and tell my folks they'd better give up anyidea of water power during the present administration."
"I wouldn't tell them that," said Enoch, "because it wouldn't be true.I am considering a most interesting proposition from Idaho farmers. Ithought perhaps you had something better."
Reeves jumped to his feet. "I'll not be made a monkey of any longer!"he shouted. "But I'll get you for this yet," and he rushed from theoffice.
Enoch shrugged his shoulders as he turned to the inevitable pile ofletters. Abbott came in with a broad smile.
"Mr. Secretary, Miss Diana Allen is in the outer office."
Enoch scowled. "Have I got to see her?"
"Well, she's mighty easy to look at, Mr. Secretary! And more thanthat, she announces that if you're engaged, she'll wait, a day, a week,or a month."
Enoch groaned. "Show her in, Abbott, and be ready to show her out infive minutes."
Abbott showed her in. She entered the room slowly, a tall woman in abrown silk suit. Everything about her it seemed to Enoch at first wasbrown, except her eyes. Even her skin was a rich, even cream tint.But her eyes were hazel, the largest, frankest, most intelligent eyesEnoch ever had seen in a woman's head. And with the eyes went anexpression of extraordinary sweetness, a sweetness to which everyfeature contributed, the rather short, straight nose, the full,sensitive lips, with deep, upturned corners, the round chin.
True beauty in a woman is something far deeper, far less tangible thanmere perfection of feature. One grows unutterably weary of the Venusde Milo type of face, with its expressionless perfection. And yet, socareless is nature that not twice in a lifetime does one see a woman'sface in which are combined fineness of intelligence and of character,and beauty of feature. But Diana was the thrice fortunate possess
or ofthis combination. She was so lovely that one's heart ached while itexulted in looking at her. For it seemed a tragic thing that beauty sodeep and so rare should embody itself in a form so ephemeral as thehuman body.
She was very slender. She was very erect. Her small head with themasses of light brown hair shining beneath the simple hat, was heldproudly. Yet there was a matchless simplicity and lack ofself-consciousness about Diana that impressed even the carelessobserver: if there was a careless observer of Diana!
Enoch stood beside his desk in his usual dignified calm. His keen eyesswept Diana from head to foot.
"You are kind to see me so quickly, Mr. Secretary," said Diana, holdingout her hand.
Enoch smiled, but only slightly. It seemed to Diana that she never hadseen so young a man with so stern a face.
"You must have arrived on the same train with your father's note, MissAllen. Is this your first trip east?"
"Yes, Mr. Huntingdon," replied Diana, sinking into the chair oppositeEnoch's. "If he had had his way, bless his heart, I wouldn't have hadeven a first trip. Isn't it strange that he should have such anantipathy to New York and Washington!"
The Secretary looked at the girl thoughtfully. "As I recall yourfather, he usually had a good reason for whatever he felt or did.You're planning to stay in Washington, are you, Miss Allen?"
"If I can get work in the Indian Bureau!" replied Diana.
"Why the Indian Bureau?" asked Enoch.
"I'm a photographer of Indians," answered Diana simply. "I've beenengaged for years in trying to make a lasting pictorial record of theIndians and their ways. I've reached the limit of what I can dowithout access to records and books and I can't afford a year of studyin Washington unless I work. That's why I want work in the IndianBureau. Killing two birds with one stone, Mr. Secretary."
Enoch did not shift his thoughtful gaze from the sweet face oppositehis for a long moment after she had ceased to speak. Then he pressedthe desk button and Abbott appeared. He glanced at his chief, then hiseyes fastened themselves on Diana's profile.
"Mr. Abbott, will you ask the Commissioner of Indian Affairs to comein? I believe he is with the Assistant Secretary this morning."
Charley nodded and disappeared.
"I brought a little portfolio of some of my prints," Diana spokehesitatingly. "I left them in the other room. Mr. Abbott thought youmight like to see them, but perhaps--you seem so very busy and I thinkthere must be at least a thousand people waiting to see you!"
"There always are," said Enoch, without a smile as he pressed anotherbutton. Jonas' black head appeared. "Bring in the portfolio MissAllen left in the other room, please, Jonas!"
