■;&'•. %A^' :l 
 
The Congressman 
 
 A Comedy in Three Acts 
 
 By 
 
 W. C. PARKER 
 
 Author of "-"-Artfor Breakfast^'' etc. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 1914 
 
P535Si 
 '1 't 
 
 Copyright 1914 by The Penn Publishing Company 
 
 The Congressman 
 
 ■^ NOV 20 1914 
 
 ©CI.0 ;j885;j 
 
The Congressman 
 
 CHARACTERS 
 
 NOTE. — The Characters are mentioned in the order in 
 which they first appear. 
 
 Gertrude Lawrence . wife of Congressman Lawrence 
 
 Henderson the Laivrence butler 
 
 Marjorie MacDonald . daughter of Graham Mac Donald 
 George Melville . secretary to Congressman Lawrence 
 Congressman Arthur Lawrence . . . representative 
 
 fro?n New York 
 Frank Landon Washington corre- 
 spondent of the ^^ Chronicle " 
 Genevieve McSorley . society reporter of the ''Argus " 
 
 Mrs. Peterson a neivspaper reporter 
 
 Frederick Flint a railroad lobbyist 
 
 Graham MacDonald . . Gertrude Lawrence' s brother 
 Jim Callahan a political ^^ boss ^^ 
 
 Time. — The present. 
 
 Place. — Act I, Washington. Acts II and III, New York. 
 
 Time of Playing. — About two hours. 
 
 NOTICE. — Amateurs are free to produce this play, 
 but the sole professional rights are reserved by the author, 
 who may be addressed in care of the publishers. 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 Gertrude. Twenty-seven. Act I, evening gown. Act 
 
 II, house gown. Act III, traveling costume. On second 
 appearance, remove coat, hat and gloves. 
 
 Henderson. Fifty. Butler's uniform throughout. 
 
 Marjorie. Nineteen. Act I, evening gown. Act II, 
 house gown. Act III, afternoon gown. 
 
 George. Twenty-one. Act I, evening dress. Acts II 
 and III, business suit. 
 
 Arthur. Thirty-two. Act I, evening dress. Act II, 
 business suit. Act III, afternoon dress. 
 
 Landon. Thirty. Act I, evening dress. Acts II and 
 
 III, business suit. 
 
 Genevieve. Twenty-five to thirty. Act I, extravagant 
 evening gown. Acts II and 111, flashy street costume. 
 
 Mrs. Peterson. Thirty or over. Plain black gown, re- 
 lieved with white lace. 
 
 Flint. Forty. Act I, evening dress. Act II, business 
 suit. Act III, afternoon dress. 
 
 Graham. Forty-five. Act 1, evening dress. Gray wig 
 and pince-nez. Act III, business suit. 
 
 Callahan. Thirty or over. Loud plaid suit. Cheap 
 silk hat, worn on one side of head continually. Fancy 
 waistcoat. Green tie. Tan gloves. Large cheap cane. 
 Chews large cigar. 
 
 PROPERTIES 
 
 Act I. — Pads of paper and pencils for Mrs. Peterson and 
 Landon. Table bell. Bundle of papers for George. 
 
 Act II. — Writing materials on desk. Two large scrap 
 books. Telephone on desk r. Lump of ore ; this should 
 be about the size of a man's fist, and may be prepared by 
 coating a stone very lightly with dull gold paint, leaving 
 some places untouched. 
 
 Act III. — Traveling bag for Gertrude. Letters, telegram 
 blanks, etc., on desk. Tray and card for Henderson. 
 Newspaper. 
 
 4 
 
SCENE PLOTS 
 ACT I 
 
 Interior backing 
 
 Scene I. — Handsomely furnished room in Congressoian 
 Lawrence's Washington house. 
 
 ACTS II AND III 
 
 Interior backing 
 
 Door 
 
 //' 
 
 -_ Chair 
 
 CyChair 
 
 Door 
 
 /Desk 
 
 Scene II. — Library in Congressman Lawrence's New 
 York house. 
 
The Congressman 
 
 ACT I 
 
 SCENE. — Interior backings fourth grooves. Handsomely 
 furnished room boxed in third grooves. Doors ^ C, R. 
 and L. Table, C. Leather chairs, couches, bric-d-brac, 
 etc., to dress stage. Lively music till curtain up. 
 
 (^Discovered, Gertrude Lawrence, c. She ritigs table 
 bell. Enter Henderson, c.) 
 
 Gertrude. Is everything in readiness for the reception, 
 Henderson ? 
 
 Henderson. It is, madam. I have just made the rounds 
 and every arrangement seems perfect. 
 
 Gertrude. Very well ; and Mr. Lawrence ? 
 
 Henderson. Will be down directly. Anything else, 
 madam? 
 
 Gertrude. No, except that I want you to do all in 
 your power to help make this ball the most brilliant that 
 Washington has ever seen. I rely upon you, Henderson. 
 
 Henderson. Thank you, madam. I shall do my very 
 best. (^Bows arid exit, c.) 
 
 {Enter Marjorie MacDonald, l., leading George Mel- 
 ville.) 
 
 Marjorie. Oh, auntie ! Look who's here ! 
 
 {Swings George around in front of Gertrude.) 
 
 George. Yes ; you'll keep on throwing me around until 
 you'll break me, and then perhaps you'll be sorry. 
 
 Marjorie. That would be making an awful break — 
 wouldn't it? 
 
 Gertrude {reprovingly). Marjie ! 
 
 7 
 
8 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 George {to Marjokie). Better behave yourself, or Mrs. 
 Lawrence will be sending you home. 
 
 Marjorie {to George). Sir ! You forget that I am to 
 be the supreme novelty of a noted congressman's reception 
 to-night, and sending me away might cause international 
 complications ! 
 
 Gertrude. What on earth are you talking about? 
 
 Marjorie. Why, you know very well that 1 am about 
 to make my debut to-night, and how can there be a debut 
 without a debutante ? 
 
 George {laughing). Well, of course that is important. 
 
 (Marjorie starts toward George /;/ a threate?iijig maimer. 
 He dodges r. She follows.') 
 
 {Enter Congressman Arthur Lawrence, c.) 
 
 Marjorie {running to Arthur). Oh, Uncle Arthur, 
 I'm so glad to see you ! {Hugs and kisses Arthur.) 
 You're just in time to protect me from this {surveyinsj 
 George eontemptuously) graven image of a human being ! 
 Look out 1 Don't touch him ! He might fall to pieces ! 
 He's only a glass imitation ! 
 
 George {to Marjorie, /// a heroic manner). Beware ! 
 Woman ! Glass can cut. 
 
 Marjorie. I'll cut you to-night, all right. I'm going 
 to dance with a real live ambassador ! 
 
 George. My ! What a sharp retort ! 
 
 Arthur {laughing). Might as well give it up, George. 
 Never try to measure wits with a woman. You'll get the 
 worst of it every time. 
 
 Marjorie. You just bet he will. 
 
 {Deliberately turns her back to George and comes down, R.) 
 
 Arthur. Well, Marjorie, how do you like our new 
 home? {Comes down, v..) 
 
 Marjorie. It is simply gorgeous ! 
 
 Arthur. I'm glad you think so. 
 
 Marjorie. Oh, I nearly forgot — papa went over to the 
 club to look for you. 
 
 Arthur. Too bad I missed him. How is ne ? 
 
 Gertrude (c). He seemed worried to death; he's so 
 anxious for you to take up his law case. 
 
 Arthur. I'll try to talk it over with him to-night. 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 9 
 
 Marjorie. I do hope you will. Then maybe we'll have 
 some peace in the family. 
 
 (George comes down, l., and looks over paper he takes 
 from pocket.') 
 
 Arthur. Too bad that my s[)are time is so limited. I 
 certainly owe something more than mere talk to your {to 
 Gertrude) only brother. 
 
 Makjorie. Oh, I'm in such a hurry for the proceedings 
 to commence ! Just like Uncle Art, when he's waiting to 
 make a speech in Congress. 
 
 {All laugh.-) 
 
 George {to Arthur). I've prepared a list of the guests 
 for the newspaper people and arranged a supper for them in 
 the conservatory. 
 
 Makjorie. Is the Speaker of the House really coming? 
 
 Gertrude. I. believe so. 
 
 Makjorie. If he speaks to me, I'll be too scared to 
 answer. 
 
 Gertrude. I'm only afraid you'll talk too much. 
 
 Arthur. If she does, we'll send her to bed. {To 
 George.) By the way, who is going to take her in to 
 supper ? 
 
 George. Mr. Flint. 
 
 Marjorie. What! that old mummy ? 
 
 Arthur {laughing). Why did you put her with him ? 
 
 Marjorie. Probably because he thought I'd be out of 
 danger. And I had my cap set for the Ambassador. 
 
 Arthur {jokingly). Well, don't you dare to flirt with 
 Flint. He's really dangerous. 
 
 Marjorie. The newspapers do say awful things about 
 him. 
 
 Arthur. So they do of everybody. They say awful 
 things about me. 
 
 Marjorie. Then they tell great big lies. 
 
 {Embraces Arthur.) 
 
 Gertrude. Marjie ! You'll get your gown all mussed ! 
 Arthur {looking knowingly at George). Won't she be 
 a terrible little boss when she gets married ? 
 Marjorie. I'm going to be just like auntie. 
 George. Then you'll have to change mighty quick. 
 
10 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 {Enter Henderson, c.) 
 
 Henderson. The guests are arriving, sir. 
 
 (^ExeufU, c, all but Henderson, laughing and chatting. 
 Orchestra heard off stage. ) 
 
 {Enter Frank Landon, l., followed by Genevieve Mc- 
 SoRLEY and Mrs. Peterson.) 
 
 Landon {to Henderson). One moment, please. (Hen- 
 derson returning, bows,') Will you kindly direct us to the 
 place reserved for reporters ? 
 
 Henderson {pointing to door, r.). That is the room, 
 sir. 
 
 {Exit, c.) 
 
 Genevieve {looking out door, r.). Why, there is a 
 supper table in there ! 
 
 Landon. Quite naturally. You certainly did not ex- 
 pect Congressman Lawrence to neglect to provide food for 
 the press? 
 
 Genevieve. Well, what do you know about that? I 
 suppose they think we are not good enough to associate with 
 the guests ? 
 
 MkS. P. Why, you'll get just as good a supper as they 
 will. 
 
 Genevieve. Well, if I had known we were going to be 
 shnved off into a side room like that, 1 shouldn't have come. 
 I didn't come as a reporter, anyway. 
 
 Landon {laughing). How did you come? 
 
 Genevieve. Well, I won't stand it to be treated like a 
 servant ! I shall complain to Congressman Lawrence ! 
 
 Landon. Oh, let him alone. He's got enough on his 
 mind. 
 
 Genevieve. Yes, I dare say the railroads require pretty 
 much of his attention right now. 
 
 Landon. You certainly don't believe that fairy tale? 
 
 Genevieve {in a superior manner). Don't 1 ? J get 
 around some in the course of a day. 
 
 Landon. They can't prove anything. 
 
 Genevieve. Oh, well, of course 1 never actually saw a 
 railroad step up and hand him money, but 
 
 Landon. Well ? 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN I I 
 
 Genevieve. Well, I Oh, pshaw ! What's the use? 
 
 We won't have a chance to see anything. 
 
 Landon. Oh, well, you can go in after the guests have 
 finished. 
 
 Mrs. p. I must see the dresses, anyway. 
 
 Genevieve. I've a good notion to fake my stuff. 
 
 Mrs. p. Don't. Your managing editor will find it out 
 sure as shooting. 
 
 Genevieve. Pooh ! What do editors know about gowns ? 
 The more you fake in this business the better you are liked. 
 
 {Exit^ R.) 
 
 {^Burst of music and laughter heard, off c.) 
 
 Landon. Well, we'll have to get busy if we are going to 
 get this stuff to press by midnight, 
 
 Mrs. p. Pve never done a society affair before. I 
 hardly know how to commence. 
 
 Landon. Let's get out of the way, and I'll help you 
 with your copy. 
 
 {Exit, R,, after Mrs. P.) 
 
 (^Enter Marjorie and Frederick Flint, c.) 
 
 Flint. So this is your first affair? 
 
 Marjorie. Yes. Of course I'm terribly frightened. 
 
 Flint. At what ? 
 
 {They come down c.) 
 
 Marjorie. Oh, all those wonderful men with their 
 queer wives. Why is it that most great men marry such 
 peculiar women ? 
 
 Flint. Better be careful. You might be overheard. 
 
 Marjorie. I'm not very diplomatic, am I ? 
 
 Flint. Oh, you'll learn. Diplomacy comes with age. 
 It's only the very young who can afford to be perfectly 
 frank. 
 
 Marjorie. Uncle Art must be luckier than most states- 
 men. Don't you think auntie is perfectly lovely ? 
 
 Flint. Yes. She is perfectly lovely. 
 
 Marjorie. If I were a man, I should fall head over 
 heels in love with her. 
 
12 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Flint. And then what would happen ? 
 
 Mat^jokie. Why, I'd marry her, of course. 
 
 Flint. And pray what would beconcie of Mr. Lawrence? 
 
 Makjorie. Uncle Art ? Oh, I'd have fallen in love 
 long before he came along. 
 
 Flint. But suppose you had fallen in love with her 
 after he came along ? 
 
 Makjorie. I don't like to suppose unpleasant things. 
 Anyway, there's only one man in the world good enough 
 for lier. 
 
