THE WASTREL HOARD A DRAMA OF THE GREATER LOVE £^{SitSS!i^:;H BY FRANK HENDRICK Class _^^_S5i^ Copyright xN' ^^/^ COPYRIGHT deposit: THE WASTREL HOARD All rights reserved. The Wastrel Hoard A DRAMA OF THE GREATER LOVE by Frank Hendrick Of the New York Bar, First Ricardo Priie Fellow in Harvard University Author of "Railway Control by Commission," "The Power to Regulate Corporations and Commercx," "The Common Law of the United States/' "Policies, Reaction, and the Constitution," "The Contribution of American Women to the Work of Lincoln," "The Adequate Man," Etc., Etc. 'There is that in the least of mortals which is God.' PURITAN PLAY COMPANY New York 1916 COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY FRANK HENDRICK, * all rights reserved Set Up and Electrotyped. Published April, 1916. This play has been copyrighted and published in the United States and Great Britain. All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian. All acting rights, both professional and amateur, are reserved, in the United States, Great Britain, and all coun- tries of the Copyright Union, by Frank Hendrick. Per- formances forbidden and right of representation reserved. Piracy or infringement will be prosecuted in accordance with penalties provided by the United States Statutes. Sec. 4966. — Any person publicly performing or representing any dramatic or musical composition for which copyright has been ob- tained, without the consent of the proprietor of the said dramatic or musical composition, or his heirs or assigns, shall be liable for dam- ages therefor, such damages in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less than one hundred dollars for the first and fifty dollars for every subsequent performance, as to the Court shall appear to be just. If the unlawful performance and representation be wilful and for profit, such person or persons shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction be imprisoned for a period not exceeding one year. — U. S. Revised Statutes, Title 60, Chapter 3. Persons desiring to read this play professionally or in public should first apply to the author. Ml 21 1916 ''Tliat is the most perfect popular government tvhere the hast injury done to the meanest individual is considered as an insult on the whole constitution." Solon. ''The end of the hist or n of the ivorld is the formation of the most perfect state constitution/' Kant's 1'roject of Perpetual Peace. ''Ml/ Country — is the World! My Countrymen — all Mankind/' William Lloyd Garrison. "We hold these truths to he self-evident, that all men are created equal; that they are endowed hy their Creator icith certain unalienable riffhts; that among these, are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." The Declaration of Independence. Were half the power that fills the world ivith terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals and forts. Longfellow. ^'You may build your Capitol of granite and pile it as high as the Rocky Mountains; if it is founded on or mixed up with iniquity, the pulse of a girl trnll in time beat it down." Wendell Phillips. TO EUGENE NOBLE FOSS Apostle of National Prohibition of the Liquor Traffic and Worker for National Americanism The wisest liberal American statesman of his time Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts Three times elected without reference to partisanship Upon the two principles of "Public Control of Public Property" and "International Reciprocity" Who, in his annual message to the Legislature, in January, 1913, expressed, in defiance of the violent and almost overwhelming protests of the interested, prejudiced, and uninformed, the following prophetic, wise, and lofty sentiment: "I recommend that the Legislature memorialize the Congress to open the Panama Canal free of tolls to the ships of all nations as a gift of the United States to the cause of commercial freedom and an earnest of our purpose to lead in the movement for true international reciprocity and the abandonment of the policy of retaliation. The cost of international strain and strife is out of all proportion to any possible advantage; the possible benefits of international generosity are too great to be measured." THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. Mart Flint, an American girl. John Morse, a United States Senator. Mrs. Morse, his wife. Alice Morse, their da lighter. Russell Turner, a lawyer. Foster Bullard, a lobbyist. Samuel Flint, Mary's father. Victor Chance, a young multimillionaire. Robert Thorburn, his attorney. Mrs. Havorbee, a suffragette, and Victor's aunt. NoRAH, a maid. Katy, a servant. James, a servant. Hugo Gulp, telegraph operator at The Hague Tribunal. Sir Richard Dexter, British member of the Tribunal. Monsieur Ledoux, the French member. Baron Liebig von Speidel, the German member. Count Pskov, the Russian member. Mr. Wells, the American member. Mr. Spencer-Pryce, the British agent. Coetright, a Secret Service man. Musicians, (hicsts, Servants, Pages, Attendants, and Spectators. SYNOPSIS OF SCENES. ACT I. Music room of Senator Morse's residence in New York City. TIME: January, 1912, at half past six in the evening. ACT II. Same (w Act I. TIME: Fifteen minutes after the close of Act I. ACT III. Palace of Peace at The Hague. TIME: June 28th, 191 If, at eleven in the morning. ACT IV. Same as Act III. TIME: Immediately after the close of Act III. ACT V. Senator Morse's library. TIME: July Ifth, 191/f, at eleven in the morning. ACT 1. Before the rising of the curtain, the orchestra plays selections from Tosca, the ''Taian" arrangement, icith emphasis upon and recurrence to the grand air ''Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore." non fi - ti mid ma- tead a-vi-nn oi-val Con mm jio' - H - ea tat «T-er have harm - ed • liv-mg be-ingi The poor md (U*-tra«M, ^009 aiXdr^^con anma MO) . tt •b - s« - fit CO- nob-bijC' a - to'- t (jmc* witti-cai oaflber, by staalfli I have aid • ed. «. BBATTT-KIBOSTfW e ii i i> n— «>T if iii« »»., PROLOGUE. Here's to Motherhood ! Woman's salvation, happiness, and avatar, Source of humanity, heaven, and eternity, Man's inheritance from all the past So greater than the richest hoard That none with it can man afford, Lest hoard not man shall everlast, Surviving in a dead posterity, Lacklustered as a fallen star. Then- Here's to Motherhood I THE WASTREL HOARD ACT I. The curtain rises on the music room of the residence of United States Senator John Morse on upper Fifth Ave- nue, in New York City. Left and right are doors, both opening inward. Stage divided from right to left hy wall which is open from right centre to left centre, disclosing a banquet room. This door is off the centre and to the left, right and left being indicated from the players' viewpoint. The banquet room is upon a higher level, and is reached by four steps. The steps are carpeted with the dark green velvet car- pet which covers the floor of the music room. Heavy draperies, drawn together, shut off from view the banquet room, until, a few moments after the rising of the curtain, they are drawn aside. There is a door in the centre of the back of the banquet room, leading into the library. There is "distance" between the front of the stage and this door. It is half -past six in the even- ing of a clear moonlight night in January. At the right, occupying a part of the right of the back, is a deep, circular, bow window, equivalent almost to an alcove. About the window is a window-seat. Outside, window- boxes, planted with wintergreen plants, are visible. Through this window may be distinguished the tops of trees in Central Park and the outlines of the coping of the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. During the first, second, and fifth acts, the sound of the traffic of taxi-cabs, motor cars, and 'buses penetrates from without. In the corner at the left is a table with a tele- phone and an electric lamp upon it, and a high-backed wooden chair before it. In the centre is a circular divan. At the right, near the large bow window, is a baby grand piano, open, loith a stack of sheet music 10 THE WASTREL HOARD. lying upon it. The piano faces so that the player's back is turned to the audience. This corner contains chairs and stands for a small string orchestra and is screened and half concealed by palms and potted plants. In front of these plants is a sofa. This decoration is so arranged that by removing one object the person seated at the pia7io is brought into view of the audience. The hinges of the doors at either side of the stage are omthe line of the palms. When the musicians make their en- trance they enter by the door at right. The entrance of guests or others from the left is preceded by the sound of an electric elevator. The necessary sound of the elevator returning to its station after the entrance of characters is not indicated in the stage directions. The music room is not lighted. Moonlight falls through the bow windoiD upon the decoration in the music 7'oom. As the curtain rises and a little before, just after the theatre orchestra has ceased playing, a sojjrano voice is heard, accompanied by the piano, in runs, trills, and warming-up exercises. Seated at the piano, but not visible to the audience, is Mary Flint^ a very pretty girl of ticenty-two. As she sings, the draperies of the door leading to the banquet room are drawn aside and two servants, James and Katy^ are seen placing small American flags at each place at the dining table. The banquet room is dimly lighted. Moonlight falls upon the table. The servants listen to the singing from time to time and exchange glances of appreciation. The door of the opposite side of the stage opens and Russell Turner, a man of thirty, enters and takes a few steps into the room. Throughout the play, Russell is re- served and self-contained. He gives the impression of the silent man of few words, of turbulent spirit, under practiced repression, overcome by bash fulness, and made gentle by much chastening, of impulsiveness checked by shyness, but of indomitable purpose and latent power. THE WASTREL HOARD. 11 In the soft speech of Russell and of Mary the acute ear will detect the inheritance of New England. Russell does not note the presence of the servants. Mary does not observe Russell^s entrance. One of the servants stealthily approaches the other, places his hand to his mouth, and lohispers into the other's car, at the same time nodding toward Russell. Russell,, perceiving that he is unnoticed by Mary, stoics and listens as she begins to sing, "Absent," by Mctcalf and Glen. She sings : A TDOpr'M''T' JOHN W METCALP. ICATcmi.vt rovxo eitHi trut. ftrmittiv Aadante molto. J "^jbe .tall trees whis- per, whis . per beart to cresa J TbUk. log I bear tbee caDI. Copyright, 1899, by Arthur P. Schmidt. Used by permission 12 THE WASTREL HOARD. Suddenly Mary stops and hursts into tears, hows her head in a manner indicating dejection, and sohs. The SERVANTS are all attention, and are ready to appear sym- pathetic if observed. Rising from the piano, Mary notes for the first time the presence of the servants, comes out and takes a few steps into the room. She is dressed in white. It is noticeable that her gown, though simple and effective, is not of the raging fashion. Mary is of that figure which makes an American girl who is neither short nor tall, slim nor stout, seem dynamic and dauntless. She appears to he struggling against depres- sion. Russell, I heard your voice. Mary, [Looking up in pleased surprise, hut speaking with a polite reserve horn of consciousness of the pres- ence of the servants.] How do you do? How is the Pacific Canal fight going? [The servants, at the sound of voices, complete their work hurriedly.] EussELL, Quite nicely, thank you. [Mary glances at the servatits to apprise Russell of their presence, and continues to speak tvith re- straint and for their benefit. A chime clock in the library hack of the banquet room is heard to strike once for the half-hour. A moment later a smaller clock strikes twice for the half -hour.] Mary, Are you going to have a square deal in Washing- ton or leave it to The Hague? [The departure of the servants hy a side door, not visible, leading from the banquet room, is indi- cated by the sound of closing the door.] Russell. The Hague! If my old friend Hugo Van Deventer is there, look out for a square deal ! De Groot I Mary. [Assured that the servants have gone.] Russell ' TEE WASTREL HOARD. 13 Russell. [Restraining an impulse to show affection.] Mary! Maey. You have been away three days. [A clock in a room ahove, larger, it seems, strikes twice for the half hour.] Russell. I'm glad to get back. Mary. How did you know you would find me here to- night? Russell. I didn't. I asked the maid if I was the first arrival. She said you had gone upstairs. [A very loud chime, of the hall clock on the floor helow, is heard to strike once.] Mary. I left Alice dressing. I came down here because I was lonesome — then I wanted to be alone — and play Russell. And sing? Mary. My dream is of acting. Russell. Sing tonight. An angel may appear. Mary. There loill be a devil. Russell. It's not the Senator. [Mary goes up to the table and around to a seat facing the audience, picks up a place-card, and, returning, hands it to Russell.] Mary. The author of my being! Russell. Who? Mary. Father! Little red school mates! T^eaZ chums! Russell. I thought it was a friendship through their wives. Mary. That, too, but— well — mother tried just her level best with father— but he wore her out— and— she has had to give in. Russell. That brings you closer to her — and to Alice. Mary. Daughters chums at college. Russell. And in the big city. Mary. In altered circumstances. [Mary sits down on the sofa at the end near the piano. Russell remains stand- 14 THE WASTREL HOARD. ing.] One day six months ago, I started to drag myself afoot up Fifth Avenue Russell. For exercise ! Mary. For want of carfare — after a whole day of man- agers' offices, with nothing to eat, I was going home — to that quaint Dutch settlement called Harlem — to cook for myself — a beef stew — with some of the ingredients miss- ing — when Alice in her auto fairly whisked me home with her, and, right in that room, I sat down to the best dinner I ever ate. Russell. That's Alice. Mary. I kept wishing it for all whose heads were ach- ing with hunger as mine had been. [Mary becomes thoughtful; Russell studies her.] Russell. [Sitting down beside Mary.] That was you. Mary. I can't forget that dinner. [Mary smiles.] I had received a letter from mother that morning. She urged me to eat regularly. [Mary smiles sadly.] If mother only knew! [Mary looks into Russell's eyes.] I have a con- stant craving for food now which makes me feel for every poor devil I see. It is an awful thought that lack of food for only a few hours makes even a strong man ill. What must it be to see one's children hunger ! Russell. [Taking Mary's hands.] One touch of hunger makes the whole world kin. Mart. [Closing her eyes and repeating dreamily, as if in an echo] " — the whole world kin I" [JMary opens her eyes and starts as if awakened.] Hunger! My hunger! [Expressively.] No. It is deeper than tliat [After a moment of searching gaze into Russell^s eyes, Mary turns her head away, as if in thought, then arouses herself, looks at Russell, and then makes a resolve to change the subject.] Alice Morse [Mary disengages her hands and rises] has certainly been a friend. Russell. [Rising.] In need! THE WASTREL HOARD. 15 Mary. [Wistfully.] Now I have you. EussELL. Aud though jou live at the Junior League yourself, you have a plan to right the world's wrongs in the settlement. Philosophy for wage-earners I They need it I Mary. I wanted to help at father's mills. He wanted me to marry, a very rich, aud very reputable, and very old person — to assure my "great happiness I" KussELL. Did he? Mary. Yes. He wanted to make sure of my future — to weight me down. When life is such a wonderful thing I Yet the world holds it so lightly. Just think, three hun- dred thousand needless deaths of infants in this country every year. Russell. Father ivill approve your plan. [Mary dis- plays annoyance, tcalks nervously toward the banquet room, and examines the seating arrangement. Russell follows her.] It will be a good recognition scene when you meet. [Russell replaces the card and stands at the table. Mary and Russell talk across the table as Mary moves about.] Mary. Not exactly Lear and his dear child, Cordelia. You know my father does not approve of me. Russell. That can't be true. Mary. He thinks me not entirely — rational. Russell. Anybody would applaud your helping ^ Mary. My father holds as nothing the honor, comfort, and fate of a sex, a class, or a race that is not his own. That indifference is his weapon. Russell. That's a double-edged sword, Mary. And I told him there are no natural barriers be- tween human beings, and that I didn't recognize artificial ones. / disapproved of his idea of aristocracy. At bottom we are all alike. Americans are a composite — a neutral race ! Our wheels within wheels should be broken ; nature has none; she just enfolds us all in one great circumference I Russell. That's beautiful ! One great felloeship I 16 THE WASTREL HOARD, Mary. But he's a professional American. And I dared to express disapproval of his kind of Americanism. Russell. Humanity is not yet a cosmopolitan senti- ment. It is parochial — like the tariff, a local issue. Mary. That shouldn't make Americans provincial. Good Americans distrust professionals of any race. They hold off and stand apart, they don't join in, they resist good influences, they flock by themselves, they don't get together, they don't assimilate. I said to father: "I have united in me every strain of western civilization. How do you expect me to harbor prejudices — or tolerate them?" I quoted Paul to him : "There can be neither Jew nor Greek, there can be neither bond nor free, there can be no male and female; for ye are all one man in Christ Jesus." Russell. And that made him mad ! Like all our peo- ple, you can be nothing but an American. In every one of us is the blood of millions of ancestors. Mary. And that before he married mother, he hadn't a cent himself. Money is quickly gained and lost. Russell. H'm ! But what's once in the blood doesn't come out. It may be assumed everything is in everybody. Mary. Is that hopeful — or otherwise? Russell. Hopeful — very ! If it wasn't good blood, it wouldn't be here. It is heir of all the ages. Mary. I've known some people who felt themselves the heirs of a million earls. Russell. If they were they wouldn't be alive to tell it. Only three generations are required to make a man into a gentleman; thereafter the decline is progressive. Social aristocracy is like a hill of potatoes. The best part of it is underground. The gentleman who said America is not a fit country for a gentleman to live in was right ! Mary. Then, perhaps, I am perfectly well-born, after all. Father hadn't any religion either. Russell. That can be acquired — and abandoned. Mary. And now, as for having me sing, his choice would be from Moody and Sankey. THE WASTREL HOARD. 17 Russell. He is — religious! Mary. Two things would bring father to New York — a political convention or a religious revival — and whichever he attends, he thinks it is the other. He's a silver-tongued orator and an exhorter combined. But before politicians he talks nothing but church, and in meeting he talks noth* ing but politics. Russell. That's not unusual. Religion and politici now have the same object. Mary. What is that? Russell. Politics. [Mary gives Russell a questioning look.] Mary. Politics! That is only a name! I've always wondered ichat this vile tissue of petty trick and intrigue icas concealing. Religion and politics — the bubbling caul- dron — always a crime-breeding mixture! Russell. [Avoiding the issue.] The Senator's dinners are not prayer meetings. Mary. Then the reason for your presence is purely political? Russell. No, politically pure. [By this time they have come together in front of the table. Mary looks up at Russell quickly as if to take advantage of a long-aioaited opening.] Mary. Not if Foster Bullard Russell. [Without conviction and attempting to con- veal nervousness.] Why, Bullard doesn't need me. He likes me. Mary. That doesu't sound like you. Russell. He saw me the day I was born — in the hos- pital. Mary. Now he has an object! I am sure of it. Russell. Well, everybody wants our ships exempt from Canal tolls. Mary. "Everybody," perhaps, doesn't understand it 18 THE WASTREL HOARD. Why didn't Bullard become a doctor and let public affairs alone? KussELL. He told me once. I asked him when I was planning my own career. [Russell speaks in a manner to he identified later as that of Bullard.] "My father was a physician," he said, "and would have me one. I finished and qualified and was ready to step into a Beacon Hill practice;, provided with select, even elite, patients to start upon, but I couldn't stand the domestic strain; I was near to mother; we had lived the Bible through together from cover to cover; by it, she judged father; Calvinist and Unitarian; she hadn't softened; I sided with her, and then, to preserve peace, left religion behind and came — to New York. Here my fate consigned me to obstetrics, and I saw in the birth of little children the alpha and omega of revealed religion and that all the rest was a pious fraud. I saw too many little creatures lost and, not being averse to occasional making of angels but not being just fond of it as a steady thing, I gave up my profession in order to reform it. I conceived the notion that private practice is wrong and left medicine for politics, in order to reform both. My idea was that it is as necessary for the public as for the individual that the individual should have good health and that if nobody could secure better treatment than anybody, everybody would soon have everything it is good for anybody to have. Poverty is the greatest foe to health, and I couldn't cure poverty by treating individuals. I couldn't even cure my own. That — I mean my poverty — lost me something else — I'll tell you what some day — and reform seemed hopeless. I made out soon that what ailed everything was politics and at about the same time I found that politics was an ailment I had, too. By the time I gave up trying to cure i)Overty by politics, my last — illusion — was gone. I then discerned that health is mental and moral as well as physical and that almost no one possessed it — and least of all myself. And I knew politics; where others dabbled, I dived. The community as a whole I THE WASTREL HOARD. 19 found morbid and / left it — to its fate !" That is Low he advised me not to take up medicine, but to study law, and, to show good faith, he took up law himself at the same time. He really put me, in the law, where I am to-day. Mary. And in politics! He is not attempting a cure by that route I He meant himself, not politics, was failing ! Russell. Oh, Bullard is all right. He watched and warded a poor youngster for thirty years. [Russell picks up the card at the second place from that of Mary^s father and shotos it to Mary.] He's not so bad. You'll see. You'll meet him here tonight. He only wants a square deal for the interests he represents. Mary^. The old story. If to help me you've had to work with them Russell. [Turning the edge of her thrust as if lightly.] Well — somebody had to Mary. But Russell. And / wanted to. Mary. [Turning away from him and starting to walk to front of the stage.] I keep thinking there is something wrong about it all. I don't like this Pacific business. I have had many talks with Senator Morse. He has told me Russell. [Gutting in on her speech as if unioilling to hear, and looking down at another place-card.] Foster Bullard knows young Chance, too. Mary. [Pretending not to have heard him.] — that this canal completes for the first time a direct water-path across the world. Russell. [Looking down at another card.] Is it to meet the suffrage leader? Mary. The Canal? Russell. Victor Chance? Mary. No. Mrs. Havorbee is his aunt. It is Alice. Russell. He was here that day I first saw you. Mary. Do you know him? Russell. Bullard says we met under his care our first 20 THE WASTREL HOARD. day apart from our parents. You know Bullard says hi$ name [Raising the place-card] is on my certificate. Mary. [With covert interest.] Did you ever examine the record? Russell. No. Besides, they are secret. The law forbids disclosure — except to parents. The law takes notice of the fact that the world is a natural busybody. [ Thoughtfully. ] What it doesn't know, hurts nobody. [Mary hesitates a moment and seems to weigh thi$ information and to determine to change the sub- ject.] Mary. Had you and Victor Chance never met in the meantime? Russell. Our paths parted then and there. Each was returned to his respective mother. Mary. But in thirty years ! Russell. Caste! Mary. You both went to college. That brings boys to- gether. Russell. Study was of his life a thing apart. Mary. It was your whole existence, wasn't it? Russell. I doubt if he knew ten men outside of Keys. Mary. That secret society business is carried pretty far at Yale. Russell. And, of course, living for and on free scholar- ships at Harvard, I was worlds removed from his set. Mary. But that shouldn't continue afterward. Russell. It is worse. That is what it's for. I was further away than ever. He took the high road and I took the low road. Mary. Why didn't you speak of it that day? Russell. Most improper! And I thought he admired you. Mary. Baby ! He has too many millions Russell. There you have it. But Bullard had my picture taken on my second birthday and gave it to me in THE WASTREL HOARD. 21 this locket. [Russell takes a locket from Jtis icatch-chain, opens it, and hands it to Mary.] BuUard didn't grow away from me! Maey. What a glorious child ! Give it to me ! Russell. But you would never accept jewelry. Mary. But this is my gem, isn't it? Russell. If you will accept it. [Russell helps Mary to place the locket upon a chain she tvears about her neck.] Mary. [Examining the locket.] July 4th, 1881. And two American beys! Both free and equal! But orphans! But you two boys are now once more where you started, both orphans. Your parents and "Golden" Chance and his sweet wife — all dead! Russell. Bullard makes me forget that. Mary. By absorbing your talent and Chance's money. Benevolent assimilation like this Pacific business ! Russell. You — are not — to blame — for that! [Russell replaces Bullard^s card and followi Mary. His attitude is playful and Mary assumes the same manner. They come down into the music room, walking side hy side, facing the audience.] Mary. I — thought — I — had to have — things to wear. Russell. Or give up. Mary. And obey my father ! Russell. Perhaps you don't go at him right. Mary. He wounded my pride. That is the worst hurt ! Russell. Pride can be made an inexpensive luxury. There is a saving pride as well as that which "goeth before a fall." Mary. He refused to support my ambition. He gave ten thousand dollars to the church, just to prove that it wasn't mean. "By the ever-living God," he shouted, "not a dollar will I contribute to send my daughter into danger." He's wonderful when he gets fired up like that. He's great- est when he has [Mary imitates; she comes a step forward 22 THE WASTREL HOARD. raises her right arm in gesticulation, turns on Russell and addresses him as her audience] "the whole country march- ing onward to the time of 'Hail Columbia' and the tune of 'Home, Sweet Home.' " [Lowering her voice.] He's the handsomest and the hardest man I ever saw. Russell. He is your father. It must be wonderful to have one's parents living! / scarcely remember my par- ents. A father Mary. Mine was my king — until he tried to rule me. Russell. [Baffled^ hut trying to appear sympathetic] He thinks your purpose frivolous. Mary. A father who thinks is lost. Russell. And if he doesn't? Mary. On the one occasion when father demonstrated real affection for me, I almost swooned with delight. I had to buy my freedom. I taught in Sunday School, played the organ, led the singing, and sang solos for a whole season of revival, and did everything about the church but preach the sermons, as the price of permission to come to New York to study for the stage. Father feared local criticism and tried to back out, so I had to run away. And now I'm not going home until I have justified myself. Russell. Beware of the fixed idea. Mary. [With an air of finality.] A good idea can*t be too fixed. [She sits down on the sofa.] Father would be the first to boast of my success. He says he denies me money now so that he may leave me well provided for when he's gone. Great Heavens ! Why must so many fly through life with a broken wing ! The man can*t understand what it means. [Maby buries her face in her hands. Russell tits down on the sofa, beside Maby.] Russell. What does it mean? Mary. It means that daughters like me have essentials in common with all the disinherited of the earth — we are thwarted of our ambitions, our lives, our — possibilities — THE WASTREL HOARD. 