"Yes, Mr. Secretary," replied Jonas, withdrawing his eyes slowly fromDiana's eager face.
The portfolio and the Indian Commissioner arrived together. After theintroduction had been made, Enoch said:
"Watkins, do you know anything about Indians?"
"Very little, Mr. Secretary," with a smile.
"Would you be interested in looking at some photographs of Indian life?"
"Made by this young lady?" asked Watkins, looking with unconcealedinterest at Diana.
"Yes," said Enoch.
"And shown and explained by her?" asked the Indian Commissioner, atwinkle in his brown eyes.
Diana laughed, and so did Abbott. Enoch's even white teeth flashed fora moment.
"I wish I had time to join you," he said. "What I want to suggest, Mr.Watkins, is that you see if Miss Allen will qualify to take care ofsome of the research work you received an appropriation for the otherday. You were speaking to Abbott, I think, of the difficulty offinding people with authentic knowledge of the Indians."
The Indian Commissioner nodded and tucked Diana's portfolio under hisarm. "Come along, Miss Allen!"
Diana rose. "If we don't leave now, I have an idea we will be asked todo so," she said, the corners of her mouth deepening suddenly. "Whathappens if one doesn't leave when requested?"
"One is cast in a dungeon, deep under the Capitol building," repliedEnoch, holding out his hand.
Diana laughed. "Thank you for seeing me and helping me, Mr.Huntingdon," she said, and a moment later Jonas closed the door behindher and the Commissioner.
"How come that young lady to stay so long, Mr. Abbott?" Jonas askedCharley in a low voice, as he helped the young man bring in a huge pileof Reclamation reports.
"Did you get a good look at her, Jonas?" demanded Abbott in the sametone.
"Yes," replied Jonas.
"Then why ask foolish questions?"
"The boss don't like 'em, no matter what they look like."
"Every man has his breaking point, Jonas," smiled Charley.
Enoch turned from the window where he had been standing for a moment inunprecedented idleness.
"I think you'd better let me have ten or fifteen minutes on that reportto the President, Abbott."
"I will, Mr. Secretary. By the way, here is the data you asked me toget for your speech at the Willard to-night."
Enoch nodded, pocketed the notes and began to dictate. The day went onas usual, but it seemed to Jonas, when he helped the Secretary to dressfor dinner that night that he was unusually weary.
"How come you to be so tired to-night, boss?" he asked finally.
"I don't know, old man! Jonas, how long since I've had a vacation?"
"Seven years, boss."
"Sometimes I think I need one, Jonas."
"Need one! Boss, they work you to death! They all say so. Your ownwork's enough to kill three men. And now they do say the President iscalling on you for all the hard jobs he don't dare trust nobody else todo. How come he don't do 'em hisself?"
"Oh, I'm not doing more than my share, Jonas! But you and I'll have tohave a vacation one of these days, sure. Maybe we'll go to Japan.I'll be home early, if I can make it, Jonas."
Jonas nodded, and looked out the window. "Carriage's here, sir," andEnoch ran quickly down the stairs. It was only eleven o'clock when hereached home. The rain had ceased at sundown and the night was humidand depressing. When Enoch was once more in his pajamas, he unlockedthe desk drawer and, taking out the journal, he turned to the firstpage and began to read with absorbed interest.
"May 12.--This is my eighteenth birthday. I've had a long ride on thetop of the bus, thinking about Mr. Seaton. He was a fine chap. Hegave me a long lecture once on women. He said a guy must have a fewclean, straight women friends to keep normal. Of course he was right,but I couldn't tell him or anybody else how it is with me. He saidthat if you can share your worries with your friends they're finished.And he was right again. But they're some things a guy can't share. Idid it once, back there in the Canyon, and I'll always be glad I did.But I was just a kid then. The hunch that pulled me up straight thenwouldn't work now. They never did prove she was not my mother. Theynever found out a thing about me, except what Luigi and the neighborshad to tell. She was my mother, all right. And I don't feel as if Iever can believe in any of them. I don't want to. All I want of womenis for them to let me alone and I'll let them alone. But a few weeksago I had a fine idea--to invent a girl of my own! I got the idea inEnglish Literature class, from a poem of Wordsworth's.