 Flint. And that is 
 
 Marjorie. The man she married, of course. (Flint 
 smi/es. Marjorie looks off, c.) Oh ! There's Georgie 
 dancing with that horrid blonde ! Excuse me, please. I 
 forgot to tell him something, and it's dreadfully important ! 
 
 (^Exit, c. Flint ^<?<?5 up, r., to look after her. Is met 
 by Genevieve, who enters, r.) 
 
 Genevieve. Why, how do you do, Mr. Flint ? 
 
 (Shakes hands with him.') 
 
 Flint. Well ! This is a surprise ! Hunting alone, are 
 you? 
 
 Genevieve. Oh, there are some other newspaper peo- 
 ple here. We are tucked off in a side room by ourselves. I 
 suppose they thought we might contaminate tlie other guests. 
 
 Flint. Must have been some mistake. Mrs. Lawrence 
 will be very sorry when she hears about it. Have you been 
 through the rooms ? 
 
 Genevieve. No. I haven't been anywhere. 
 
 Flint. Then let me escort you to the drawing-room. 
 Mrs. Lawrence is 
 
 Genevieve. She's always sure to be near where you are, 
 Mr. Flint. I feel as if I had no right to appropriate you. 
 
 Flint {confused). I certainly do admire Mrs. Law- 
 rence, but that doesn't deter me {looking intently at Gene- 
 vieve) from admiring others. 
 
 Genevieve. Oh, if you're going to pay compliments, I 
 shall certainly have to stick to you. 
 
 {Takes Flint's ar7n and grandly swishes out, c, with him.) 
 
 (^Enter Mrs. P. afid Landon, r.) 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN I 3 
 
 Landon (^perceiving Genevieve ajid Flint). That 
 young woman will get on in the world, all right. If she 
 keeps her present nerve, she'll become a notorious lobbyist, 
 with a half-million in the bank in a few years. 
 
 Mrs. p. There's certainly nothing slow about her. 
 
 incomes down, r.) 
 {Enter Arthur, l.) 
 
 Landon. Good-evening, Congressman. 
 
 Arthur (shaking hands with Landon). Oh, hello, 
 Landon. I'm mighty glad you're here ! (Perceives Mrs. P.) 
 Why ! Bless my soul ! Mrs. Peterson I I'm delighted to 
 see you ! ( Comes dow7i, l., and shakes hands with Mrs. P.) 
 
 Mus. P. Thank you, sir. 
 
 Landon {coming down, R.). Great night for you, 
 Congressman, 
 
 Arthur. For Mrs. Lawrence, you mean. This is her 
 blow-out. 
 
 Mks. p. She is looking beautiful to-night, Mr. Law- 
 rence. 
 
 Arthur. My dear lady, between you and me, she's the 
 prettiest woman in Washington. But you mustn't put that 
 in the paper. 
 
 Mrs. p. I won't, but it's true, just the same. 
 
 Arthur. But why are you people sticking in here? 
 Why don't you circulate around ? 
 
 Landon. We've been preparing our copy, but we 
 haven't the all-important information about the dresses yet. 
 
 (^Enter Marjorie, door c, followed by George.) 
 
 Marjorie {stopping in surprise). Oh ! I didn't know 
 any one was here. 
 
 Arthur. You're just the person we're looking for. {To 
 Mrs. p.) Mrs. Peterson, this is Marjorie MacDonald, my 
 wife's niece. (Marjorie comes doivn c.) She'll take you 
 through the rooms. She knows all about handsome gowns. 
 It's all she thinks about. 
 
 (George shakes hands 7vith and appears to converse aside 
 with Landon, at l.) 
 
 Marjorie {to Mrs. P.). Oh, I must show you Mrs. 
 Senator Drew's gown before she leaves. It's simply gor- 
 
14 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 geous ! (^Grasps George's arm and prese?tts him to 
 Mks. p.) This is Mr. Melville— Mr. George Melville. 
 He's a very imporiant young man. He's my uncle's sec- 
 retary. Think of that ! (^To George.) You may come, 
 too, infant ! You need to learn something about gowns. 
 
 (^Takes Mrs. P.'s arm and goes up, r.) 
 
 Landon. I'll rely on you, Mrs. Peterson. 
 
 Marjorie. We'll be in the conservatory in twenty min- 
 utes with yards of description. Oh, this is rich ! I always 
 did want to be a newspaper woman. 
 
 {Exit, c., artn in arm with Mrs. V., followed l^yGKORO'E.) 
 
 Landon {to Arthur). This is a good chance forme to 
 ask you something, sir. 
 
 Arthur. All right. Fire away. 
 
 Landon. What I am going to ask may seem somewhat 
 like a violation of hospitality. 
 
 Arthur. My dear fellow, there's no such thing as a 
 violation of hospitality in the case of a man in public life. 
 
 Landon. Well, it's simply this: — We want to deny the 
 story about you that is going all over Washington. I hap- 
 pen to know of at least three papers that have it and con- 
 template using it. 
 
 Arthur. What story? 
 
 Landon. Why, that you are in on the Consolidation 
 railroad deal. 
 
 Arthur. Oh, that? {Lai/ghs.) Why, they've been 
 saying that about me for over five years — ever since I en- 
 tered Congress. In fact, there has hardly been a big po- 
 litical steal that I haven't been accused of being in. 
 
 Landon. But, Congressman, this newspaper syndicate 
 is i)retty strong. 
 
 Arthur. I don't care a snap of my finger for them. 
 
 Landon {disappointed). Then you won't permit me 
 to deny the story for you? 
 
 Arthur {evasively). Landon, I know you mean all 
 right, and I know you'd like to do me a good turn. Your 
 paper has been a mighty good friend to me. You stood by 
 me when I had almost no other friend on the independent 
 press ; in fact, no friends. 
 
 Landon. But, if you'll only let us show that there is 
 nothing in the story 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN I5 
 
 Arthur. No, not one word ! I discovered, before I'd 
 been in public life three months, it was simply a waste of 
 time to deny campaign stories. When a man goes into 
 politics, he makes himself tlie target of all the blackguards 
 in the country. 
 
 Landon. But, Congressman, just a word from you 
 would be enough. 
 
 Arthur. No. I'm an older man than you, Landon, 
 and 1 know what I'm talking about. I care so little about 
 this particular story, that 1 made a pomt of getting Frede- 
 rick Flint to come here to-night. He's the man, you know, 
 who's supposed to be at the bottom of that railroad scandal. 
 
 Landon. There's not another man in your position 
 who'd dare to take the bull by the horns like that. 
 
 Arthur. I can assure you, it's the only way of treating 
 the '' bull." 
 
 Landon. I'm glad to have had this little talk with you, 
 Congressman. (^Exteiids his hand?) 
 
 Arthur {taking Landon's hand). Look in on me at 
 the House to-morrow \ I may have something for you. 
 
 {Goes np, c.) 
 
 Landon. Thank you, sir, I will. 
 
 (^Exit, R. Arthur looks after him a moment, then comes 
 doiv?i and sits on sofa, L., ivith a gesture of weariness, al- 
 most despair. ) 
 
 {Enter Flint, c. He comes down.) 
 
 Flint, Oh, here you are ! I've been trying all the 
 evening to get a chance to speak to you. {Notices 
 Arthur's languid man?ier.) Anything the matter? 
 
 Arthur. Yes. I've just been having a heart-to-heart 
 talk with Landon, the correspondent. He says the news- 
 papers are getting ready to jump on me. 
 
 Flint. About what ? {Sits, -r. c.) 
 
 Arthur. About our precious railroad business, of 
 course. 
 
 Flint. They can't hurt you. 
 
 Arthur. I'm not so sure. Some of those papers in ihe 
 syndicate have great inflnence with the masses. They're 
 not like the small fry that have been knifing me lately. 
 
 Flint. But, my dear fellow, what can they say ? 
 
l6 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Akthur. They can say what all Washington is saying. 
 'Ihey can say that I've taken money to push that bill through 
 the House. 'I'hey can queer my reelection. 
 
 Flint. Taking money? That's a very disagreeable ex- 
 pression. It isn't professional. But, anyhow, why shouldn't 
 you? 
 
 Arthur. Why shouldn't I what ? 
 
 Flint. Why shouldn't you take money for the work 
 you've done? You have earned it, haven't you? 
 
 Arthur {rising). Then why should 1 lie about it every 
 time the subject is mentioned? Why should 1 try to bam- 
 boozle that decent young correspondent? He believes in 
 me. He respects me as an honest man, a statesman and a 
 patriot. He fancies that 1 think of nothing — work for noth- 
 ing, and care for nothing but the welfare of the people who 
 elected me. 
 
 Flint {cynically'). He must be an awful ass. 
 
 Arthur. Yes? Say, Flint, have you ever believed in 
 any one in your life? 
 
 Flint. Oh, yes — in you, for example. I believed in you 
 the first time I saw you. 1 knew that you were bound to 
 rise. 
 
 Arthur. And that was why you helped me? 
 
 Flint. Certainly. 
 
 Arthur. You knew that some time I'd be useful to 
 you? 
 
 Flint. You're brutal now, Lawrence. 
 
 Arthur. Perhaps I am. 
 
 Flint. I am surprised that you should refer in that way 
 to any service, however slight. 
 
 Arthur. But you must admit that the payment has been 
 rather hard. 
 
 Flint. Most people wouldn't think so. When you came 
 to me, five years ago, you were on the verge of bankruptcy, 
 and you hadn't even begun to make a reputation — and now 
 see what you are ! You've made a big name ! You're a 
 power ! You have all the swells in Washington at your re- 
 ce[)tions ! If you had gone under, five years ago, you never 
 could have retrieved yourself. You know that as well as 
 I do. 
 
 Arthur. And how much satisfaction do you suppose my 
 success has given me? Since I began to prosper here, I 
 haven't had one really happy moment. 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN I7 
 
 Flint {expostulating'). Tut, tut ! 
 
 Arthur. You don't believe that? 
 
 Flint. Of course 1 don't. You've got a fit of the blues, 
 that's all. That reporter fellow has hurt your feelings. 
 That's your only fault, Lawrence, — you're too sensitive. 
 You want to have everybody's good opinion. 
 
 Arthur. If 1 only had my own. 
 
 Flint. Nonsense ! By helping to put that bill through 
 the House, you're doing the country a thousand times more 
 good than you ever accomplished through those reform 
 schemes of yours. You're not practical enough, Lawrence. 
 Solid facts are good enough for me. 
 
 Arthur {sarcastically). I've observed that. 
 
 Flint. But I'll tell you what you can do, since that 
 conscience of yours is bothering you so much — why don't 
 you vote against the bill? 
 
 Arthur. How vote against it? 
 
 Flint. Simply vote. 
 
 Arthur. After all the hard work I've done for it? 
 
 Flint. Who's to know about that? If you like, you 
 can get up in the House and explain why you've changed 
 your mind. 
 
 Arthur. Speak against it, too? 
 
 Flint. Why not? That will turn the tables on the pa- 
 pers that have been attacking you. It will make you seem 
 like a martyr, too. It'll be worth thousands of votes to you. 
 
 Arthur. No, thank you. I may have done peculiar 
 things in my time, but I certainly couldn't permit myself to 
 degenerate into a sniveling hvpocrite ! 
 
 Flint. It's a game that Drew has worked over and over 
 again in the Senate. It doesn't seem to hurt him. He's 
 one of the most popular men in the country — and the big- 
 gest fraud. {LaugJis.) 
 
 Arthur {suddetily confronting Flint). Flint ! 
 
 Flint {surprised). Well? 
 
 Arthur. I want to come to an understanding with you. 
 
 Flint. I thought 5'ou did that years ago. 
 
 Arthur. I'll stand by you in this railroad business until 
 this bill goes through. I'll vote for it — because I've 
 pledged myself to do so, and I'll accept the consequences, 
 likt^ a man ! 
 
 Flint. Oh ! I thought you were a little nervous about 
 your election, that's all. 
 
l8 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Arthur. I have lied so constantly, I suppose I can go 
 on lying until the deal goes through. But, reiiiember one 
 thing ! It's the last official work you need expect me to do 
 for you. Officially, Flint, we're quits. In the future, I 
 proi)ose to keep my hands free and unsullied. 
 
 Flint. My dear fellow (^placi?i^ hafid 07i Arthur's 
 shoulder), you've been a brick. Stand by me till the bill 
 goes through. That's all we expect — only don't try to be 
 loo ideal. Ideals are very pretty, but if the government 
 were run by ideals, it wouldn't last six months. Legislation 
 is a business, and the shrewdest men are going to get the 
 biggest returns. Just think of all the men who have been 
 sent back home from Washington simply because they've 
 been overzealous ! But this won't do — we'll be missed from 
 the ballroom, and that will arouse suspicion. I'll see you 
 to-morrow in the cloak-room. Meanwhile, do take some 
 rest. You've been working too hard, and it's got on your 
 nerves. 
 
 (^Exit, smiling, c.) 
 
 Arthur. " Sent back home for being overzealous " ? I 
 wonder if that sentiment veils a threat? 
 
 {E?iter Marjorie, c.) 
 
 Marjorie. Say ! Are you aware that some of your 
 guests are looking for you ? 
 
 (^Enter George, c.) 
 
 George {to Arthur). The Speaker of the House is 
 moping in the drawing-room, sir. He looks as if he wanted 
 to eat somebody's head off. 
 
 Arthur {smiling). He's longing for his shirt-sleeves 
 and a long, black cigar. I must look him up and jolly him 
 along a bit. 
 
 {^Exit, c.) 
 
 {Dance music heard, off c.) 
 
 Marjorie. Just listen to that music, will you ? {Strikes 
 an attitude for dancing.) Want to try? 
 George. Sure ! 
 