23 just to please those who have had theirs. Father met a girl once, when he took me, as a half-grown girl, to inspect Galloway Hall, where Alice and I were to go, as our mothers had before us — and this girl's mother, too. [Rus- sell evinces increasimj interest.] And he forever after held her up to me as a model. She had no parents; they had both died young — both from the heart, I believe mother said. Father knew them, too. He couldn't under- stand that I was the opposite of their girl in everything, and couldn't pattern myself upon her. She was sweet but inanimate and her skin was like alabaster. She seemed to me all surface — that appeals to father — it does to most men — and, without really knowing the girl, just from father's praise and my notion she wasn't — true, — a real — flesh -and-blood — live girl, I grew up resenting and almost hating the very name of Laura Lord, [Russell starts upon heating the name; Mary does not take note] and wishing fervently that she might be transported to a better world than this, to be a model for the other angels. Russell. Please him now. Be diplomatic. Be a singer. [Mary looks up and smiles at Russell.] Mary. Melba? I say, Duse. The New York climate isn't favorable for American singers. I would have my lieart only upon the very highest I Think of the disappoint- ment I What's the use of trying I Besides, I prefer acting. Consciousness of tragic situations dominates me. Russell. But there's acting in music. Sometimes the singer seems radiant with light and fairly dissolves into the meaning. Mary. [Kindled.] Always with our lovely Brenstedt! Then all nature seems a temple that is within us, alight with living pillars, where wondrous rainbow flashes, sound- ing as from watch-towers of the world's experience, enter the dark recesses of our being, lay bare our hearts, bring out the hidden motives of the soul, and light up for us, as if for our inward eye, the whole panorama of human life. 24 THE WASTREL HOARD. I sometimes feel that if I am — ever — stirred to the depths, this great power to act in music may come to me. EussELL. Isn't it worth while to move toward that ob- ject? Mary. A bird mnst hop before it learns to soar. [Be- coming thoughtful.] Miss Chrysalis comes before Madame Butterfly. BussELL. But even when a bird is walking, we know it has wings. Mary. [Coming out of her reverie.] I've had a hard time to get where I am today, and I'm not going to give it up. Please, tell me that you think I will succeed. Russell. The first thing I ever told you was that I be- lieved in you. Maey. But you wanted to encourage me. Being an understudy is not inspiring. Russell. The world's work is done by understudies. If it wasn't for the working undersecretaries nothing would go right. It's the big bugs that make the big blun- ders. Every important interest depends upon the man just below the man higher up. He prepares to do that man's work — by always doing it. Mary. What about that man? Russell. He is not a man. He is only money. He is the underwriter. Mary. I see it, now! He's the politics! You work for money — ^you think for money — you lorite for others to Russell. You mustn't talk like that. [The telephone rings. Russell goes to answer it. He turns on the electric lamp. Maey watches him, walks to him at the telephone, and returns to her seat before the end, always thoughtful.] Hello. Yes, Mr. Bullard. This is Russell. Calling me? Didn't you think I was in Washington? Your informa- tion service is certainly perfect. Every agency in the world retained? Oh! Not to find out anything? For others? Yours is adequate for you, all right. Well, I finished my work there; it was useless to wait around — I did what X THE WASTREL HOARD. 25 went for. I took up the Pacific argument with Count Al- berg, went over the new documents and the list of members under German influence. We went over the whole situa- tion and decided how to proceed. I called at the Baldwin- Smythes' and left the papers with the social secretary. I then gave each of the other Ambassadors the ar- gument agreed upon, and two to the Papal delegate, one for use with Catholics from the Continent, and one for Irish-Americans. I hammered the argument home in each case. What's that? Oh, "trifles make perfection." Well, I was thorough enough. We manu- factured original news dispatches from every capital in Europe for every day in the next thirty. Boiler-plate? — Yes ! — A month's supply for a hundred million people ! — Patent insides — that's it ! — Yes ! — For the heads of the dear public! I arranged for more press matter than can be used in a month. I had it translated for the foreign press into twenty-seven languages for papers reaching one-half of the voting population of the United States, with head-lines for those under subsidy — Divide and rule? — Yes. — That seems to be the idea. — And I saw to the mailing of data to every educator on our list with in- structions to those under retainer. If it had been neces- sary to stay longer, I should have done so. — All right — I'll be here. — Good-bye! [Russell puts up receiver, walks hack to the sofa, holding his chin in his right hand.] He said it would be all right. He always says that. He is a sort of fatalist. [Sitting down beside Mary.] Yet, he ap- peared displeased because I came back. Mary. But it won't be all right. Things are never right unless people make them right. [Mary rises; Russell follows suit.'[ Russell. What ! Mary. I want to know who's behind Bullard. Who is underwriting him? RussEivL. I never asked him. 26 THE WASTREL HOARD. Mart. I'm going to find out. There is something wicked going on and you are helping. I know you are working in the dark, but you shouldn't be willing to. You have been understudy long enough. After what you have done all by yourself, you ought to be ashamed to accept money to stay outside — in the lobby. Be yourself, go into the fight, and try to be a leader ! [Mary sits down; Russell sits beside her.] Russell. Your leading man? Is that an aspiration? ]\1ary. No. The country's leading man. Put some heart into American citizenship. Take that dash out. Russell. Dash? — H'm! — The snobbish hyphen! — Or, perhaps, the alien? They all keep people apart! Mary. Both ! Russell. But — the feminist hyphen? [Half pleading, half mocking, half offering.] Don't be heartless, Mary. [Mary^s eyes flash loith a suddenly acquired reso- lution. ] Mary. I do not intend to marry! Russell. Every girl If there were no marriages there'd be no race. Mary. That doesn't follow. The modern girl's great impulse is to become the best she is fit for. Russell. A tadpole or a tyrant could make the same plea. TJicy are — equally — divine and immortal. [With tremendous seriousness.] I wish you Avere out of it all. Mary. Freed through marriage? [Rising] Emanci- pated as a daughter only "to dwindle into a wife!'' [Rus- sell rises.] I am independent now. I'm directing my own affairs — and some of yours, too. Russell. You should let me depend upon my own ef- forts Mary. Stand on your own feet. Quit Bullard. Russell. I can't quit until the Pacific Bill is passed. Mary. Why, that very measure should bring you to the people's side. Give Bullard his answer tonight! THE WASTREL HOARD. 27 Russell. And you? Where does the stage fit in this scheme? Mary. Well, you haven't understood me yet. You think my desire to act is merely vanity, Russell. What else is there in it? Mary. Why, j)atriotism — downright patriotism — in the stage, as it interests me. I see not the individual but ag- gregate humanity, and I see acted language as the breath of life. I would make the stage communicate images of eocial life. I've always lived in an atmosphere of politics and public questions, voiceless, yet never heard any matter considered from a point of view a girl could accept. It's that I wish to express. I am sure there is need for it. The* human nature that is now mirrored — in a dirty mirror, that reflects only the surface dimly — as cheap and vulgar and revolting, is not what is deep within us. The reflection should light up and mirror in rays that the impure cannot withstand. The stage is the only place where a woman's individuality is recognized, and where she can really be her bigger self. The stage should reflect the girl's vision. It is the only open avenue for a woman who would be a leader of public opinion. Russell. I don't see that. Mary. If there hadn't been actors, there wouldn't have been any Shakespeare, would there? Or any other of the great plays? There never was a great play that didn't sound the depths of human suffering and in defiance of all else argue the divine cause of humanity. The playwright must write for the players who can vitalize his play and make him really see his people and hear his written words made flesh and blood and thus get his message over to the public. The woman's message never has been, but must be expressed. Stage women who see and feel the times may inspire our drama and, thus, guide the public. Isn't that wielding personal power? Isn't that what your own under- writers pay for? What other excuse for existence has the theatre of a great nation than to express national aspira- 28 THE WASTREL HOARD. tions! I don't see the goal clearly yet, but — [Closing her eyes as if in delight] I have had my vision and I'm groping toward the light. [Mary opens her eyes and looks at Rus- sell. She pauses as if confronted with a choice between the vision she has just recalled and another. RussEll studies her with awakened interest. Mary gives a sign of having made her choice. Russell seems crestfallen. Mary proceeds with an air of being resolute.] I'll keep on until I find it. But I'll not sell out the public as the men do. [Mary speaks more softly.] Art can never be selfish. The dramatic form is the supreme test of a social idea, and its best vehicle. The theatre should be made so useful that all the churches could be closed and turned into playhouses for the public good. "On the level" patriotic preaching hasn't been a monologue since the time of Aeschylus — twenty-four hundred years ago. Perhaps — if I make a success on the stage — I'll [Mary walks to the piano and sits down. Russell follows and stands near her, bending over the piano at the curve and facing the audience. In getting to this position he arranges the decoration so that Mary becomes visible to the audience. As she sings, in turning to look up at Russell, from time to time, she half faces the audience.] Russell. [Eagerly.] Will you? Mary. [Half seriously, half coquettishly.] Work for the other thing. [She gives him a look of tenderness.] At any rate, you have made me feel — that I must keep up my music, too. Russell. [Standing icith eyes intent upon her, as if slowly absorbing her thought.] What a big woman you are, and what a blind fool I've been ! I ought to be ashamed of myself. Mary. You're a dear. [She runs over the first bars of ''0 Belle 'Nuit," and sings to throw off his gaze.] THE WASTREL HOARD. 29 Lovely night, oh, night of love, Smile down on our caresses, Kight more lovely than the day, Lovely night of love. Time flies on without return, And carries our embraces, Far from this most happy hour, To come again nevermore. Soft summer-night breeze. Fold us in with your kisses. The balm of your breath On our foreheads let play. Lovely night, oh, night of love. Smile down on our caresses, Night more lovely than the day, O lovely night of love. Russell. You're always like that to me. Mary. It's your own work ! [She observes that he is ngain in a spell] You came into my life in the harmony of my favorite theme — from Schumann's Sonata in F sharp minor. Fate put you on my telephone, while I was playing it in a dream. I saw a rushing waterfall and heard the tinkling sound of water falling from a great height. tntermetto. Lento. aJlatarla, ma pompon [Mary plays the theme, the eight bars and the first three bars and the first note of the fourth re- peated.] The bell rang at the high note and I saw you standing 30 THE WASTREL HOARD. on the edge of the precipice and almost heard your voice before I awoke. It was one of Fate's splendid blunders. My heart opened to you, and to a new world at the sound of your voice. [She unconsciously runs over "Mon coeur s'ouvre a ta voix" from "Samson and Delilah."] Russell. When we met a moment in the hall down- stairs here next day, I knew your voice. Mary. And I yours. And you had remembered that wrong number. I did dream true ! Russell. And I called it again. [Mary sings at first softly, then louder. Russell arouses himself, walks around so as to stand be- side her, comes gradually into the singing, and they end together.] Mary. My heart expands at thy loved voice, As flowers at dawn of day ; Bpeak on and make my soul rejoice And all my fears allay. Tell me once more that thou hast come To bless Delilah's love ; And never more will from her roam. Answer — my love — my love. Joys — more than heaven above Await our happy love, [Singing together.] Mary. Samson! Samson! I love thee! Russell. Delilah! Delilah! I love thee! [Mary rises from the piano.] Russell. [He draws her to him, and exclaims.] You're not a girl. [Alice appears at the left of the "banquet room and walks to the edge of the stairs. Her gown is pure THE WASTREL HOARD. 31 white and, in the dim light, she comes upon the scene as if an apparition. As she sees Russell and Mary she stoi)s suddenly, confused, and as if not knoiving what to think or do. She walks backward quickly, looking toward Russell and Mary only to see that she is not observed, and disappears at the left side of the banquet room.] Russell. [Softly, in a very human tone.] You're a goddess ! Mary. [Not resisting.] I'm not. [Russell embraces her.] Ob! [Mary struggles.] Oh! [The telephone rings. ] Oh ! — Oh ! — [The telephone rings.] Oh ! ! [Mary disengages herself from Russell's embrace.] Oh!!! You shouldn't have kissed me like that. You haven't since then. [Mary shuts her eyes and shudders.] You must promise not to. Russell. I do promise. It's three months since — that — seashore — summer night. Mary. And you have been good. Russell. That was my last glass of wine. Mary. And my frst and last. And — you've seen me almost every day. You've been so good to me. Russell. I can't bear to think of all this ending. [The telephone rings. Mary and Russell stati; to- ward the telephone.] Mary. I'd better answer. [She takes the telephone and listens. Turning to Russell.] It's Alice Morse. [Pointing to the door.] No, wait. Be quiet. Don't breathe. [Mary sits down before the telephone; Russell stands near, tuatch- ing her and listening. The door at right, near the piano, opens, and Dullard half enters, but icithdraws before he is observed, and holds the door ajar so that he may listen and be seen by the audience. His apparent desire is to know when to enter after the telephone call is finished. Mary and Russell have their backs turned. Bullard is carrying 32 THE WASTREL HOARD. his overcoat on his arm and his hat, walking stick, and gloves in his hand. He gives a slight indication of being intoxicated. To telephone.] Hello! Is that you, Alice? Yes. This is Mary. — No, I'll come up to you. There isn't anyone down here yet. You heard the piano? — Of course, I was playing and singing. — Yes, that loas Mr. Turner. He was just passing through and stopped a moment to join in. He said he thought ijou might be here. No. Don't come down. — I think he went downstairs — to the parlor. Of course, I'm not avoiding you. Oh, I know you look wonder- ful. Will you? You're a sweetheart. Yes, dear. Good-bye. Good-bye. [Mary pauses a moment in thought and then turns around quickly to face Russell.] Russell. You're a born diplomat. Literally honest I You ought to be sent abroad to lie for your country. Mary. [Not noticing what he has said, Mary speaks as if her tongue were thick and dry.] If it kills me to tell [Mary hows her head. Bullard assuiJies the attitude of unwillingness to hear and closes the door. He has not seen Mary or Russell, hut has heard their voices. Mary looks up at Russell.] For years we two girls hadn't an un- shared thought. And — now — if I, why not she ! — If there is anything between you two — she must know from me. Russell. But there isn't, and never can be. Mary. You came here! [Thinking.] Victor! Russell. Senator Morse pressed me to. And I hoped he would you. My wish was gratified. Mary. [As if satisfied.] I haven't any jealousy in me. Russell. / have. [Drawing his hand across his fore- head.] You are spared evil dream.s. Mary. And Alice has — and every other woman. Russell. [Taking Mary^s i^ight hand.] I have waited for you to bring love into my life. I can't let you go now. [Mary withdraws her hand.] THE WASTREL HOARD. 33 Mary. There might be a reason — if I told you. Russell. [Not catching her meaning.] You would say that every reason existed. Love is a higher reason. I have tried to resist. But the higher wisdom prevailed. It seems to me now the most natural thing in the world. I feel that Tou belong to me. Mary. That's why / can't tell you. Russell. What? [Mary rises and faces Russell.] Mary. That I do Russell. You mean ? [She speaks calmly and tenderly.] Mary. Love without marriage is better than marriage without love. Russell. If you knew Mary. If you knew Russell. My marriage Mary. [Startled.] What marriage? Russell. Y''ou should have known that ten years ago I married without love. Mary. It isn't true ! Tell me it isn't true ! Russell. [Penitently.] It has taken me too long to tell you that it is. After four years we separated. Mary. [Hopefully awaiting the sequel.] Y'es ! Russell. [Conscious of disappointing her.] There are two little girls. The mother has been wasting away from [As if brooding.] A deep personal sorrow struck across — her — life. Mary. [Sadly.] Why didn't you tell me? Russell. I kept trying Mary. [Sitting doicn before the table and resting her arm upon the back of the chair and bowing her head.] Why didn't somebody tell me? Russell. We have scarcely given occasion. Mary. There couldn't have been a chance! 34 THE WASTREL HOARD. [Russell hends over Mary.] Russell. It has been a miracle. This has all grown upon me. It went on from the first day we met and then it was too late. There is a side — I felt I hadn't the right to tell. — If you had known, you would not have let me help you. And soon I could not let anybody say that you had known. The problem was too much for me. I kept think- ing of life without you, and I was afraid. I wanted to help you from a distance, but — I was so thoughtless — I kept right on ! [Mary looks up at Russell.] Mary. Perhaps, I might not have been strong enough. There's something carrying me onward, too. I am trying not to make it hard. Perhaps — we — love one another — be- cause we — are — weak. Russell. To know yon and then to lose you! Mary. It is I who should say that. Many a night have I gone down on my knees and thanked the God who sent you to me that you had come into my life. Yours was the first great sympathy. Russell. But you can't now ? Mary. Now, more than ever. When you came I was starving for honest companionship in this great city. But you have meant more. To have had the true love of such a man as you and to have but one man in my life and that the right one — no woman could ask more. Russell. You're so good to tell me that. Mary. [Very sadly. "[ But I must go away, Russell. Russell. You (fon'f mean that! Mary. Yes — [Risincf] — T mean just that. [Looking him squarely in the eyes, remainina silent a moment, and then speaking slowly. Her mouth seems to twitch a moment before the utterance of sound.] I won't see you again, and I won't accept anything from you. Whether the other woman has lost you or not, is not for me to judge. No matter who she is or what she may have done, I should THE WASTREL HOARD. 35 never knowingly have taken away her slightest chance, and — [shuddering]— whatever the cost — I'll not do it now. I asked no questions and I made the mistake — just exactly as father said I should. I lore you. I have never loved anyone else, and now I never can. You are everything to me, — more than you can know. And I can't give you np. But Russell. You needn't. And soon we may let the world know ■ Let them talk who would! Mary. Kow the world must never know — the nat- ural, destructive busybodies [Becomes dramatic] And I can't care what they would think. Let them have their proprieties and their dull domesticity — the hum- drum, inexorable staleness of the nnoscapablo sox-thrall of contiguous lives — which they call happiness, those who are willing to pay the price. I have loved — I have not lost. I have felt and 71010 I can make others feel. I have been inspired and now I can inspire. I'll commence now with you, and from that I'll grow and broaden. I can be thank- ful that I am a witless girl no longer — I have lived, and I shall suffer — as only a woman can — and then I shall knoro how to bring tears to my own and others' eyes, tears of joy, and love, and sympathy. I'll stir a common heartbeat of the people. [Becomes natural] Perhaps — [The door at the left opens and Bullard is seen. He appears to recog- nize the voice he had heard at the door at the right, and to realize that his ivandering search 7ias only brought him^ to the other side of the trrong room] — it will be music after all, and Europe, too. It begins to seem — [Bullard draws the door closed and disappears] — necessary and natural and best. Why do you always get your way? [The sound of the elevator indicates that it is descending from the floor above.] Thus to attain the self-loss that is art! Rus- sell, dear, T believe there's something good in all this. [She runs out at door at right. Russell stands and stares. The door at the left oprns.] 36 TEiJ WASTREL HOARD. Russell. [As if awakening from a dream.] Mary ! [Enter Senator Morse and Mrs. Morse from door at left. They are old-fashioned Yankees who have risen to leadership hy remaining Yankees and keeping their feet on the ground. They have seen Mary without Mary or Russell knowing. They exchange glances, agreeing upon ignoring what they have seen. Senator Morse goes to a wall button and turns on the lights. They act as if only the turning on of the lights had disclosed Russell's presence. Russell starts in surprise at the lights and turns around to learn the cause.] Senator Morse. Hello, Russell. Glad to see you. Russell. How do you do, Senator. I hope you are well, Mrs. Morse? Mrs. Morse. How have you been? Always saving the nation, I suppose. Senator Morse. Saving the nation from the attacks of the people, I'm afraid. That's a common occupation, now- adays. Too common. Russell. We put it this way, that the people need to be saved from their public servants. Senator Morse. That's the way Bui lard puts it, no doubt. Alice said you were down here with Mary. Russell. Yes. Senator Morse. A fine girl, that. Strong character, good family. Mrs. Morse. We can't see enough of her — but she's been keeping away from us these three months. Senator Morse. I've known Sam Flint for fifty years. And, as a boy, I knew the father — old Deacon Phineas Flint — he takes after. Sam's a psalm-singing Progressive, but a splendid fellow. You'll like him, and I think he'll like you. Typically American ! Uncle Sam — we call him. Russell. Yes. I should like him. TEE WASTREL HOARD. 37 Mrs. Morse. And Mary's mother is such a dear. [Smil- ing.] She's a sort of cousin of mine. Russell. [Smiling in response.] That explains it. Mrs. Morse. Thank you. She's been an invalid these last few years. Mary's got quite away from her — and — Sam hasn't been much of a mother to Mary. Russell. Naturally. Mrs. Morse. What Mary needs is the influence of a strong man; some one stronger than she. Senator Morse. I'm afraid such men are rare. Mrs. Morse. She ought to marry and settle down. I've told her so, often — but she doesn't seem to care for anyone. Senator Morse. She'll come out all right. Get to know her well, Russell, she's a tonic. Just what you need. Russell. Come now, Senator, am I so heavy as all that? Senator Morse. Well, you let your troubles bother you too much. You've been honorable about it all. The world doesn't ask you to mope around all your life. Mrs. Morse. You have forgiven her. Russell. When she came to me six years ago — [The chimes in the lihrary strike once for the third quarter] — and asked me to forgive her, I said that no act of any wom- an ever depended on a man's mercy for its justfication. I Relieved that then ; I know it now. [The small clock in the lihrary strikes three timet for the quarter hour.] Mrs. Morse. But you pardoned — the lie — the decep- tion Russell. That was not for me to do. Senator Morse. It has been a severe discipline for yon. Russell. Until a man has learned to suffer for a woman, he has not proved himself her equal. Mrs. Morse. You could help that girl. She needs friends, especially your kind. 38 THE WAISTUEL HOARD. [The clock above strikes three times.] Russell. We all need friends. Senator Morse. And she'd do you a lot of jijood. Your present situation is unnatural; few men could stand up under it— without a wrenching of character and a warping of their very souls. [The clock below strikes once.] Mrs. Morse. I'll warrant she'd take you away from Foster Bullard. Russell. And my income? — their income? Senator Morse. That's Bullard's bait. I've seen him ruin many a promising man with his money. He has au- thority to draw on his principals for any amount without notice — on the remotest chance of benefit to them. Most of his victims and accomplices are unconscious that they are working for him. He gets people to use corrupt money without suspicion as to its source. Mrs. Morse. He's a bad influence. Everybody knows it, but nobody dares to cut him. Russell. He's a very agreeable man. Mrs. IMorse. That kind all are. By irresistibly se- ductive courtesies — they conceal the — cloven hoof. [Mrs. Morse goes to eramine the seating arrange- ments. Russell talks at first as if to both Mrs. Morse and Senator Morse, but gradually becomes engrossed in his talk to Senator Morse.] Senator Morse. He knows something about every- body, — who is anybody. Mrs. Morse. He is good looking — [Smiling] — resem- bles you. Russell. Thank you I Mrs. Morse. But that gives him no right to ruin yon. Senator Morse. He knows something about everybody. That's how he gets in. He keeps a card catalogue of every heir to more than fiftv thousand dollars. THE WASTREL HOARD. 