_ CHAPTER XIX. SENATOR LANGDON LEARNS THE TRUTH
When they were alone Haines faced the Senator and spoke determinedly.
"They told you I was not running straight," he said.
The Senator nodded, and the lines about his mouth deepened.
"Yes."
Bud Haines stiffened at the word. Every muscle in his body seemed to become rigid as he mentally vowed that he would retaliate against his traducers if it cost him his life to do it. Hope had informed him only too accurately, he now realized. Little did the Senator know that what he was now about to hear would give him one of the severest shocks of his life.
"They told me you weren't running straight," said Haines deliberately. "Now, neither one of us has been crooked, but somebody else has been, and this was the plan to keep us apart."
"Norton told me you were speculating in Altacoola lands," said Langdon.
"And Norton told me the same of you," retorted Bud.
The Senator's face grew very serious.
"But my daughter, Miss Carolina Langdon, confirmed Norton's story."
Haines here faced the most difficult part of his interview. He hardly knew how to answer. His manhood rebelled against placing any blame on a woman. He revolted at the thought of ruining a father's faith in his daughter's honesty, especially when that father was the man he most admired, a man for whom he had genuine, deep-rooted affection. But it was necessary that the words be spoken.
"I hate to tell you, sir," he said in a low, uncertain voice, "that it was your daughter Carolina who made me believe this story told about you and vouched for by your son Randolph."
Langdon started back aghast. He stared at Haines and knew that he spoke the truth. Then his white head sank pathetically. Tears welled into the eyes of the planter, and this sturdy old fighting man dropped weakly into a chair, sobbing convulsively, broken in spirit and wearied in body.
At length Haines spoke to his stricken chief.
"I know it hurts," he said. "It hurt me to have to say it. Don't believe it until you get it out of Norton, but then you must do something."
Langdon came to his feet, mopping his cheeks. But there was no weakness in him now. Yes, he would do something. He would go after the thieves that had turned his own flesh and blood against him and root them all out--show them all up.
"Oh, I'll do something," he said grimly. "I'm going to make up for lost time. Of course, Norton is speculating. Who's behind him?"
"Stevens and Peabody, I'm positive," answered Haines, "and behind them is Standard Steel."
"What!" exclaimed Langdon. "Stevens in a swindle like this! Are you sure? How do you know?"
"A Gulf City man who couldn't carry his liquor gave me some clues, and I worked Norton into telling some more," answered the secretary. "Where is Peabody?"
"He's here now."
"Then he hasn't got my letter yet. I sent him a note and signed your name, Senator, to the effect that the Gulf City claims have been brought before you so strongly that you might vote for Gulf City."
Langdon was amazed.
"You sent that note," he exclaimed, "when you know Altacoola is the only proper place and Gulf City is a mud bank?"
The newspaper man smiled.
"Of course," he agreed, "but I had to get a rise out of Peabody. This will show where he stands."
"Oh," said Langdon, "I understand. Thanks, boy."
A servant entered with a note.
"For Senator Peabody, sir, marked 'Urgent.' The messenger's been hunting him for some hours."
Langdon looked shrewdly at Bud, then turned to the servant.
"You keep that note until I ring for you, then bring it to Senator Peabody. Understand? No matter how urgent it's marked."
The man bowed.
"Yes, sir."
"Now tell Mr. Norton, Miss Langdon and Mr. Randolph to come here."
The Senator turned back to his secretary.
"I expect I'm going to be pretty busy the rest of the evening, Bud, so in case I forget to mention it again, remember to show up at your old desk in the morning."
"I will. Thank you, sir."
"You sent for us, Senator," said Norton, approaching with his two dupes.
"You are interested in Altacoola lands," the Senator angrily charged.
"I am, sir," he said.
"And you told Mr. Haines that I was interested in Altacoola lands?"
The schemer hesitated, and the Senator broke in on him in rage.
"Speak out, man! Tell the truth, if you can."
"I did," admitted the Congressman finally.
"Was there any particular reason for your not telling the truth?" demanded the Mississippian in threatening tone.
"I told the truth," replied Norton. "You are interested in them."
For an instant Langdon seemed about to step toward him, then he controlled himself.
"I didn't know it," he said.
"You have several things to learn, Senator," declared the Congressman.
"I have things to learn and things to teach," he said. "But go on. Why am I interested?"
"You are interested, Senator," replied the trickster, making his big play, "through your son, Randolph, who invested $50,000 of your money in Altacoola, and also through your daughter, Miss Carolina, who, acting on my advice, has put her own money--$25,000--in Altacoola land also."
For a moment Langdon was speechless. It was too much at first for the honest old Southerner to comprehend.
"You mean," he gasped at last, "that you induce a boy to put $50,000 in Altacoola land when you knew I had to vote on the bill? And you even let my daughter put her money in the same scheme?"
"Of course, I did. It was a splendid chance, and I let your son in for friendship and your daughter because she has done me the honor to promise to become my wife."
"What! You have my daughter's promise to marry you, you--"
"She admits it herself."
"Then I reckon here's where I lose a prospective son-in-law," sneered Langdon. "But that's unimportant. Now, Norton, who's behind you?"
"I must decline to answer that."
Langdon looked at him sternly.
"Very well," he said. "You are too small to count. I'll find out for myself. Now you go to my study and wait there until I send for you. I must be alone with my children."
When Norton and Haines had left them, Langdon turned sadly to the two children who had disgraced him.
"Can you understand?" he said. "Do you know what you've done to me?"
"What, father? We've done nothing wrong!" protested Carolina.
"They told me it was perfectly legitimate," urged Randolph. "They said everybody--Peabody and Stevens and the rest--were in it, and Peabody is the boss of the Senate."
"Yes, my boy," assented the old planter, "he's the leader in the Senate, and that's the shameful part of all this--that a man of his high standing should set you so miserable an example."
Randolph Langdon was not a vicious lad, not a youth who preferred or chose wrongdoing for the increased rewards it offered. He was at heart a chivalrous, straightforward, trustful Southern boy who believed in the splendid traditions of his family and loved his father as a son should a parent having the qualities of the old hero of Crawfordsville. Jealous of his honor, he had been a victim of Norton's wiles because of the Congressman's position and persuasiveness, because this companion of his young days had won his confidence and had not hesitated to distort the lad's idea of what was right and what was wrong.
Randolph began an indignant protest against his father's reproof when the Senator cut him short.
"Don't you see?" said the Senator. "I can understand there being rascals in the outside world and that they should believe your careless, foolish old father lawful game, but that he should be thought a tool for dishonest thieving by members of his own family is incomprehensible.
"Randolph, my son, Carolina, my daughter, through all their generations the Langdons have been honorable. Your mother was a Randolph, and this from you! Oh, Carolina! And you, Randolph! How could you? How could you betray or seek to betray your father, who sees in you the image of your dear mother, who has gone?" _