 {Dances with Marjorie, hut clumsily brushes against the 
 furniture.) 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN I9 
 
 Marjorie {pushing George from her). Gracious ! 
 You haveu't improved a bit ! See ! Stupid ! How easy it 
 is when you've learned to be nimble on your feet. 
 
 {Does a solo dance — keeping time to the music.) 
 {Enter Graham MacDonald, c.) 
 
 Graham. Marjorie ! What on earth are you doing ? 
 
 Makjorie {stopping siidde7ily doivn l., considerably out 
 of breath). Oh! Is that you, dad? I'm just practicing 
 " being in society." How do you like it? {To George.) 
 Oh, you haven't been introduced to dad, have you? {To 
 Gkaham.) Well, this is *Mt," dad— Mr. Melville— Mr. 
 George Melville. 
 
 Graham {shaking hands with George, down r.). How 
 do you do, sir? 
 
 Marjorie. Mr. Melville is the young man I've been 
 writing you about — the one that's been so attentive to me 
 this winter. Here ! Come and let me fix that tie of yours. 
 It's flirting with your ear. {Arranges Graham's tie and pats 
 him on the back.) There ! That is better. Now they'd 
 never suspect that you came from the country. 
 
 Graham (/(:7 George). You mustn't mind her. We just 
 let her talk to keep her out of worse mischief. 
 
 Marjorie {to George). Well, you have been paying me 
 attentions, haven't you, George? 
 
 George {laughing). Oh, yes — I've been giving Miss 
 Marjorie all my spare time. 
 
 Graham. Too bad you couldn't find better use for it. 
 {To Marjorie.) Well, sis, I'm going to turn in. I've had 
 enough of this rabble. I suppose you're going to stay up 
 till the *' last dog is hung " ? 
 
 Marjorie. Of course I shall. How could they get 
 along without me? 
 
 Graham. Well, don't stay up too late. As for me, I 
 simply can't stand it any longer. I've rubbed up against 
 politicians enough to make me hate my country. To hear 
 'em talk, you'd think the Government had been invented 
 just to support their families. It's every man for himself 
 and the ''old Nick" for 'em all. 
 
 George. There certainly is a lot of wire-pulling going 
 on here. 
 
 Graham. Wire-pulling ? That is putting it altogether 
 
20 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 too mildly. Why, there was a fellow in the other room that 
 mistook me for the Secretary of Slate, and buttonholed n\e. 
 He wants to be Minister to Egypt ! Minister to Egypt ! 
 Why, I wouldn't give him a job as errand boy in my fac- 
 tory ! 
 
 Mapjorie {huo^gin^ Graham). Poor old dad ! He 
 has such a hard time whenever he comes to Washington. 
 Don't you, dad ? 
 
 Graham. Every fellow I talk to wants me to use my 
 influence for a job of some sort. Talk about politicians 
 serving the country ! If 1 had the power, I'd put the whole 
 gang in the lock-up ! 
 
 Marjorie. My ! but you're cross to-night, dad. You'd 
 better go on to bed. Think how I feel, having you talk 
 like that before this rising young politician. 
 
 Graham {to George). Well, sir, if you intend to 
 make a politician of yourself, I'm mighty sorry for you. 
 
 Marjorie {to Graham). You'd better go and get 
 your ** beauty sleep." First thing you know, you'll be say- 
 ing something you'll be sorry for. 
 
 Graham. Huh ! I never was sorry yet for expressing 
 my honest opinion. {To George.) Good-night, sir. 
 
 George. Good-night, sir. 
 
 Graham {to Marjorie). Good-night, sis. 
 
 {Kisses Marjorie, and exit, c.) 
 
 Marjorie. Isn't he the dandy dad? Oh, you needn't 
 be afraid of him. I can just wind him around my finger — 
 except — oh, I know when to let him alone. Sometimes he's 
 dangerous ! {Looks off, c.) Oh ! here comes auntie and 
 that horrid Mr. Flint, What do you suppose would hap- 
 pen if Mr. Flint lost his everlasting smile? Do you think 
 there would be anything left ? 
 
 {Enter Gertrude and Flint, c.) 
 
 Gertrude, Well, Marjie, enjoying yourself? 
 
 {Sits, L., and fans herself as if overheated from dancing.') ^ 
 
 Marjorie. I should say I was ! I'm having the time 
 of my life ! 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 21 
 
 Flint. I trust we aren't interrupting a tete-a-tete. 
 
 George {carelessly). Oh, no, not at all. 
 
 Marjorie {to George). Let's go to the ballroom. I'll 
 bet there are three men looking for me right now. 
 
 George {to Gertrude). Can I do anything for you, 
 Mrs. Lawrence ? 
 
 Gertrude. Just have a good time, that's all. 
 
 Marjorie. Georgie's always trying to earn his salary. 
 I never knew any one who worried so much about it. 
 
 {Takes his ar^n and runs hifn off, c.) 
 
 Flint {sitting on sofa by Gertrude). He's an excep- 
 tion here in Washington, then, isn't he? 
 
 Gertrude. He's a good, conscientious boy. I some- 
 times wonder if this Washington life won't harm him, 
 
 Flint. There is so much wickedness here, do you mean ? 
 
 Gertrude. Well — wasting of time. 
 
 Flint. Don't you think you are — well, just a little too 
 scrupulous? 
 
 Gertrude. That is what Mr. Lawrence is always saying. 
 You aren't going to blame me, too, are- you? 
 
 Flint. 1 should be the last man in the world to blame 
 you for anything, Mrs. Lawrence. 1 admire you too much 
 as you are. 
 
 Gertrude {curiously'). Aren't we complimentary to- 
 night I Do you often make pretty little speeches like that? 
 
 Flint. No. I'm not much of a hand at paying com- 
 pliments. {Pauses deliberately.) Besides, it would be very 
 hard to pay compliments to a woman like you. Do you 
 know why? Because you are one of the few women I've 
 met whom I really respect. I pay you the compliment of 
 telling you nothing but the truth. 
 
 Gertrude {nervously). I believe that is the best com- 
 pliment any woman could expect. 
 
 Flint. But there are some things I have never quite 
 dared to tell you. I've never dared, because — well, perhaps 
 they would be too interesting. There are some things, you 
 know, that it is extremely difficult for a man to explain to a 
 woman — especially to a woman like you. 
 
 Gertrude {suspiciously). They are usually things better 
 left unsaid, are they not? 
 
 Flint. Perhaps. But sometimes it is almost as hard 
 
22 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 not to say them. It isn't always necessary to put them into 
 words, you know. They say themselves in a thousand 
 ways — in a look, a tone of the voice, in the lightest touch 
 of the hand. 
 
 Gertrude {feigning amusement'). You are in a very 
 sentimental mood to-night, aren't you, Mr. Flint ? {Laughs.) 
 1 really am prepared to receive all kinds of confidences. 
 
 Flint. 1 was going to tell you something — 1 think 1 will 
 tell you. I — I'm in love. 
 
 Gertrude {amused). Well ! This is news. 
 
 Flint. I'm in love with the most fascinating woman in 
 Washington. 
 
 Gertrude (JaugJiing). We all know who that is. But 
 aren't you afraid of the Senator ? They say he's a wonderful 
 shot. 
 
 Flint. You are poking fun at me now, aren't you ? 
 
 Gertrude. It is very hard to take you seriously some- 
 times, Mr. Flint. 
 
 Flint. I suppose you mean to infer that you aren't quite 
 able to make me out ? 
 
 Gertrude. Possibly. Though I must confess that I 
 haven't tried very hard. 
 
 Flint. Can it be that you don't understand me? 
 
 Gertrude (jineasiiy). I really think I should return to 
 the drawing-room. You must tell me these things some 
 other time. {Rises.) 
 
 Flint {rising and detaining her). Just a moment more. 
 (Gertrude sits.) I may not have another chance to see 
 you alone to-night. There is something 1 must say to you 
 now. 
 
 Gertrude {surprised). Now ? 
 
 Flint. I must tell you what it means to me to be near you. 
 
 {Approaches her.) 
 
 Gertrude {rising). I don't understand you. 
 Fjjnt. Do you mean to say that you haven't understood 
 all along how I felt toward you? 
 
 {Places his hand on her arm.) 
 
 Gertrude. Kindly remove your hand from my arm. 
 Flint {persiste?itiy retaining his position). Why don't 
 you answer ? 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 23 
 
 Gertrude {withdrawing her arm). Because, as I have 
 tol<l you before, there are some things that are better left 
 unspoken. 
 
 Flint. Then you have known ? 
 
 Gertrude. I have suspected. 
 
 Flint. Then why have you permitted me to come here? 
 
 Gertrude [with dignity). Because I thought you would 
 never dare to speak to me as you have done, and, if you 
 continue in the same strain, I shall call my husband. Before 
 that becomes necessary, I must ask you to leave. 
 
 Flint. Thank you, but I prefer to stay. (Gertrude 
 goes to table, c. , and starts to ring bell. Flint rises ; with 
 authority.) Don't touch that bell ! Now, you won't call 
 the servants, and you won't tell your husband anything 
 about this conversation. In the first place, your servants 
 are really my servants ! 
 
 Gertrude. What ! 
 
 Flint. They are paid with my money. 
 
 Gertrude. How contemptible of you ! 
 
 Flint. Well, perhaps. It all depends on the point of 
 view. You don't consider your husband contemptible, and 
 yet lie is worse than I am. I don't pretend to be any better 
 than 1 am. 
 
 Gertrude. I'll permit you to say these things to his 
 face. [Starts up c. ) 
 
 Flint (^standing betiveen her and door, c). If you make 
 a scene here, Mrs. Lawrence, you'll simply disgrace your- 
 self and you'll ruin your husband. He has been in my pay 
 ever since he came to Washington. 
 
 Gertrude. In your pay ! 
 
 Flint. Oh, there are prettier ways to say it, but that's 
 what it comes to. Why, this one reception to-night has 
 cost more than half his legitimate yearly salary. All the 
 stories circulating about him are true — only they're not half 
 as bad as I could tell. If the whole truth were known he'd 
 be branded as a thief. 
 
 Gertrude. Sir, I will not 
 
 Flint {vehemently'). I tell you — a thief, and a hypo- 
 crite. But for me he'd be a petty country lawyer in the 
 backwoods. I gave him his chance. I've made him what 
 he is. I've favored him more than any one else for your 
 sake, because I loved you. He must have known that, and 
 he must have been playing on the knowledge. 
 
24 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Gertrude. No, no ! It's not true ! 
 
 {Nearly fainting, and clinging to back of chair to keep from 
 falling.) 
 
 Flint {with mock politeness). Now, shall I ring for 
 your husband ? 
 
 QUICK CURTAIN 
 
ACT II 
 
 SCENE. — Interior backing, fourth grooves. Handsome 
 interior, boxed in third grooves. Doors, up c. and at l. 
 Large library table, C, strewn with books, maoazines 
 and papers. Desk, up R., with writing ??iaterials, two 
 large scrap-books, telephone, and desk chair. Chair, at 
 table, c, facing audience. Lump of ore on table. Chairs, 
 K. and L., and if possible a general '■^ mission''^ ^ff^ct, to 
 differ from Act I. Folding screefi, up l. 
 
 {Discovered, George, at desk, r., ivriting, with tivo large 
 scrap-books in frotit of him, as if 7naking excerpts from 
 them. Enter Marjorie, l.) 
 
 Marjorie. Good -morning, Mr. Secretary. 
 
 George. Good-morning, Marjorie. I — I hope you're 
 well this morning. {Continues writing.') 
 
 Marjorie. My ! But we are effusive this morning ! 
 Aren't you afraid it'll hurt you to be so glad to see me? 
 
 George {writing). I am very glad to see you, but with 
 this fight on for the renominalion — you see 
 
 Marjorie. But I don't see. 
 
 George. Mr. Lawrence is waiting for these notes — he's 
 up to his neck — and — you know — well, I'm his secretary 
 
 Marjorie. You've told me that same thing every day 
 since we came here from Washington. According to you, 
 Uncle Arthur won't have any neck left if he keeps on ! 
 That's all you can say {imitating George), *' Mr. Lawrence 
 is up to his neck and I'm his secretary." You certainly 
 have a very limited vocabulary. 
 
 George. A man doesn't need to know as many words 
 as a woman. 
 
 Marjorie. AVell, I guess I'll go where my conversation 
 will be appreciated. At any rate I'll go where people aren't 
 afraid to smile once in a while. So there, now ! 
 
 {Exit, L.) 
 
 George {rising, book in hand, callifig after her). Mar- 
 jorie 1 
 
 \ 
 
26 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 (^Angrily throws scrap-book on floor, the?i stoops to pick 
 it up.) 
 
 (^Enter Gertrude, r. c.) 
 
 Gertrude. Good- morning, George. 
 
 George {pickino^ up book). Good-morning, Mrs. Law- 
 rence. (^Writes furiously.) 
 
 Gertrude. You seem to be busy this morning. 
 
 George {confused). Yes, ma'am. I'm making notes 
 Mr. Lawrence wants sent over to Chairman Green at the 
 convention. He's waiting for them. 
 
 Gertrude {curiously). What are those books? 
 
 George. One contains Mr. Lawrence's speeches — the 
 other the newspaper cHppings. 
 
 Gertrude. Ah ! 
 
 George {looking at watch). Whew ! It's after ten 
 already. 
 
 Gertrude. Don't let me detain you. Will you hand 
 me that scrap-book, please? 
 
 George. Which one? 
 
 Gertrude. The one with the press notices. 
 