39 Russell. He knows something about everything, and he has brains. He began his law studies at fifty. That spells purpose. Senator Morse. No doubt about that. It was he who taught Merwin to cultivate heirs, ally them to his system, and hand them paper in exchange for their legacies. His organization is as perfect as that of the lost-heir grafters. He's really the King of Confidence Men. Russell. I am sorry I asked you to invite him. Senator Morse. It just suits my plan. To conciliate me he'll talk. I've wished for a long time to get the real Bullard to show himself to you — the man of brains who sins against the light. Russell. You have me here — because I haven't brains. Senator Morse. Nonsense, my boy. My belief in you is absolute. Russell. I appreciate that from you. It is enough in itself to make a man. Senator Morse. All a good many folks want is just believing in them. Russell. But some require a good deal? Senator Morse. Not you. In your case it is not only my good will; it is my judgment of you. Bullard knows well enough you have brains, but 7 have you here often be- cause you have character. Russell. Don't the two go together? Senator Morse. Not in most people. Crooked wisdom is the commonest kind. Brainy men often don't know enough to go straight. Russell. They haven't that quality of brains. Senator Morse. Well, that's the only kind worth hav- ing. Some day people will stop praising the sharp and worthless man just because he gets away with it. You can prove your quality by breaking with Bullard. He's the creator of the worst thing in America — the religion of the pocket-book — esprit de corps among the rich. 40 THE WASTREL HOARD. Russell. Yet some days, when he is moody, he goes on as if the rich man was to him a fiend incarnate. f Senator Morse. One crossed him many years ago. Russell. Money ? Senator Morse. A woman. Bullard would have made her great. They were both from Boston — a thing no native ever got over during his natural life — and each had an obsession. He gave up everything to follow her to New York, She was the one generous passion of his life. Russell. Did they quarrel? Senator Morse. For the moment — and in a fit of pique — he believed she would be great and — well, she thought, I suppose, he expected too much faith from her. Russell. The other man — was rich? Senator Morse. Immensely. Sweet Lily Earle — a beautiful creature — he could dictate to the theatre — and, he could gratify at once her great ambition. Russell. To lead — to star — the most gripping of pas- sions — and — Senator Morse. Well — Chance came upon her like a cyclone ; the newfound friend married her the day they met- Russell. That was sudden! A whirlwind courtship I Senator Morse. She was a singer — a poor girl. Chance made her suddenly rich and permanently miserable. I remember it well. It was just after our marriage — in October of 1880. I was trying the famous Harward mur- der case, and young Dr. Bullard was to be a witness, but he was so rattled, I couldn't put him on. A few days later, I learned the reason, when I went with Mrs. Morse to Haverly's Fifth Avenue Theatre to see Sweet Lily Earle in Anna E. Dickinson's great hit, "An American Girl." There, in a box, resplendent, sat Chance, master of the ceremonies. In the box opposite, were General Garfield and "Chet" Arthur, Republican candidates for Russell. You say "chance". Do you mean ? Senator Morse. I mean Victor's father. Russell. I've never heard Bullard speak of that! THE WASTREL HOARD. 41 Senator Morse. You never will. His rage for a time was terrible, but — well — time softens every grief — and she has been dead — [Kussell's look darkens^ — many years. EussELL. But it's certain he still lives on that memory. Senator Morse. To me his reckless course attests the depth of his attachment. It has stirred up his real self. Russell. You are right. Since / met — well, you know, at college I got to know the sons of the rich pretty well in a certain way. I tutored a good many, among them some crown prices of the money power. One in particular was sent to me by his father to be taught to write. At twenty Junior could scarcely write his own name legibly. In the next room to me was a boy who in winter had to sit upon a table with the gas lighted so as to study without freezing. Senator Morse. The hard student's a success, I'll bet. Russell. He's a fine bank clerk now — with neither cap- ital nor a union card — a member of the great American framed-up cultured middle class, whose learning and fine traditions profit them only to sharpen the sense of their own helplessness. Senator Morse. Well, the pampered pet is a failure. Russell. Again the old order changeth. "Three gen- erations from shirt-sleeves to shirt-sleeves" is a worn-out adage, and should he decently buried. My pupil's signa- ture is good for millions any day and he passes on the credit of business houses aggregating billions. Senator Morse. One more guess — inherited qualities. Russell. In a way. The failure's father pioneered in the West. The other's harvested in Wall Street. Equality ! This 'rah! 'rah I and haw! haw! business is all right for boys, but it dulls our sense of true values and it has spread to all classes and all ages. Our so-called wholesome he- roics are about the same as heroin and have the same effect — to breed fatalists and foster barbarians. I am begin- ning to feel that it contains a great menace. Senator Morse. It is still possible in tliis country of 42 THE WASTREL HOARD. opportunity for a poor boy to rise by sheer ability to great Avealth and power. KussELL. That possibility doesn't encourage the suc- cessful to let the boys who inherit that ability start with that chance. Our people overlook that luminous circum- stance ! Mrs. Morse. Our people are very intelligent, I think. They always vote right at elections. Russell. Elections ! Why, all the fool voters get now at elections is a rain-check for the next election. Senator Morse. Well, all can't be political philoso- phers. "We cannot all be masters I" Russell. Why not ! The needs of the poor are the best guide to public policy. [Mrs. Morse turns to the others and listens.] Senator Morse. But the hungry man can't think. Mrs. Morse. And the well-fed man won't. Russell. But there's the great middle class, to whom thought is more than mere food and drink. It's time for everybody to think when the greatest criminal still unhung can buy a national convention, own a national government, control a great church, debauch the press, poison the wells of knowledge by private retainers to university teachers, dominate the courts and prosecuting attorneys so as to keep himself out of the penitentiary — protect his thefts of pub- lic property, insure fabulous dividends and interest on stolen stocks and bonds, oppress all who oppose him, and, in order to overturn an inconvenient principle of law or government, reduce tlie whole fabric of private, social, and International justice to a useless and chaotic mass of false precedent, conflict, waste, and positive injustice. Senator Morse. Business men don't care for justice; what they want is results. Russell. When one man is suffered to imagine himself superior to the rest, that is the result they'll get. Mrs. Morse. That's a serious indictment, Russell. THE WASTREL HOARD. 43 Russell. Such men make life for most people a pretty serious thing, and people would better realize what they arc working against. I know any number of brilliant men of forty, who have done the hardest kind of well-directed hon- est work for twenty years, who, just because they won't Bell out, can't keep up a respectable home for their small families. [Senator Morse shakes his head as if not caring to dissent.] Mrs. Morse. You've left out the good side. Russell. I don't see it — only the other side. It's Bul- lard's bitterness, not his zeal, that seems to work in me. / wish I could afford to break away from him. But / have my duty to others. I've had to sell out ! Senator Morse. Take the jump ; I'll see you don't lose by it. I'll help you. Russell. I confess I dislike to hurt his feelings. Senator Morse. Bless my soul, he hasn't any feeling. Mrs. Morse. John's an older man than you are, Rus- sell. His judgment is good in such matters. On moral questions he is almost clairvoyant ! Russell. I don't like to break suddenly. The Pacific bill is the most important matter he ever had. Senator Morse. That's the only Avay. The longer you cook and coddle an uncertainty, the stronger it gets. The biggest thing a man can do is to realize he's in a tight place and to break loose without delay. Russell. It doesn't seem fair to Bullard. He depends on me absolutely. Senator Morse. If s the only fair way. Let him know where you stand. This Pacific business is sure to create a Bcandal and perhaps a war. To have that Canal freely used not only by our ships but by those of all nations will be a matter of life and death to the struggling masses of the next generation. When political matters are dealt with, the mind must take in the future. Bullard's Bill is 44 THE WASTREL HOARD. an attempt to fix the System on the American people and on the world for the next hundred years. That is why I'm op- posing the Bill so strenuously. I want to make my position clear. Transportation is the power to brinj*; people closer I Mrs. Morse. John is right, Russell. He usually sees over other men's heads. Russell. But / can't think of Bullard as a vicious man. Senator Morse. Bullard, my dear boy, is but an epi- sode in the cycle of vice. Men and women indulge in habits, like the use of tobacco and strong drink and drugs, heady, pernicious things, which lead from one vice to an- other and consume the fruits of land that might grow bread. Men and women drink because drink enables them to indulge their comic sense in the face of their own tragedy and to forget the sense of false inequality of our times, and the people on the other end of the equation are glad to let them forget it. And behold I — upon the profits of this in- dulgence arises a new financial dynasty, which invests its surplus in railroads and other things, including govern- ment — which it controls with the aid of vice and its pur- veyors — or, if need be, by war. They poison humanity ! Russell. So, it isn't being vicious we need to avoid, but just the being episodes. Senator Morse. Yes, Russell, society is like a complex chemical compound in which no one ingredient is all- powerful. It isn't big causes which make things go wrong. It's all the little elements, the little things we do and don't do. [Russell begins to ponder what is heinff said in gen- eral terms, and appears to he taking it home to himself.] When a boy has once learned that there is nothing smart in taking a drink that he doesn't want, he has taken a long step on the road to real manhood. When a man has once got the habit of seeing every woman who comes under his influence with his own mother's arm about her waist, he has already adopted the principal chapter in the code of the real gentleman ; when a poor man has once learned the superior comfort of going hungry to being sated on com- THE WASTREL HOARD. 45 promising money, he has gone far toward establishing his real respectability ; and when a rich man has once learned that satisfaction over his own money-safety in the midst of the want of others can only exist in a filthy mind, he is already in serious danger of becoming a member of really decent society. Mrs. Morse. And when those things hapi)en, society as a whole will have taken a great leap forward. [Russell seems ready to surrender hcfore this ad- vice. Senator Morse comes up to him and places his rif/ht hand on Kussell's shoulder.] Russell. We do neglect chemistry — mental, moral, so- cial, and commercial — a fundamental error, as Dr. Bul- lard himself says — and society is nothing without a com- mon philosophy based upon scientific fact. Senator Morse. We had a son once, and he would have been just your age. [Russell appears overcome hy a sense of the depth and the worth of the friendship of Senator Morsr and Mrs. Morse for him.] Russell. I'll speak to Bullard tonight. Senator Morse. We'll see that you get a chance. Russell. I'll try to have it over with. [Enter Musicians from right. They tune up and commence playing, and continue when appropri- ate up to the end of the a€t.] Senator Morse. Here is Bullard now. [Enter Bullard from left, ivithout overcoat and hat. Bullard is a drinking man. The audience is apprised of that fact hy the swagger of his speech, that of a Yankee provincialized hy the me- tropolis, the tenor of his remarks, and hy appar- ently insignificant mannerisms which gradually develop until their significance hecomes manifest hy his indulgence at tahle. He poses as a cynic, hut allows to he seen th*: sentimentalist fighting 46 THE WASTREL HOARD. grimly up the heights upon the inept staff of the materialist.] BuLLARD. Good evening, Senator. Senator Morse. Good evening, Mr. Bullard. We were just speaking of Bullard. — The devil ! — Your humble servant? Mrs. Morse. [Disconcerted, but trying to set mattcrt right.] It was very nice of you to come. Now we can dis- cuss public questions. Bullard. It was very nice of you to ask me to come. Russell, my boy ! How are you? Russell. Good evening, Mr. Bullard. [Russell icallcs to the sofa, sits down, and watchet the other three, who are standing.] Bullard. Public questions, Mrs. Morse, are very com- mon topics. Mrs. Morse. Why, then, is it difficult to treat common topics in a proper way ? Bullard. It always is. That's the rarest faculty. And there are none but common things ! Senator Morse. No public question ever gets settled without your help, eh, Bullard? Bullard. No public question ever gets settled, Sen- ator. Senator Morse. Until it is settled right. Bullard. I stand pat on my version. The two-party f-ee-saw was designed for that — by the politicians. To re- Tiiove the classic issues would be t*^ \\\\ the goose — the pub- lic goose — which lays the golden eggs. Senator Morse. You stand pat from force of habit? Bullard. No, respect for facts. When I see a cold, hard fact, I always take my hat off to it. That habit has !^;aved me a lot of trouble in my day. Senator Morse. And made you a lot of money. Bullard. For me and my clients. Mrs. Morse. Money ^sn't everything, Mr. Bullard. THE WASTREL HOARD. 47 BuLLARD. If it was it wonlfln't be money; it wouldn't get you anything. Money, money — Mrs. Morse, is what gets you everything. Mrs. Morse. Not everything, Mr. Bullard. Men may be upright without money. Bullard. [Assuming the ingratiating manner of his class and making a show of "talking from the inside" and of being above concealment with his hearers.] I haven't heard that lately. The average man would rather be in right than upright. It's hard to be both at the same time. Now, I attended the First Panel of the Sheriff's Jury at four o'clock today. Not one of the panel but is a millionaire and every one of them bent on escaping ordinary jury duty at any price. The Sheriff gets more than the President in fees alone — and all the job-holders in proportion. Well, our newest multi-millionaire, your young friend Chance, was welcomed to this panel by Peter Merwin himself. Mr. Merwin slapped the boy on the back and dubbed him "Youthful'' and the jurors cried out, "iJoth members of this Club !" Senator Morse, ine boy's just been admitted to the Unity Club, too. Bullard. Excuse me, Senator — we are both members — but I'd as soon belong to the Grand Central Station ! Mrs. Morse. Mr. Merwin said a fine thing the other day — he would rather loan money on a man's character than on government bonds. Bullard. Mr. Merwin — believe me — never had the choice. He deals exclusively with the fellows that have the securities. By the way, he has induced "Sir Youthful" to take hold of the financial end of this so-called reform campaign. Senator Morse. It is the new Educational Foundation against Bullard. — Against the ancient literary foundation known as the Tammany Society. 48 THE WASTREL HOARD. Senator Morse. Well, Yoiithfurs father left several millions in securities, that Merwiu BuLLARD. Handed to him — and wouldn't lend a dol- lar on. The greatest bait this goldfish in his blinding bowl ever nibbled at was a secret process for making gold from (sea-water. How characteristic! How many of the tribe wish to do that in one way or another! — to owr the sea and through it have no less than everything for their own. [Grinning. 1 If the wastrel had lived, we'd have had — the whole fortune in that paper. Merwin has bales of it — still undigested. Unfortunately, Chance never cared to run for office. He was one sucker that never bit. But he did love paper! There are too few like him ! Introduce a bill, Sen- ator, requiring securities that a donkey can eat. Stock should be fed as well as watered. Mrs. Morse. The name Chance is on the list of victims in every society broker's failure. BuLLARD. They're all outposts for Merwin. The Street is his camp. Chance, that is, fortune, is their Creator ! Senator Morse. Merwin's ivards are widows and orphans! He is a patron of religion. Mrs. Morse. And Mr. Merwin has done a lot for the country. Senator Morse. And the country has done a lot for Mr. Merwin. BuLLARD. And Mr. Merwin has done the country for a lot — but he gives it — a salve for the conscience. It'll be all right. Senator Morse. You know, Bullard, that Merwin pi'oposed to Mrs. Morse at the time I did. She accepted me because he was rich and everything he has done in spite of his money has been brought to my notice as a sort of re- minder that she may have made a mistake. Bullard. [Sadly.] A rare tribute to you both! Mrs. Morse. He [Looking toward the how icindow'\ has done much for fine arts in America Bullard. Mine is the real fine art of America. [Makes THE WASTREL HO AND. 49 sig'ii of handliiifj money.] Mi*. Merwin is its chief patron. He holds art as he holds stocks — for the market. Mrs. Morse. He puts them iu public museums. BuLLARD. Yes. The public houses them, exempts them from taxation, and advertises them — and [During this conversation, Russell has been looking on, lost in thought. Totcard the end he forgets himself, rises, puts hie right fist to his mouth, the thumbnail touching the lips, the index finger along the upper lip, comes up to the group, but stares into space, as if alone.] — and — knocks them down — [diminuendo] at a rich profit.. [Bullard ends his sentence almost inaudihly as he suddenly notices Russell, is disconcerted, arrests his speech, and turns to Russell and speaks to him as if brought suddenly to knowledge of his state of mind.] Why so quiet, Russell? [Russell is aroused tmth a start, turns for a refuge in his confusion, notices Alice and ^Iary, who have entered, and speaks, as if to all, as Mary and Alice enter.] Russell. Here are the girls. Bullard. Charmin.2; ! Mrs. Morse. Meet Miss Flint and my daughter, Mr. Bullard. Bullard. [ A pj)ears fascinated by Mary.] Charmed! Alice. How do you do? Mary. [Resenting an engaging look.] How do you do? [Mary drops her handkerchief, with malice, to make Bullard bend. Bullard picks it up and in handing it to Mary stiiffs npprrciatevly at the perfume. Mary reaches for the handkerchief and, to affront Bullard, half catches at it.] Mrs. ]Morse. Miss Flint is the daughter of the Senator's oldest friend. [Bullard shoics that he has frit repulsed by Mary and attempts to retreat in graciousness to Mrs. Morse.] Sa THE WASTREL HOARD. BuLLARD. I congratulate her; that makes you her friend. In this soulless metropolis — the undertow — on this — seashore — is Mrs. Morse. We are the ones to be congratulated. She is as accomplished as she is beautiful. We hope to hear her at the Opera some day. [BuLLARD attempts to cover Jiis retreat in patroniz- ing graciousness to Mary.] BuLLARi). Wonderful ! [BuLLARD studies Mary's features closely, measures her from tip to toe in a guarded way, and checks an exclamation which ivould denote a discovery.] Mary. [Coldly.] Nonsense! [Bullard shows that he feels that his mask has been penetrated. He assumes the attitude of challenge and defiance.] Bullard. Don't be too sure. It'll be all right. [To himself, musing, setting his right hand on his chin — and to Russell.] Where? — The telephone I — The voice I [Bul- lard takes Russell aside to right. Mrs. Morse and Sen- ator Morse direct and. attempt to keep Mary and Alice away from. Russell and Bullard.] Charmer I So, that's the girl? Russell. What do you mean? Bullard. So that's wh}^ you have been so distracted and haven't been able to get down to business? ' Russell. Do you mean to Bullard. Oh, I am blessed with good eyesight. It's as plain as Don't 1 know the signs? A child Russell. That's no excuse for seeing things. Bullard. It doesn't take a physician — any knowing woman could see [Victor and Mrs. Havorbee enter. The first person Victor greets is Mary, shaking her hand irith marked cordiality and covert admiration.] THE WASTREL HOARD. 51 BULLARD. [Noting the attitude of Victor.] Good God! My boy! [With conscious amhiguity.] Is Chance wedging into this match, too ! Russell. [Showing that, in his preoccupation with the ordeal before him, he has not understood Bullard's insin- ttation.] Mr. Bullard, I am obliged to tell you [BuLLARD raises a learning hand to arrest the speech of Russell and to call his attention to the entrance of Victor and Mrs. Havorbeb. The speech and manner of Victor and Mrs. Havorbee disclose the superb detachment of ultra-smart Manhattanites. Victor does not deign to conceal, even in attempted dalliance with Mabi^, his atti- tude toward Alice of a suitor confident of his merits and assured of success. Mary, on the other hand, shotvs that she is embarrassed by the double necessity of appearing, on the one hand, to encourage Victor without hurting Alice, and otherwise to disarm suspicion of the nature of her interest in Russell, and, on the other hand, to give her attention to the talk of Bullard and Russell, so as, when necessity and opportunity combine, to shoot quick glances of intelligence and moral support to Russell.] Victor. [To Mary.] How charming you look! Blooming as a rose and sweet — as a — Madonna ! Mary. [With a nervous laugh.] I am glad you think so! Victor. [Unembarrassed, to Alice.] It is quite true. Eh! Isn't it? Alice. [Offering her hand to Victor.] How do you do? Victor. Oh ! Yes. How do you do ! Eh ! Bullard. [Nudging Rvi^SEhh and nodding.] You see! Russell. [Glowering at Bvia^ahd.] Well! 52 THE WASTREL HOARD. [Mrs. Morse and Senator Morse take in the sitttO' tion between Russell and Bullard and take Mrs. Havorbee, Victor^ Alice^ and Mary in charge.] Mrs. Morse. It was so good of you to come, Mrs. Havorbee. Senator Morse. How do you do, Mrs. Havorbee. How do you do, Victor. Mrs. Morse. Let me show you the Americana I spoke to you about. Are you young people coming? [Victor, Alice, and Mary trail slowly after Mrs. Morse, Senator Morse and Mrs. Havorbee ; when they have reached the dining-room, Mary halts Victor and Alice.] Mary. [To Victor and Alice.] Doesn't the table look sweet! Victor. [To Mary.] Doesn't it? Alice. [Turning to Mary and her back to Victor.] It's a question of — appetite ! Mrs. Morse. [Observing the lagging.] All right, if you are not coming. [Mrs. Morse, Senator Morse, and Mrs. Havorbee go out at the right of the banquet room. Mary, Victor, and Alice move about the banquet room examining the table and talking. All three are fidgety, for distinct reasons. Victor affects a slouch and a general air of nonchalance. From time to time, he draws out alternately a jeweled gold cigarette case and a, gold lighter, and, in handling them, discloses his devotion to cigor rettes, his restiveness at not being able to smoke, and a general demeanor indicative of not knowing what to do with himself. Alice watches him with an apparent desire to take him in hand, and with concern at Mary^s lightness and nervousness. Mary has eyes and attention for Alice, for Vie- THE WASTREL HOARD. 53 TOR, for Russell and Bullard, and for the return of tJie Others. Bullard and Kussbll^ each for a different reason, proceed in their talk as if desirous of getting something said before the Others return.] Bullard. What's the matter, my boy? I haven't hurt your feelings, have I? Russell. We'll leave my feelings out of it. I wish to discuss business. Bullard. I can't — I'm too fond of you. Besides, that isn't business. This Pacific matter is good for three years. You'll need to be footloose. This bill will be the entering wedge. After we carry Congress we'll have to get The Hague Tribunal. Certain nations must be prevented by its decree from denying our power to discriminate. That will require big money and rare cleverness. Once the power is conceded to discriminate in tolls, we'll have Congress make them so high our rivals can't pay them. Russell. An international hold-up. That means war. Bullard. Only with England. Land power against the sea. Russell. And Japan and China. The Japs are ripe for a fight for space to multiply. Bullard. It's war or The Hague. The continent of Europe's with us in either event. And if we decide we need Mexico, it is war — war with Japan, anyway. Russell. But the people Bullard. Our people will rise to the bait. The yellow newspapers will declare war and they'll be doing my work as usual. Every American who is dissatified with his op- portunities is spoiling for a chance in Mexico. We'll bring the whole thing on at once. Editors are our hired men ! Russell. But the treaty — the Hay-Pauncefote Treaty ! Bullard. A little scrap of paper can just start the blaze we want. That's what treaties are made for. You never hear of them except 64 THFj wastrel HOARD. Russell. But the powers of Europe are balanced — France and Russia are with England. BuLLARD. So they all think. Not against us. That's the idea. We'll break that combination. England must be dethroned as the leader. Russell. We can't lead. Our entire foreign policy is based on Britain's control of the sea. BuLLAKD. That's what must be changed. To control commerce we've got to place the American people under a new leadership, a real leadership. Russell. What justification can there be? It was England that gave us an American Canal — by abrogating the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty — ours to build as and where we liked, to own, control and govern, on the sole condition of its being always neutral and free for the passage of the ships of all nations on equal terms, except that if we get into a war with any nation, we can shut its ships out and take care of ourselves. What justification ? BuLLARD. The usual one — high financial necessity. We've got to control the railroads from coast to coast to the South of us and keep Canada out of the Canal. Our railroads will then get the business away from the Canal, and keep the power, through their monopoly of coastwise ships, to charge whatever rates they please, and that'll give us control of the sea as well — a world monopoly at last. Then industries come in, then empire, then — the reward. [Russell appears to attempt to grasp Bullard^s idea.] Russell. But American registry and the flag ! Bullard. Are purely and simply matters, in peace and war, of insurance and taxation. Russell. But your own bill prohibits railroads from owning ships. Bullard. My boy, you are too innocent! You don't suppose we let our enemies manage the opposition to us! We oppose ourselves and nowadays we often appear in THE WASTREL HOARD. 55 frantic opposition to what we really want. We put that life preserver for water competition in for the time being to conceal our real purpose — to get the power to discrim- inate. Once we have that we have everything. Then we'll monopolize water transportation, too. We'll never give up this fight. We have underwritten every profitable industry in the country Russell. Including the canning industry ! BuLLARD. What do you mean? Russell. Well, you can the press, the stage, the drama, the publishers, and the pulpit. Even the liquor interests restrict the press and control the modes. That's your very policy. Bullard. Only as a necessary incident. Otherwise we care nothing for them. We've killed public co-operation and private competition deader than a doornail. Russell. You do indeed control American lives from before the cradle almost to beyond the grave. Bullard. Yes. Russell. Well, you have made death so easy, yon ought to make burial free. It is a police function, anyway. Bullard. As a doctor I saw that the facts of mortality would, if known, tell the whole story of social crime. The coroner is the crown of the political arch. If you sur- render when the undertaker comes in you might as well be the corpse. We've got to protect w^hat we have and head off the come-back ; we are the middleman in all things and the ultimate distributors in most, but transportation is the keystone of the industrial arch. The natural geo- graphicnl advantage and our monopoly of coastwise trade don't help us. It's the political power to discriminate we want. Next we'll extend the exemption to all American ships and for all ports in the world. And then we'll raise the rates for the ships outside the combine. Once we con- trol transportation, we control commerce, and naval and commercial bases. The control of industry is the next step, and then the Inst man and the last dollar, a great, world 56 THE WASTREL HOARD. empire. Let me tell you something! If our people learn how their railroad stock and bonds are created and held, they'll riot. We've got to get real power soon or never. Now for the entering wedge and then — and then — [Exult- ant] — it will keep us busy until we retire having these high tolls maintained. This question has come and it has come to stay ; it will not down as long as men and nations have ambitions! [Russell stands lost in thought.] You agree to forget your feelings for this girl and I'll make proper reparation for her and Russell. [Again hecoming attentive.] What do you mean, reparation? [Russell catches sight of Victor, Alice, and Mary, and receives a furtive glance from, Mary bespeaking an attack upon the plan agreed upon.] Well ! Mary. [In a hurst of forced laughter.] Why, Victor! You mustn't say such things ! Victor. Pardon me. Eh! Alice. [Troubled.] Not again. [The conversation of Mary, Victor, and Alice con- tinues in a low tone and Russell gives his un- divided attention to Bullard again.] BuLLARD. Well — [Noting the diversion and balking at cxplicitness.] — I'll double your retainer right now. Russell. That's no inducement. BuLLARD. Why not? Russell. Double nothing is nothing. Bullard. What do you mean? Russell. I haven't any retainer. Bullard. Why, it's ten thousand a year. That's some- thing to start on. Then you get a reminder, then a refresh- er, then a sweetener, then a sustainer, and then your fee. The law is a good profession, and the mysterious paymas- ter makes a good client. Russell. Retainer! [Disparagingly.] H'm! Bullard. Well, it's no crime to pay your lawyer or THE WASTREL HOARD. 