"Three years she grew in sun and shower; Then nature said, A lovelier flower On earth was never sown; This child I to myself will take, She shall be mine and I will make A lady of my own."
"I've invented her and I'm going to keep a journal to her and I'll tellher all the things I'd tell my mother, if she'd been decent, and to mysweetheart, if I could believe in them. I don't know just how old sheis. Somewhere in her twenties, I guess. She's tall and slim and shehas a creamy kind of skin. Her hair is light brown, almost gold. It'svery thick. She has it in braids wound all round her head. Her eyesare hazel and she has a sweet mouth and she is very beautiful. And sheis good, and tender, and she understands everything about me. Sheknows just how bad I've been and the fight I'm putting up to
keepstraight. And every night before I go to bed, I'll tell her what myday has been. I'll begin to-night by telling her about myself.
"I don't know where I was born, Lucy, or who my father was. My motherwas the mistress of an Italian called Luigi Giuseppi. She died arotten death, leaving me at six to Luigi. He treated me badly but heneeded me in his gambling business, and he kept me by telling me howbad my mother was and threatening to tell other people. From the timeI was eight till I was fourteen, I don't suppose a day passed withouthis telling me of the rot I had inherited from my mother. I begangambling for him when I was about ten.
"When I was fourteen I was arrested in a gambling raid and paroled inthe care of John Seaton, a lawyer. He took me to the Grand Canyon. Heand Frank Allen, a guide, suggested to me the idea that Luigi'smistress was not my mother. Such an idea never had occurred to mebefore. They first gave it to me in the bottom of the Canyon.
"I can't put into writing what that suggestion, coupled with my firstview of the Canyon meant to me. But it was as if I had met God face toface and He had taken pity on a dirty little street mucker and He hadlifted me in His great hands and had told me to try to be good and Hewould help me. I never had believed in God before. And I came backfrom that trip resolved to put up a fight.
"Mr. Seaton began the search for my folks right off, but he didn't findanything before he died, which was only a year later. But I made him asolemn promise I'd go through college and study law and I'm going to doit. He was not a rich man but he left me enough money to see methrough college. In one more year I'll finish the High School. Istill play cards once in a while in a joint on Sixth Avenue. I knowit's wrong and I'm trying hard to quit. But sometimes I just can'thelp it, especially when I'm worried.
"Luigi will be in the pen another seven years. When he comes out I amgoing to beat him up till he tells me about my mother and father.Though perhaps he's been telling the truth!"
"May 13.--Lucy, I made a speech in third year rhetoric to-day and theteacher kept me after class. He said he'd been watching me for sometime and he wanted to tell me he thought I'd make a great orator, someday. He's going to give me special training out of school hours, fornothing. I'm darned lucky. If a guy's going into politics, oratory'sthe biggest help. But to be famous as a speaker isn't why I'm goinginto politics. I'm going to clean Minetta Lane up. I'm going to tryto fix it in New York so's a fellow couldn't have a mother and astepfather like mine. You know what I mean, don't you? Darn it, a kidsuffers so! You know that joint on Sixth Avenue where I go and playcards once in a while? Well, it was raided to-day. I wonder what Mr.Seaton would have said if he'd been alive and I'd been there and gotpinched again!
"I'm going to throw no bluffs with you, Lucy. Gambling's in my blood.Luigi used to say I came by my skill straight. And I get the same kindof craving for it that a dope fiend does for dope. I don't care totell anybody about it, or they'd send me to an insane asylum. When Ifirst came from the Canyon and moved out of Minetta Lane, I swore I'dnever put foot in it again until I went in to clean it up. And Ihaven't and I won't. But for the first year my nails were bitten tothe quick. If my mother--but what's the use of that! Mr. Seaton saidevery man has to have a woman to whom he opens up the deep within him.I have you and you know you've promised to help me."
"June 1.--Lucy, I've got a job tutoring for the summer. The rhetoricteacher got it for me. It's the son of an Episcopal vicar. He is aboy of twelve and they want him taught English and declamation. Lord!If they knew all about me! But the kid is safe in my hands. I knowhow kids of twelve feel. At least, the Minetta Lane variety. So I'llbe at the sea shore all summer. Going some, for Minetta Lane, eh?