 George. This is it. {Hands her book.) I really shall 
 have to hurry. Will you excuse me? 
 
 Gertrude, By all means. 
 
 George. Good-morning, Mrs. Lawrence. 
 
 {Bows and exit, up c.) 
 
 Gertrude. Good -morning. 
 
 {She opens book and looks listlessly at its pages, turnifig 
 them sloivly. Suddenly she looks i}itently at a page, and 
 sinks into a chair at L. of table, reading and agitated at 
 -what she reads.) 
 
 Arthur {calling, outside). Gertrude ! (Gertrude rises 
 hastily, her finger in the book to hold the place. F.nter 
 Arthur, c.) Oh, here you are. Have you seen anything 
 of George? He was to get me some memoranda. 
 
 Gertrude. He left here a few moments ago. 
 
 Arthur. Oh, very well. But what are you doing? 
 
 {Puts hat on table.) 
 
 I 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 2/ 
 
 Gertrude. I've been looking over your scrap-book. 
 {Places scrap-book open on table, c, and sits, l. ) 
 
 Arthur. Couldn't you find anything more interesting? 
 (^Throws hat on table and sits, r. of table.) We've been 
 having a great fight to-day. There's going to be some 
 great *' doings " before the convention is over. By the way, 
 did you read the notice of our reception ? That last one 
 was a great send-off. 
 
 Gertrude. 1 was just looking at it. Would — would 
 you mind reading it to me, Arthur? 
 
 Arthur {looking at her, puzzled, but picking up book). 
 Why, certainly, if you wish. Let's see — here we are. 
 (Reads.) " Last night, in Washington, Congressman Arthur 
 Lawrence gave a magnificent ball to celebrate the opening 
 of his wQw home. It is said that the house alone cost twenty- 
 five thousand dollars. It is furnished in a style that only a 
 very rich man could afford. Six years ago Congressman 
 Lawrence went to Washington without a dollar, to devote 
 himself to political affairs, practically abandoning his grow- 
 ing law practice. He has apparently found politics profit- 
 able." {He laughs mirthlessly, and throws book on table.) 
 Isn't that just like them, the vultures ! {Looks at her.) 
 Look here, Gertrude, you aren't worrying over that petty 
 mud-throwing, are you ? 
 
 Gertrude. I — I don't know. They say such terrible 
 things about you. 
 
 Arthur. They do about every public man, dear. 
 That's modern journalism. 
 
 Gertrude [doubtfully). I know. I want to ask you 
 something, Arthur. 
 
 Arthur. Yes? 
 
 Gertrude. I've been wondering if we aren't living 
 rather extravagantly. 
 
 Arthur. Oh, is that all? No need to worry about 
 that. 
 
 Gertrude. Are you sure ? 
 
 Arthur. Why, of course. Why do you ask ? 
 
 Gertrude {intently). How much do you make in a 
 year ? 
 
 Arthur. How much do I make? Why — a 
 
 Gertrude. What was your income last year? Please 
 tell me. I have a reason for asking. 
 
28 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Arthur (^picking up lump of ore, and handling if). To 
 tell the truth, 1 don't believe I know myself. 
 
 Gertrude. Can't you estimate ? 
 
 Arthur. I suppose 1 could, but what do you want to 
 know for? 
 
 Gertrude. I think I ought to know. 
 
 Arthur. Don't you have everything you want? 
 
 Gertrude. Yes. 
 
 Arthur. Have I stinted you in anything? 
 
 Gertrude. No, you haven't. No woman ever had a 
 more generous husband. 
 
 Arthur {laughing). Then there's nothing more to be 
 said — since I'm such a paragon. 
 
 Gertrude. But I want to know — really. 
 
 Arthur. J. told you — I don't know myself. 
 
 Gertrude. But 1 am serious about this. Now, your 
 salary is seventy-five hundred, isn't it? 
 
 Arthur. Yes. 
 
 Gertrude. And the property father left me — how much 
 does that bring in ? 
 
 Arthur. Last year it brought in only two thousand. 
 
 Gertrude. That makes nme thousand, five hundred. 
 
 Arthur. But 1 never touch your money. I add it to 
 the principal. 
 
 Gertrude. So we have only seven thousand, five hun- 
 dred a year to live on ? 
 
 Arthur. No, no ! Much more than that. 
 
 Gertrude. That last reception we gave must have cost 
 at least eighteen hundred dollars. 
 
 Arthur. Well, I guess we're good for it. 
 
 {Puts ore on table.') 
 
 Gertrude. That's what I can't understand. How are 
 we good for it ? 
 
 Arthur {standing behind her chair with his arm around 
 her neck). My dear child, that isn't a nice way to speak 
 to me. 
 
 Gertrude. Arthur, I have a reason for asking these 
 questions, and I want you to give me a direct answer. 
 
 Arthur {re?fiovi?ig his arm). I think you must be ill, 
 dear. 
 
 Gertrude. I shall be, unless you tell me the truth. 
 {Rises.) 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 29 
 
 Arthur {walking r. and turning). Do you mean that 
 you want to know whether 1 am an honest man or not? 
 
 Gertrude. 1 have never questioned your honesty. 
 
 Arthur. Well, if you must know — last year I must have 
 spent nearly thirty thousand dollars, it was all 1 had. At 
 the end of the year I was five thousand in debt. That has 
 since been paid. 
 
 Gertrude. Where did you get that money ? 
 
 Arthur. That is a cruel question for a wife to ask her 
 husband. 
 
 Gertrude. Not when she knows he will be able to an- 
 swer it. 
 
 Akthur. Well, I — I — made it mostly through my law 
 practice. 
 
 Gertrude. But you said the other day that since you 
 went to Washington you had been forced to give up your 
 practice. 
 
 Arthur. So I have — very largely — almost entirely, in 
 fact. But there are still some interests that 1 have to look 
 out for. 
 
 Gertrude. Such as what? {^Comes down q.~) 
 
 Arthur. Well, there's the — there are some railroad in- 
 terests 
 
 Gertrude. Do you mean the railroad that Mr. Flint is 
 concerned in ? 
 
 Arthur. Why, yes. You know perfectly well I've been 
 associated with that railroad for years, in one way or another. 
 
 (^Comes down r.) 
 
 Gertrude. That's the road that has received so many 
 favors from the government, isn't it? 
 
 Arthur. Oh, that's mere gossip. There's no sucii 
 thing. 
 
 Gertrude {looking him square in the eyes). Arthur, 
 what do you do for that railroad ? 
 
 Arthur {flashing up). You're going too far, Gertrude. 
 
 Gertrude. 1 have a right to ask that question. You 
 acknowledge that you receive thousands of dollars a year 
 from that railroad — five times as much as your salary. 
 
 Arthur {angry). I made no such acknowledgment. 
 
 Gertrude. But you know it is true — you cannot 
 deny it. 
 
3© THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Arthur. I won't take the trouble to deny it, since you 
 evidently want to believe it. 
 
 Gertrude. And you know you don't give the road an 
 hour a day of your time. 
 
 Arthur. My dear girl, lawyers are not paid by the hour, 
 like seamstresses. 
 
 Gertrude. And you told me the railroad's regular at- 
 torney is Mr. Flint. 
 
 Arthur {tryifig to laugh it off). Well, Flint does all the 
 dirly work. 
 
 Gertrude. And what do you do? 
 
 Arthur. One minute, Gertrude. I warn you that you 
 are interfering with matters that do not concern you — that 
 you can't even comprehend. You are playing with fire, 
 Gertrude. You'd better stop now before it is too late. 
 
 Gertrude (^persisting'). What do you do for that com- 
 pany ? 
 
 Arthur [decisive ly). Very well — if I must tell it — I 
 simply look after its interests in the House. It's perfectly 
 legitimate. There are plenty of men who do the same thing 
 for other corporations — men in big positions. 
 
 Gertrude. Oh, Arthur ! 
 
 {She drops into chair r. of table. Bows her head in her 
 hafids and sobs.) 
 
 [Enter Henderson, c.) 
 
 Henderson. Mr. Melville has just telephoned, sir. He 
 says the convention is on, sir, and he wants to speak to you 
 at once, sir. He's holding the wire, sir. 
 
 Arthur. Tell him I'll be right down. 
 
 Henderson. All right, sir. Yes, sir. 
 
 [Exit, c.) 
 
 Arthur {going to Gertrude). Gertrude ! I must step 
 over to the hall immediately — my renomination is in doubt 
 — our very position in society is in jeopardy — Gertrude ! 
 Forget this scene — try to be yourself once more 
 
 Gertrude {half raisin^; her head). Go — now ! 
 
 Arthur. Good-bye, dear ! I'll hurry back as soon as 
 I can. Believe trie, you're making mountains of mole hills. 
 
 {Raises her head and kisses her on forehead, takes hat from 
 table and exit, hastily, c.) 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 3 1 
 
 Gertrude {slowly rising, looking after Arthur, going 
 L. sadly y pausing at door). Oh, Arthur ! 
 
 {Sobs and exit, L.) 
 
 (Enter Gei^eniewe, followed by Henderson, c.) 
 
 Henderson. He's not at home, ma'am. He's at the 
 convention, ma'am. 
 
 Genevieve. Oh, well, Mrs. Lawrence will do, if I can- 
 not see the Congressman. 
 
 Henderson {bowing). Yes, ma'am. Whom shall I say, 
 ma'am ? 
 
 Genevieve. Miss McSorley — Genevieve McSorley of the 
 daily " Argus." 
 
 Henderson. Very well, ma'am. Have a seat, ma'am. 
 
 {Exit, L.) 
 
 (Genevieve boldly surveys the room, looking at papers on 
 desk, and coming finally to scrap-book on table. Reads.) 
 
 Genevieve {tapping open page of book). They're after 
 him. Wait till 1 tell what 1 know. 
 
 {Enter Flint, c.) 
 
 Flint. Well ! 
 
 {Starts back in surprise at seeing Genevieve.) 
 
 Genevieve (-^^//^/z/^f/y). Why, Mr. FUnt ! This is really 
 an unexpected pleasure ! 
 
 Flint. What are you doing here? [Conies do7vnh.) I 
 thought you were in Washington. 
 
 Genevieve. Oh, not now. I called to see the Congress- 
 man, as I suppose you have. Very popular man, isn't he? 
 
 Flint. Yes. Is he at home ? 
 
 Genevieve. No. I find he is out, so I intend to inter- 
 view his wife instead. 
 
 Flint. His wife ? 
 
 {Enter Henderson, l.) 
 
 Henderson {to Genevieve). Mrs. Lawrence is indis- 
 posed, ma'am, and begs to be excused. (71? Flint.) The 
 Congressman is at the convention, sir. 
 
32 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Flint. Very well. I'll see him there — but, on second 
 thought — for fear that I might miss him, I wish you would 
 ask him to 'plione me this afternoon at the Palace Hotel. 
 
 Henderson. Very well, sir. I'll tell him, sir. 
 
 [Exit J c.) 
 
 Flint [hoiving to Genevieve). I wish you a very good- 
 morning, Miss 
 
 Genevieve {interrupting^. Why such haste, Mr. Flint? 
 (Pouts.) Can't you spare poor me a minute of your valua- 
 able time ? 
 
 Flint {bowing and looking at watch). Ten, if you like. 
 
 Genevieve (coaxingly). 1 want you to do something for 
 me. {Sits r. of table. ) 
 
 Flint {with mock politeness). I shall be only too glad. 
 
 {Sits L. of table.) 
 
 Genevieve. I should like to offer you my services. 
 
 Flint {suspiciously). What do you mean ? 
 
 Genevieve. I want you to give me something to do — a 
 slight share in some of your enterprises — I can be of use to 
 you. 
 
 Flint. But what about your own work — your newspa- 
 per ? 
 
 Genevieve. What does that amount to? Why, it hardly 
 pays for my frocks. And, to tell you the truth, I'm not at all 
 clever at it. My editor has to rewrite nearly everything I 
 turn in. By nature I'm a business woman. Society re- 
 porting bores me. I should like something more important 
 — in Washington. You see, I'm frank. 
 
 Flint. Since you're so frank, perhaps you'll tell me just 
 what you have in mind. 
 
 Genevieve. I think you know perfectly well what I mean. 
 I want you to let me in on some of your schemes. 
 
 Flint {dryly). I haven't any schemes of that sort. 
 
 Genevieve. How about your interest in railroad legis- 
 lation ? 
 
 Flint. It is true that I am employed by a railroad, but, 
 as you are not a lawyer, I don't see how you could help me. 
 
 Genevieve. Oh, stop beating about the hush ! Every- 
 body knows what you do for that railroad. Everybody 
 knows that last year you distributed more than a hun- 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 33 
 
 dred thousand dollars for it, and everybody knows that Con- 
 gressman Lawrence gets some of it. But everybody doesn't 
 know one other fact that 1 know. 
 
 Flint. And what may that be? 
 
 Genevieve {eyeing him sarcastically). If I show not 
 only that you have bribed Congressman Lawrence, but have 
 made love to his wife, that would be a dreadful scandal, 
 wouldn't it? 
 
 Flint {with forced indifference'), I don't know what you 
 are talking about. 
 
 Genevieve [with assurance). I saw something at that 
 reception in Washington, Mr. Flint. 
 
 Flint {sternly). You followed me about, then? 
 
 Genevieve. Oh, dear, no — nothing so vulgar as that. 
 It was all the merest chance. 1 happened to be in the room 
 assigned to the press representatives — it adjoins the lounging- 
 room — I saw you threaten Mrs. Lawrence — there was no 
 neetl of hearing all you said. It was as plain as A B C. 
 Now what do you propose to do about it ? 
 