57 your broker, thoiigli a good many dishonest people seem to think it is. Those who do pay deserve loyalty. Russell. Yes, but I've stopped. BuLLABD. That's right, and you're starting over at twice the salary. It'll be all right. Russell. On the contrary. I am giving up back salary. BuLLARD. You'll have to furnish a diagram for that joke. Russell. In the past year I have received from you ten thousand dollars as a retainer and twelve thousand dol- lars in fees. I haven't used a penny of it. I've that amount and a little more saved up. BuLLARD. You needn't tell me that. We own all the banks, and we know every transaction of every individual who interests us. Russell. And that knowledge is power. BuLLARD. Absolute power. Now, you interest me very much, you see. Mary. [In another diplomatic outhurst.] Rich men always fall back on their money and never on their man- hood. [BuLLARD pauses a moment and Russell gives a moment to thought.] Victor. [Patronizingly to Mary.] ^ot ahvay si Alice. [Disturbed.] Too often I Victor. [In a lower tone, to Alice and Mary.] It's a common weakness. [Bullard fi.ves a challenging gaze upon Russell which Russell returns.] Russell. The spider's web ! You'll receive a certified check tomorrow for what you have paid me. You say that you know it will be good. Bullard. You're not going to quit, are you? Russell. That's it exactly. I am going to quit. Bullard. But yon can't do that. This Pacific Bill isn't passed yet by a good deal. 58 TEE WASTREL HOARD. Russell. I'm willing to pay the price. I'm giring it all back. BULLABD. Not all Russell. What do you mean? BuLLABD. How about your profits in underwritings I put you in on ? Russell. I took the risk. Things went down soon enough. They do now. Every time they go up, those clever Teutons unload. Everyone suffers from that risk. BuLLABD. Yes, just the same risk as my friends in Congress. But there wasn't any risk on their flyers. We were jockeying the dividends. That's why I put them in. Russell. I'm glad you told me. I'll give that back, too. BuLLABD. It isn't so simple as that. We've trusted the whole thing to you. Russell. Am I not free? Does your hold-up include me? BuLLABD. You can't turn around on people. You have our secrets. Russell. Under the seal of professional privilege. BuLLABD. Which the courts no longer respect in mat- ters of this kind. Russell. Well, you have my word. BuLLABD. And you've slipped a moral cog. Russell. No. I've just caught one. Lawyers should be punished for their part in their clients' villainy. / might have been disbarred. Bullabd. Impossible. You are a member of the Bar Association. Russell. But I'm becoming honest. I'll resign. Bullabd. No man trusts a reformed lobbyist. He's only fit for an expert State's witness. Russell. I'm not dealing with every man. I'm dealing with you. Do you mean to say you don't trust me? Bullabd. I have trusted you. Aren't you going back on me? You're a lawyer. You're going to continue to THE WASTREL HOARD. 59 practice. You'll be retained for what you know, facts as well as law. KussBLL. You needn't fear. The door is closed upon the past. Nobody'll learn anything from me. It's nothing to be proud of and I'll not be heard boasting. [Russell turns aside — looks upwards and mutters as if in despair.] Stealing from humanity ! Not a hundred years ago society would hang a man by law just for stealing a sheep from another man. And now humanity submits — and society goes on producing its own disease and crime. Society protects private property even to selective imprisonment for debt but never selects for punishment wholesale theft of public property. BuLLARD. What's that! [Russell remains silent, BuL- LARD hites his lips, pauses, then proceeds.] Many a lawyer would like to be able to say to prospective clients he had served our interests. A man seldom knows when he's well off — until lie's worse off ! [Mrs. Morse, Senator Morse, and Mrs. Havorbee come into the banquet room from the right.] Mrs. Havorbee. [Her eyes happen to rest upon Vic- tor, Alice, and Mary.] Splendid! And very interesting! Russell. I shall have only one client, hereafter. [Flint enters. Mrs. Morse and Senator Morse hurry to take possession of him.] Flint. [Effusirely.] Well. How do you do! Mrs. Morse. This is a pleasure ! Senator Morse. Come in, Sam, and meet my friends. [Alice, followed by Victor atid Mrs. Havorbee, come forward to greet Flint. Alice kisses Flint on the cheek. Flint beams on Mrs. Havorbee and shakes hands with Victor.] Alice. Well. Uncle Sam. You are more attractive than ever 60 THE WASTREL HOARD. Flint. [Turning the compliment to Mrs. Havorbbb.] It is being with you young folks. Alice. This is Mr. Chance's aunt, Mrs. Havorbeb. Flint. I shouldn't have believed it. Mrs. Havorbee. We'll say Victor is my nephew. Victor. As a woman thinks! [All laugh at Victor's loit, move backward, under Mrs. Morse's steering, and drop into more subdued conversation. Bullard, who has dis' creetly paused, resumes.^ Bullard. Retained already? [Victor notes that Mary has remained out of view of Flint_, in the banquet room, studying alter- nately Russell and the seating arrangement, and goes back to Mary.] Russell. Not yet. Bullard. The new client makes up what you pay back. There's an agreement. Russell. None whatever. The new client doesn't know I'm coming. Bullard. You're taking a chance, my boy. Who is it? Perhaps I can tell you about them. It'll be all right. Russell. You don't know this client. You wouldn't understand them. Bullard. Who is it? It'll be Russell. The American people. Bullard. A United States attorney! But they prac- tice privately! — And to great advantage. [Russell holds his retort poised.] But we have the right men in those places now. We don't need you there. Russell. You won't have me there. When / said peo- ple, I meant it ! [Alice rejoins Mary and Victor in the banquet room. Bullard takes note and nods to Russell. Mrs. Morse and Senator Morse appear very much occupied in keeping the attention of Mrs. Havor- bee and Flint from Bullard and Russell. From THE WASTREL HOARD. 61 time to time Flint bursts into laughter, evidently in appreciation of his own sallies. Shortly after, as if in echo, Mary, still out of view of Flint, hurst into strategic hollow laughter. The atten- tion of Flint is each time arrested, hut he comes hack quickly to his own field of conquest. At each burst of laughter, Russell gives increasing signs of nerves and fear of causing Bullard to raise his voice.] Bullard. Not that! Russell. Yes. Just that! [Russell turns away from Bullard, but Bullard follows him about, keeping up a running fire of conversation, and gradually getting his attention.] Bullard. My boy! Are you crazy? Come, give up this affair. I know it's hard. Be a Don Quixote, if you like. That's not fatal. But don't wreck your life on the myth of service to society. There's no such thing as organ- ized society. Can't you see that you weren't born to be its victim or its slave? The bottom of the treadmill is no place for you. You didn't select poverty for your birth- right. Society allowed it to be wished upon you. Now is your chance to come into your own. Don't make it impossi- ble for me to help you. Every child born is its parents' hostage to so-called society for their good behavior — [Flint laughs] — ^but what hostage does society give them or you? What insurance is there for paternity, that the commonest crime is its prevention? [Mary laughs.] What does good behavior get anybody nowadays? There are only individ- uals in this world and society is organized against them. There never was an individual so good that society wouldn't turn on him and crucify him without a pang. Don't be ahead of your time ! That's treason ! Harvey's theory of the circulation of the blood was considered so ridiculous that for ten years not a single patient consulted 62 THE WASTREL HOARD. Mm. Not the circnlation of money ! ^'Pnt money in thy purse!" Don't waste your fine scorn of the idealist upon the one thing which enables a man today to cherish his ideals. Get the money that will shelter you from the penalties of being without. [Flint laughs.] Society imprisons God's poor, who, with or without fault, or for just cause given by society itself, get on the wrong side of the law and find all the virtuous forces of society leagued against them — [Mary laughs.] — in what should be clinics with specific wards for specific complaints, l)ut in their terrible reality are such mephitic, disease-and-degradation-spread- ing Bastilles that those that know them would rather be dead than go there — to be persecuted, grafted on, victimized, and starved by degTees — morally and phys- ically — until they become moral lepers and parasites. [BuLLARD fugs at his collar, as if to relieve pi^essurc.] And even the innocent, sent to these places and buried alive through society's mistake — without questioning vvhether their deficiencies be not evidence of their guilt- lessness — [Flint laughs.] — and its ow^n guilt — society has neither the heart, the character, nor the self-respect to compensate for the false accusation and the unjust punishment. And the innocent Avomen and children suffer eternally from the moment organized society knocks — [Mary laughs.] — at the breadwinner's door. And no- body's safe from the knock at the door. The surrender of the public functions of lawyers, including those of prosecuting attorneys, for purposes of protection and private blackmail and coercion, has become a fixed Amer- ican custom. The struggle is always unequal. [Flint laughs.] When I consider v\^hat kind of men dare to judge other men, I am appalled, and I shudder! It is the man in power who determines who shall go and for how long. Justice, or what goes by that name, is openly bought and sold in the United States. A less serious cause, the sale of indulgences, brought about the Reformation, and no THE WASTREL HOARD. 63 greater cause, the unjust conviction of Jean Calas, was made, by Voltaire, the cause of the French Revolution. [Mary laughs and turns from Alice to Victor and furtively shoots a glance at Russell.] Mary. For heaven's sake, say something — Victor I Russell. Well, American law is so mixed up that no- body really knows it and few know that. The two big causes for the breakdown of justice, the uneven distribu- tion of wealth and the private control of public prop- erty, are just the things which should call forth courageous, constructive jurists. [With a glance at Victor^ Alice, and Mary.] But even the mob admires money. It is tangible and they can understand it — but brains — ^they can't. So what's the use I States' rights, extra courts, no nation, but just politics, graft, inefficiency, chaos, nothing, America I BuLLARD. Correct. And organized society, as at pres- ent constituted, commits crimes that defy the imagination and make the blood run cold, with its dupes worsliipping it all the while as holy. [Flint laughs.] Modern society is probably the weakest and the crudest thing in existence. [Mary laughs.] If civilized society were a body that could be strung up by the neck, it wouldn't survive meeting the first pair of real men with a rope. And it won't be better until it's stronger, or stronger until it is better. Power on its present foundations is weakness itself. Come, now I I understand you as nobody else ever can, and we can help one another. [Mary laughs.] You've been in politics long enough to know that no man in public office owes the public anything. I'll give you time to get over this — give you a trip to Europe, fees and expenses. I can't get on without you. I can get the grafters myself. I've got to have you to get the honest members, accelerate public opinion, and put brains in the heads of some and tongues in the mouths of others. If I get anybody else, he'll think of nothing but to get my job for himself. Besides, you 64 TEE WASTREL HOARD. have the confidence of the one universally honored United States Senator. His daughter Mary. [Laughs.] Preposterous, Victor ! Money always keeps the better manhood down ! EussELL. [Showing resentment and as if regretting the attention he has given Bullard.] You've said enough ! This conference is at an end. Bullard. Not quite yet. Did this girl tell you to break with me? [Flint catches sight of Mary and starts toward her. She turns her hack and Flint stops and watches her. Mrs. Morse comes to the rescue. ] Mrs. Morse. John has some new bits of Americana. He wishes you to see them. Flint. [Enthusiastically, forgetting that he has a daughter. His speech is that of the self-conscious, precious Yankee.] Of course. I want to see them. [Mrs. Morse and Flint go to side of banquet room, followed hy Senator Morse and Mrs. Havorbee^ who beckon to Victor^, Alice^, and Mary. Bullard notes that he and Russell are to be alone and speaks ivith increased emphasis. Mary remains behind the Others^ out of view, and listens.] Russell. This matter is between you and me; we're both guests here. Bullard. Let the girl go abroad to study. Russell. I refuse to discuss the matter further. Bullard. You've told your side of it. Russell. There isn't any other. Bullard. How about Mrs. Turner and the girls? Russell. Why are you so interested in children? You never had any of your own. Bullard. The difference between the love of one's own children only and the love of others' children, too, is the difference between the past and the future of the human race. / have tried to be a big brother to you. THE WASTREL HOARD. 65 [BuLLARD reaches for Jiis ivatch chain and looks doicn at a locket thereon, the mate to the one KussELL gave to Mary. He notes then for the first time that the locket is missing from Rus- SBLL^s chain.] Russell. I appreciate tliat, but my family is my own affair. BuLLARD. Hard times are coming. Russell. Don't talk hard times to me. It's been hard times for me ever since I was born — and for most other people, too. How do you know hard times are coming? If your underwriters keep on withdrawing the credit of small enterprises and keep on sending gold back to Europe for military establishments, they'll feel hard times themselves, and they'll be lucky if the structure they erect on other people's misfortunes doesn't tumble upon their own heads. Bullard. But you needn't risk the welfare of your family. Children are young but once. [The chime clock in the library is heard striking seven times.] Russell. Yes — and a man is young but once. The best Time lets him keep is his good name. If he gives his children that [The smaller clock strikes seven times.] Bullard. To have done nothing for children but to bring them into the world is to have done nothing indeed ! To a man the privilege of guiding his children is the breath of life. That should be every grown man's worry. Russell. I've done it. Bullard. But the instinct quickens and grows from the first doll to the last grandchild. [The larger clock, in a room above, strikes seven times.] Russell. I know my duty. 66 THE WASTREL HOARD. [The orchestra commences to play ''The ^erenudc," by Franz Drdla, the violins predominating with muted strings. The music continues until after the fall of the curtain.] Allegretto „,„rti^. THE WASTREL IIOAllD. 67 BuLLARD. I'll let Mrs. Turner judge. Wlien I tell her about the other — singing girl ! KussELL. If any man brings sorrow into the life of the woman who has been my wife, by God, I'll kill him. And now, I'm through. [The very loud chime, of the hall clock on the floor below, is heard to strike seven times.] BuLLARD. I've urged you to give up the other woman. Remember that, thanks to you, I'm on the inside with the Morses now. I notice you are not wearing your locket ! [Mrs. Morse, Senator Morse, Flint, Mrs. Havor- BEE, Alice, and Victor come into the banquet room and Mary keeps ahead of them.] Russell. The race of men who spy upon the weakness of their neighbors in order to get in upon them and to profit by their knowledge are the nearest thing to rats that God allows to exist in human form. Bullard. [Pats Russell on the shoulder.] You'll meet many human rats, my boy, as you get older. It'll be all right. Come, we're attracting attention. We'll talk it over tomorrow. Russell. It will be as I say. I'm through. Bullard. All right, my boy. It will be all right. [Bullard joins the others. Mary joins Russell.] Mary. I'm proud of you. It w^as wonderful. You'll not be sorry. Russell. Not if you are pleased. I feel stronger al- ready, as if I could accomplish anything. Mary. So you can. We both can. But we must start all over again. You start your campaign here. I'll do Europe. I'll beat Bullard if I have to go to The Hague to do it — and if they hang me afterward ! [Mary makes a strategic retreat from Russell.] Flint. [Ecstatically, to Mrs. Morse.] Some of these 68 THE WASTREL HOARD. bits are priceless. Mary Dyer [Dramatically], the 'Quaker girl, an apostle of peace, in defiance to the Puritan hang- men ! Two hundred and fifty odd years ago ! That Dutch print is wonderful. [ Turning to Mary in a matter-of-fact way.] Hello, daughter, I am glad to see you here. [Russell avoids Flint and joins Victor, Alice, Senator Morse, and Bullard in the banquet room.] Mary. I am glad to he — here. [Mrs. Morse leaves Mary and Flint together and joins the others.] Flint. I had a shock today. I happened to learn the address of little Laura Lord and I called. Mary. Well ? Flint. A strange coincidence ! I hadn't seen her for years — to speak to. Mary. [Grlmlg.] I have often heard you speak of her — a paragon ! Flint. It was pitiable — her condition — and she seemed miserable, like one doomed. Mary. I am sorry. Flint. You must go to see her. Mary. I shall. Flint. She lives at the Lynnthorpe. She's tied, it seems, to a worthless fellow — who married her — some years ago — without love, just to keep her from the stage. He's named — Turner — Russell Turner. Mary. [Steadying herself and turning away as if to look toward the banquet room, she hesitates a moment, then turns toward her father and, seeming ready to sink to the floor, makes an effort to speak to Flint ; her eyes are half- closed, and her voice is almost inaudible.] They seem ready to sit down. [As the guests make their way to the table the cur- tain falls.] Curtain. ACT, II. ACT II. The scene is the same as in ACT I, except that the outer line of the stage is almost parallel with the outer line of the doors on either side of the stage. The banquet room is thus brought into the foreground. During the time that has elapsed, the principal courses of the din- ner have been passed. The orchestra has been heard playing behind the curtain. As the curtain inscs sloicly, animated conversation appears to be in progress and all the guests arc seen at their places, at table; Senator Morse at head, facing the audience; Mrs. Morse at foot; on either side of Senator Morse arc Flint and Bullard; at Mrs. Morse's right sits Mary; at left sits Russell; next to Mary, at right, sits Victor ; next to Russell_, at left, sits Mrs. Havor- bee; newt to Victor, at right, sits Alice. The orchestra is just finishing '^The Prologue'' from I Pagliacci.] Mrs. Morse. I'm coming to see you when yon play, Mary. Alice. Mary says she'll never play unless someone chloroforms one of the principals. Mary. [With a forced laugh.] I never saw such healthy women. Victor. A likely understudy is a great invigorator to the rest of the company. Kh ! Mrs. Morse. Mary ought to have a part where she can sing a song. [Bullard suddenly looks at Mary. His attention becomes fixed upon the locket. He looks down at the one he carries on his xcatch-chain and discloses that he has discovered that they match and that he is nettled. Victor attempts to give an imita- tion of Mary singing the grand air from Tosca.] 71 72 THE WASTREL HOARD. Victor. ^^Vissi d'arte — vissi d'amore! I never did nothing to nobody !" I am quite a singer myself ! Eh ! BuLLARD. [To Victor.] We will keep your secret! Victor. What secret? BuLLARD. That you are a singer. Victor. {Curtly] Oh! Thanks! BuLLARD. Is there any other? Victor. Not that / know of. [Mary froivns furtively at Victor. Bullard turns to Flint.] Bullard. Your daughter is on the stage, Mr. Flint? Victor. It's a play called "Life." There's a fatal fas- cination about playing at life. Eh! Mary. [With a diplomatic chuckle.] It is deadly! Flint. [Brooking the interruption with marked resig- nation.] I am sorry to say she is. [Nervous, to change the subject.] That was a great speech of yours, Senator, on the Pacific Canal Bill. We've got to keep our treaties. The world's peace rests on treaties. We can't afford to endanger that. Sovereignty has duties as well as rights. Bullard. [Giving Mary a look of confident chal- lenge.] Lucky it isn't the movies! The stage must be in an awful pucker when that form of entertainment can get a footing! Senator Morse. It's a serious matter. We must neu- tralize that Canal so that any nation that fights us there must fight the world. Bullard. Very serious, Senator, when you're sched- uled to hold a brief before The Hague Tribunal against your speech. If w^e pass our bill, you'll surely be chosen. Senator Morse. Do you think so? I've declared my- self against the Bill. Bullard. You've advised and defended many a man you wouldn't admit you believed in. Senator Morse. But that's as a lawyer. Bullard. It lent your prestige. That's why you were retained. THE WASTREL HOARD. 73 Senator Morse. A lawyer can't choose his clients — and live. Besides, the questions are not quite the same. One question is that of power and expediency. At The Hague we argue technical questions of law. BULLARD. "Consistency is the mark of greatness," Sen- ator. Senator Morse. And "the bugbear of small minds," Bullard. Flint. That's one on you, Bullard. Bullard. It looks that way. Senator Morse. No offense intended. Bullard. None taken, I assure you. Give them some of that sauce at The Hague. It'll be all right. Senator Morse. It's a far cry to The Hague. You haven't passed your bill yet. Bullard. But we will, this session or next. The ques- tion is one of those that will keep nations in conflict until it unites them forever in peace. We'll soon be at The Hague. Senator Morse. If you ever do, you'll have to be there to feed me the argument on your side. Bullard. All nature is an appetite of some sort ! Mrs. Havorbee. Why are you not drinking your wine, Mr. Flint. It is good. Flint. My dear lady, I am a manufacturer ; I now em- ploy more than five thousand men ; and almost every night for thirty years, one or more women with one child in arms and another, perhaps, tugging at the skirt, rang my door- bell to ask me to reinstate a husband who had lost his place through drink. [Looking at Mary.] I shall hold that an evil day when I or mine take the first glass of wine. Mrs. Havorbee. Dear me, you are serious. Flint. Sufficiently so even to recommend my serious- ness to 1J0U. As a public-spirited woman, I should think you might consider giving an example — [Looking at Vic- tor^ tvho is toying with a glass] — of total abstinence. Mrs. Havorbee. Oh, dear me, no — I couldn't think of 74 THE WASTREL HOARD. it I have neither — [Looking at Flint] — husband, nor — [Looking at Mary] — chick nor child. Oh, no. I couldn't give up my cocktail ! — Not at my time of life ! Mrs. Morse. You are, indeed, unfortunate. No mother- woman, who has prepared a child for the world and desires to prepare the world for her child, would feed it habits or countenance women drinking or smoking cigarettes. BuLLARD. It is regrettable, Mr. Flint, you hadn't — [Looking at Mary] — a son to turn your work over to. Flint. If I had, I probably shouldn't. It seems to be less than one generation from shirtsleeves to the wrist- watch. I have seen few sons qualifying for big jobs. Mrs. Morse. [She has suspended her interruption dur- ing that of BuLLARD.] No mother could say that, Mrs. Havorbee. It is just as I always say. Better have a Court of Mothers at The Hague — that'll at least assure peace. BuLLARD. You must be there. Mrs. Morse. There ought to be an American woman there to look after you. Russell, you should go. [Bullard squirms.] You have a friend there. [Mary looks up as if in inquiry.] Russell. [Furtively.] He is a very good friend. [Mary appears satisfied. Bullard hastens to change the subject.] Bullard. By the way, Senator, you were not at the Opera Directors' meeting today. Senator Morse. I've been rather neglectful lately. The Peace Society met. You discussed opera in English. I'm sorry I wasn't present. Victor. A very stormy meeting — the Krupp gunman's Brtinnhilde against the made in America maid. [Mary feigns appreciative laughter which rings hoi- low.] Bullard. What do you think. Senator, of the plan to send a promising American singer abroad to stucly? THE WASTREL HOARD. 75 Senator Morse. Splendid! BuLLARD. Would yon make the choice and take charge of the administration of the fund? Senator Morse. I should be delighted. BuLLARD. Well, Mr. Merwin is ready to put fifty thou- sand dollars into your hands tomorrow. Robert Thorburn is his attorney in these matters. It'll be all right. Senator Morse. I'll be glad to co-operate with him. Mrs. Morse. I'll still continue to stand up for Mr. Merwin. Bullard. Well, Merwin doesn't care who sings the songs of a country so long as he can underwrite its bond issues Victor. Merwin 's scale has only one note, then ! Bullard. What's that? Victor. Dough ! Eh ! Mary. [Patronizingly. "[ Clever! Bullard. That's good ! Alice. With the music of life a monotone ! Victor. That makes it real harm money ! Eh ! Mrs. Havorbee. Victor. Do be serious! Mary. He is ! Victor. {Turning to Mary with a conquering smile.'] Thank you. [Noting that attention continues, Victor makes another start.] The Suffragettes have reached Washington at last. Mrs. Havorbee. They are brave women. Mrs. Morse. In what way? Mrs. Havorbee. Because they do not fear prejudice. Victor. The English women don't fear anything. Eh ! Mrs. Morse. They don't fear even God! Victor. They certainly put the rage in suffrage. Mrs. Havorbee. Our women are wiser; they use smiles [Giving a sample] instead of brickbats. We are the 7-age! Victor. What has that got you ! Mrs. Havorbee. Politically, not much ! Until the men's parties recognize us we sliall have to work as best 76 THE WASTREL HOARD. we can through our own weak women's organization. But equal suffrage is not a sex right. It is a human right. It is the right of self-government. The women's party would benefit all political parties. It would drive out all politi- cians who would restrict the common rights. Victor. Say, Alice, to what party does your father be- long? Eh! BuLLAED. That's doubtful. It's hard to tell where anybody belongs — eh, Senator? Alice. Mother hasn't any doubt at all. BuLLARD. How's that? All parties look alike to me. They all want to regulate business out of existence. It'll be all right. Alice. Ma says she's the party. Flint. Good ! Alice. Thank you, Uncle Sam. Victor. Is that joke on you or me, Mr. Bullard? Eh! BuLLARD. Both, I guess. Senator Morse. And on me, too ; but it's no joke. Victor. Here's one for you, Mary. Eh ! Alice. [Nervously.] Well? Victor. Why is the machine politician really for equal suffrage? Eh! Mrs. Havorbee. He isn't. Victor. Yes, he is. Even in Mexico. Eh ! Alice. Go ahead. We'll let you tell us. Victor. Well, in Mexico, the women aren't permitted to vote and the men don't dare. That's practical equality. Flint. There's many a Mexico right here in the United States. German Liquor Interests hold a veto on all Amer- ican votes — of private citizens, candidates, and officials. Mrs. Morse. Women may do much useful, practical work in politics without the vote. Senator Morse. And we'd be better off with less vot- ing and more public service. Every public business should be run by the government. There should be no esprit de corps in this country less broad than patriotism ! TEE WASTREL HOARD. 