"Lucy, I made fifty dollars last night at poker from a Senior in theStudent's Club. This morning I made him take it back."
Enoch closed the book and leaned back in his chair as Jonas appeared atthe door with a pitcher of ice water.
"How come you don't try to get a little rest, boss?" asked Jonas,glancing disapprovingly at the black book.
"I am resting, old man! Don't bother your good old head about me, buttumble off to sleep yourself!"
"I don't never sleep before you do. I ain't for thirteen years, and Idon't calculate to begin now." Jonas turned the bed covers back andmarched out of the room.
Enoch smiled and, opening the book again, he turned the pages slowlytill another entry struck his eye.
"February 6.--If I could only see you, touch you, cling to your tenderhand to-night, Lucy! You know that I was chosen to represent Columbiain the dedication of the Lincoln statue. It was to have taken placenext Wednesday. But the British Ambassador, who was to be the chiefMogul there, was called home to England for some reason or other andthey shoved the dedication forward to to-day, so as to catch him beforehe sailed. And some of the speakers weren't prepared, so it came aboutthat I, an unknown Columbia senior, had to give the chief speech of theday. Not that anybody, let alone myself, realized that it was going tobe the chief speech. It just turned out that way. Lucy dear, theywent crazy over it! And all the papers to-night gave it in full. Itwas only a thousand words. Why in the name of all the fiends in Hadesdo you suppose nothing relieves me in moments of great mental stressbut gambling? You notice, don't you, that I talk to you of MinettaLane only when something tremendous, either good or bad, has happenedto me? Other men with the same weakness, you say, turn to drink. Isuppose so, poor devils. Oh, Lucy, I wish I were in the Grand Canyonto-night! I wish you and I were together in Frank's camp at the footof Bright Angel. It is sunset and the Canyon is full of unspeakablewonder. Even the thought of it rests me and makes me strong. . . .Those stars mean that I've torn into a million pieces a hundred-dollarbill I won in Sixth Avenue to-night."
Enoch turned many pages and then paused.
"March 28.--There is a chance, Lucy, that I may be appointed secretaryto the reform Mayor of New York. I would be very glad to give up thepractice of law. Beyond my gift for pleading and a retentive memory, Ihave no real talents for a successful legal career. You look at mewith those thoughtful, tender gray eyes of yours. Ah, Lucy, you are somuch wiser than I, wise with the brooding, mystical wisdom of theCanyon in the starlight. You have intimated to me several times thatlaw was not my end. You are right, as usual. Law has its face foreverturned backward. It is searching always for precedent rather thanjustice. A man who is going into politics should be ever facing thefuture. He should use the past only in helping him to avoid mistakesin going forward. And, perhaps I am wrong. I am willing to admit thatmy unfortunate boyhood may have made me over inclined to brood, but itseems to me very difficult to stick to the law, make money, and bemorally honest, in the best sense. If I clear Bill Jones, who is, as Iknow, ethically as guilty as Satan, though legally within his rights,can I face you as a man who is steel true and blade straight? I hope Iget that appointment! I was tired to-night, Lucy, but this little talkwith you has rested me, as usual."
"March 29.--I have the appointment, Lucy. This is the beginning of mypolitical career--the beginning of the end of Minetta Lane. You have aheavy task before you, dear, to keep me, eyes to the goal, running therace like a thoroughbred. Some day, Lucy, we'll go back to the Canyon,chins up, work done, gentlemen unafraid!"
Enoch turned more pages, covering a year or so of the diary.
"March 30.--I've been in the City Hall two years today. Lucy, the onlychance on earth I'll ever have to clean out the rookeries of New Yorkwould be to be a Tammany Police Commissioner. And Tammany wouldcertainly send its best gunman after a Police Commissioner who didn'tdote on rookeries. Lucy, can't city governments be clean? Is humannature normally and habitually corrupt when it comes to governing acity? The Mayor and all his appointees are simply wading through thevast quagmire of the common citizen's indifference, fought every stepby the vile creatures who batten on the administration of the city'saffairs. Do you suppose that if the schools laid tremendous stress onclean citizenship and began in the kinderga
rten to teach children howto govern in the most practical way, it would help? I believe itwould. I'm going to tuck that thought in the back of my head and someday I may have opportunity to use it. I wish I could do something forthe poor boys of New York. I wish the Grand Canyon were over inJersey!"