 Flint. Do you realize that if you were to start a story 
 of that sort no one would believe you? 
 
 Genevieve. Then you wish me to publish the article? 
 
 Fllnt. Do as you please about that. It won't be the 
 first libel that has been printed about me. 
 
 Genevieve. How about Mrs. Lawrence's reputation ? 
 
 Flint, if the reputation of such a lady were assailed by 
 you, the general public would probably consider the source, 
 and let it go at that. 
 
 Genevieve. Perhaps you would prefer that I should in- 
 form Congressman Lawrence of what I saw. That would 
 be less public. 
 
 Flint. Tell him, and get turned out of the house for 
 your trouble. Besides, Mrs. Lawrence would deny the 
 story. Then where would you be ? No, my dear young 
 lady, you've made a false start. {Rises.) You'll have to 
 try your game on a younger hand. I've been in politics too 
 long to be afraid of a woman like you. If I were you, I'd 
 stick to newspaper work. It will undoubtedly pay you best 
 in the end. Good-morning, Miss McSorley. 
 
 (^Bows politely and exit, c.) 
 Genevieve {astounded ; watching Flint exit^ rising 
 
34 
 
 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 and stamp'uig her foot in anger). The vicious beast ! And 
 he has tlie presumption to talk Uke that to me ? 
 
 {^Enier Henderson, c.) 
 
 Henderson. Did you call, ma'am ? 
 
 Genevieve. No, I didn't call, and, what's more, I want 
 to get out of here as quick as 1 can. I'll make somebody 
 sweat for this ! You can just bet your sweet lite on that ! 
 
 {Rushes out door, c.) 
 
 Henderson {eyei?ig her suspiciously). Something must 
 have happened to displease the lady. 
 
 {^Enter Gertrude, l.) 
 
 Gertrude. Henderson. 
 
 Henderson {turnirig to i.., quick/y). Yes, ma'am. 
 Gertrude. Did Mr. Lawrence go to the caucus? 
 Henderson. Yes, ma'am. But 1 just heard some one 
 come in. I'll see if he has returned, ma'am. 
 
 {Exit, c.) 
 
 Gertrude {taking scrap-book from table, c, and placing 
 it on desk, r.). Oh, if 1 only hadn't looked in that book ! 
 
 {Efiter Henderson, c.) 
 
 Henderson. It wasn't Mr. Lawrence, ma'am. It was 
 Mr. Landon. He asked after your health, ma'am. Shall I 
 show him in ? 
 
 Gertrude {puzzled). Landon? Landon 
 
 Henderson. The newspaper chap, ma'am. 
 
 Gertrude. Oh, yes — how stupid of me ! Yes, you 
 may ask him in. 
 
 Henderson. Yes, ma'am. 
 
 {Exit, c, a Jid reenter at once, usheringl^A-^TiOH, then exit.) 
 (Gertrude ^^(fi- l. and sits.) 
 
 Landon. Good-morning, Mrs. Lawrence. 
 
 Gertrude (r/j-/;/^). Good-morning. I was surprised to 
 learn that you were here in New York. {Stts.) Won't you 
 sit down ? 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 35 
 
 Landon. Thank you. {Si'^s r.) I just came over to 
 attend a meeting of our club — the Citizens' League, you 
 know. 
 
 Gertrude. Indeed ? 
 
 Landon. We had an important meeting. We're getting 
 after Peters — know him ? 
 
 Gertrude. Slightly. He has been at our house to see 
 Mr. Lawrence. 
 
 Landon. I think we've got him where we want him, 
 now. He's been pretty foxy, but we caught him " with the 
 goods" in that big Subway grab. He engineered the whole 
 game. He stung the city for at least a million — they say he 
 pulled out a hundred thousand for himself — but it's going to 
 queer him for good. 
 
 Gertrude. Do you mean that you are going to — to put 
 him in jail ? 
 
 Landon {smiling at her i7inocence). Well — I don't know. 
 But he will be prosecuted, and the whole thing will be aired, 
 'i'he whole traction gang's in with him. Strange how hard 
 it is to rouse public opinion. That is why we have so many 
 rascals in public life. If I were going in for rascality, I'd 
 surely become a politician. It's the safest and most profita- 
 ble way of making money. Big returns and mighty little 
 risk. 
 
 Gertrude {inieasy). You surprise me, Mr. Landon. 
 Landon. It's true, nevertheless. What I've seen, from 
 my standpoint, made me so sick, I've several times been on 
 the point of quitting the business. But the League is doing 
 something. We have them scared now. 
 
 Gertrude. Mr. Lawrence has often spoken to me about 
 the immense influence of your League. 
 
 Landon. I wish we could persuade him to join us. 
 Then our men would get to understand him. They don't 
 now. They think he's an out-and-out machine man. 
 Gertrude. Indeed ? 
 
 Landon. Of course that is all nonsense. I only wish 
 we had more '•'■ machine men " like him. 
 
 Gertrude. It is awfully good of you to say that. 
 Landon. Well, I mean every word of it, and I guess I 
 know him thoroughly, if any man does. But I must get 
 back to the League headquarters. We have an important 
 committee meeting at noon. Would you kindly inform the 
 Congressman that I will call again, later in the day ? 
 
36 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Gertrude. I'll see that he receives your message the 
 moment he returns. 
 
 Landon. Thank you, Mrs. Lawrence. You should feel 
 proud of a husband who has so conducted himself that he 
 doesn't have to worry about being reelected. {Rises.) 
 
 Gertrude {embarrassed^. Thank you. 
 
 Landon. Good-morning, Mrs. Lawrence. 
 
 {Bows and exit, c.) 
 
 Gertrude. Good-morning, Mr. Landon. {Aside.) Oh, 
 how 1 wish that he would not be reelected ! If we could 
 only go back to where we started. {Sighs a?id exit, L.) 
 
 {^Enter Marjorie, c.) 
 
 Marjorie {at door, calling softly). Georgie ! Are you 
 real angry? {Looks for him.) Why, he isn't here. I won- 
 der if he is mad at me? Perhaps he's gone away. {Sta7nps 
 her foot.) Oh, what a little idiot I was to quarrel with 
 him ! 
 
 {Hears some one coming, and dodges behind screen, up L.) 
 
 {Enter Arthur, h., followed by Henderson.) 
 
 Arthur {throiving his hat on table, c). If any callers 
 come — take them into the reception room. 
 
 Henderson. Yes, sir. Mr. Landon called, sir, and 
 said he'd return later, sir. 
 
 Arthur. Very well. 
 
 Henderson. And — were you renominated, sir? 
 
 Arthur. Too early yet, but I guess there's no doubt I 
 shall be. 
 
 Henderson. I'm glad — very glad, sir. {Goes towat d 
 door, c, and retiir?is.) 1 forgot to tell you, sir. Mr. Flint 
 'Called, sir. 
 
 Arthur. Yes ? Where is he ? 
 
 Henderson. At the Palace hotel, sir. 
 
 Arthur. At a hotel? What did he go to a hotel for ? 
 He always stays here when he comes to town. 
 
 Henderson. I don't know, sir. He said would you 
 kindly 'phone him this afternoon, sir ? 
 
 Arthur. Strange. Did he say that any one was with 
 him ? 
 
 Henderson. No, sir. He only said he'd be at the 
 hotel this afternoon and wait until he heard from you, sir. 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 37 
 
 Arthur. Tell Jolm to take tlie car down at once and 
 bring Mr. Flint up here. Tell him to bring Mr. Flint's 
 baggage, too, and say to Mr. Flint that there is a room all 
 ready for him, as usual. 
 
 Henderson. Yes, sir, I will, sir. 
 
 (^Exiif c.) 
 
 Arthur (asiJe). This is a funny time for Flint to stand 
 on ceremony with me. 
 
 (■S/Zi" a^ R. qf table. Takes papers fro?n pocket afid ex- 
 amines them.') 
 
 Marjorie {co7nin^ from behind scree?i). Ahem ! 
 Arthur (not looking up). Oh, hello, Marjie ! 
 Marjorie (disappointed). How did you know me? 
 
 (Comes dozvn, l.) 
 
 Arthur (playfully). I'm a good guesser. I have to 
 be, in my business. 
 
 Marjorie. Where is George? Has he gone? 
 
 Arthur. Gone ! Where ? 
 
 Marjorie. Oh, I don't know. I couldn't imagine what 
 had become of him. Why, 1 haven't seen him for nearly 
 an hour ! 
 
 Arthur (in mock alarm). Why, that's perfectly dread- 
 ful ! 
 
 Marjorie. I should say as much. He was writing like 
 mad. — He could hardly find time even to speak to me. — 
 He said you were up to your neck. 
 
 Arthur (cimused). Did he? 
 
 Marjorie. I suspected he was making his will. 
 
 Arthur. His will ? 
 
 Marjorie. Yes. He looked desperate enough. I was 
 afraid he might be going to have one of those brain-storms, 
 or exaggerated egos. I suppose it's all because you make 
 him work so hard. He's so delicate. 
 
 Arthur. Boys generally are, at his age — especially when 
 they're just out of college. 
 
 Marjorie. I think you're just horrid to say such things 
 about him, when he tries so hard to help you. 
 
 Arthur. Well, he has a warm champion, at any rate. 
 Look here. What's going on between you and George? 
 
 Marjorie. Nothing — that is — why, nothing. 
 
38 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Arthur. Oh — nothing. Well, that nothing is getting 
 very warm, it seems to me. Look here, Marjie. 1 have a 
 bit of advice to offer you. 
 
 Marjorie. Oh, 1 know you're going to tell me how 
 foolish it is to get married. That's the way married people 
 always talk. 
 
 Arthur. No, I don't mean that. 
 
 Marjorie. Well, then, I should wait until he gets rich, 
 I suppose. No use of even considering that. If 1 did, I 
 should be certain to die an old maid ! 
 
 Arthur. No, I don't mean that, either. Just make him 
 give up the foolish notion he has of going into politics. 
 
 Marjorie. Oh, Uncle Art ! 
 
 Arthur. George is a good, clean -hearted fellow. You 
 don't want him to become cyni.cal and hypocritical and 
 deceitful, do you? You don't want him to believe there's 
 no such thing as unselfishness in the world — that when a 
 man turns his hand for you he expects to be paid for it ten 
 times over? 
 
 Marjorie. Well ! What in the world is the matter 
 with you ? 
 
 Arthur {taking liunp of ore from table). Look here. 
 Did you ever notice this ? 
 
 Marjorie. Now, what? 
 
 Arthur. Do you know what that is? 
 
 Marjorie. Why, a lump of gold, I suppose. 
 
 Arthur. Yes. It is "gold," but not the kind you 
 think it is. It's ''Fool's Gold." 
 
 Marjorie. " Fool's Gold " ? 
 
 Arthur. Yes. It glistens like gold — it has something 
 the color of gold — and, at a distance, even experts might be 
 deceived by its appearance; but a close examination reveals 
 the fact that it is not pure gold, but only common, every- 
 day iron pyrites — valueless — a mere dross ! And many a 
 miner has wasted his all in the accumulation of this very 
 stone, only to find in the end that his work has been in vain ! 
 
 Marjorie. Well ! 
 
 Arthur. Well, so it is with politics: — the life is fasci- 
 nating — it glitters from afar — it is cloaked in wealth, gaiety 
 and abandon — but, if inspected at close range, it resolves 
 itself into a hideous mass of slag — it won't bear inspection 
 — compared to the nobler forms of life, it is a mere imita- 
 tion — it is not the bona fide article — it is only ''Fool's 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 39 
 
 Gold." (^Places ore on table.') That is all. I won't preach 
 any more. 
 
 Marjorie {tea?'fully). What is the matter ? Isn't George 
 a good secretary ? 
 
 Arthur. Oh, yes, he's good enough. 
 
 Marjorie. Then what are you mad at him about? Has 
 he been making '* Fool's Gold " ? 
 
 Arthur (^laughing). Why 
 
 {^Enier George, c. ) 
 
 Marjorie {running to George). Oh, George, what do 
 you mean by keeping me in suspense in this manner ? 
 
 (^Both stop in a hesitating maimer.') 
 
 Arthur. Go ahead. I'm not looking. 
 
 (Marjorie a7id George embrace.') 
 
 Marjorie {to Arthur). Thank you, sir. 
 
 Arthur. Now, run along, the both of you. 
 
 George. Can't I do anything for you, sir? 
 
 Arthur. Not now. I'll ring when I need you. Oh, 
 Marjie, you might ask your aunt to look in a moment. 1 
 want to speak to her. 
 
 Marjorie. All right. 
 
 {Takes George's arin and dances out, l.) 
 
 Arthur {picking icp ore afid examining it). '* Fool's 
 Gold ! " 
 
 {Enter Gertrude, l.) 
 
 Gertrude {with dignity). Did you wish to see me? 
 
 Arthur {rising and placing ore on table). Yes. There 
 are one or two things I wanted to talk over. Won't you sit 
 down ? 
 
 Gertrude {sitting i..). Thank you. 
 
 Arthur. How are the children this morning? {Sits.) 
 
 Gertrude. I've just left them in the nursery. They 
 are perfectly well. 
 
 Akthur. Hasn't Jennie taken them out yet? 
 
 Gertrude. Jennie has left. 
 
 Arthur {astonished). What ! That is a misfortune ! 
 You can hardly get any one to fill her place. Why did she 
 leave so suddenly, after being with us so many years? I 
 thought she was a fixture. 
 
40 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Gertrude. I sent her away 
 
 Arthur {surprised^. Sent Jennie away ! Why? 
 
