XLI
It was the latter part of John’s fifth winter in Homeville. The business of the office had largely increased. The new manufactories which had been established did their banking with Mr. Harum, and the older concerns, including nearly all the merchants in the village, had transferred their accounts from Syrchester banks to David’s. The callow Hopkins had fledged and developed into a competent all-’round man, able to do anything in the office, and there was a new “skeezicks” discharging Peleg’s former functions. Considerable impetus had been given to the business of the town by the new road whose rails had been laid the previous summer. There had been a strong and acrimonious controversy over the route which the road should take into and through the village. There was the party of the “nabobs” (as they were characterized by Mr. Harum) and their following, and the party of the “village people,” and the former had carried their point; but now the road was an accomplished fact, and most of the bitterness which had been engendered had died away. Yet the struggle was still matter for talk.
“Did I ever tell you,” said David, as he and his cashier were sitting in the rear room of the bank, “how Lawyer Staples come to switch round in that there railroad jangle last spring?”
“I remember,” said John, “that you told me he had deserted his party, and you laughed a little at the time, but you did not tell me how it came about.”
“I kind o’ thought I told ye,” said David.
“No,” said John, “I am quite sure you did not.”
“Wa’al,” said Mr. Harum, “the’ was, as you know, the Tenaker-Rogers crowd wantin’ one thing, an’ the Purse-Babbit lot bound to have the other, an’ run the road under the other fellers’ noses. Staples was workin’ tooth an’ nail fer the Purse crowd, an’ bein’ a good deal of a politician, he was helpin’ ’em a good deal. In fact, he was about their best card. I wa’n’t takin’ much hand in the matter either way, though my feelin’s was with the Tenaker party. I know ’t would come to a point where some money ’d prob’ly have to be used, an’ I made up my mind I wouldn’t do much drivin’ myself unless I had to, an’ not then till the last quarter of the heat. Wa’al, it got to lookin’ like a putty even thing. What little show I had made was if anythin’ on the Purse side. One day Tenaker come in to see me an’ wanted to know flat-footed which side the fence I was on. ‘Wa’al,’ I says, ‘I’ve ben settin’ up fer shapes to be kind o’ on the fence, but I don’t mind sayin’, betwixt you an’ me, that the bulk o’ my heft is a-saggin’ your way; but I hain’t took no active part, an’ Purse an’ them thinks I’m goin’ to be on their side when it comes to a pinch.’
“ ‘Wa’al,’ he says, ‘it’s goin’ to be a putty close thing, an’ we’re goin’ to need all the help we c’n git.’
“ ‘Wa’al,’ I says, ‘I guess that’s so, but fer the present I reckon I c’n do ye more good by keepin’ in the shade. Are you folks prepared to spend a little money?’ I says.
“ ‘Yes,’ he says, ‘if it comes to that.’
“ ‘Wa’al,’ I says, ‘it putty most gen’ally does come to that, don’t it? Now, the’s one feller that’s doin’ ye more harm than some others.’
“ ‘You mean Staples?’ he says.
“ ‘Yes,’ I says, ‘I mean Staples. He don’t really care a hill o’ white beans which way the road comes in, but he thinks he’s on the pop’lar side. Now,’ I says, ‘I don’t know as it’ll be nec’sary to use money with him, an’ I don’t say ’t you could, anyway, but mebbe his yawp c’n be stopped. I’ll have a quiet word with him,’ I says, ‘an’ see you agin.’ So,” continued Mr. Harum, “the next night the’ was quite a lot of ’em in the bar of the new hotel, an’ Staples was haranguin’ away the best he knowed how, an’ bime by I nodded him off to one side, an’ we went across the hall into the settin’ room.
“ ‘I see you feel putty strong ’bout this bus’nis,’ I says.
“ ‘Yes, sir, it’s a matter of princ’ple with me,’ he says, knockin’ his fist down onto the table.
“ ‘How does the outcome on’t look to ye?’ I says. ‘Goin’ to be a putty close race, ain’t it?’
“ ‘Wa’al,’ he says, ‘ ’tween you an’ me, I reckon it is.’
“ ‘That’s the way it looks to me,’ I says, ‘an’ more’n that, the other fellers are ready to spend some money at a pinch.’
“ ‘They be, be they?’ he says.
“ ‘Yes, sir,’ I says, ‘an’ we’ve got to meet ’em halfway. Now,’ I says, takin’ a paper out o’ my pocket, ‘what I wanted to say to you is this: You ben ruther more prom’nent in this matter than most anybody—fur’s talkin’ goes—but I’m consid’ably int’risted. The’s got to be some money raised, an’ I’m ready,’ I says, ‘to put down as much as you be up to a couple o’ hunderd, an’ I’ll take the paper ’round to the rest; but,’ I says, unfoldin’ it, ‘I think you’d ought to head the list, an’ I’ll come next.’ Wa’al,” said David with a chuckle and a shake of the head, “you’d ought to have seen his jaw go down. He wriggled ’round in his chair, an’ looked ten diff’rent ways fer Sunday.
“ ‘What do you say?’ I says, lookin’ square at him, ‘ ’ll you make it a couple a hunderd?’
“ ‘Wa’al,’ he says, ‘I guess I couldn’t go ’s fur ’s that, an’ I wouldn’t like to head the list anyway.’
“ ‘All right,’ I says, ‘I’ll head it. Will you