77 BuLLARD. You are planning a government for work, Senator. You can't do that with the present school of poli- ticians. These Jacks-in-Office only know how to chew the rag, graft, take orders, and traffic in public jobs at three times the value of the service — and — in the votes of the mob. It's bad enough outside with the labor unions, but in public jobs, if they were paid by piece work, they wouldn't earn their salt. We are paying now to thousands of re- tired bartenders more than to generals and college presi- dents. The civil service is, to say the least against it, a nest of privileged incapacity and inexperience. Admit all this — they are really paid, not for work, but for the place they take in the organization. Senator Morse. That's the beauty of my plan. It will make unnecessary this organization. It will breed a new school. That is the deeper fact. The disintegration of proprietary political parties must proceed in exact pro- portion to the growth of the civil service. In a settled civil service, the public could get ten times the result and give honest, steady jobs, that families are brought up on, to five times the number of men for the present outlay. Each would become, thus, a soldier for the public good, and, as a pledge of devotion to the nation that keeps him and his in peace, would assume an obligation to fight for that peace, both in preventing and ending war. It's the present way of running the government that makes politics just a waste- ful business war to keep the politicians alive. Eliminate the saloon, Bullard, as the cornerstone of politics, and divide up the fifty per cent, tribute by officeholders, be- tween them and the government. It is alcohol that has de- teriorated men and government and private and public business for centuries. It menaces the very nation. Bullard. Government's chief work now is minding somebody else's business. Senator Morse. And somebody else is interested to control the government. Your friends make allies of the practical politicians. They can't be good Americans. 78 TEE WASTREL EOARD. BuLLARD. We own the soft impeachment. When there's one gim between two duellists, it's suicide to let the other fellow get it. This is the age of "steal." Senator Morse. That's a hint for the public. BuLLARD. We despise them as grafters, yet, I suppose, the alliance seems natural. You remember Ingomar, Sen- ator — "Two souls " Flint. {Cutting in on Bullard^s speech, hacking his chair off for action, and commanding Bullard^s silence and the attention of the rest.] Yes, yes, Mr. Bullard, I saw Ingomar. "Two souls with but a single thought — [Flint becomes dramatic, looks skyicard, puts both hands to his heart and raises them ivith the speech in the direction of his gaze] — "Two hearts that beat as one." Mary. [With cruel dryness, and conscious of stealing her father's political '"business," as he has stolen that of her profession.] To beat the American people. [At the word ''American/- Mary unconsciously picks up the small flag at her place and toys with it nervously between her speeches.] Bullard. They use the politicians primarily as a means of getting meddlers to let their activities alone. Those who stir up discontent are enemies of the people. We say, in the language of Burke : "Applaud us " [Flint interrupts Bullard as before and completes the quotation.] Flint. "Applaud us when we run, console us when we fall, Cheer us when we recover, but let us pass on, for God's sake, let us i)ass on." Bullard. [Taking the interruption good-naturedly.] That's it. What the rich do is of no concern of the public. Envy of another's prosperity is the world's greatest men- ace. Millionaires are but the froth upon the beer of our political system. [Sardonically.] Chance, as a realty owner, is but a ground swell on the social sea. THE WASTREL HOARD. 79 Victor. That's my point of view. Large fortunes and big business are inseparable incidents of general prosper- ity. The average poor man lives happily and respectably. That is all / can hope to do. I enjoy the luxuries of life but / am ivilling to do without the necessities. / sympa- thize with the poor, but the trouble is their poverty is so habitual, you simply can't help them. But, then, as a matter of fact, even poverty has a lot of advantages. Mary. It takes a mighty rich man to see them. BuLLARD. The world's work must go on. Mary. And leave humanity in the rut. Victor. My part may not equal [Bullard holds up his hand to check Victor.] BuLLARD, Stop! Never apologize for yourself — until you have accomplished something — and then — well, you w^on't need to. Alice. It seems to me that the doings of the rich are matters of vital public concern. The burdens of inequality rest very lightly upon the rich. Victor. [Without meaning, looking at Mrs. Havob- BBE^ and as if floored.] And upon the women? Eh ! Mary. Upon some women. Alice. Are not women equal to men? Victor. Some of them are equal to anything. Eh ! Mrs. Havorbeb. Indeed they are — and often where men are not. The men do let you pass on, Mr. Bullard. The women won't. When lovely woman stoops to folly! Bullard. The women don't now. But they have their own methods. Mrs. Morse. Their influence is through the home. Bullard. Not always. Some work outside. Mrs. Morse. Indeed ! That's unwomanly. It's a men- ace to society. Bullard. If they will play the fiddle, they must stand the music. Nature must have its course. Victor. As a menace, the modern girl-sport is — more 80 THE WASTREL HOARD. deadly than the male. Eh! [Victob, emharrasted by shocked silence.] Why, every hotel in New York is a Hay- market ! Alice. [Pointedly.] If they'd only confine their at- tentions to one another. Mrs. Havoebeb. Let the Bowery at least be kept out of Fifth Avenue. Let them arrest the men! Flint. Correct ! They are a part of the home ! Mrs. Havorbee. The State is the larger home. Th« home isn't the four walls of the house. Mrs. Morse. In one way that is true. Mrs. Havorbee. Is woman's sphere the home when, outside, man has surrounded her children with evil? Mrs. Morse. Created, for the most part, my dear, by women, who are evil because they are outside the home. BuLLARD. [Persisting.] Or in other people's homes. Mrs. Morse. Perhaps that's better. Mrs. Havorbee. I'll tell you a secret. What the real suffrage leaders — of wealth and social position — want ia careers in politics — like their men. [BuLLARD directs his speech at Mary.] BuLLARD. When a woman knows her own mind about what concerns herself, it'll be time to turn it to what con- cerns others. Mrs. Morse. We should give the home a vote. BuLLARD. But in every case where husband and wife do not agree, the home would be disfranchised. Now the man casts the home vote. Mrs. Morse. If women are to vote, I'd have only moth- ers and fathers vote — and that in proportion to their con- tribution to the future. Ben Frauklin's mother would have had seventeen votes. Heaven forbid that the childless shall lead us. Parents would seldom disagree. The world talks much about brotherhood and just now it is sisterhood that desires to be heard, but both come only through fatherhood THE WASTREL HOARD. 81 and motherhood and that is the key to all common in- terests in household and humanity. [BuLLARD continues to direct his words at Mary.] BuLLARD. That's it. Only the woman whose own house is in order, should come into the open to iiscuss public morals. A man may be produced against her ! [Mrs. Morse notes Bullari/s attitude, senses a purpose, and watches Bullard narrowly.] Mary. Do you work in the open? [Mary clenches the flag in her right hand.] Bullard. [With feigned jocularity.] Oh, I'm known to be harmless. Nobody fears, for instance, I'd steal an- other man's wife or come between friends. Mary. Is it for that the rest must be forgiven you? Bullard. To one who would, nothing can be forgiven. Her shame is of the light, not of the thing. She'd sell her soul to save her name. She is admired but craves respect. Mary. The weak woman is the tell-tale of your unfit- ness. As an evil, you are no more necessary than the other. A single instance at your own door is an earthquake. Yet the conditions which foster all vice are your own creation and its untold profits go with your permission to the po- litical machine; your friends could wipe out the liquor traffic and all that goes with it by one stroke of the pen. In that, as in everything, you don't ask why there is poverty and vice; need is the one motive in extenu- ation you will not accept. To you the tragedy is but an episode while every true woman feels it might well be her own story I Our "best people' drive the poor to vice and try to segregate it and them — together. Therein and in everything the great social crime of indifference does its work. To be calm is little better than to scoff! What woman is there who oughtn't to rise against this? Bullard. You don't ask her name? Mary. Yes — and name a man worthy to protest 82 THE WASTREL HOARD. BuLLARD. [Jocosely.] The law of slander forgives everything save the mention of names. [The flag in Maey^s hand hecomes conspicuous as she gesticulates.] KussELL. [Quietly, to urge Mary to desist.] Please! Mrs. Morse. Mary, dear! Flint. Daughter ! Mary. [During this speech Mary uses the flag uncon- sciously in her gestures.] No, I shall not be silent! I shall make my voice heard in behalf of those who have been voiceless. [Mrs. Havorbbb shows interest, rises, and com- mences to clap her hands.] When amid general homeless ness and helplessness women seek their selfish rights, they complete the tragedy of this generation. [Mrs. Havorbeb sits down without applauding and shows a lack of inter- est, hut Mrs. Morse gives a sign of apjyroval.] Trouble is like the air, not to be confined. When any suffer, everybody pays. Our "poor little rich boy" [Victor looks at her ques- tioningly and all eyes are turned on him] hopes to live happily and respectably — as the average poor man does. [Victor looks relieved and nods approval. Flint and Bul- lard rivet their eyes on Mary,] The average poor man has a home. It is a small place, but there are those who love it, and that is what makes the world happy and respectable — despite the discouragement to decent living which grind- ing poverty in the midst of maddening opulence brings. [Russell has shown anxiety about Mary's ability to carry it off up to this point, but he assumes and maintains an attitude of growing confidence and admiration. Victor looks nettled.] "Sir Youthful" — despite his condescension — never had a home, and though he multiply his unused villas, mansions, and palaces, he never can have one and can never knovi^, doomed as he is to think forever about himself, the peace, the intimate joys, [Victor appears at first interested and then fascinated. The others become respectful and attentive] which, despite the privations and THE WASTREL HOARD. 83 the hunger they endure to keep him in luxuries, even the starved child-souls of the poorest family in his thousand ill-kept tenements know. [Victor visibly weakens in his dissent and sinks into his seat. Bullakd notes the change in Victoe's attitude. Senator and Mrs. Morse exchange glances, disclosing concern for their duties (W hosts. BULLARD shows alarm and decides to haz- ard an inquiry.] BuLLARD. Are you speaking with knowledge of par- ticular facts? [Mary rises to her feet hut answers ivithout looking at Bullard, as if assuming the interruption to he captious; her attitude toward Bullard discloses a trace of cunning.] Mary. No good man could be happy with so much money while so many are without the chance of such a life. [Bullard appears relieved. Victor parses his hand over his eyes as if to dispel a distressing thought. Alice studied him with tense eagerness.] Each million of his estate rep- resents one thousand children cheated of their birthright, the foundation torn from a thousand homes, and the whole represents one young man, the plaything of his own desires, and of the schemes of financial jackals, robbed of the com- mon birthright, the power to work out his own salvation. [Victor staggers as a prisoner receiving a jury's verdict of conviction. Alice is visibly moved by his pain, hut pleased at his sensitiveness to the criticism. Mary takes in this situation, gives a sign of letting up on Victor, and turns icith bitterness to Bullard.] That's what big fortunes mean — the birthright of the people sacrificed to the alleged birthright of the over-rich. And the Bullard Pacific Bill is what they mean in politics ; it is the culmination of the conspiracy against the average home. [Bullard rises. Flint turns to give him a look of challenge. Bullard shrugs his shoulders as if to say, ^^Whaf's the use?"] While 84 THE WASTREL HOARD. millions are habitually underfed, there are thousands who see the money coming in so fast they don't know what banks or bonds to put it in. Vast sums of money give men power, not only over things but over people; property in vast amounts should be as little subject to inheritance in a free country as political power. The rich now make the poor pay them for the right to live and poor men are not ashamed to do it. You buy each at his price, man or woman. But children can't pay, and the tax on their right to live is murder. Women who can be indifferent to their own trag- edies but not to this are what the future of America de- mands — not those who can tolerate the perpetual multipli- cation of monej without effort by its possessors and the almost annihilation of individual power to rise. Let you pass on! When you let the coming generation pass on! When you give back what has been taken ! Applaud us if we run ; console us, if we fall ; cheer us if we recover, and let us pass on ; for God's sake, let us pass on. [Mary weakens, turns her gaze from Bullard to her father, and talks more slowly. Russell pushes his chair hack and gets ready to move toward Mary. She frees herself from her chair and hacks atvay fro7}i the tahle, as if retreating from a dreaded ohject, and comes jyerilously near the edge of the stairs. Victor appears sympathetic and apprehensive.^ I demand it in the name of a race that is being preyed upon and con- sumed in the bud, of every woman who loves, who is a wife, who is a mother — [Mary gulps, her speech hccomes thick; she seems to have lost all sense of her surroundings] — and of the children, and — [Mary mumhles] — be it ever so hum- ble — [As if in despair] — infants — crying — they were born of a woman — just as Christ was born — [As if in terror] — no candle was there — and — [As if shivering] — no — tire — it is dark — [Weakly] — and bitter cold — they are human, too — and — [Mary faints and falls to the floor at the edge of the stairs, and, hefore those nearest can prevent, rolls to the hottom of the staircase.] Mrs. Morse. Help her, John! TEE WASTREL HOARD. 85 [All start to crowd around her. Victor raises her and with Russell brings her down stage ani places her on the sofa. The flag is seen still to be clenched in Maey^s right hand.] Victor. [As if the situation had brought the young men suddenly into intimacy.] This girl's a brick! Isn't she, Russell? Eh! A regular major-general ! Isn't she? Eh! Russell. You are quite right, Victor — quite right. Mrs. Havorbee. [Bringing an untouched glass of cognac from the table.} A little drop of brandy helps— a— fall. Mrs. Morse. Let me have some water. Give us room. I'm sorry, but you would better go into the library. [As the guests go out by door at bach of banquet room, the chimes strike once and the distinctness of the sound indicates the opening and closing of the door. A short interval afterward the smaller clock strikes twice. Then the clock above is heard to strike twice; then once the clock below.] Senator Morse. Shall we call Doctor Childs? Mrs. Morse. It isn't necessary. She has only fainted. SheUl be all right in a moment, Mary. I want my mother. I want to go home to my mother. [Mrs. Morse speaks to the musicians and they go out silently at the right.] Mrs. Morse. She'll be all right now. [She goes over to Senator Morse.] John, I believe Bullard brought this on deliberately. The girl has a secret. We must help her keep it — even from ourselves. Senator Morse. You are one woman in a million. [Russell and Victor leave Mary as Flint ap- proaches. Bullard engages Russell in conversa- tion. 1 86 THE WASTREL HOARD. BuLLARD. Let me give you a last warning. Be careful of other people's reputations or you will lose yours — and perhaps more. Beware of the black list. Merwin never forgets. Many a man in just your situation has been found missing. Good God ! My boy ! Can't you see I am think- ing only of you? [Russell remains silent hut stares after Bullaed as BuLLARD goes out.] Flint. That's right, daughter. We'll go together. Will you forgive me? Mary. There's nothing to forgive. You were right. But I can't go back. / — must — go forward. [Senator Morse goes up to Flint and puts Ms right hand on Flint^s shoulder.] Senator Morse. Sam, there should be n^ place like home for a girl. It's our fault if that isn't so. Flint. What a girl I have brought up ! And I never suspected it! She has actually introduced me to myself I Senator Morse. The coming generation must always be a closed book to us. We wonder that they dance because we no longer hear the music in their souls. Flint. And I wanted to imprison my girl in a. small town. She's an old man's child. Our children inherit all our experience. We scarcely notice how they grow ! Senator Morse. She's done what I told you to do, Sam — come to New York. The country's growing, too I Flint. No big city for me. I prefer to live in America. Senator Morse. We are cosmopolitan. It's within us ! Flint. You are a cluster of Ghettoes, little Italics, Sokols, singing societies, and turn vereins. Senator Morse. Well, for the girl's sake. It is hard for a girl to stay alone and no "pent-up Utica" will ever confine her powers. She's a typical American girl ! Flint. Or America, either. Even as a child, she seemed to see the whole wide world! Is that American? THE WASTREL HOARD. 87 Senator Morse. Let's send her to Europe. By Jove I The Merwin scholarship! Now, I wonder if Bullard Flint. [As if rising to great generosity.^ I'll pay myself. I've a good will to do it! It would really be a j^ood investment ! Senator Morse. She wouldn't take it. Flint. Tell her I am opposed to it. That will decide her all right. Senator Morse. I'll go further. I'll make her win in competition. PYint. I'll never again doubt her ability to do any- thing. Senator Morse. That's the way for a father to talk. You should have started that years ago. Mrs. Morse. We must leave her alone for a while. [All go out excepting Russell, who has escaped the ohservation of the rest. The lights are dimmed. The scene is the same as at the rising of the cur- tain. 1 Russell. Are you all right? Mary. [Rising. Her manner betrays the fact that her fainting and acting icere not purely voluntary. She con- iinues to make us of the flag.] I didn't faint. I was act- ing; Bullard threatened us and I was afraid. The swoon was a checkmate to his cruel play and — such a relief to me ! The temptation was great. There was father. I wanted to let him know my views, and I wanted to give you your pro- gram. Now you know that I can act, and I know that I jiiust. Think of it, the pretense, the deception, the simu- lated courage, and to have to rise above it all and conquer. I will pray God for strength — to — deceive — and I shall v.ork with all my being to grow in power and charm and influence, to match the resources of Bullard's friends and to undermine him in the end. I can afford to sing now. I shall be acting every moment of my life. What a plot ! An unfortunate girl against the hold-up of the human race. T seem to carry the whole world in my breast, to touch the 88 TEE WASTREL HOARD. stars, and possess the infinite. I feel as if all the American girls in Christendom and all those that are to be were standing here within me and as if all American spirit were mine, and the world my stage. What a marvellous curtain ! What a brilliant audience! On one side are they. The curtain is drawn aside. On the other side am I. The theatre of life. I'll do a woman's part. EussBLL. You are the most womanly of all women. Mary. No. I am too like father. That's what I blame him for, and that's why he blames me. Russell. "Out of strength comes sweetness." You'll let me take care of you, won't you? Tell me what it is Mary. No. Russell. But I have the right. Mary. That's just why [Mary checks herself. Russell holes at her in- quiringly.] Russell. Yes ? Mary. I mean Russell. What? Mary. Well, when I was a little girl and father wished to be cross to mother and to me, mother always said, "Don't let the child suffer. She is innocent. Whatever the sins of parents, no one has rights against children. They don't ask to come. The whole world owes duties toward them." I believed that then. I know it now. I am going away. Your duties are here. I know you will do yours. You may trust me to do mine. No child will be without its chance, if I have my way. You — must go now. [Mary turns from Russell and walks toward the door. Russell watches her for a moment, then calls to her softly.] Russell. Mary! [Mary turns, the moonlight is ob- scured.] Mary ! One last kiss. [Mary walks toward the window. Russell comes up to her. Mary faces Russell.] THE WASTREL HOARD. 89 Mary, You are a man, aren't you? Lock your arms behind you and keep them there. Remember — one ! [Mary puts a hand on each of Russell^s shoulders and kisses him on the lips. Russell stands his ground.] You are a man. Russell. My arms don't think so ! Mary. Be proud of them. They beckon and caress from there ! Russell. Have you nothing to tell me? Mary. That / shall have a saving pride. Russell. There's a reservation working against me in your mind. Mary. If there were, it would not be so hard for me. Russell. Will you write to me? Mary. No. That is not in my role. Russell. May I write to you? Mary. What a question to ask! Russell. And you will once in a while? Mary. No. I will come back. I have had faith. It is your turn now. [Mary swallows, braces herself, assumes an attitude of great firmness, turns her face from Russell. wheels around, points to the door he is facing and speaks in a hard, unnatural voice.] Good-bye. Russell. [Twrns to look at her as if to plead, struggles with himself, yields, speaks in a voice full of sadness, ten- derness, and respect.] Good-bye. [Turns, hoios his head, and walks out of the door without turning again.] Mary. [Looking after Russell and speaking, in a soh, only after he ha^ gone.] Russell ! Russell ! ! [Mary stands a moment, faces the audience, hursts into tears, kneels hy the divan, sobs and suggests that she is praying. She bows her head. As her head falls, her lips touch the flag held in her folded hands. Awakened to consciousness of the flag, she regards it a moment through her tears, raises it slightly in both hands, lets it drop, raises THE WASTREL HOARD. 90 her head, swallows, assumes an attitude of reso- lution, brightens up, and looks for a considerable time into space, as if into the future, until the fall of the curtain.] Curtain. ACT III. Before the rising of the curtain, the orchestra plays selections from Madame Butterfly, the ''Tavan" ar- rangement, with emphdsis upon and recurrence to the melody of "Un bel di vedremo." Andante motto calmo. J . 12 B)Mtr/}y. ^gM p P ff I r ^ ^ One. tti„ fine day well no - • ticc M di, tt - drt - aw, A U •• thread of amoke a - ris - ing on the aaa In Ibt far bo • cor • titm fil di fu - tna sui - iV • tin • ma cm-fin det ri - - XOD, And then ma - re. £ foi.... n 0.POCCIN1. the ahip ap - pear * iuz- la na - etafi - fa - re.... CcvnUIMSMtf lUkerO a Oo. new BiaiiaB.Cci7rl(Iil 190eti7 ajHocr4i a<^ fly fie Tly^d^f/.. 'yeace^ fy^i- (J/'ya'Tic-e 7' Wc? ^y^a-ce lyaccc ACT III. The Ante-Chamber of the Uall of Arbitrations of the Palace of Peace, at The Hague, two years and five months after the close of Act II. The stage is divided as in the first and second Acts, the principal room being at the back of the stage on a higher level than the Ante-Chamber, and seen through a wide door in the centre of the stage. Over the bench and extending its full width is an im- pressive symbolic oil painting. It is the allegorical group of the great French painter, Albert Besnard, entitled '^ Peace." A female figure is seen seated, lis- tening to the pleadings of two litigants. One of these is arguing with vehemence, and the woman lifts a hand to stop him that she 7nay hear the other pleader. Below arc two armed icarriors, tcho, their differences having been settled, ride off in opposite directions. In the foreground, and seemingly detached from the rest of the composition, the symbolic figure of Peace rises as an apparition carrying a child in her arms. The Hall of Arbitrations is lighted as if by sunlight streaming through stained-glass tvindows extending the entire left side. The walls of the Ante-Chamber are in grey Delft tiles. At the right, just outside the Court Room door, is a temporary telegraph office. As persons cross the stage and enter the Court Room, they remain visible in the Court Room through the door. The movement of pages, attendants and lackeys preparing the Court Room, is visible through- out the act, but they are out of earshot. The characters^ of the play can be heard and observed, as in the first and second acts, both far and near, and from their first coming into view are seen talking and fully occupied with what concerns them, using the words of the play only from the moment they come within earshot. At the left of the door are telephone booths. In the centre 9i THE WASTREL HOARD. is a table with periodicals and newspapers ar- ranged in rows. Leather-covered easy chairs are in convenient positions. Leading from the rear of the telegraph office is a door. The interior of the telegraph office is visible to the audience through a glass door, so placed as not to bring the interior of the • office within the view of persons on the stage. Portraits of William the Silent, Jan Van Olden-Barneveldt, and Hugo Grotius decorate the walls of the Ante-Chamber. National arms and flags are in appropriate positions. Tulips, hyacinths, gladiolas, and other Dutch flowers are here and there in profusion. As the curtain rises slowly, the impressive scene is dom- inated by the figure of the woman with babe in arms in the foreground of the painting "Peace-', upon which the sunlight streaming through the unseen windows at the right sheds a. flood of glory. Throughout this Act and the next, this poignant figure, in wonderful relief against the background of the painting, seems to sense the situations that develop within her view and to set up against what is said a contrasting view- point, quite unlike that of blind Justice with the scales, symbolized by the balance of olive branch and child. F^or a moment after the rising of the curtain the situa- tion is static. The click of a telegraph instrument calls attention to Hugo Culp_, seated behind the counter ex- plaining the Morse code to small red-cheeked boys by ticking out a telegram and repeating as follows: — . . . B . — A . . . R . .0 — . N. ''Baron." . . . . H . . — U . G . . O. "Hugo." . . . — V . — A — . N. ''Van." — . . D . E . . . — V . E — . N — T . E . . . R. "Deventer." ....H .—A .G ..— U .E. "Hague." L . — A — .. D .. .. Y. "Lady." . —A . . . R . . . R . . I ... — V . E . . . S. "Arrives." H .—A .G ..— U .E. "Hague." — T . . O — . . D . - A . . . . Y. "Today." THE WAHTREL HOARD. 