 Gb:RTRUDE. Because we cannot afford to keep her. 
 
 Arthur. You discharged her? Why, what do you pro- 
 pose to do with the children when we go back to Washington ? 
 
 Gertrude. 1 am not going back to Washington. 
 
 Arthur. What do you mean by that? 
 
 Gertrude. We cannot afford 
 
 Arthur (J?iterruptiiig). There you go again with that 
 *' cannot afford " ! You make me feel as if 1 were a pauper 
 — or a thief ! 
 
 Gertrude. I was going to say that we couldn't afford to 
 live in Washington as we have been living. 
 
 Arthur. Do you intend to cut yourself off from my 
 political life altogether ? 
 
 Gertrude. You know why I want to cut myself off 
 from it. 
 
 Arthur. I suppose you realize what people will say? 
 
 Gertrude. There are plenty of congressmen's wives 
 who do not go to Washington with their husbands. 
 
 Arthur. But you have taken part in the life. You've 
 been conspicuous. 
 
 Gertrude. 1 cannot go back. 
 
 Arthur. Cannot! Why not? 
 
 Gertrude. 1 should merely be a drag on you. I know 
 you would be happier without me. And, anyhow, I couldn't 
 live as we used to live, knowing that the money 1 spend 
 
 Arthur. Well ? 
 
 Gertrude. Knowing where it comes from. 
 
 Arthur {expostulating). Oh, now 
 
 Gertrude. I had hoped that you wouldn't be renomi- 
 nated, that you wouldn't have to go back to Washington^ 
 except for the remainder of your present term. 
 
 Arthur. You hoped that I would not be renominated, 
 eh? I wonder how you'd feel if you knew what the loss of 
 that nomination would mean to me? (^Rises.) 
 
 Gertrude {rising). If it meant poverty or humiliation, 
 Arthur, I should be glad to share it with you. 
 
 Arthur. Now, please don't waste any heroics on me. 
 But let me tell you one thing, Gertrude. Jf 1 am not re- 
 nominated, I shall be a ruined man. Just at present, 1 
 haven't five thousand dollars in the world ! 
 
 Gertrude. And even that 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 4I 
 
 At^thur. Well ? 
 
 Gkktrude. oil, why do you force me to say tliese 
 things? Even that five thousand dollars is not lawfully 
 yours ! 
 
 Arthur. I see that it is useless for me to try to please 
 you. I had resolved, on my return, to cast off all question- 
 able influences, and devote myself to my duties with a feel- 
 ing of absolute independence, but now Oh, by the 
 
 way — Flint called while 1 was out, and, instead of stopping 
 here as usual, has gone to a hotel. Why did you not abk 
 hnii to remain ? 
 
 Gertrude (nervotisly). I did not know that he called. 
 
 Arthur. Well, there is something strange about it. 
 However, I have sent John to fetch him here, bag and bag- 
 gage. I intend to utilize this occasion to warn him that 
 
 Gertkude {alar?7ied). Is he going to stay here? 
 
 Arthur. Yes. Why not? 
 
 Geri'rude {sighi?ig). Too bad ! 
 
 Arthur. 1 know that you do not like him, but surely 
 you won't object to his staying here a day or two. You've 
 never ol)jected before. 
 
 Gertrude. I didn't know him then as I do now. 
 
 Arthur Qrngry). Just what do you mean by that? 
 
 Gertrude. If he comes, I cannot remain here. 
 
 Arthur. I see that it is about time I put my foot down. 
 You shan't stir out of this house. You'll stay here, and 
 you'll receive Frederick Flint as you receive all of my other 
 friends. Do you understand ? 
 
 Gertrude. Perfectly. 
 
 Arthur. Then you won't do anything foolish? 
 
 Gertrude. If that man comes here — I leave ! 
 
 Arthur. Then if you do — you leave for good ! 
 
 {Enter Henderson, c, followed by Flint.) 
 
 Henderson. Mr: Flint. 
 
 (Gertrude, without looking atYiA^T, goes toward door, l.) 
 
 Arthur {starting toward her'). Gertrude! 
 
 {Exit, Gertrude, l. Flint looks after her 7vith uneasi- 
 ness, ilien turns toward Arthur, wlio stands rigidly, as 
 though dazed.) 
 
 QUICK CURTAIN 
 
ACT III 
 
 SCENE.—Same as Act II. 
 
 (^Discovered, Arthur at table, c, readifig letters, tele- 
 gravis, etc.) 
 
 (Enter Marjorie, door L.) 
 
 Marjorie. Uncle Art ! 
 
 Arthur (without looking tip). Yes? 
 
 Marjorie {approaching). Say, Uncle Art ! 
 
 Arthur. Well, what is it ? 
 
 Marjorie. What's the matter? 
 
 Arthur. Matter ! What do you mean ? 
 
 Marjorie. You know. What's the matter between 
 auniie and you? Oh, I'm not afraid of you. I don't mind 
 your being cross with me a bit. 
 
 Arthur. My dear little girl, you mustn't interfere with 
 things that don't concern you. 
 
 Marjorie. Please don't say that. Besides, they do con- 
 cern me. I have a right to be concerned when I see auniie 
 come out of here with her face just as white as chalk, and 
 her eyes looking as if they were going to pop out of her 
 head. 
 
 Arthur. You see too much, Marjie. 
 
 Marjorie. Well, what do you suppose my eyes were 
 made for, anyway? Besides, I didn't have anything else to 
 do. George has stopped speaking to me. 
 
 Arthur. What for? 
 
 Marjorie. Because I told him to. 
 
 Arthur. Have you two been quarreling? 
 
 Marjorie. No, we haven't. 1 just told him he'd better 
 go and attend to your business, instead of billing and cooing 
 with me. There were a lot of people who wanted to see 
 you. So, as you were busy, of course George had to repre- 
 sent you. 
 
 Arthur (rising). Where are they ? 
 
 Marjorie. In the reception room. 
 
 42 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 43 
 
 ARTHUR. It's probably Callahan and his gang. I for- 
 got all about them. 
 
 (^Exit, c.) 
 
 Marjorie (calling after Arthur). AVell, then tell 
 
 George [Stamps her foot, angrily.') Nobody seems 
 
 to care for me around here. I've a good mind to go home. 
 
 {Turns L.) 
 
 {Enter George, c.) 
 
 George. Hello, Marjie ! 
 
 Marjorie {back to George). Everything seems to be 
 going wrong to-day. I almost wish 1 wasn't here. 
 George. Oh, you do, eh? 
 
 {Goes r., sitSy and bows his head in his hands.) 
 
 Marjorie {glancing at George over her shoulder) . Now, 
 don't be silly. 
 
 George. I wish I could 
 
 Marjorie. Could what? 
 
 George. I wish I had the authority to compel you to 
 stop being angry at me. 
 
 Marjorie. Sir ! Is this a proposal ? If it is {sitting), 
 well — I'll think about it. 
 
 George. Think about it ? 
 
 Marjorie. Yes. They always say that in books. I'm 
 going to do this in the proper way, even if you don't. In 
 the first place (/// a romantic manner), you'll have to speak 
 
 to father {Brightly.) I have an idea. I'll pretend 
 
 that I'm dad. {Rises.) Now, here's dad, strutting up and 
 down the library. {Faces up and doian in imitation.) 
 That's what he always does when he has some momentous 
 question to decide. {Pauses and faces George; i?i a deep 
 voice.) Well, sir? 
 
 George {disgusted). Oh, say, now ! 
 
 Marjorie. Oh, I'm serious about this. If you don't 
 answer my questions I'll say "no" outright, and I'll get 
 Uncle Art to discharge you in the bargain. {A^^ain imi- 
 tating her father.) Well, sir, what can I do for you ? 
 
 George {meekly). You can give me your child, sir. 
 
 Marjorie. Now, you know very well you wouldn't talk 
 like that ! I guess you don't know dad ! 
 
44 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 George. Well, what would I say? 
 
 Makjorie. Something foolish, 1 suppose. But this is 
 what you ought to say. {^Assumes a romaiitic attitude.) 
 Sir ! 1 love your beautiful daughter Marjorie, and 1 ask 
 your permission to make her my wife. {Cha?ioes man- 
 ner.) Then dad would say {wiitaiing)^ So! You want to 
 marry Marjie, do you ? Well, you're about the tenth 
 man 
 
 George. What ! 
 
 Makjokie. If you made a noise like that dad would 
 probably order you out of the house. {Imitates her father.) 
 Young man, since you are contemplating matrimony, 1 pre- 
 sume you are in a position to support a wife. Um — ah — 
 just what is your income? 
 
 George. 1 guess 1 won't play any more. This is be- 
 coming too personal. 
 
 Marjorie {hand at ear). I didn't quite catch your last 
 remark — five thousand ? 
 
 George. Five nothing ! I get one thousand and found. 
 That's about twenty a week spending money. 
 
 Marjorie {iiatural voice). And you've been sending me 
 all those flowers on that ? 
 
 George. Well, flowers don't cost so much in the sum- 
 mer, I intended to stop when cold weather arrived. 
 
 Marjorie. Why, George, I thought you got ever so 
 much more than that ! You poor thing ! Why, I spend 
 twice as much as that myself, and I'm always sending home 
 for more. 
 
 George. Well, I can't help it if I'm not rich. 
 
 Marjorie. Do you know what dad would do if you 
 told him how little you are earning? Why, he'd laugh at 
 you. 
 
 George {sighing). Well, I suppose I might as well give 
 you up first as last. 
 
 Marjorie {impulsively). Well, I guess not ! {Restrains 
 herself.) Say ! You're awfully interesting. Yes, really. 
 What did you take such a position for ? 
 
 George. I — I wanted to get into politics 
 
 MarJ(jrie. Well, I might as well warn you that the 
 mere sight of a politician makes dad froth at the mouth! 
 Swell chance you'd have ! 
 
 George. What about your uncle? 
 
 Marjorie. Well, he says Uncle Art made the greatest 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 45 
 
 mistake of his life when he gave up law to go into politics. 
 No — dad would never let us — well, you know — if you were 
 going to stick to politics — not to even mention the " twenty 
 a week." 
 
 George. What can I do, then? I'm not clever like the 
 other fellows. Don't you suppose I know I'd have lost my 
 position long ago if your uncle wasn't the kindest man on 
 earth ? 
 
 Marjorie. I guess I'll have to speak to dad myself. 
 I'll make him give you a job in the factory. 
 
 George. In the factory? 
 
 Marjorie. Yes. But you'll have to overcome all your 
 hifalutin notions. Dad'U make you put on overalls and 
 begin at the bottom. 
 
 George. How much would he give me? 
 
 Marjorie. He generally starts boys at three dollars a 
 week, but, perhaps through influence, you may be able to 
 get as much as ten. Do you think you could support our 
 box at the opera on that ? 
 
 George {disgusted^. Oh ! 
 
 (^Enter Arthur, c.) 
 
 Marjorie. Oh, Uncle Art ! How much does it cost to 
 keej) house ? 
 
 Arthur. That depends. 
 
 Marjorie. On what? 
 
 Arthur. On whether you live in a house or an apart- 
 ment — on the way you live — on how many servants you 
 keep, and automobiles — and horses — and furniture — and 
 paintings — and entertaining, and a thousand other things. 
 
 Marjorie. How much does this house cost a year? 
 
 Arthur. The rent is three thousand. 
 
 MARJOUIEJ 0,^, 
 
 George ) 
 
 Arthur. What did you want to know for? 
 
 Marjorie. According to that you couldn't possibly live 
 well on twenty dollars a week, could you ? 
 
 Arthur {smiling). Well, hardly ! 
 
 Marjorie. I don't see how so many people can afford 
 to get married ! 
 
 {Enter Henderson, c.) 
 
 Henderson (announcing). Mr. Graham MacDonald. 
 
46 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Marjorie. It's dad ! Come on ! Let's get out, quick ! 
 (^Grasps George by the arm and runs him off, l.) 
 {Enter Graham, c.) 
 
 Arthur {shaking Jiands with Graham). Well, Graham, 
 I am glad to see you ! 
 
 Gkaham. Did you get the nomination ? 
 
 Ak'ihuk. Don't know yet, 
 
 Graham. Well, 1 hope you don't get it — then you'll be 
 able to take up my law case. 
 
 Arthur. You certainly are persistent about that law 
 case. 
 
 Graham. Well, perhaps you think that a little matter of 
 a hundred thousand dollars isn't worth being persistent over? 
 
 Arthur. Does it mean as much as that to you ? 
 
 Graham. Well, I should think it did, and more, too. 
 And it means twenty-five thousand to you if you win the 
 case; and I'm so sure you can do it that I'll advance you 
 all or any part of it whenever you say. 
 
 Arthur. That is a great temptation. I need the money 
 badly enough. 
 
 Graham. Well, then, take the case.- 
 
 Arthur. I'll tell you what I'll do, Graham. I'll take 
 it 
 
 Graham {interrupting). Good ! 
 
 Arthur. If I am not renominated. 
 
 Graham {disappointed). Then there's no chance ! 
 
 Arthur. Don't be too certain. My renomination is by 
 no means ''cinched." The progressives are putting up a 
 mighty strong fight. 
 
 {Enter Henderson, c.) 
 
 Henderson. Excuse me, sir, but there is a gentle- 
 men 
 
 Arthur. All right — send him in. 
 Henderson. Yes, sir. 
 
 {Exit, c.) 
 
 Arthur. Here's an opportunity for you to study ward 
 politics at close range. 
 