"Sept. 4.--I am unfit to speak to you, but oh, I need you as I neverdid before. Don't turn those kind, clear-seeing eyes away from me,Lucy! Lucy! It happened this way. I wanted, if possible to make ourPolice Commissioner see Minetta Lane through my eyes. And I took himdown there, three days ago. It's unchanged, in all these years, exceptfor the worse. And Luigi was dragging a sack of rags into hisbasement. He was gray and bent but it was Luigi. And he recognized meand yelled 'Bastard!' after me. Lucy, I went back and beat him, tillthe Commissioner hauled me off. And the dirty, spluttering littledevil roared my story to all that greedy, listening crowd! I slippedaway, Lucy, and I hid myself in a place I know in Chinatown. No! No!I don't drink and I don't hit the pipe. I _gamble_. My luck isunbelievable. And when the fit is on me, I'd gamble my very soul away.Jonas found me. Jonas is a colored porter in the City Hall who hasrather adopted me. And Jonas said, 'Boss, how come you to do a stuntlike this? The Police Commissioner say to the Mayor and I hear 'em, anItalian black hander take you for somebody else and he have him run in.I tell 'em you gone down to Atlantic City. You come home with me,Boss.' He put his kind black hand on my shoulder, and Lucy, his eyeswere full of tears. I left my winnings with the Chinaman, and cameback here with Jonas. Lucy! Oh, if I could really hear your voice!"
"Sept. 5.--I had a long talk with the Police Commissioner to-day. Ican trust him the way I used to trust Mr. Seaton, Lucy. I told him thetruth about Luigi and me and he promised to do what he could to ferretout the truth about my people. If I could only know that my father washalf-way decent, no matter what my mother was, it would make anenormous difference to me."
Enoch turned another year of pages.
"Oct. 12.--Lucy, the Police Commissioner says he has to believe thatLuigi's mistress was my mother. He advises me to close that part of mylife for good and all and give myself to politics. Easy advice! But Iam going to play the game straight in spite of Minetta Lane."
Enoch paused long over this entry, then turned on again.
"Nov. 6.--Well, my dear, shake hands with Congressman Huntingdon. Yes,ma'am! It's true! Aren't you proud of me? And, Lucy, listen! Don'thave any illusions on how I got there. It wasn't brains. It wasn'tthat the people wanted me to put over any particular idea or ideal forthem. I simply so intrigued them with flights of oratory that theydecided I was a natural born congressman! Well, bless 'em for doingit, anyhow, and I'll play the game for them. If I ever had had afather I'd like to talk politics with him. He must have had somedecency in him, or I'd have been all bad, like my mother. Or maybe I'ma throw-back from two degenerate parents. Well, we'll end the breedwith me.
"Lucy, it would have been romantic if I could have cleaned out MinettaLane and other New York rookeries. But it would have been about likesatisfying one's self with washing a boy's face when his body was amass of running sores. We've got to cure the sores and in order to dothat we've got to find the cause. No one thing is going to prove apanacea. I wonder if it's possible to teach children so thoroughlythat each one owes a certain amount of altruistic, clean service to hislocal and his federal government that an honest, responsible citizenrywould result?"
Enoch drank of the ice water and continued to turn the close-writtenpages.
"April 12.--I don't boast much about my career as a Congressman. I'vebeen straight and I've gabbed a good deal. That about sums up myhistory. If I go back as Police Commissioner, I shall feel much moreuseful.
"Lucy, love is a very important thing in a man's life. Sometimes, Ithink that the less he has of it, the more important it becomes. I hadthought that as I grew older my career would more and more fill mylife, that youth and passion were synonymous and that with maturitywould come calm and surcease. This is not the truth. The older I growthe more difficult it becomes for me to feel that work can fullysatisfy a man. Nor will merely caring for a woman be sufficient. Aman must care for a woman whom he knows to be fine, who can meet hismental needs, or love becomes merely physical and never satisfies him.Well, I must not whimper. I have talent and tremendous opportunities,many friends and splendid health. And I have you. And each year youbecome a more intrinsic part of my life. How patient you have beenwith me all these years! I've been wondering, lately, if you haven'trather a marked sense of humor. It seems to me that nothing else couldmake you so patient, so tender and so keen! I'm sure I'm an object ofmirth to Jonas at times, so I must be to you. All right! Laugh away!I laugh at myself!