95 M —A . .. R .. .. Y . E. «] yfarye." ^ M . E . .. R .. I . ,. . C . —A N. "American." . — -A M — ... B A ... S ... S . — A — .. D . . R. "Ambassador." . .. R .. — I; ... S . . . S . . I . — A. "Russia." The sound of the closing of a door is heard. Gulp rises quickly, signals and says, '"Ga in het Kantoor" to the hoys, loho hasten into the office, and, still holding the telegram in his hand, busies himself examining the fixtures of his office and testing the apparatus. Gulp keeps the telegram always in evidence until he finally shotvs it to Mary. As he moves about he alternately whistles and hums and sings a Dutch song. He wears a pointed heard and flowing moustache and dresses his hair in imita- tion of Grotius. Gulp is of giant stature, has a very hearty laugh, that is infectious, and an easy sense of humor that sets off his laughter at the least excuse. The first action is the entrance of Mary and the entire significance of her intervention in the situation in this Act and the next is expressed in her grasp of the identity of her attitude with that of the figure of "Peace." At every opportune moment, from her first step into the Court-Room, Mary fairly devours the painting toith her gase. [Enter Mary, from the left, gowned in the latest fashion, ^he is accompanied by Norah, a maid, disguised as a lady. There is about Mary an at- mosphere of charm, poicer, and perfection — of the American girl become the exquisite cosmopolitan woman of intellect, smartness, and distinction. There is a suggestion of sensuous allurement and of possible passion controlled by a will of steel, and tempered by a pliant and keen humor. She radiates a magnetism wholly feminine. This is evidenced by the attitude of Gulp, icho is him- 96 TEE WASTREL HOARD. self unobserved hy Mary^ and has interrupted his song at her entrance. In her first glance about the Ante-Chamher and Court Room she runs the whole gamut of facial expression. At her first pause, her splendid changing eyes, full of storm and color, drift from the sea gray of an autumn sky to the piercing whiteness of the fixed gaze of the American eagle — then, smiling, sweetly, sadly, and tenderly in succession, as if in joy at the at- tainment of a goal long sought, and in reminis- cence and anticipation combined, she suggests not only control of her forces for summoning and communicating emotion, but how wonderful these forces are. Before Mary is fairly on the stage, she stops, turns to Norah, and addresses her in a low tone — almost with bated breath.] Mary. This — this is the place, Norah — the Hall of Arbitrations. Norah. Yes, madame. Mary. Now, you drive right back to Scheveningen, Norah, and remain at the cottage every moment until I come — no bathing, even. Norah. Yes, madame. Mary. And keep Miss Fanning within call when she goes on the beach. NoRAH. Yes, madame. Mary. In answer to all inquiries, you are stupid for- eigners ; you know nothing, understand nothing. Norah. Yes, madame. Mary. And if you have no word from me over night, seek out Senator Morse here and inquire. Norah. Yes, madame. Mary. That's all, Norah, Yon may go. Norah. Very well, madame. [Noeah turns to go.] Mary. And, Norah TEE WASTREL HOARD. 97 NoRAH. Yes, madame. Mary. Be careful — of — the night — air — you know. [NoRAH smiles as she goes out.] NoRAH. Yes, madame, I know. Good-bye, madame. Mary. Good-bye, Norah. [Mary looks about cautiously and goes into the Court Room. Finding that room empty, she returns and observes Culp_, ivho, having tvatched her suf- ficiently while her hack was turned, now resumes CULP. [Singing. "l mau L O NeKjerltuidl let op a saedc. De tyt en stoat la <]•«, Op-dat na is < bo«ck Diet neck U riilbeit die voorwier XJ oodan b«Ui«o dier gecocbt Uet go«t «o bloet ao le-ven: Waotay werd nu gutacb eo t^ e»nemMl geeocbt Tot Diet te z\]Dver ■ b»TaD. Neemt acbt op uwer Ludeo etact, U volck end* 8t«deo Dieeet 8^0 sttjck end' daer is raet eo daot Vao 0Dt3 altyt geweut V adel is macbaftich Troom, Ken viud met ba«n gelijcktoi *^nC Spatuaert docb, \tk bid u, in deo tboom Dat tj) van ods «acb wi)ckaD. Beecbut, bescbemt, bewaard d tand. Let op bet Spaecscb bedrogl E)), Uet Diet oemeo utJt u baud V PrevtJegieD tocbi Uaar tbooot u eick eao man vol raoet Id 't boudeo vao u watten, BoTci al dieol Ood eo valt bem steata la voa Dat bit op u oiacb letteo. 98 THE WASTREL HOARD. his song and pretends to he busy with the appara- tus. He assumes an air of importance. Maey sings the Dutch song inaudihly in time with Culp, and with appropriate facial expression and ges- tures. At the last bar she sings the words and music with him. As he stops singing, she ad- dresses him, saying : "Good morning" to him suc- cessively in Dutch, German, French, Spanish, Italian, and Russian.] Mary. Goedenmorgen, Meneerl Guten morgen, mein Herr! Bon jour, Monsieur! Buenos dias, Cahallero! Buon giorno, Signor! Dobroie outro, Gospodin! Bejour! {At each salutation Culp, pretending not to hear, turns from one instrument to another. As Mary becomes petulant, Culp^s amusement becomes ap- parent. He has the sense of coming enjoyment which always accompanies restraint in a Dutch- man's conversation and an anticipatory relish of long-winded discourse. Suddenly he turns about, with mirth ill-concealed.] CULP. Good morning, Miss, what can I do for you? Mary. You speak English? Gulp. No. [Leaning on the counter and assuming an attitude in imitation of a Yankee country storekeeper, into ivhich character Gulp drops in order to "point" the "com- edy" or to afford relief for the preaching, when the situa- tion permits, which character, however, is abjured for the pose of majesty when the preaching requires dignity or a flight of eloquence rises "to the height of this great argu- ment."] I speak American. Mary. Are you in charge of this telegraph office? Gulp. I am. Mary. And an American? Gulp. I was born a Dutchman, went to New York, be- came an American citizen, came back to Holland, and be- came a Dutchman again. THE WASTREL HOARD. 99 Mary. Whenever I hear a man whistling, I can't tell whether he's a Yankee or a Dutchman. CuLP. If he wets his whistle To keep up his Dutch courage ? Mary. CULP. Mary. better. Gulp. He is an American still. Please say ''Still an American." It sounds I have been both. [Mary laughs.] Mary. That is a Dutch defense ! You mean both Dutch and American? Which do yon call your country now? Gulp. I came home to get married. Mary. "The Girl I Left Behind Me." men march into battle by. Gulp. I marched back home to it. bars of the popular Dutch song.] ''In Holland staat een huts; In Holland staat een huis." [A page hoy comes out of the telegraph office, whis- tling "Wien Neerlandsch Bloed."] That's the tune [Gulp sings the l^fj^ rt+f=F= ± JTj j . H^4-&d H^^Vn f i 3 r r 1 — 1 — J— « — »■ ^ ft. s g r -!^ r ' *HfMi '— ^^ "- 1 I — ' ^M = • rzr-r—. ,^1,... ^J^^J) rm J It 1 J fTt J- r^^^^ ^^ ^k =?.=4^ -\ r\ jr -« i -i »-^ ' r r r r . Ij' ^ - -r 1 t *■ -y — iNn==-=^ -^ — Mi — ^^ 'i-rrrjd U—h- 100 THE WASTREL HOARD. [Gulp turns quickly and says to him in Dutch, ''Genoeg gefloeten. Ga in het hantoorJ^ The hoy hursts out laughing, and says, "Ja, Meneer," hows low, turns and goes into the telegraph office. These hoys are very young and have round faces, tcith fat flaming red cheeks.] Mary. How many windmills did her father offer? Gulp. I came for her alone. I couldn't stay away. A man's country is where his best girl is. Love is needing. That is what makes children's love so beautiful. And patriotism ! All are parts of the same — sweet song ! Mary. Pardon me, Mr. Gulp. Gulp, Miss, Hugo Gulp, named for Hugo De Groot [Gulp points to the portrait of Grotius], author of "The Law of War and Peace," written while the Pilgrim Fathers were shooting the Redskins, whom Penn, likewise the author of a plan for the Peace of Europe, conquered M'ith brotherly love. De Groot's book, of all works not claiming divine inspiration, has proved the greatest bless- ing to humanity, and more than any other has promoted the blessings of peace and diminished the horrors of war. [Mary smiles at this recital and prepares to fence.'] Mary. Indeed — and what made you take me for an American ? Gulp. It's tulips and tomboy in blend — full-blown. When my little girl grows up I'm going to send her to America to get it. Mary. [Thrown off her guard, and with awakened in- terest.] How old is she? Gulp. Four, next December. Mary. And a boy? Gulp. He'll be two, next Fourth of July. Mary. [Excitedly.] No ! Why, that's my — [Catching herself. She involuntarily clutches for an ohject at her corsage just above the heart as if to make sure of its pres- ence.] Why, you know what the Fourth of July is? Aren't boys dear ! TEE WASTREL HOARD. 101 CuLP. It's been a boy year in Europe. They are dear, indeed. They are said to mean war. Maby. We never hear that — or any of this war lore. Gulp. Yet it affects you — and us, too. My boy Mary. If he had only been born in the United States. What would he not have been, had he been an American ! Gulp. I've thought of that ! You see, I have the Ameri- can spirit. Maey. What do you take to be the real American spirit? Gulp. Belief in yourself — faith in humanity ! Mary. Then, why did you leave the United States? [Gulp hesitates, then makes a gesture of making light of a serious subject and of hesitancy in speaking frankly.] Gulp. Too many closed avenues — too little living thought — I was too independent. I'm like the native wom- en — I couldn't be President — so I quit. Mary. One must be otherwise eligible. Gulp. Why, Europe's full of my kind. You couldn't assimilate them. Mary. But where is their allegiance? Gulp. To an idea. They want the government that stands for it. Mary. A symbol — what the American eagle stands for ! Gulp. The American eagle certainly stands for a lot. Mary. Would they fight against us? Gulp. Government's insurance is what it gives the peo- ple to fight for. Every labor union in America is an "International," and every leader, like his cousin german from Missouri, is waiting to be "shown." [The great hell in the tower of the Palace of Peace strikes eleven. Gulp pulls out his watch unconsciously and looks at it. Mary looks at her watch.] The new Liberty Bell, the most wondrous that ever clanged, proclaims "Peace Through Justice" for the Supreme Gourt of all the World. 102 THE WASTREL HOARD. Mary. While cannon proclaim this Palace "The Com- edy House of the World." Gulp. A world turning from tragedy at last. Just think ! Diplomats with wit ! Mary. That is not impossible. Gulp. The smallest grain of wit is the undoing of a politician. The dullards actually think Democracy serves only to give common politicians the chance to rob the pub- lic formerly monopolized by the nobility. Of human aspi- rations the diplomat takes no account. "Where your treas- ure is, there will your heart be also." Of real political and diplomatic aspirations, the common people, strangely, take no account. Mary. But should we expect mere place-holders to avert strife? War is an inheritance. Gulp. So was aristocracy. The two go together. The ruling classes will be consumed in their own wars. They are big-gun fodder now, as well as the rank and file. Mary. Down with the nobility — the lords of war? Gulp. Yes — permanent executives, permanent diplo- mats, permanent opulence, permanent warfare, to maintain them, and — permanent poverty! Governments are but weathervanes, the people are the air; when weathervanea stick, their use ends, and danger from the breeze com- mences. Aristocrats! It is descendants that ennoble. Ancestors are the commonest things in the world. My parents brought up fourteen children, and saw them all through Utrecht. That calls for higher qualities than all other feats I know. That's nobility here in the Land of the Stork — or anywhere else. Mary. [Stepping bach to look at ^^ Peace/'] That, in America, is unconstitutional ! Gulp. That's just it. It's an unnatural constitution that can't stand that strain and develop under it. The hand that rocks the cradle THE WASTREL HOARD. 103 [A second hoy comes out of the telegraph office, whistling "Wilhelmus Van Nassauwen."] Mtgrt. 1 K ■^, , 1 .-t-l L— ir^ ^ 1-^ J' J) ^N = ^^ rf4# if- - *— / ^. *# f '-___ w ** 1^ ' ^ ^^ =5^-^ = -rJ=5=J -.^ ^J 1-^ f 1 / J J J J J # I _( ^__, ^ [Gulp ^wrns quickly and says to him in Dutch, "Niei meer fteuten! Ga in het kantoor." The hoy hursts out laughing, and says, "Ja, Meneer/' and hoios low, turns, and goes into the telegraph office.] Mary. [Laughing at Culp.] That's it! First, "let us have peace." The peace movement, too, is in its infancy. The Hague Tribunal is but the embryo of its judicial system. Gulp. The cause of peace thrives only in free countries. The power and influence and the example of America could make the whole world free and peaceful. For three hun- dred years, tiny Holland, surrounded by warring tyran- nies, made the fight alone for peace and democracy. Mary. And the United States first realized democracy. 104 THE WASTREL HOARD. Gulp. No. We gave America its government, its edu- cational system, its law, and its international policy. Mary. Jingo ! "We, the People of the World !" Gulp. Read the American Motley's "The Rise of the Dutch Republic," and "Jan Van Olden-Barneveldt." There's his portrait. [Gulp points to the portrait of Jan Van Olden-Barneveldt.] Why, we gave you the federal sys- tem of government. Jan Van Olden-Barneveldt, on the 12th of May, 1619, had his head chopped off, not far from this very spot, because he believed in the little states' rights. Mary. [Going toward Gulp.] I know. That's what that old Dutch song of yours was about, wasn't it? Gulp. Yes. I am glad you know it. The whole world should. It is the song of liberties protected by the system of government our martyrs died for. And that system, — which unites conflicting elements, nationally or internationally, the most closely by simply dividing them the least — that system now in your keeping, gave to the world, for larger units, the basis for uniting the races of the world in eternal peace, in co-opera- tion, and in liberty and independence under the rule of law. It's the great shock-absorber on the road to bigger ideas in civil government, the answer to the men who do everything for themselves in the name of the state and say, "The state! It is I!" — and rely on destructive force as the sole basis of power and prosperity instead of the broader principles of justice and brotherhood through federation. The Pilgrim Fathers knew Van Olden-Barne- veldt; the founders of what is now New York were his friends. And Hugo De Groot, his young protege Mary. Just a word, please! Gulp. And in education and religious freedom 1 Erasmus, a Dutchman, left the embryo of the modern spirit that Martin Luther dwarfed ! Mary. You'd never know that from the — the — noise. Gulp. True Ghristians should! THE WASTREL HOARD. 105 Mary. [Going to look at "Peace/'] Judging from art, which Gulp. Yes? Mary. Reached its highest development Gulp. [Defiantly.] Where? Mary. [Teasing.] — in Holland, of course. In the red cheeks of Dutch babies. Art and the highest morality are one. The child rules public opinion, fleets, and armies. Gulp. Holland gave the world the first newspaper. Mary. To record Gulp. [Retorting.] — birth notices of red-cheeked in- fants — nothing else. Mary. [Absently.] Nothing else. Gulp. Holland gave the world the first public school Mary. [Coining hack.] For the babies. Gulp. And started public compensation for private in- equality. That was the beginning of modern justice. Mary. [Going toward Gulp.] For the poor parents. Gulp. In the immortal epoch when those of true Eng- lish mind struggled at home and even left home that the Bpirit-purpose of the race might extend throughout the world, Selden, their great jurist, said the sea belonged by divine right to certain governments — and that they owned it, top, sides and bottom ; De Groot said the sea was free, and that every nation has a natural right, so long as it conducts itself as a civilized State, to access to every other nation by water. No war was ever started by a whole people. Holland laid the foundation for peace. Mary. So that the parents could bring up the babies. Gulp. The United States took the Dutch idea and con- vinced England. Mary. Precisely. Gulp. The Dutch are the nearest cousins of the Eng- lish. The best part of the race is in Holland and America. We Dutch and — we — Americans — are — brothers. But a new influence has suppressed the old idea in America. 106 THE WASTREL HOARD. Mary. Within twenty years we have driyen Spanish pule from its last foothold in America. Gulp. Almost four hundred years ago Holland drove the Spanish system into its corner in Europe. Maey. But America Gulp. America, the offspring of the great renaissance of civil glory of England and of Holland, America, the embryo of the world empire of free institutions, of an ever- higher justice, and a larger freedom, an empire that gives every part its chance and scope to be its best, this America, offering vain resistance to everlasting racial traits, fosters the old system, while Holland keeps it out. Mary. Spain? Gulp. No. But it's the old system, away from which the world has been advancing for generations — a race of paupers, worked for the dynasts. War maims the body, but it fires the soul ; war kills the body, but it perpetuates the soul; pauperism starves the body, and it kills the soul. White slavery has many phases. War in defense of a free nation is holy I Mary. Lookout! [Conscious of plagiarism.] Beware of the fixed idea! I saw hordes of soldiers throughout Germany. "Have / not heard great ordnance in the field?" Gulp. [Reminiscing.] The fixed idea! A stock cau- tion of an old friend! [Returning to the fray.] Soldiers! These are only for manoeuvres. Mary. They may believe it. I can't. Well — if they are — what would war be? Who feeds the conscripts ! Look out for this white slavery. Guns are made to shoot. Even when nobody wants war, big guns go off of their own ac- cord. A little nation can be swallowed up and even their own descendants will not remember those who sleep in soldiers' graves. Gulp. Ys^e have no fear. We leave it to the great to ruin their people from fear. With us the military stand- point is identical with the humane one. THE WASTREL HOARD. 107 Mary. Germans say the world's against the Father- land I Gulp. A hospital case — the fixed idea — the twin manias of grandeur and persecution — typical — Furor Teu- tonicus. Every sane nation is a Motherland! Mary. But Holland is always prepared? Gulp. Holland is for peace at any price — payable in advance. You strain at a gnat, we get the camel. Mary. [Going to look at ''Peace/'] Germans say war makes a race efficient. Gulp. But not for humanity. It reduces human beings through efficiency to the status of bees in somebody else's hive. Look out for your own dynasts. Mary. They are, at least, our own. Gulp. You are theirs — and they are aliens. No race was ever enslaved at home. We have no poor. Mary. But the land is fertile. Gulp. We redeemed it from the sea. Our proverb runs : "God made the sea, but we made the shore." And we've kept it ours. That's just it. And if the foreigner comes we'll consign it to the sea again. Poverty cannot exist where tulips bloom. America could take its deserts alone and keep the world in happiness and plenty, without the help of a single one of your two million child laborers. America could close its saloons and have two and a half billion dollars each year to make these children strong American men and women. Is that land yours? Learn about canals and irrigation from us. Gheap transportation is the keystone of the arch of popular well-being and canals are public ways. In Holland as in the United States the path of the canal boat marked the first current of national life on still waters that ran deep. Through it we have eliminated the middleman. No sell-out statesmen! No foreign bankers ! Mary. [Going toward Cvlp.] Ah I The underwriters ! Gulp. Because ours is ours, it yields us threefold in everything, in food, in happiness and 108 TEE WASTREL HOARD. Mary. And babies. That's why you came back. Gulp. Yes. And your unclaimed mines and forests alone would ransom humanity. But you are untrue to yourselves. Your unassimilated races are still owned by your men without a country, your alien, or denaturalized billionaires. Mary. But the American people Gulp. Beneath the surface, does not exist. With vast numbers you have become a surface people. Disgraceful realities don't bother you. You tolerate a civilization of saloon, and slum, and brothel, not your own. It isn't num- bers that beat tyrants. It's brains and character— and [A third hoy comes out of the telegraph office, whis- tling ^'Oranje Boven/'] I Audule iJlffl , 1 r-i n F=F=T m M m fd ^^ I- ^ 5=F^ vy.. ah 1 > > 4 7 -J — n- =x ■^ V ^ vt ^ y=^ t^^— fci t± -\ 1 ^*-U- S V- t^ L_^-* [Gulp turns quicMy and says to him in Dutch, ''Genoeg! Niet meer fieuten! Ga in het Kan- toorr The boy stops whistling, hursts out laugh- ing, and says, ''Ja, Meneer," and hows low, turns and goes into the telegraph office. Mary smiles at the interruption. 1 Mary. And babies! Y^ou know all children love one another. [Going to look at "Peace.''] They are the really great diplomats. The test of a nation is its babies. Gulp. What chance will they have against the alien monopolies their free-born parents delivered them to? The fundamental postulate of democracy is the spiritual equal- ity of all men. How can the spirit exist where private own- THE WASTREL HOARD. 109 ership of public property prevails and unjust private taxa- tion is permitted? Mary. We do not permit that; we fight against it. Gulp. You are fighting in the wrong country. The dynasts have you now. Only real democracy can resist foreign invasion. Your democracy is a hollow imitation. Mary. [Going toward Cvlf.] We could beat the world. Gulp. I've heard of the little American navy under Decatur wiping out, for the first time and for the rest of the world, the Barbary pirates. I've heard the phrase of Minister Pinckney to the French Republic, "Millions for defense, but not one cent for tribute", a moral sentiment then first uttered by a nation; and I've heard of the war of the little American Republic against great England, wielding Neptune's trident as the sceptre of the world, to stop her from impressing American sailors. And the United States Supreme Gourt set aside the grant by the State of New York even to such benefactors of humanity as Livingston and Fulton of the exclusive right of steam navigation on the Hudson River. Not sixty years ago the United States led the world in the abolition of the sound dues charged by Denmark. In 1879, the Secretary of State dared any nation to assert exclusive claims to the Strait of Magellan; in 1892, you held Canada up to the open-waterway rule for the Welland Canal; and in 1899, you kept an open door in China — a matter of equal privi- leges in trade. Mary. Splendid ! Gulp. Yes ! These things make a glorious past. That's where the American people live. But real democracy can never go backward or give up progi'ess once achieved. These ideas as a mirage lead to destruction. In holding them absolutely, at all times, the only safety lies. Only shallow people live in the past; the wise live in the present and the future. Mary. America is Europe's only future. 110 TEE WASTREL HOARD. Gulp. For a century America has been the graveyard of European errors. Immigrants from lands where belief in the ultimate excellence of human nature has flagged, have had their ancestral characteristics swiftly absorbed in their environment. Mary. Exactly! The soul of the universe epok© through our life. Gulp. While you were true to yourselves, you couldn't be false to others. But the all-conquering American mind, formed through three of the most wonderful centuries in social progress, has lost control of itself, submits to the control of the ancestral ideas, and to a system of political penetration for the benefit of those who profit by them, until the highest social consciousness can only observe the dissipation of the millennium almost within grasp. All races are striving toward emancipation from the circum- stances that enslave them and America was the great hope. To its alien millions, against their masters by divine right, America no longer has an honest principle to offer. In America, now, they change their sky but not their mind. You drive them back to what they came to avoid, and allow them to destroy for you what they came there to get for themselves. In your boasted melting-pot, the active agents boil in terms of dynastic intrigue; the native stock sim- mers under the milk-white flag. Even here I sense the indignation of the great spirit of America that seems to come from all those great and small, living and dead, who by their struggles and yearnings have made it. Mary. Mr. Gulp, why are you working here as a tele- graph operator? Gulp. [Half fencing, half serious.] Say, Miss, one of the most learned men I know is a New York barber. He works at the trade just for the opportunity to talk to his patrons. Mary. That's remarkable ! Gulp. No; in a free country a high average of culture and mental force should be the common inheritance — of THE WASTREL HOARD. Ill workers as well as dilettanti. Those who think the lowliest father of a family hasn't the highest political philosophy and a social point of view haven't the right to think them- selves. Where else can national aspirations be fostered but in the toiling masses? Every mother's son of them as- sumes now to impose his own code upon the world and to tiit in judgment on the universe. And, with, justice! Mary. I have never heard it put that way before. Gulp. [Smilhig.] The best culture is that of the man- ly and courteous instincts, and loving perceptions. It is not limited to parlors and lecture rooms, but applies to the conduct of the daily round of duties and affairs. To this culture any man is eligible. Mary. That is Walt Whitman ! Gulp. It wasn't for nothing Whitman was of mixed Dutch and English blood. He wrote the American Bible Mary. For Lincoln's plain people. "My Gaptain !" Gulp. Who no longer exist. Mary. [By way of compromise.] They are all com* mon now. Gulp. Gommon or preferred. They have lost the happy medium of the average man — work. Our clearest ideas come to us when our hands are busy. Fairy thoughts are woven by fairy fingers. This America Figaro is really learned. A wrinkled brow, however fortified, never pro- duced a work of art. All honest work is equal and deserves a normal and substantially equal reward I Mary. I didn't mean any disrespect. Gulp. There couldn't be any. A good telegraph op* erator is better than a bad lawyer. The "Sons of Rest," too, come from both extremes. America, the land of oppor- tunity, has surrendered to success and has no place for honest failures, however valuable their effort. It respects particularly the successful rascal — however destructive his effort to the community. It only takes a few intellectual perverts, well placed, to turn the world upside down. If 112 THE WASTREL HOARD. you only knew with how little wisdom the world is gov- erned ! Mary. That is true. For whom are you ? Gulp. The Carnegie Foundation charged the Nether- lands government with the direction of this court. I am here with express orders to see that no folly is attempted and that everybody gets a square deal. Mary. I came early to get you to help me. Gulp. If it was only coming early that was necessary, you didn't come early enough. Mary. What do you mean? Gulp. Do you know this man? [Handing Mary a card.] Mary. Has he been here? Gulp. You almost met him as you came in. Mary. What did he wish? Gulp. The same as you. Mary. You must be mistaken. That man is the head lobbyist for monopoly in the United States, the chief in- flater for the "Air Trust," the brains of the public enemy, the master of the invisible government. He's — he's — un- derstudy — to the devil himself. Gulp. I said he wished me to help him. Don't you wish me to help you? Mary. Of course Gulp. I'll do anything — proper — you wish. Mary. But Bullard persuaded you? Gulp. I formed a first impression — a general impreg- fiion — and against impressions persuasion is useless. Mary. And you naturally distrust me — [Descending in anxiety to plaintiveness amounting almost to a whine] — because I am a stranger. Gulp. My first impression of you was — in Berlin. I know your notes are good. Mary. Thank you. THE WASTREL HOARD. 113 Gulp. I're done secret service work throughout Eu- rope. I heard you every time I could. Mary. [With reviving assurance.] I'm so glad! You're just the man I need for a friend. Gulp. If you plan to help the royal lackeys you've been Bmiling on throughout Europe, you may count me againgt yon. [A fourth hoy comes out of the telegraph office whis- tling "De Nederlandsche Vlag."] Stu.