 Gf^aham. No, thank you, no politics for mine. I'll just 
 stroll into the library and read the papers until you have 
 finished. 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 47 
 
 Arthur. But I can 
 
 Graham. No. Don't let me interfere. 
 
 (^Exit, L.) 
 
 {^E titer Jim Callahan, c.) 
 
 Arthur. Well, Mr. Callahan {shaking hands with Cal- 
 lahan), what can 1 do for you ? 
 
 Callahan. I've come back to have another talk with 
 you. Congressman. 
 
 Arthur. All right, Mr. Callahan. Won't you be 
 seated ? 
 
 Callahan (j-emaining standing'). I didn't know just 
 what reply to make to your remarks till the committee got 
 together. 
 
 Arthur. Well, what is your decision? 
 
 Callahan (hesitating). Well, the fact is — we ain't sat- 
 isfied. We think you oughter make us a more out-an'-out 
 promise. 
 
 Arthur. I do not think I made a promise of any sort. 
 
 Callahan. That's just the trouble. {Chews his cigar 
 viciously.) We'se been workin' fer you, an' you'se ain't 
 workin' fer us. So now, before we vote, we wancha ta cut 
 the blarney an' git down to facts. See ! 
 
 Arthur. You're a little indefinite yourself now, Mr. 
 Callahan. 
 
 Callahan. Well, I won't be no more, see ! The boys 
 claim you'se went back on 'em. 
 
 Arthur. How was that? 
 
 Callahan. Ya didn't wiggle an eye-winker fer us. Tha 
 boys ask fer jobs, an' ya let 'em all go to them Civil Service 
 dudes ! 
 
 Arthur. I was compelled to observe the law. 
 
 Callahan. Aw, cut that ! You coulda give us them 
 places if ya wanted ter. 
 
 Arthur. With all your experience, Mr. Callahan, it 
 certainly is not necessary for me to explain the requirements 
 of a Civil Service examination. I would suggest that you 
 provide your constituents with the proper instructions to en- 
 able them 
 
 Caij,ahan. That's all very well ta talk — but we'll pass 
 that by. Whatcha goin' ta do now — that's the queslion ? 
 
 Arihur. What do you want ? 
 
48 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Callahan. The boys voted ta knife ya, only Flint said 
 ta come an' see ya once more, an' give ya a chance ta make 
 good. 
 
 Arthur. Well, all I can promise is that if any places 
 come my way that are not covered by the Civil Service, you 
 shall have them. 
 
 Callahan. Say, Congressman, dat salve might lubercate 
 tha feelin's of parsons an' sich like, but it won't go wit tha 
 boys, an' you know it. Don't fergit they has to do tha 
 dirty work. 
 
 Arthur. Unfortunately it is all I have to offer. 
 
 Callahan. Tha boys don't think yer record calls fer 
 pultin' on airs about a little patronage. 
 
 Arthur {sternly'). What do you mean by that? 
 
 Callahan. 1 don't mean nuthin' ; the boys got ta talk- 
 ing a little wild, I s'pose — sorta gettin' desprit. 
 
 Arthur. 1 fully understand how you all feel, and I'd 
 help you if 1 could. 1 only wish 1 could make you see that 
 1 cannot do what is impossible. 
 
 Callahan. Why " impossible " ? Wot's been done be- 
 fore can be done ag'in. l"ha boys is tired a-takin' tha leav- 
 in's. They can't live forever on tha scrap heap. 
 
 Arthur. 1 repeat — I will do all I can 
 
 Callahan. Which means <* nuthin' " ! All right, I'll 
 tell tha boys whatcha say. Good-day, Congressman. 
 
 [Limply shakes hands with Arthur, and exit, c.) 
 
 Arthur. It doesn't require a mind reader to perceive 
 that those fellows mean trouble and plenty of it. 
 
 {Enter Henderson, c.) ' 
 
 Henderson {handing card). Lady to see you, sir. 
 
 Arthur {taking card, reading). '* Miss Genevieve Mc- 
 
 Sorley " {Absently.) Where have 1 seen that name? 
 
 Oh, yes, I remember. 1 suppose 1 shall have to see her. 
 
 Henderson. Yes, sir. 
 
 {Exit, c.) 
 Arthur. Too bad she had to bother me to-day. 
 
 {Enter Genevieve, c.) 
 Genevieve {effusively). How good of you to remember 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 49 
 
 me, Congressman. But then it's a part of your business to 
 remember peo])le, isn't it ? 
 
 Arthur. Oh, }es, 1 remember you perfectly. 
 
 {Places a chair for her,') 
 
 Genevieve. That is very flattering, I am sure. {Sits.') 
 Well, Congressman, I've come on a disagreeable errand. 
 
 Arthur. I'm sorry to hear that. 
 
 Genevieve. But with the best intentions in the world. 
 
 Arthur. That makes it all right, then. 
 
 Genevieve. 1 suppose I may as well come to the point 
 at once. It's about that railroad matter. 
 
 Arthur. Ah I But aren't your readers rather tired of 
 that subject ? 
 
 Genevieve. Not when there are new and exciting devel- 
 opments. 
 
 Arthur. Such as what ? 
 
 Genevieve (reflecting). Well — thus far the papers have 
 spared Mrs. Lawrence 
 
 Arthur. Mrs. Lawrence.? What has she to do with 
 that railroad ? 
 
 Genevieve. I warn you it is very unpleasant, but I — 1 
 consider it my duty to tell you. 
 
 Arthur. Go ahead, then. 
 
 Genevieve {deliberately). I happen to know that Mr. 
 Frederick Flint has taken advantage of his hold on you to 
 make love to your wife. 
 
 Arthur (stmmed). This is the worst yet. 
 
 Genevieve. Well, the worst of it is — 'tis true ! 
 
 Arthur. I don't believe it. 
 
 Genevieve. But I saw him. It was the night of your 
 ball in Washington. He undeniably threatened her, and 
 she undeniably was frightened, and, knowing your relations 
 with him — it wasn't at all difficult for me to understand 
 wiiat he was saying. 
 
 Arthur. Why have you come to me with this vile story ? 
 
 Genevieve. Because I thought you ought to know it. 
 
 Arthur. Is that why you waited this long to tell me? 
 
 Genevieve. No. I waited because I knew that to-day 
 the information would be more valuable to me. 
 
 Arthur. How more valuable? 
 
 Genevieve. You public men are so dense at times ! 
 Well, to be more explicit — although it will make a beautiful 
 
50 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Story, yet I could be prevailed upon to refrain from publish- 
 ing it, if 
 
 Arthur. You mean you want me to pay you to sup- 
 press it ? 
 
 Genevieve. Exactly ! That's it. 
 
 Arthur. Well, you have come to the wrong man. I've 
 done a good many things, during my career, that I regret, 
 but I have never yet submitted to blackmail. 
 
 Genevieve. That's a harsh word, Mr. Lawrence. But 
 perhaps }'0U prefer to have your wife's name disgraced ? 
 
 Arthur. I tell you the whole story is a lie ! 
 
 Genevieve. Concocted by me, eh ? 
 
 Arthur. Put any construction on my words that you 
 please. But you can't work me for one cent. 
 
 {Pounds table bell.') 
 
 Genevieve [risi?/g). I'll queer your election for you ! 
 
 {Ejifer Henderson, c.) 
 
 Arthur. Show this lady out ! (Genevieve sfa?ids 
 stunned — then suddenly sticks up her 7?ose «/ Arthur — laughs 
 cynically and exit, Q.y followed by Henderson.) Of all the 
 
 contemptible {E?iter Ge^trvt>^, i.., dressed for the 
 
 street^ and carrying suit-case.) Why, what are you doing, 
 Gertrude? 
 
 Gertrude. I told you I was going away. 
 
 (Starts for door, c.) 
 
 Arthur (stopping her). Nonsense ! Don't be foolish ! 
 
 Gertrude. You are only prolonging my misery. 
 
 Arthur. Now, Gertrude, for heaven's sake calm your- 
 self ! Give me an opportunity to straighten matters out ! 
 
 Gertrude. I cannot remain here while that man is in 
 the house. 
 
 Arthur. Well, what is your reason ? 
 
 Gertrude. Please don't ask me. It's better that you 
 shouldn't. I've tried ! Oh, I've 
 
 Arthur. There is a reason, then ! Now, then, what 
 is it? (Gertrude i-/;//^/;;^ on chair, l., sobs.) Well, I'm 
 waiting ! 
 
 Gertrude. At our reception in Washington he — he in- 
 sulted me ! 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 5 I 
 
 Arthur {astounded'). He insulted you? Tliis must be 
 some fancy of yours. Why, Flint is the most courteous and 
 suave — he's too suave. What did he say ? 
 
 Gertrude. He said that he had been in love with me 
 for years. When 1 endeavored to summon the servants, he 
 said they were in reality his servants — that you were in his 
 pay {Bleaks down and sobs.) 
 
 Arthur. The scoundrel ! Why didn't you speak of this 
 before ? 
 
 Gertrude. I did not dare. He said it would ruin you ! 
 
 Arthur. Ruin me? And you've kept silent just to 
 protect me? {Bitterly.) I might have known what this 
 life would lead to ! I've dragged myself through the gutter, 
 and I've dragged my family with me. But it isn't too late 
 
 to retract at least a part {Rings table bell. Enter 
 
 Henderson, c.) Ask Mr. Flint kindly to step here. 
 
 Henderson. Yes, sir. 
 
 {Exit, c.) 
 
 Gertrude {risi?ig). What are you going to do? 
 
 Arthur. Oh, I don't intend to kill him. There shall 
 not be any murder 
 
 Gertrude. Oh, Arthur ! Don't ! Please don't, I beg 
 of you ! 
 
 Arthur. Hush ! He's coming ! 
 
 Gertrude {faintly). Oh 1 
 
 {Falls back in chair, fainting.) 
 {Enter Flint, c.) 
 
 Flint. Any news, Arthur ? 
 
 Arthur {sharply). Flint ! 
 
 Flint {astonished). What's the matter ? 
 
 Arthur. You're a cad and a blackguard ! 
 
 Flint. What ! 
 
 Arthur. Get down on your knees, you scoundrel, and 
 apologize for the insult you offered my wife ! 
 
 Flint. Insult? It's a mistake ! 
 
 Arthur. No ! There's no mistake ! My wife isn't in 
 the habit of lying ! 
 
 Flint. So ! This is your method of throwing me over 
 — using your wife as a pretext 
 
52 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Arthur {seizing Flint by the throat and forcing him to 
 his knees in frofit of Gertrude). There is my wife ! 
 Apologize before I choke the life out of you. (^Chokes hint.') 
 
 Gertrude. Oh, Arthur ! 
 
 Flint (^sputter ing). 1 — 1 apologize. 
 
 Arthur {releasing hwi). Now get out ! 
 
 {Points to door, c.) 
 
 Flint {pai? fully rising, limps to door, c, and turns to 
 Arthur). You'll pay for this ! 
 
 {Shakes his fist at Arthur a?id exit, c.) 
 
 Gertrude. Oh, Arthur ! 
 
 (Arthur goes to Gertrude; assists her to arise, puts his 
 ar?n around her and helps her off, C. ) 
 
 {Enter Marjorie ^//</ George, l.) 
 
 Marjorie. Are your hands feverish and clammy ? And 
 do you feel cold chills running up and down your back ? 
 That's the way they feel in novels. Now, what are you 
 going to say to dad ? Tell me, quick ! He'll be here in 
 two minutes ! He said he was coming right in. Sh ! Here 
 he comes now ! 
 
 {Enter Graham, l.) 
 
 Graham {inspecting them and the furniture). I thought 
 you said that some one wanted to see me ? 
 
 Marjorie {7iervously). Yes. This gentleman. {Fafs 
 George on the back.) I think I'll get out of the way. 
 Bye-bye, little one. 
 
 {Exit, hastily, door c. ; frequently pops her head inside to 
 listen and pantomijne encouragement to George.) 
 
 Graham. Well, sir ? 
 
 George. Well — er — you — that is 
 
 Graham. What's the matter with you? 
 
 George. The fact is, sir, I want to ask — er — that is — to 
 ask a favor of you. 
 
 Graham. What is it? Money difficulties? I told you 
 this political game was bad business ! 
 
 George. N-No — it isn't that. 
 
the congressman 53 
 
 Graham. No ? 
 
 George. It's something far more serious. 
 
 GuAHAM. A-ha ! 
 
 George. It isn't your money that I'm after — it's Mar- 
 jorie ! 
 
 Graham. What ! 
 
 George. Yes, sir, I'm in love with her. 
 
 Graham. Well, that's nothing remarkable. I believe 
 most of the boys down home are. But I'm glad you like 
 her. I'm sure it's quite a compliment. 
 
 George. But I want to marry her. 
 
 Graham. Oh, you do, eh? Well, that is quite a dif- 
 ferent matter. (^Paces up and down.) You see, by the 
 time she gets through college 
 
 George {gasping). Through college ? 
 
 Graham. Yes. Why not? Don't you believe in edu- 
 cation for women ? 
 
 George. Um — a — yes — (Marjorie pantomimes that she 
 doesn't want to go to college, but wants hijn) but she doesn't 
 want to go to college. She only wants 
 
 Graham. Wants what? 
 
 George. Me. 
 
 Graham. You ? How do you know that ? 
 
 George. Because she told me so. 
 
 Graham. Oh, she did, eh ? Well, if that is the case, 
 we'll have to know something about you. Now, for in- 
 stance, just what is your present income ? Are you prepared 
 to support a wife ? 
 
 George. I — I expect 
 
 Graham. That isn't the point. How much real money 
 do you make — now? 
 