"Lucy, it has been over eighteen months since I touched a card."
Jonas put his head in at the door, but Enoch turned on to the middle ofthe book.
"Dec. 1.--They won't let me keep it up long, Lucy, but Lord, Lord,hasn't the going been good, my dear, while it lasted! I've twistedTammany's tail till its head's dropped off! I've 'got long poles andpoked out the nests and blocked up the holes. I shall consult with thecarpenters and builders and leave in our town not even a trace of therats.' I've routed out hereditary grafters and looters. I've run downwealthy gunmen and I've turned men's fame to a notoriety that carried astench. But they'll get me, Lucy! They'll either kill me or send meback to Congress."
Enoch turned more pages.
"Nov. 1.--Congress again, eh, Lucy? And you care for Washington aslittle as I! Dear, this has been a hard day. I've been saying good-byto the force! By the eternal, but they are men! And now all thatwonderful machine, built up, really, by the men themselves, must fallapart! What a waste of human energy! Yet, I've come to the conclusionthat the man who devotes himself to public service loses much of hisusefulness if he allows himself to grow pessimistic about human nature.If there were not more good than bad in the world, we'd still bemonkeys! I have ceased to search for some great single ideal for whichI can fight. Whatever abilities I have in me I shall devote to helpingto administer government cleanly. After all, we gave New York a greatobject lesson in the possibilities of cleaning out Tammany's pesthouse. Perhaps somebody's great-grandchild, inspired by the history ofmy attempt will try again and be successful for a longer period. Andoh, woman! It was a gorgeous fight!
"Jonas is delighted that we are returning to Washington. He says weare to keep house. I am a great responsibility to Jonas. He is veryfirm with me, but I think he's as fond of me as I am of him.
"Lucy, how am I to go on, year after year like this, with only my dreamof you? How am I to do my work like a man, with only half a man's lifeto live? What can all the admiring plaudits mean to me when I knowthat you are only a dream, only a dream?"
Enoch sat forward in his chair, laid the book on the desk, opened tothe last entry and seized his pen.
"So your name is not Lucy, but Diana! Oh, my dearest, and you did notrecognize me at all, while my very heart was paralyzed with emotion!You must have been a very lovely little girl that the memory of youshould have been so impressed on my subconsciousness. Oh, howbeautiful you are! How beautiful! And to think that I must never letyou know what you are to me. Never! Never! The strain stops with me."
He dropped his pen abruptly and, turning off the light, flung himselfdown on his bed. Jonas, listening long at the door, waited for thefull, even breathing that would mark the end of his day's work. But itdid not come, and dawn struggling through the hall window found Jonassitting on the floor beside the half-opened door, his black headdrooping on his breast, but his eyes open.
Enoch reached his office on the stroke of nine, as usual. His face wasa little haggard and set but he came in briskly and spoke cheerfully toCharley Abbott.
"A little hotter than ever, eh, Abbott? I think you're lookingdragged, my boy. When are you going to take your vacation?"
"In the fall, after you have had yours, Mr. Secretar
y." The two mengrinned at each other.
"Did the Indian Commissioner find work for Miss Allen?" asked Enochabruptly.
"Oh, yes! And she was as surprised and pleased as a child."
"How do you know that?" demanded the Secretary.
Charley looked a little confused. "I took her out to lunch, Mr.Huntingdon. Jove, she's the most beautiful woman I ever saw!"
"Well, let's finish off that report to the President, Mr. Abbott. Thatmust go to him to-morrow, regardless of whom or what I have to neglectto-day."