-rj'V \ J.AIi r r t4 r M 1 ^ N''^ r^prr ^H=H u.u=^ E--C m^0^ L_J ■ [Gulp turns quickly and says to him in Dutch, "Genoeg! Kom allemaal der uit en hen gereed!" The hoy stops whistling, bursts out laughing, and says, '"Ja, Mcncer,'- and hows low, turns, and goes into the telegraph office.] Mary. See here, Mr. Dutchman. [Mary puckers up her lips and whistles a few bars of ^'Yankee Doodle.^'] We have American tunes to whistle ! Gulp. Why not stick to them ! That's better than your plan to give the measure for nobles to dance by. Mary. I have no such plan. The sentiments you have expressed are mine. See, I trust you. The best friend I have in the world is in the State Department at Washing- ton — Russell Turner— he's Gounselor 114 TEE WASTREL HOARD. [Gulp utters an exclamation checks Mary^s speech.^ of surprise which Gulp. Russell Turaer! How is that! Bullard tried to use Russell Turner's name with me. Mary. Yes. Do you know him? Gulp. Not so well by that name. Mary. That's his name, isn't it? Gulp. I called him William the Silent. [Gulp points to the portrait of William the Silent.'] He called me Hugo the Great — De Groot, you know Mary. How did you know himf Gulp. For three years I — saio America — with a tippling waster who had for four years been levying blackmail upon Russell's wife. She told her husband only after the strain had broken her health. The noble European ! [Mary follows Gulp with tense interest which she attempts to conceal and with fear that he may not continue. The four hoys come out of the tele- graph office with cable blanks in their hands. They line up in front of Gulp, who turns to face them. They salute, whistling, "Al is ons Landje nog zoo klein."] Alk gi il ht WUip m pfft M i-tffj =i-Wl3= iiffi im iffl •-■f-H fw ^ii try '"9 4- WW Tl IKfrcJH m ^:^5 El BS M - p- - — rtfi- m W 5 — H^ ¥ii0WHr]^ ^ I y [Their attempt to whistle gives way to their amuse- ment, they burst out laughing, break ranks, go into the Ante-Chamber and the Court Room, plac- ing blanks here and there. They attempt to under- THE WASTREL HOARD. 115 stand the conversation in English, whispering eon- fidences and guesses to one another.] Maby. Yes Gulp. Russell kept the fellow's lips sealed — until alco- hol finally clapped its big silencer on — and he has taken care of the children since. It cost him all he could earn, but he made jiood. The dog- started to boast to me once about the children — only once, however, and not desiring Russell to kill him, I didn't take the trouble to communi- cate the hint. Mary. [Expectantly.] Yes — and Gulp. The story never came out, and Maey. Yes Gulp. And now it never will. To have done every- thing for children you did not — Well — Russell Turner's the biggest man I ever knew. Maey. Did Bullard know? Gulp. It was I who inquired of Bullard? HchadneVcr even seen me! Even now he thinks I understand no English or any other language he does. Maey. And what did he say? Gulp. Like you. "Russell Turner is nearer to me than anybody in the world." But I, it seems, am closer to Rue- sell than either of you. Maey. It isn't so! I mean — that Bullard — is Russell's worst enemy. Russell's Acting Secretary of State and Bul- lard is trying to use that with you. Gulp. How can I know? Bullard proved it by dia- grams. He thought I couldn't grasp his English! Maey. [As if fearful of going too far.] He is the man who taught me Whitman. The American agent will tell you. Gulp. You mean Senator Morse? Maey. Yes. He has been like a father to me — to oa both, in fact. I wish to help him, but I'm afraid I'll have to do it in my own way. Bullard tried to work on him 116 THE WASTREL HOARD. through Russell, but I stopped that. Now he'll resort to his old game of threats — and that will include the judges. Bullard wishes to write their decree. Gulp. You don't say so ! What do you wish to do? Mary. To get private messages to Russell and to tell, him what to reply. Gulp. Would this be safe, this message business? — or right? Mary. Both. His spirit is so near to me, I sense his purpose. [Mary pauses as if receiving a spirit message.] He's thinking what we are, now. You'll get a message. I know these European rascals — I have reason to — and the Senator doesn't. Sometimes I'll ask you to hand me replies before they have been received. Gulp. [Quietly.] I've never heard of such a request. I'd not send a crooked message under royal command. I'd jump into the Vyver first. Mary. Look here, Mr. Gulp ! This very kind of mental telepathy rules the United States. We haven't, never had, and never can have any really adequate governmental ma- chinery to express so many wills. Yet — if what one hun- dred million people think were not, in obedience to their magnetic power, realized in government forthwith, there would be not freedom and acquiescence but the worst of tyranny, consciousness of oppression, and eternal civil war. History, as well as theory, shows that it is through their own thoughts, as well as by brute force, that men have always been governed. Every generous humane common impulse is telepathic and universal. And people the world over are getting closer every day. Unless they think moral- ly they cannot survive. And here, in this court, if its decrees are to stand, must be heard the voice of America, the voice of Europe, the voice of the world; here must be felt the pulsations and the waves of thought of all the lovers of humanity and justice in the whole civilized world. [Mary has drawn out from the sash of her gown the little American flag, used in the first act. Her question to Gulp THE WASTREL HOARD. 117 is a challenge. As she delivers it, she rests her left hand, holding the flag, upon the counter, and gesticulates with the right hand.] AVill you do it? Gulp, I feel that way. If I can confirm this by inquiry. [Showing Mary the telegram of the Ambassador.] With- out knowing it, you have needed protection these past two years, and Uncle Sam has given it to you. Mary. I sincerely hope Uncle Sam is establishing a precedent. It is about time he protected his owti. But I very much suspect Uncle Sam is in this case just a par- ticular friend of mine — of ours, in fact. Will you help me? Gulp. Perhaps. Do you know how to use a cable code? Mary. Yes, but I'm terribly slow at it. Let's make the code up afterward. Gulp. But the receiver always wants the original ci- pher. Mary. Then I must get appointed Senator Morse's secretary. I'll go see him right off. Gulp. You may as well wait here for him. Mary. But he doesn't even kuow that I'm in Holland. I couldn't let him know that I've been here arranging with you to manage the Tribunal for him. I'll go find him at his hotel or, if he has left, follow him here. Don't mention me to anyone. Gulp. Gertainly not ; but here's some one now. Mary. I mustn't be seen — what shall I do? Gulp. Gome in here and go through that door. It leads through my office to the way out. Listen to see who it is. If it's the Senator, come back through the corridor Mary. All right, I'll listen. Gulp. And if it is not, you can go around into the Gon- ference Room. From the door facing this way, you can get a view of everything — here and in tlie Gourt Room. Mary. All right. It'll be all right. [Mary e.rits through telegraph office door. Two rending rlcrlyS and a stenographer enter together 118 THE WASTREL HOARD. and go directly into the Court Room, nodding to Gulp and saying " Goedenmorgen,'' which saluta- tion Gulp returns. Enter Senator Morse. Looks around and approaches Gulp ; he fixes his lips so as to enunciate plainly.] Senator Morse. I desire to make arrangements for the transmission of messages to the United States. [Gulp as- sumes an air of amused innocence.] I am agent for the Pacific Ganal Gase of the United States of America, and I desire to arrange for the transmission of ofiflcial messages. [Gulp shrugs his shoulders.] I should think the manager of this Tribunal would have had sense enough to have a man in charge who could speak English. Gulp, Well, Senator; if Uncle Sam appointed trained diplomats instead of plutocrats and politicians, that wouldn't be necessary. That's a hot one, all right, but it was coming to you. Your diplomatists are statesmen in embryo, who first learn the rudiments in the highest and most responsible stations — millions of middle class people represented by chance holders of colossal fortunes which assure them of situations not merited, to say the least, by their careers. The one field of activity in which democracy does not demand experts is government itself. Senator Morse. [Sparring for time to regain his equilibrium.] Then you do understand English? Gulp, [Laughing.] Not as you pronounce it. Who the deuce could? I speak American. That's plainer. Eng- lish is a dialect. All others are dead languages. Senator Morse. But you're a Dutchman ! Gulp. Of American descent. By the Holland-America line. Senator Morse. How did you dare to joke with me? Gulp, Because I know you. And your speech was not, as you diplomats say, comminatory. I knew, besides, that, as a politician, you'd stand for it from me. I used to live in your district. THE WASTREL HOARD. 119 Senator Morse. My Congress District? CuLP. I was an Election District Captain in the Dia- mond Backed District. Senator Morse. [With a hearty laugh.] Then you were a power in politics f Gulp. / was a mannikin with the other puppet politi- cians — until / sized them up. I found out the real rulers are your cosmopolitan financiers, the people with the ma- zuma, from below the "dead line" — New York's symbol of the understanding between the criminal and the rich. Senator Morse. Nonsense. There's no more bank- breaking now anywhere. CuLP. Overtly — it is unnecessary. It's done on paper now everywhere, and it is sanctioned by custom. The crooks on the inside and the crooks on the outside diwy. That is all stock and bonds and notes are made for. Rob- bing the creators of wealth under cover of our complex, in- direct financial system is a regular practice. It's the prop- er thing. The rich even pretend to represent the poor in public office. Bbnator Morse. Our rich man in politics prefers honor to his money. Gulp. I'll believe that when only one of them drops his money before going into the fray and stands upon his merits and upon his own feet. Nominal statesmen, how- ever reverberating, have no terrors for me. Senator Morse. Well, your managers agreed with me that your work required a linguist. Gulp. You're wrong in your facts. Europeans are good linguists. They have to be because Americans are not. Conversation is like a Dutch treat — each one has to put in something. European merchants have to speak English at home or go out of business. Americans, like the English, are belligerently unilingual ! Senator Morse. It's a good thing they are; it spreads national influence. Gulp. I know a better plan. 120 THE WASTREL HOARD: Senator Morse. What is it? \ Gulp. Prohibit the publication of newspapers in for- eign languages in the United States and make European merchants speak English there. Why not create a little American influence in the United States? Apply the Mon- roe Doctrine for yourselves! Senator Morse. Would that be constitutional? Gulp. There's one thing makes me doubt. You see the English language is so simple that American laws might be written so simply that not only some judge, but even all the people, could understand them. That might, of course, be unconstitutional ! Senator Morse. The Constitution is written in simple language. Gulp. Who in the — United States — now could write such a document? What class would? Who really under- stands it? Senator Morse. Reading and writing are universal in the United States. Even Americans read newspapers in foreign languages. Everybody, you see, reads some news- paper. Gulp. There's more criminal libel committed in the United States than in the rest of the world, without the victims knowing it. It is no wonder you are not xenopho- bes. The foreigners do this unnoticed. Yes, and conspira- cy and sedition, violation of neutrality, and even treason. It is the custom in New York for the poodle-dogs of politics to address their constituents in Yiddish and other constitu- tional dialects. The great American vote is the only one nobody bids for ! At least two hierarchies demand the es- tablishment of their religion and the attempt is common to live under other governments than that ordained by the Gonstitution. Why can't you prevent that? Senator Morse. Good! The police power! You are talking to me like a Dutch uncle. Gulp. No, like an American boy ! {Draws a newspaper clipping from a notebook in his pocket.] Here's an account THE WASTREL HOARD. 121 of a baseball game in Cnba, between the Giants and the Al- mendares. There are nine American words to one of Span- ish, and there's not an English word in it. The difference in language is what keeps people apart. People never w^ant to fight with those in whose language they couch their in- nermost thought. Why leave it to England to spread the great language of peace and commerce! You'd better abandon warship diplomacy and dollar diplomacy for baseball diplomacy. Talk about horse-racing — that's the sport of kings — or pony polo, that's the rich man's game — or golf, that's the old man's game — but baseball, that's the true sport of democracy, the game for everybody, old and young, rich and poor alike. Syndicate international baseball, spread the spirit of fair play, and save the world the cost of armament. Imagine trying to raise armies during a real World's Championship series. Why, I've Been batteries 1 Senator Morse. You certainly speak English w^ell. Gulp. / had just the right training — shorthand, print- ing, journalism, telegraphy, and Dutch. I think in English. That is one of the things in life w^orth doing well. It is the one untranslatable language, and the only one in which a man can say just what he thinks. And I believe people who don't speak English well, don't think well. My native Dutch is the nearest of all the other dialects to English, Senator Morse. You are less provincial than most native Americans. Gulp. With Emerson, "I like to be beholden to the great metropolitan English speech, the sea which receives tributaries from every region under heaven." Senator Morse. And, I sometimes think, from Heaven itself. Gulp. There's a promise in it of eliminating the great- est waste in the world — the source of which was Babel. And if that promise is not kept, the masterful energy of the stock that speaks the language will be overcome by the greater energy of a stock bent upon suppressing it and 122 THE WASTREL HOARD. supplanting the elastic speech that expands with the human intellect by another and inferior one. All ii,Teat struggles are wars for speech. Senator Morse. That's the boy. Continue working. [Gulp recognizes the well-known baseball coaching speech and laughs at the grotesque effort of translating it from the ^'language of the tribe" to the correct English of the Senator.] Come back to the United States with me and I'll get you a consular post; then you can try out your ideas. But how about my cables? Gulp. What code do you use? Senator Morse. I've got a new one here. I don't un- derstand it very well, and between you and me, I haven't much confidence in my assistants. Mr. Gulp, junket is our favorite American dish. They are off sight-seeing now — ► visiting "The House in the Woods," and inspecting the *^Hall of Knights" — working up the history of past peace conferences instead of attending to the business of this case — the usual training for visionless statesmen. When it comes to real work, they get school-bell fever. Gulp. [Looking about.'] They'd find the interior dec- orations here interesting. Each nation has contributed something. Senator Morse. They are specialists in interior deco- rations. They have the finest international collection in The Hague. They are carrying it with them. Gulp. [Laughing.] War decorations are excluded here. Why is it that in America every public mission is regarded as a junket and every public duty as a debauch? I am disappointed. We expected American spirit would temper the mortar for this new structure. Under the in^ fluence of the other spirits it hasn't set. Senator Morse. Just show me how America can help. I'm strange here. If this thing needs setting, I want to do my part. Gulp, Will you trust me? Senator Morse, I think I can. THE WASTREL HOARD. 123 Gulp. Let me see your code. [Senator Morse hands Gulp a book.] I'll take your messages personally and turn them into cipher and I'll decode the ones I receive. [Look- ing at the code book.] It's the "Green" American — known in every court in Europe — as well as if you should adopt as secret the Morse code and call it your own. You'll need help. I'll help you. Senator Morse. I'll appreciate that. It will relieve my mind a whole lot. I don't mind confessing I felt sort of helpless, a sort of boss and oflQce boy combined, without capacity for the w' ork of either. Gulp. You'll get on all right. ^ [Enter Mary.] Senator Morse. Well, by Jove, Mary! [Gulp goes into office and receives. He assumes a groicing attitude of elation as the message comes out.] Where did you come from? Mart. From St. Petersburg. Do you suppose I'd let you remain alone in Europe? Senator Morse. How did you get aw^ay? Mary. I broke my contract with Wolf. The German beast ! He wanted to eat me ! Senator Morse. You shouldn't have done that. / can't blame him. You look good enough to eat. You must go back. Mary. Not I. Not until this Tribunal adjourns. I wish to be a diplomat — a sort of attachee. Gan you find a place for me? Senator Morse. What could a girl like you do? [Gulp comes out and hands Senator Morse a cable- gram.] Mary. Indeed! Well — [Looking at Gulp.] I could see that this foreigner gets your cables straight and I could keep my eyes and ears open. I'll tell you, make me your eecretary. 124 THE WASTREL HOARD. Senator Morse. You don't mean that? Mary. Of course I do. I — I — think and dream — in every important European language. You can't get a more capable employee. Am I engaged? Senator Morse. Yes — for the theatre tonight — there's a party. The play — [Senator Morse draws a card from Ms vest pocket.] "Op Hoop van Zegen." / speak no lan- guageHby my own I — Thank Heaven ! — But what does that mean? [Senator Morse hands the card to Mary.] Mary. H'm! The Royal Opera House! The play is fourteen years old. "The Good Hope," by Hermann Hei- jermans, the last of the "Naturalists." Senator Morse. In Dutch ! Tell me what it's about. Mary. It's the name of a ship. The capitalist ship- owners in a Dutch village send the jSshermen out in a leaky trawler. The ship is wrecked, all are lost, but the owners' insurance is saved. Senator Morse. A bitter plot ! Mary. Kind of symbolic of pur "Ship of State," isn't It? And their lovely Queen chose this play and is to be present with her King Consort! Our "dynasts" would keep it off their stage. It might put some soul into their cattle. Senator Morse. You little revolutionist ! Mary. Am I engaged? Senator Morse. You are. Report to me at the Oude Doelen for dinner — we'll have some Hutspot and Gouda Kaas. Mary. But I wish work. Senator Morse. Well, I'll turn you over to Gulp. Mr. Gulp, this is my secretary, Miss Flint. Just explain this cable business to her. [Gulp nods to Senator Morse. Mary turns to Gulp.] TEE WASTREL HOARD. 125 Mary. Ja! Meneer! Senatoe Morse. Oh, Mr. Gulp speaks English. CuLP. Yes, sir. Glad to know you. Mary. The same to you, Mr. Gulp. Gulp — Hugo Gulp — Hugo De Groot Gulp. Mary. Glad to meet you, Mr. Gulp. Gulp. Will you step into my office? «/wj9^row.' Freule! Mary. Thank you. Meneer! Met plezier! [Mary and Gulp go out by door leading out of the telegraph office. Mary holds door ajar. The door opens up stage, so that the opening may he observed by the audience. At appropriate mo- ments Mary opens the door, shows herself to Senator Morse and gesticulates. At such mo- ments, the person talking with Senator Morse has his back turned to the door."] Senator Morse. {Reading the cablegram. He appears to have difficulty in deciphering the handwriting, and calls to Gulp, who comes out to listen to the cable as it is read.] "Washington, D. G., June 28, 1914. ''Hon. John Morse, Palace of Peace, The Hague, Holland. "Opinion here sharply divided. Movement of disinterested citizens favoring withdrawal Amer- ican claim has grown tremendously. Interests are working to make Pacific preference appear patri- otic, but real goal is seizure of Mexico and Ganada and war with England. Make it plain to the world for your own sake and for the sake of Amer- ican honor and the real interests of our country, that you place your case upon the highest grounds of international justice and on those grounds alone — even if you lose. American commerce must serve peace and humanity. "Russell Turner.^' 126 THE WASTREL HOARD. CuLP. That's an American note, isn't it? Sbnatoh Morse. As soon as Bullard sailed ! [Enter Bullard. Senator Morse thrusts the cable gram into his pocket and nods to Culp_, who goei into the telegraph office.] Senator Morse. Thank yon, Mr. Gulp. Bullard. How are you, Senator? I see we Ameri- cans are first on the scene as usual. Senator Morse. You're evidently determined not to miss anything. I'll bet you drank coffee and lay awake all night planning to run this Tribunal. Bullard. I knew a poet once who used to eat peanuts before he went to bed at night and, as a result, couldn't sleep. That's what made him a poet. Senator Morse. But you are not a peanut politician. Bullard. No. But this case is a hard one to digest. I wet it down with Schiedam Schnaaps, with three mem- bers, in repeated succession, flitting, like a busy flirt, to keep each young man unconscious of the others. Senator Morse. How do you get on talking with these foreigners? Bullard. There's a universal language. Senator Morse. Money? Bullard. Well, drink loosens the tongue. At first the conversation was rather formal. My guests were re- specting themselves. Little by little — under the influence of the respective patriotic libations — of the exalting absinthe, the duller beer, and — not vodka but champagne — the speech loosened; it lost exactitude. Words were made to do double duty. Then pronunciation stumbled and fell apart. The spoken words were deformed, slurred over, maltreated. The next loss was in intonation — as though the speaking voice were getting out of control. And, at last, the conversation became purely automatic — a sort of emotional repetition of stock phrases and slang locutions, the mere parrot utterance of ready-made word- THE WASTREL HOARD. 127 combinations lliat required little more than muscular effort — and of tliese suck an increasing proportion was in tiie native tongue of each that I finally had to give them up and put them to bed. [Derisively.] And they are all Bismarck's "two bottle" men ! Senator Morse. You seem perfectly sober. BuLLARD. I was bar-tender. He drinks seldom. He has to stand on his feet ! Each of my victims, as I received his bedside assurances, called me to witness that no siren song could overcome his judicial impartiality. It was very ludicrous — the more so because no one else saw the joke — [Mary bites her lip] — but me. A siren song! There was none but mine! Senator Morse. And money — you'd surely try that. BuLLARD. Well, money talks — and plainly — while you diplomats consider speech was given to man to conceal his thoughts ! Senator Morse. What was your need of haste? We merely organize today and adjourn until day after tomor- row. Tomorrow another set of judges organizes for the American-Japanese immigration controversy. Bullard. That's it. I wish they had held that off. It complicates things. Senator Morse. The Yellow Peril! So that's your hurry! That warning serves as many purposes as Scrip- ture ! Bullard. Don't be unkind, Senator. I had to get my bearings. As a diplomat I had to have private conversa- tions and preliminary pourparlers. I wasn't at Algeciraa for nothing. I'm here to protect the interests I represent. You are here to advance the cause you represent. Where's the difference? A lawyer is a purchasable commodity, too. Whoever loses, the lawyers must get theirs. The law's standing offer of protection is the spider's lure to the un- wary victim. Senator Morse. But I represent the American people. Bullard. You represent a certain construction of the 128 THE WASTREL HOARD. Hay-Pauncefote Treaty and the American people don't be- lieve in that construction. You don't yourself. Senator Morse. That Act was passed by the American Congress and signed by the President. That's enough for me. BuLLARD. That Act was passed by my Senators and Representatives ! Senator Morse. But was signed by a patriotic Presi- dent Bullard. Against his best judgment, just because he couldn't furnish a declaration against his country. Come, Senator, let's work together. [Sitting down.] Let's sit down. Senator. We're working for the same cause. Senator Morse. You mean that I'm working for the Trusts. If I admitted that I'd be driven from public life. Bullard. You're working for victory before the Tri- bunal. If you don't get it, you'll be driven from public life and your friends in the State Department will go with you! Senator Morse. Now, Bullard, I am going to say some- thing to you I have refrained from saying during my forty years of public life. You know all the men who have made money directly or indirectly out of holding office during that time, and those who bought their places, in fact, all those who hold honor in political life by compromising it, who, instead of showing courage and losing, have tried to succeed by the easiest way Bullard. Don't beat about the bush. Senator. Call them political prostitutes! That is plain and I'll under- Btand it. Senator Morse. Well, you know that I am not one of them. And you know I have never acted as a lawyer in any matter in which the public interests were involved, or by which my public action might be influenced. Bullard. You've deserved your good name. I know those who bought their places and those who sold their THE WASTREL HOARD. 129 power. There are all grades of sell-out men. You have a right to despise them all. Senator Morse. All I lay claim to is horse sense. I never desired to be very rich, or very powerful, and I don't now. I have seen what it costs. BuLLARD. Some of them have paid dear for it. Senator Morse. Now, I'll tell you of the resolve I made the night of my first election. I promised myself that if I ever felt the desire to stay in office for my own benefit or comfort, I should summon all my resolution and get out. I never felt that desire Bullard. Until Senator Morse. Of course, I admit that, now, being an old man, [Sitting doivn] I'd like to die in the harness. Bullard. I needn't tell you, Senator, how short a time it takes to complete a man's ruin. Senator Morse. When you interrupted me, I was about to say that the only thing on earth of which I can't be deprived is my sense of duty. Bullard. I know you are a little different, Senator, but you like to be on top as well as anybody. Senator Morse. Now, see here, Bullard, I'm here to win for the United States, but I propose to do it before the Tribunal, before the judges — and I hope we shall not win unless we deserve to win. Bullard. You will win all right. I've seen to that. Senator Morse. What ! Bullard. I've won before the Tribunal already — be- fore it has met. But the form of the decree — that's impor- tant. I'd like to suggest Senator Morse. You're joking. Bullard. No. The real trial of but few lawsuits takci place in open court — or real battles at the seat of war. Senator Morse. This case will be tried upon the evi- dence and the principles of the international law. Bullard. Made to suit. 130 THE WASTREL HOARD. Senator Morse. This court is to be the expounder of world law, to express the international mind. BuLLARD. Formed by the same influences which now make up the different national minds. But they are not legal principles — there are none that are international — there's only natural justice, but that is never applied. Senator Morse. But diplomacy ! BuLLARD. Is never so much in evidence as when it gives everybody in the world just what nobody wants. Senator Morse. But, for inland waters, national con- trol is an established principle. BuLLARD. If you appeal to that, you're licked. A girdle about the earth by water wasn't considered when that prin- ciple was adopted. The judicial eye drags, has visual per- sistence, like a movie audience. Official justice is like a gun — silenced and disappearing — fired from cover ; the vic- tim is dead before the shot is seen or heard. Take advan- tage of that. Leave nature out. This Court's fixed for us right now, but if you bring out your so-called natural prin- ciples, the judges may not have the nerve to decide with you. That's just what I want to see you about. Don't be original. It doesn't pay. Senator Morse. Well, that line of argument won't get you anything. There are some rules too clear for con- struction. I hope I will never see the day my country's interest is placed above its honor. BuLLARD. But you are your country's lawyer, and this Court, if it is a Court of Etiquette, is not a Court of Honor. Senator Morse. I wish you would spare me from any more of this talk. These judges are the most distinguished men in Europe. They're incapable of anything but the strictest adherence to their oaths of office. BuLLARD. Name them over. I'll tell you who these judicial demigods are. Senator Morse. Sir Richard Dexter. BuLLARD. [As if stumped.] H'm ! Senator Morse. [Confidenthj.] A rare old Tory, I THE WASTREL HOARD. 