 George. Well, not so very much at present. 
 
 Graham. Um. — Any prospects ? 
 
 George {hesitatingly). I don't exactly know. 
 
 Graham. You don't know whether you have any pros- 
 pects or not ? 
 
 George. The fact is 
 
 Graham. And yet you want to marry my daughter ! 
 Well, I like your nerve, young man ! 
 
 Marjorie {jumping betiveen them). That's just what T 
 like, too. {To George.) I'm ashamed of you ! After all 
 our practicing, too! {To Graham.) Now, look here, 
 dad — {placing her hand on his shoulder) you've always 
 
54 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 blamed me for not being a boy. Now, here's a son for you 
 — all ready-made — with his wild oats all sown, and ready 
 to buckle down to hard work. 
 
 Graham {looking fro7n one to the other in amazement'). 
 What does all this mean, anyway ? 
 
 Marjorie. It means that you've got to give this young 
 man a jo5 ! 
 
 Graham. A job ! Where? 
 
 Marjokie. In the factory. 
 
 Graham. What ! {Points to George.) Him ? 
 
 Marjorie. Yes. Him ! Now, don't make fun of your 
 future son-in-law. 
 
 Graham {to George). Are you willing to soil those 
 white hands of yours ? 
 
 George. Yes, sir, and glad of the chance. 
 
 Graham. And take ten dollars a week ? 
 
 Marjorie. What ! My precious work for ten dollars a 
 week ? 
 
 George. I'll take anything you think I'm worth, sir! 
 
 Marjorie. Never ! {To Graham.) You'll give him 
 twenty-five or I'll disown you ! 
 
 Graham. Well, we'll see about that. 
 
 Marjorie. And will you give us your blessing, sir? 
 
 Graham. I'll send you home if you don't behave. And 
 let me tell you one thing ! There's to be no engagement 
 between you two for a year. Do you understand that ? 
 
 Marjorie. Perhaps it's just as well. He couldn't afford 
 to buy a ring, anyway. 
 
 Graham. Just wait till your mother hears of this. 
 
 {Exit, c.) 
 
 Marjorie (huggino^ George). Oh ! You were just per- 
 fect ! Come on ! Let's go and see mamma ! 
 
 {Takes his arm and runs him off, l.) 
 
 {Enter Arthur, c.) 
 
 Arthur. It's a pity I didn't thrash that miserable scoun- 
 drel 1 {Comes dow7i r.) 
 
 {Enter Henderson, c.) 
 
 Henderson. Mr. Landon, sir 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 55 
 
 Arthur. Show him in. 
 Henderson. Yes, sir. 
 
 {Exit, c.) 
 
 Arthur. It looks as if Landon were trying to swing the 
 Citizens' League to me. 
 
 {Enter Landon, c.) 
 
 Landon. How are you. Congressman ? 
 
 Arthur. Ah ! Landon ! Glad to see you. {Shakes 
 hands with Landon.) Won't you be seated ? 
 
 Landon {drawin^r up a chair and sitting doivn v..'). I 
 took advantage of recess to call and ask some questions. 
 
 Arthur {laughing^. You always were great on ques- 
 tions, Landon. 
 
 Landon. I've been trying to persuade those fellows that 
 you are a much misunderstood man. 
 
 Arthur. In what way? 
 
 Landon. They have been bothered by those stories the 
 papers have been publishing about you. It's because they 
 don't know, as I do, that you are mcapable of any dirty 
 work. 
 
 Arthur. Thank you. 
 
 Landon. To be perfectly frank, a good many of our 
 men have been boosting Francis, but we realize that he 
 doesn't stand a ghost of a chance 
 
 Arthur. You are frank, Landon. So now you are all 
 at sea ? 
 
 Landon. We certainly can't stand for Peters. He 
 doesn't make any bones of admitting that he's an out-and- 
 out machine man, so we shall have to choose you or stand 
 pat for Francis 
 
 Arthur. Which would help elect Peters. 
 
 Landon. That is what it would amount to. 
 
 Arthur. Landon, you are placing me in a very delicate 
 position. What can Ido? 
 
 Landon. You can give ray friends some assurances. 
 
 Arthur. What assurances ? 
 
 Landon. In the first place, you can give us your word 
 that those stories are false. 
 
 Arthur [rising^. Landon, do you remember that I told 
 you before that those stories were too contemptible to be no- 
 ticed ? 
 
56 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Landon {^disappointed'). Then you won't assist me in 
 the fight I've been making for you ? 
 
 Arthur. You must realize, Landon, that I'm a man, as 
 well as a politician, and you can't blame me if I resent being 
 placed on the rack like a criminal. However, 1 fully ap- 
 preciate your motive. Fire away. 
 
 Landon. Just what are your relations to Mr. Flint? 
 
 Arthur. Frederick Flint has been my friend. I have 
 trusted and respected him, but it may please you to know 
 that recently I have discovered that he is an infernal scoun- 
 drel, and 1 have given myself the pleasure of telling huii so 
 to his face. 
 
 Landon. Hurray ! I thought you would see through 
 Flint some day. 
 
 Arthur. He can deceive me no longer. Now, Landon, 
 you have asked me for some assurances. I may as well tell 
 you frankly that I can only give you the assurance of my 
 good faith and honesty of intention. I've made blunders in 
 my career so far that 1 shall regret to my dying day. I've 
 been the target of the sensational newspapers, but many of 
 the stories printed about me, I can honestly say, have been 
 absolute calumnies. 
 
 Landon. You know I've always stood up for you. 
 
 Arthur. Oh, some of the censure has been deserved. 
 But, no matter how great my mistakes have been, 1 have 
 always been in sympathy with clean politics. My break 
 with Flint will cost me many votes — j^erhaps cost me the 
 nomination, but, if I am elected, I can have the satisfaction 
 of going back to Congress with clean hands and a clear 
 conscience, ready to do my duty wherever I may see it, 
 
 Landon {e7ithusiastically). There ! That's the kind of 
 talk I like to hear ! I'll get right back to the hall and go 
 after it. Flint will undoubtedly strain every nerve to put in 
 Peters. Cheer up, Congressman, all is not lost yet. 
 
 {Shakes ha?ids with Arthur, and exit, c.) 
 
 Arthur {aside). Too bad I didn't have the support of 
 the Citizens' League before. I'm afraid it will come too 
 late now. 
 
 {Enter Marjorie, l., and runs dow7i c.) 
 
 Marjorie. Say ! Mister Busy-man, I've got some news 
 for you. I'm not going to die an old maid after all. 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 57 
 
 ' Arthur (^playfully). Well ! That is news, indeed ! 
 
 Makjokie. George has asked dad and received his con- 
 sent — and we're going to be married — and George is going 
 out of poUtics — and he's going to run the factory — and that 
 is another reason why you'll have to take the law case, and 
 we all hope you won't get nominated — and 
 
 (^E liter Landon, c.) 
 
 Landon. Excuse me, Congressman. May I see you 
 alone ? 
 
 Marjorie. Surest thing you know. I was just going, 
 anyway. 1 tell you what, I'm a pretty busy woman these 
 days ! 
 
 {Exit, L.) 
 
 Landon {handing fteivspaper to Arthur). Have you 
 seen this? {Cofnes down c.) 
 
 Arthur {taking paper — reading). ''Scandal in high 
 politics ! Boss Flint insults wife of Congressman Lawrence I 
 The outcome a probable split in the party. When thieves 
 
 fall out, honest people get their " {Sighing — drops 
 
 paper on table.) That's enough, Landon — the mud-sling- 
 ers are out in full force. 
 
 Landon (l. c). Who did that ? 
 
 Arthur (r. c). That woman reporter on the "Argus." 
 
 Landon. Genevieve McSorley ? 
 
 Arthur. Yes. She attempted to blackmail me first. 
 
 Landon. She isn't above that, either. 1 wonder what 
 effect this will have on your nomination ? May I use the 
 'phone ? 
 
 Arthur. Certainly. 
 
 Landon {startifig r.). I'm going to call up the hall. 
 
 Arthur {suddenly). Landon, I wish you would tell the 
 boys to withdraw my name. 
 
 Landon. You surely cannot be serious. 
 
 Arthur. Never more so. I'm sick of the whole game ! 
 
 Landon. But your duty to the Commonwealth ? 
 
 Arthur. That's just it — if I had only done my duty. 
 
 Landon. Nonsense I 
 
 Arthur. Landon ! I can't stand playing a part any 
 longer. I'm a blackguard. I'm as vile as any of those fel- 
 lows in Washington you've been fighting against. All that 
 woman said in her article is practically true. 
 
58 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Landon. What ! 
 
 Akthuk. 1 was hand in glove with that fellow Flint, 
 until i discovered that he had been making love to my wife. 
 If 1 hadn't found him out 1 shouldn't have had the moral 
 courage to throw him over. 
 
 Landon. Does Mrs. Lawrence know of this? 
 
 Arthur. Yes. 
 
 Landon {Jiesitating). And she ? 
 
 Arthur. 1 don't wonder that you can't say it. No. 
 She hasn't forgiven me. She never will ! 
 
 Landon. Too bad ! 
 
 Arthur. And, of course, I cannot expect to enjoy your 
 confidence any longer. 
 
 Landon. Why not? You have a greater claim on it 
 now than ever. 
 
 Arthur {grasping Landon's hand). Thank you, Lan- 
 don. 1 don't deserve it. 
 
 Landon. 1 know enough about public life to realize 
 wliat tlie temptation must have been. 
 
 Arthur {sadly). And to think that I wasn't strong 
 enough to resist it ! (Recovers liimself.') Call up the hall 
 and tell them — I'll just step outside and get a breath of 
 fresh air — then I'll be ready to start life all over again ! 
 
 {Exit, c.) 
 
 Landon {raisitig receiver). 2983 Bryant. Yes — that's 
 it— 2-9-8-3. Hello! Who's this? Yes? Well, this is 
 Landon. You don't say ? (^///<f/' Gertrude, c. Stands 
 watching Landon. Landon, 'ptwning). Well, I've just 
 had a talk with Congressman Lawrence, and he requests 
 that his name be withdrawn. Will you see to it? All 
 right. That's all. Good-bye. {Hangs up receiver.) 
 
 Gertrude {agitated). Who gave you authority to do 
 that? 
 
 Landon. Mr. Lawrence. 
 
 Gertrude {slowly). He has refused the nomination ? 
 
 Landon. Yes. But of course that will not hinder his 
 return to politics later on. 
 
 Gertrude. Do you think so? 
 
 Landon. We need men like him in Washington. 
 
 Gertrude {sighing jvearily). Heigho ! 
 
 {Comes down L.) 
 
THE CONGRESSMAN 59 
 
 Landon {coming down c). Mrs. Lawrence — I hope 
 you'll pardon uie if 1 speak of something — something ihat 
 is — well, that concerns you very closely. 1 do it only be- 
 cause 1 believe in Mr. Lawrence, and because I care for his 
 future and his happiness, and for yours, if you'll let me 
 say so. 
 
 Gertrude. Thank you, Mr. Landon. You've been 
 very good to Mr. Lawrence. He has often spoken of all 
 you have done. 
 
 Landon. Oh, that's nothing. But — he — he has told me 
 all about that man Flint. 
 
 Gertrude {star tied). What ! 
 
 Landon. He hasn't spared himself. I think he's even 
 ma(ie the case out worse than it really is. 
 
 Gertrude. And you still — you ? 
 
 Landon. Yes. 1 believe in him. I believe he has 
 been sufficiently punished for whatever wrong he has done. 
 There are plenty of men in public life who have made mis- 
 takes like his — some of them have since done fine work. 
 
 Gertrude. Why have you spoken to me about this ? 
 
 {^Crosses R. to him.') 
 
 Landon. Because — well, because I suspect, from what 
 Mr. Lawrence has said, that you are not in complete sym- 
 pathy with his public life. 
 
 Gertrude. That is true. I haven't been, lately. 
 
 Landon, And I thought perhaps if you looked at things 
 a little differently 
 
 Gertrude. 1 shouldn't be so harsh ? 
 
 Landon. Not exactly that — I thought perhaps you'd 
 help him to get back where he belongs, that's all. It's 
 going to be a hard fight. Most men wouldn't have the 
 nerve to undertake it. But he has, if you'll only help him. 
 
 Gertrude. You make me feel ashamed. If you can 
 forgive him, after all you've done for him 
 
 {Loud huzzahs heard, c.) 
 
 (^Enter Arthur ^z;/</ Graham, c, ann in arm, followed by 
 Henderson. Marjorie and George rush in, l., and 
 come down, L.) 
 
 Marjorie. AVhat was all that noise, dad ? 
 
60 THE CONGRESSMAN 
 
 Arthur {coming to Gertrude, down k.). Gertrude, 
 I've lost the nomination. 
 
 Graham {coming down, l.). And I've gained a lawyer 
 for my case. 
 
 Marjorie {presenting George). And a bright young 
 man to manage the factory. 
 
 Gertrude ( goijig to Arthur, and holding his hands'). 1 
 am so glad, Arthur. 
 
 Arthur {delighted). What! You will forgive ? 
 
 Gertrude. Yes, Arthur, for now we can start life all 
 over again 
 
 Arthur. And start right. {His hand strikes the lump 
 of ore on table. He picks it up.) Henderson {handing ore 
 to Henderson), you may toss this into the street. 
 
 (Henderson takes ore and exit, c. Arthur takes Ger- 
 trude /;/ his arms.) 
 
 Tableau 
 
 Arthur Graham 
 
 Gertrude Marjorie 
 
 Landon George 
 
 curtain 
 
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