kept in their landing areas in Africa, or are they being transported inland to more strategic positions?”
“They are on the move to the frontier. If the Communists strike, we want to be in control of as much ground as possible.”
“Mr. President.” It was the Chicago
“There is no way of knowing for certain. Intelligence believes the Soviet timetable is set for late today or early tomorrow morning.”
The Associated Press correspondent asked, “If an actual clash takes place, and the Russian Premier then suggests a compromise over Baraza, have you considered any alternative or revised policy in regard to our position in Baraza and toward the Pact countries?”
“As long as I am President, there will be no compromise when it concerns defending democracy anywhere.”
“Mr. President,” a rasping voice called out. It was Reb Blaser, of the Miller newspapers. All eyes were upon him as he pushed forward, and Dilman waited, regarding him with distaste. “Mr. President,” said Blaser, “of course, the Senate will have something to say about what you have just announced. Are you aware that a sampling poll made of the Senate members last night, by the House managers, indicates that the sentiment stands eighty senators for your conviction, twenty for your acquittal, and therefore the Senate has thirteen more votes than the necessary two-thirds required to impeach you? Wouldn’t that-”
“Mr. Blaser,” said Dilman, “the main forces in my command are committed to defending democracy in Baraza, not in the United States Senate. I am here to discuss foreign affairs. Perhaps you might better ask your question of former Secretary of State Eaton, who seems to have become an expert on domestic affairs.” For the first time, there was laughter, and then Dilman added, “If you’ve ever gone to a prize-fight, you will know that the judges’ ballots are not counted before the first bell, but after the last bell-”
“Except when there’s a knockout!” Blaser shouted.
Dilman ignored him. “That is all, gentlemen.”
The United Press International correspondent intoned, “Thank you, Mr. President.”
Briskly, Dilman left the Cabinet Room, parted with Flannery at Miss Foster’s desk, and returned to his own desk in the privacy of the Oval Office.
He switched on the television set and dropped into his swivel chair, exhausted.
When the picture came on the screen, it showed Nat Abrahams, in the latter part of his summation of the defense case, earnestly addressing the senators.
“-absurd even to consider that the President violated the Constitution, disregarded the law, displayed contempt for your noble body, by his necessary removal of Secretary of State Eaton,” Abrahams was saying. “Learned senators and judges, as we have attempted to show the other three articles to be a maliciously woven fabric of falsehoods, let me now remind you that the more serious charges embodied in Article IV represent the autocratic, intemperate vengefulness of a small group of legislators. Let me hark back to 1868, when another President’s entire impeachment revolved around his right to override the Tenure of Office Act, ancestor of the New Succession Bill, which President Dilman challenged. Chief Justice Chase, who sat on the bench then, where Chief Justice Johnstone sits now, made the following sage remark, as applicable and important in these troubled times as it was in that day: ‘Acts of Congress,’ he warned, ‘not warranted by the Constitution, are not laws. In case a law believed by the President to be unwarranted by the Constitution is passed, notwithstanding his veto, it seems to me that it is his duty to execute it precisely as if he had held it to be constitutional,
“So spoke a Chief Justice, in the only other impeachment of an American President in our history. So speak I, on behalf of our President today. The issue is simple. President Dilman assumed office swearing to preserve, protect, defend the Constitution. How could he do so, how could he carry out his duties, if another branch of government, by means of a doubtful law, and from motivations not necessary to repeat, stripped him of his power to thus preserve, protect, defend? If the President has no longer the power to remove an adviser who is acting as President behind his back, an adviser ready to sell out democracy in Africa to the Soviet Union while the lawful President himself, determined to save that democracy, is rendered helpless, where, then, is left the executive branch, and where, then, is left the Constitution itself? Learned senators-”
The telephone behind him buzzed, and Dilman sat up, lowered the volume of the television set, and spun around to the console.
“Yes?”
The voice was Miss Foster’s. “Mr. President, I’m sorry, but there’s a new policeman at the north gate who insists on speaking to you directly. He says there is someone at the gate who claims to be a relative of yours and wants to see you. He wouldn’t tell me more.”
“A relative?”
“I told him you couldn’t be-”
“One moment, Miss Foster.” On impulse, he said, “Connect me with the gate.”
He waited, wondering.
A troubled male voice came on. “Mr. President-”
“Yes-yes-”
“I know I’m not supposed to disturb you, but the person insisted I contact you directly. I know there are crackpots and impostors every day, at least a half dozen daily coming around like this, but this one, she showed me an old beat-up snapshot of you, a photograph from her purse, signed by you, and she-”
“She?” said Dilman slowly.
“A young lady, Mr. President. She claims to be your daughter. I wouldn’t give her the time of day, you understand, because-how should I put it?-she looks white to me-but the newspapers did say you-you have a daughter like that-still, the identification cards in her wallet say her name is Dawson, Linda Dawson, which doesn’t make sense, except she says you might recognize that name even though it’s not her real name, but I thought I ought to-”
“What does she give for her real name?”
“She says her name is Mindy-yes, that’s right-Mindy Dilman, like it’s supposed to be, and she says for me to tell the President she’s better now, and she’s been away too long-”
For the first time in weeks, Dilman felt a real smile ease the muscles of his face.
“Mister,” Dilman interrupted, “I have an idea that young lady is neither a crackpot nor an impostor. You show her right in. You tell Mindy-her father is waiting for her. Now, hurry up! Don’t leave her standing around!”
In the paneled and book-lined library of their early English house in Georgetown, at ten minutes to eleven in the morning, Arthur Eaton and Kay Varney Eaton sat side by side on the couch, concentrating their attention upon Zeke Miller, who was gesticulating on the television screen as he approached the end of his closing address on behalf of the House managers before the United States Senate.
“And so, honorable senators,” Miller was saying, “since the able manager of the defense has chosen to bolster his concluding remarks with words borrowed from the impeachment proceedings of 1868, I feel that I can do no less upon behalf of the House indictment. Let me close my remarks in support of Article IV by referring to the wisdom of Representative Butler, as shown in the remarks made by him on that other historic occasion, and conclude by addressing to you the further remarks made by Representative Bingham before the Senate at that same trial.
“The words of Representative Butler, applicable to Article IV, are these: “This, then, is the plain and inevitable issue before the Senate and the American public-Has the President, under the Constitution, the more than kingly prerogative at will to remove from office and suspend from office indefinitely, all executive officers of the United States, either civil, military, or naval, at any and all times, and fill the vacancies with creatures of his own appointment, for his own purposes, without any restraint whatever, or possibility of restraint by the Senate or by Congress through laws duly enacted? The House of Representatives, in behalf of the people, joins this issue by