Abbott opened his note book. But the dictation hardly had begun whenthe telephone rang and Enoch was summoned to the White House. It wasnoon when he left the President. Washington lay as if scorching undera burning glass. The dusty leaves drooped on the trees. Even thecarefully cherished White House lawn seemed to have forgotten therecent rains. Enoch dismissed his carriage and crossed slowly toPennsylvania Avenue. It had occurred to him suddenly that it had beenmany weeks since he had taken the noon hour outside of his office. Hehad found that luncheon engagements broke seriously into his day'swork. He strolled slowly along the avenue, watching the swelteringnoon crowds unseeingly, entirely unconscious of the fact that manypeople turned to look at him. He paused before a Johnstown Lunch sign,wondering whimsically what Jonas would say if it were reported that theboss had eaten here. And as he paused, the incessantly swinging dooremitted Miss Diana Allen.
Enoch's pause became a full stop. "How do you do, Miss Allen?" he said.
Diana flushed a little. "How do you do, Mr. Secretary! Were youlooking for a cheap lunch?"
"Jonas provides the cheapest lunch known to Washington," said Enoch."I was looking for some one to walk up Pennsylvania Avenue with me."
"You seem to be well provided with company." Diana glanced at the knotof people who were eagerly watching the encounter.
Enoch did not follow her glance. His eyes were fastened on Diana'slovely curving lips. "And I want to hear about the work in the IndianBureau."
Diana fell into step with him. "I think the work is going to beinteresting. Mr. Watkins is more than kind about my pictures. I'm tosend home for the best of my collection and he is going to give anexhibition of them."
"Is he giving you a decent salary?" asked Enoch.
"Ample for all my needs," replied Diana.
"Do your needs stop with the Johnstown Lunch?" demanded Enoch.
"Well," replied Diana, "if you'd lived on the trail as much as I have,you'd not complain of the Johnstown Lunch. I've made worse coffeemyself, and I've seen more flies, too."
Enoch chuckled. "What does Watkins call your job?"
"I'm a special investigator for the Indian Bureau."
Enoch chuckled again. "Right! And that title Watkins counts as worthat least five dollars a week. The remainder is the equivalent of astenographer's salary. I know him!"
"He is quite all right," said Diana quickly. "It must be extremelydifficult to manage a budget. No matter how large they are, they'realways too small. To administer the affairs of a dying race withinadequate funds--"
Diana hesitated.
"And in entire ignorance of the race itself," added Enoch quietly. "Iknow! But I had to choose between a rattling good administrator and arattling good ethnologist."
Diana nodded slowly. "Your choice was inevitable, I suppose. And Mr.Watkins seems very efficient."
"Well, and where does your princely salary permit you to live?" Enochconcluded.
"On New Jersey Avenue, in a brown stone front with pansies in front andcats in the rear, an old Confederate soldier in the basement and ratsin the attic. As for odors and furniture, any kind whatever, providedone is not too particular."
"My word! how you are going to miss the Canyon!" exclaimed Enoch.
Diana nodded. "Yes, but after all one's avocation is the mostimportant thing in life."'
"Is it?" asked Enoch. "I've tried to make myself believe that, but sofar I've failed."
"You mean," Diana spoke quickly, "that I ought to have stayed with myfather?"
"No, I don't!" returned Enoch, quite as quickly. "At least, I meanthat I know nothing whatever about that. I would say as a generalprinciple, though, that parents who have adequate means, are selfish tohang on the necks of their grown children."
"Father misses mother so," murmured Diana, with apparent irrelevance.
Enoch said nothing. They were opposite the Post Office now and Dianapaused. "I must go to the Post Office! Good-by, Mr. Secretary."
"Good-by, Miss Allen," said Enoch, taking off his hat and holding outhis hand. "Let me know if there is anything further I can do for you!"
"Oh, I'm quite all right and shall not bother you again, thank you,"replied Diana cheerfully.
Enoch was very warm when he reached his office. Jonas and the bottleof milk were awaiting him. "How come you to be so hot, boss?" demandedJonas.
"I walked back. It was very foolish," replied Enoch meekly.
"I don't dare to let you out o' my sight," said Jonas severely.
"I think I do need watching," sighed Enoch, beginning his belatedluncheon.
That night the Secretary wrote to Diana's father.
"My dear Frank: Diana came and I found a job for her in the Indianoffice. I feel like a dog to have broken my word with you, but herwork is very interesting and very important, and I feel that she oughtto have her few months of study in Washington. She is very beautiful,Frank, and very fine. You must try to forgive me. Faithfully yours,
"ENOCH HUNTINGDON."