131 suppose I He's here to fight, under cover, as is customary, for the entrenched riches of his class? BuLLARD. Sh ! Liberal England is very sensitive about its international honor — or, at least, its reputation. ■ Senator Morse. [Resting the point.] And Sir Rich- ard? BuLLARD. Oh, I admit it. He's a statesman of letters, but a mere thinking machine. The others sent an agent. England sends a judge. He's so just he leans over back- ward. He would decide against his own country. Senator Morse. He's a prophet of the common law, and he thinks it the hearthstone of every British home — and the basis of the rule of law for the federated free and independent peoples of the world. BuLLARD. The old gentleman actually worships the fetich called justice I He doesn't know that right now the shipping interests of Great Britain are facing a conflict with the rest of the world, and that what his country needs is not judges but friends. Senator Morse. Then she deserves friends. BuLLARD. He'll be against us, on the merits, and he'll take our own man. Wells, with him I Senator Morse. Then Sir Richard gets friends. BuLLARD. Well, he's a queer sort to send after them. He falls short, — like you. He needs three and gets two! He is not a diplomat. He has nothing to do with Downing Street, and, I believe, scarcely knows where it is. Senator Morse. That's good. The separation of pow- ers; you see that's Anglo-Saxon ! How about the Russian? BuLLARD. Americans in the fur trust and the Alaska ■eal-fisheries combine are agents of the Russians. They are a trustful race. Senator Morse. Until you scratch them. BuLLARD. Their policies, even in matters of vital in- ternational concern, are directed from a certain embassy in Sergievskaia Street. They even employ generals with German names. The Czar's a soft proposition. His lat« 132 TEE WASTREL HO A RD. tmcle, Edward the Seventh, could have told him that once a German, always a spy. Senator Morse. Of course. The White House always calls up the imperious politician on Massachusetts Avenue near Fourteenth Street. BuLLARD. Wait and see. It's nothing more nor less than interlocking directorates, is it? Senator Morse. If that works, why not community of interests among the peoples? BuLLARD. Yes! Why noil Next! Senator Morse. Baron Liebig von Speidel, I have known personally. Bullard. Me, too. He represented Germany at Wash- ington. Senator Morse. A charming man. He married an American wife. He was persona grat — issima! -t Bullard. He married American dollars. That's the German system of conquest and annexation. Senator Morse. He is beyond reproach. Bullard. An international statesman's most pressing need is often for expenses he doesn't \\ish to report at home. Senator Morse. Often. But she is in everything with him. She follows his flag. Bullard. And the whole connection with her. That's the German system ! Even the brightest are its dupes ! They know the dollar has no flag ; it tries to side not with right but with strength. It is like the fat military con- tractor. It makes war or peace for profit anywhere on earth and has made righteous war impossible. The Kaiser appoints him a member of this Court as agent for the for- eign bankers for railroads and brewers who would control American shipping, and then the commerce and industry of the world. Ninety per cent, of the American coastwise ships that can make profitable use of the Canal are owned by a railroad or a trust. They have as much use for this Canal as for the canals on Mars ! THE WASTREL HOARD. 133 "The strongest castle, tower, and town, "The golden bullet beats it down." Senator Morse. Then it's free British shipping against dynastic American railroads. BuLLARD. That's it. The reason the United States is asserting a right to limit the use of the Canal is not be- cause our ship owners desire it as such, but because the for- eign owners of our railroads desire it. If they had their way, the Canal would be blown up or filled up. So you see my method is comparatively harmless. Senator Morse. If you succeed, the alimentary canal might as well close up, too. BuLLARD. They have too much interest in passing the schooner through — for irrigation! Senator Morse. Yes, too much. You have made that a political emblem and partisans pothouse politicians, haven't you? Well, thank Heaven, your methods are not my methods. Bullard. You needn't be so grateful. You arrive at the same end — blindly. Senator Morse. But with a clear conscience. Bullard. Lay not that flattering unction to your soul. Senator Morse. You think an act is all right if it's non-felonious. Bullard. Men of your sort make a great virtue of what is merely mental inertia. Even when conscious of what you will, you will the end without willing the means. As a matter of fact, you often do great harm. Senator Morse. Give me an instance. Bullard. Well, you're fond of Russell Turner, aren't you? [At the sound of Russell Turner^s name, Mary opens the door wider.] Senator Morse. Very. Bullard. As fond as I am ? Senator Morse. That is putting it mildly. 134 THE WASTREL HOARD. BuLLARD. Indeed ! Senator Morse. He is like a son to me. BuLLARD. You knew his mother, perhaps? Senator Morse. I knew of both his parents. The mother was an admirable woman. BuLLARD. [Quickly.] That's right! [Quiz:;ically.] The father didn't amount to much? Senator Morse. I have always admired Russell for being what he is with such a man for a father, BuLLARD. [Dubiously.] That gives all credit to the boy? A fine stone in a mean setting! Eh! Senator Morse. [Rises; sees Mary.] Yes, decidedly. BuLLARD. And you wouldn't do him an injury? Senator Morse. Not for the world. BuLLARD, [Earnestly ; rising.] Well, you 7mv(?. Senator Morse. In what way? BuLLARD. [Almost disclosing resentment.] I was by T/ay of making him rich. He could have risen to any height, even to the greatest office on earth — the Presidency. [At a sign of caution, Mary disappears.] The girls Senator Morse. Your kind will never make any more T^residents. Persons must cease to sidetrack issues. BuLLARD. Not openly, but when you hear a man howl like a Progressive, look out for him. He'll be ours. And we'll be paying him to howl ! We never really lose. Oar people never rise above a moving picture intellect. All they ask is that the reel keep going and that they be al- lowed to sit open-mouthed, looking at the crass banalities on the canvas. They think they elect Presidents. Well, Presidents don't count for much. They are merely pictures in the passing show. They fade in, go through motions, and fade out. Audible! Public men are like pebbles thrown in the water; they plunk, make ripples, and go down for- ever ; their very lightness it is that keeps them momentarily on the surface. From Presidents to politicians, the more they change the more they are seen to be the same thing. Senator Morse. And the machine goes on forever. THE WASTREL HOARD. 135 BuLLARD. Precisely. We are the water. [StUmgr do ion.] We turn the wheels, float the ships, and Senator Morse. [Sitting down.] And fill up canals. BuLLARD. [Laughing.] And capitalization. It's a game, Senator. It's an old game, Senator. But, it's a great game. Every consciously respectable member of the United States Senate is engaged in a gigantic conspiracy, under the polite name of "Senatorial courtesy,'' to barter away the welfare of the American people to private interests in return for political support. No man in public office owes any duty to the public. He's groomed by special interests for the race. They dope him like an ambitious trainer, and when they are through with him, or he ceases to be sub- missive, turn him out to grass. They nurse him just like Lascort does a star. Now, what have you actually done for Russell? Senator Morse. He's Counselor for the Department of State. / got that for him. BuLLARD. Assume that you did — and that it was you who convinced those Senators to withdraw their opposi- tion — and that it was you who induced Merwin to let him live — what kind of a living is it, at best? Senator Morse. It's pretty good for a man of his age. He's Acting Secretary of State in the absence of the Secre- tary. He's at least doing honest work. BuLLARD. Why, he's doing my work, "Dollar Diplo- macy," and he's starving on the job. The worst pangs are those of poverty, and the boy is feeling them. Senator Morse. It's a stepping-stone. BuLLARD. It's the skids. A gentleman who goes about with the top button of his waistcoat missing might as well cut his throat. No young man can get up except as a part of the system. That's why I went into it myself. To at- tempt to rise without money is like trying to lift yourself by your own bootstraps. The only stepping-stones are the shoulders of the rich. Honesty is praised but starves. Senator Morse. Perhaps, some day, even you will see 136 THE WASTREL HOARD. they are slimy. Russell is doing his simple duty. That raises any man higher than President or King. BuLLARD. He's violating the most sacred duty. A man of his powers owes it to himself and those dependent upon him to keep free from want. Senator Morse. His wants are simple. BuLLARD. People who are literary and musical and artistic are unreliable. It's inborn, I suppose, in boys who take after their mothers. Senator Morse. A reversal for Judge Shakespeare! How do you prove it by Russell ? [BuLLARD looks at Senator Morse as if to discern how much he means by the question. He hazards an answer only when satisfied that the question is innocent. Mary appears in the doorway.] BuLLARD. Well — he should have mortgaged his eternal life to sweeten the last days of the mother of those girls. Senator Morse. Money wouldn't do that. The boy made tremendous sacrifices for years to spare her sorrow. BULLARD. [Shrugging his shoulders.] He's weak. He won't stand up. Senator Morse. Senator Morse. Let me tell you something, Bullard. When Russell had been married four years, the whole thing went wrong. The girl's health was gone, she found out there was no love between them, and, to top it all, she con- fessed the reason — that a former secret marriage, contract- ed while she was supposed to be studying at a fashionable school, which she had concealed from him, believing it to have been a joke, had been discovered to be valid. As usual, the first, foolish love survived, and a worthless waster haunted her like a ghost. That's one of the many cases there is no law to cover. Such cases call for manhood, and when it responds, they eat it right up without stint or pity. The man pays! Now, what would you do in such a dilemma? Bullabd. Good God! [Bullard pauses, surprised THE WASTREL HOARD. 137 into thought, then finds a ivay to continue the conversa- tion.] Don't / know I But why should the hoy have to pay? [Mauy shows tense emotion.] He was innocent. ' Senator Morse. Well, he not only kept her secret, and took the consequences upon himself, but he made her be- lieve that the escapade had not bound her after all. And he made her happy ; from wishing to die, he made her wish to live. And when she did die, it was in the belief, without the thought that he was hers, that no better man had ever lived. Poor girl ! A whole people has been ruined by a glittering personality ! Some men make vice a poem ! BuLLARD. I knew there was something. But Russell has been inscrutable — an enigma. How long does such retribution continue? Can't a father's reform save a child? Senator Morse. He is keeping up his attitude out of respect No attainder should strike a child — ever! BuLLARD. [Gloomily.] Some men inherit incapacity to master the woman question. No man ever made a suc- cess of life who lost the right girl. "And the gold years of a man's life will be brass in his mouth" — thanks to that. Nor any woman who lost the right man. Senator Morse. [Encouragingly.] No man ever made a success of his life who either married the wrong woman or who was the wrong man — nor any woman who was the wrong woman or married the wrong man. BuLLARD. But Russell wasn't really married. Senator Morse. It is not Russell who has failed. BuLLARD. My parents didn't exactly hitch. Senator Morse. Unrequited love is sometimes refined and made the pure gold of a greater love in a "man of sor- rows" — like Lincoln ! Russell may yet go far I BuLLARD. And Russell might have made a good match in Washington these two years. [Senator Morse pauses, squares ojf, looks Bullard through and through, and de- cides to let the suggestion pass. Bullard takes note and continues.] He may yet. You have a daughter, Senator. Senator Morse. The onlv woman has avoided him. 138 THE WASTREL HOARD. BuLLARD. That's a good thing. She's a singer. His girls should have a mother's care. Senator Morse. [As a taunt.] Haven't you expected that Chance would sweep this singer off her feet. He has more money than his father iiad. He is the son of the typhoon. And he has pursued [BuLLARD betrays by his attitude his enjoyment of the fact that the Senator understands figurative- ly ivhat he asserts as a literal truth.] BuLLARD. I have observed the pursuit, but there is no Chance. Victor is not a son of the wind. Russell is safe from competition from that source. [Senator Morse continues in evident innocence of Bullard's meaning.] Senator Morse. I don't understand why he hasn't married. He seems content just to hope and wait. He's the quietest and the most useful man in Washington. BuLLARD. Well, if the world's balance could be struck, I'd bet silence has done more good than speech. When a thing's said, the bolt is shot. It's the fear it will be that hurts. We fear everything that's before us; actualities, we sense dully while anticipating something else; what is past we impatiently remember. [Rambling.] That is the real harm of the possibility of war. It is, in the long run, as harmful to hear "war" from the mouths of men as from the mouths of cannon. Senator Morse. At times, his silence is almost su- perhuman. He's solving a big problem, I'll warrant. BuLLARD. Not for himself, I'll bet. He lacks the in- stinct. A great idea that profits nothing while incubating ! Senator Morse. Acclaimed mediocrity is never sweeter than obscure greatness to those who have the choice. BuLLARD. Let's work together, Senator. [Mary reels back.] I am not a bad sort, even if I do use practical means. It'll be all right. [Senator Morse appears not to have heard; rises.] Senator Morse. If I believed what you say about this THE WASTREL HOARD. 139 Tribunal, I'd forget the consequences to myself — and my friends. I'd call the whole thing off, if I could, and go home. BuLLAED. What would they think of us at home! Senator Morse. The ones I have to face at home are Mrs. Morse and our daughter. They are the only people in this world whose condemnation I fear. And, I guess, time would justify me with the others. There is no crime against our country so wicked as the crime of conducting our international relations with a view to party popularity. He who has charge of our foreign affairs must deal with them regardless of the effect upon his political future or his party's advantage, or he cannot deal with them as national independence and public safety demand. The man who is considering his political future and his party's advantage should keep out of foreign relations. These two cannot co-exist. But we are talking nonsense. Why, there's Ledoux, he's the finest gentleman I ever met. BuLLAED. If he were, only a war could keep him in French politics. That has been demonstrated. Senator Moese. Why don't I see these things? BuLLARD. You study the law. I study the judge. I have figured on Sir Richard and our own Mr. Wells — two out or five — being against us. Senator Morse. I've never had the slightest evidence. BuLLARD. You discourage it. A man shows a differ- ent character to every man he meets. The Roman grafters never gave their confidence to Cato. Sit down. Senator. Senator Morse. {Sees Mary open door; sits down.] Dishonest minds can never share in patriotic impulses. BuLLARD. They can pretend to, and do. I must re- mind you that the language and attitude of diplomatists and politicians are regulated by circumstances. Lead these men on. I've told them you are with us. A man always gives his confidence to somebody so as to shift the burden from his own conscience. Later they'll dsk you to help 140 . THE WASTREL HOARD. them witli their decwe. Bnt please don't argue with them now. Just talk to them about themselves ; that gets people quickest. I've taken each separately and no one of them knows about the other — nor the whole truth about himself, for that matter. They are sort of in the honeymoon period of their acquaintance and haven't yet asked serious ques- tions. Like most of our best citizens, they are crooked and don't know it. Senator Morse. What do you mean? BuLLARD. Well, to be candid, Senator, I've done what is always done by those who get advance knowledge of im- portant decisions. I've put up every cent I have for a ten point margin to carry American railroad stocks. After this week I'll work no more. These fellows will have to find another "Man Friday," and if we get that decree in proper form, I'll have enough to stand up as a money power myself. I've handed out as servant hard knocks to the men of independence. But I'm going to be a real master now. Do you suppose I have gone against my true character, my traditions, training, and bringing up all these years, for any other reason than vengeance or for any other purpose than to realize them in a bigger way through victory over the power that turned me aside. You know my story. Senator, — at least as much as anybody knows. Chance did for me before I had begun to live. I took a vow — well — I did as much to Mm as I could before fate — or his character — the wastrel ! — took him off. And now I've made my people option all that boy's railroad holdings on a tip to him that the finding here would be adverse and send them down and that the moment would be opportune to put everything into real estate at the prevail- ing low prices. That argument got him — you'd think some people hadn't enough realty already — they want to own the earth. And, besides that, he has sold enough short to break him if there's a big jump upward. If I succeed, the real estate he has now will just about meet the deficiency to the brokers and the hoard that did for me will exist no THE WASTREL HOARD. 141 longer but will be so distribnted that it will do no more harm. I'll have some of it, [grimli/] and I'll have my revenge. And, by God, I'm going to do some good, too. I'll put Russell up where he belongs ! And the girls, too. Money, first ; then honors will come easily. Senator Morse. What has that to do with these judges? BuLLARD. Oh ! Three of them have some of the stock — carried for them — they don't see the connection — but they expect a fifty point profit — and they take that as a measure of their service to commercial prosperity. Why not! We sold Europe the stocks and bonds of our railroads and Europe owns them. Merwin represents them and Ameri- can railroads belong to his clients. Senator Morse. That is financial feudalism. BuLLARD. That, my dear Senator, is the true meaning of the financial oligarchy in the United States. Senator Morse. It's political oligarchy I Foreign, too! Taxation without representation! BuLLARD. Sure ! When money talks, there are always fascinated listeners! Senator Morse. Good Heavens! Only government ownership left ! "Blocks of Five," over and over again ! Bullard. Why, our financial leaders are loaded to the gunwales for this stroke ! That's why they're compelled to safeguard the decree. If the water stays in that Canal, every drop of water in railroad securities evaporates. [Bullard sees Sir Richard; Mary disappears; Gulp comes out of the office and stands at one of the telegraph instruments; the Page Boys, in different parts of the stage, look toward Gulp.] Senator Morse. [Rising.] Then they'll go to smash I Bullard. [With sly confidence, which Mary appears just in time to observe.] Your old friend — Flint — is in deep, too. You would hardly desire to break him — and destroy his daughter's inheritance! 142 TEE WASTREL HOARD. Senator Morse. [With the utmost dignity.] Justice leaves unavoidable damage where it falls. [Mary nods approval to Senator Morse and disappears. Sir Richard enters.] Good morning, Sir Richard! Sir Richard. [In a dialect understandable without great di^culty and very closely resemhling hut yet clearly distinguishable, by its tang, from the American language.] Good morning Senator. How is the American case this morning? [Bullard rises, deferential.] Well, Mr. Bul- lard! Senator Morse. We have our case well in hand, I think. Sir Richard. The case is in good hands, I am sure. Ha ! Ha! A poor attempt at a joke, Mr. Bullard. Quite so! Bullard. Many a case is well in hand in bad hands. Sir Richard. [Raising his voice with the righteous bluster of the Briton who knows he is right.] There are no bad hands here, however. The eyes of the world [Mary reappears at the door; Gulp looks up from his instrument; the Page Boys turn to stare at Sir Richard] are upon us. Justice will be done, though the Heavens fall. [Mary evinces elation. Sir Richard smacks his lips upon his words.] Quite so! Injustice is always a boomerang! In England, Mr. Bullard, a Parliamentary Agent would never think of extending his activities to the Law Courts. Our judgment here is on the knees of the Gods! [Bullard opens Ms mouth as if to speak "but, half- closing his mouth, looks at Sir Richard_, blandly at first, then quizzically, then as if restraining, under the influence of the gaze of Senator Morse, an incipient grin. The great bell in the tower of the Palace of Peace strikes once for the half hour.] Curtain. ACT IV. ACT IV. The curtain rises upon the situation upon which it de- scended. As the act proceeds, spectators come in and pass quietly into the Court Room. As each comes in, Mary steps back quickly and closes the door, reappear- ing again at once. BuLLARD. The majority of judges translate that "Jus- tice will be done, when [The elation of Mary fades] the heavens fall," Sir Richard— or an angel intervenes! [Gulp and the Page Boys look at Mary. The elation reappears. The Page Boys, at a signal from Gulp, disperse.] SiE Richard. Bad law and bad Latin. By the way, this is a wonderful monument to civilization. A Perma- nent Gourt of Arbitration, with duly appointed delegates from all nations ! It has concentrated the conscience and intellect of the world upon the substitution of law for war, and the hope of ridding mankind of the strangling incubus of standing armies. [Gulp crosses to Court Room unob- served.] Why, truly, this should be the judgment of the Gods! Senator Morse. And a shelter against their wrath ! BuLLARD. It hasn't accomplished much up to date. Sir Richard. Quite so! We meet in a little country kept in peace with warlike nations all about. BuLLARD. Holland is their door and window. War la still the king of international sports. Sir Richard. That's because we still allow sordid con- siderations to rule us. The chief cause of war is bond is* sues and the chief cause of bond issues is war. Too many people have gold to lend to the worst of enterprises, while the worthiest go begging. War debts are the eternal heritage of the unborn. The real God of War is the fiend with one virtue and a thousand vices who stands astride the 146 THE WASTREL HOARD. world and says: "Money — that's me — and the world is mine V7 BuLLARD. "A power which has dotted over the surface of the whole globe with her possessions and military posts ; whose morning drumbeat, following the sun and keeping company with the hours, circles the earth daily with one continuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England." Sir Richard. Those are outposts of civilization and the drumbeat was on the ships of the British Navy built to keep the peace of the seas. England's fleet has been pro- tecting American commerce for fifty years and Great Britain would gladly have all navies placed under inter- national control as international police. The world could, then, enforce disarmament, abolish standing armies, and enthrone universal peace. The heir of the future is now made the slave of the past. Mob and Money Power create one another and both unite for war. The record of Eng- land, fairly considered, is a refutation of the theory that preparedness for war is the prime essential or even an essential of a free, civilized state. Sbnatob Moesb. The war of the future will be for the just distribution of the fruits of social progress. Sib Bichabd. The first skirmish will be the battle for peace — the irreducible minimum of war. The odious at last attains the supreme merit of making itself intolerable and uniting those opposed to it. Sbnatob Mobsb. But in this war there*ll be no trouble- maker. The common people of all the world will be ar- rayed on the same side. They'll be inspired by prudence, moderation, and restraint, and will assert conciliatory principles. Bullabd. That won't happen nntil the military estab- lishments have destroyed one another at Armageddon. Sib Bichabd. Wherever more than ninety-nine per cent, are born with a mortgage on them held by less than one per cent., that must happen. THE WASTREL HOARD. 147 BuLLARD. That's repudiation. Senator Morse. War costs are not assumed -willingly ! Sir Richard. Better have peace the leveller than war. The great deeds of war bring us all down. The great deeds of peace raise us all up. There's a fate awaiting govern- ments that rob their own people. Selfishness misleads us, Mr. Bullard — individuals, States, empires — the world I Senator Morse. It's a more dangerous condition in a free country, where the millions who have nothing to live on have everything to live for. Bullard. Hungry people only start riots; revolutions take time for organization, and funds and leisure to get results. Only the masters of railroads can make war. Sir Richard. The safe battle cry is already written on the scroll of the Palace of Peace: ^'Vrede door Recht en Recht door Yrede'' — "Peace through Justice and Justice through Peace." There lacks only: "Consciousness the Will informing, till it fashion all things fair." Bullard. Well, success to it. The idea is all right, if only men would carry it out. The very greatness of the peril should act as a brake, but it doesn't. I am afraid the Temple of Peace is built with untempered mortar. Senator Morse. Bullard as the Prophet Ezekiel ! Bullard. I am consistent. Hear the Prophet himself. "Therefore, thus saith the Lord God : Because ye have spoken vainly, and seen lies, therefore, behold I am against you, saith the Lord God. And mine hand shall be against the prophets that see vanity, and that divine lies ; they shall not be in the council of my people — because, even because they have seduced my people, and when one buildeth up a wall, behold, they daub it with untempered mortar; say unto them which daub it with untempered mortar, that it shall fall — I will even rend it with a stormy wind in my fury — So will I break down the wall that ye have daubed with untempered mortar and bring it down to the ground, so that the foundation thereof shall be discovered; and it shall fall and ye shall be consumed in the midst tlicr-'of ; 148 THE WASTREL HOARD. and ye shall know that / am the Lord. Thus will I accom- plish my fury upon the wall, and upon them that have daubed it with untempered mortar, and I will say unto you, The wall is no more, neither they that daubed it; to- wit, the prophets of Israel which prophesy concerning Jerusalem, and which see visions of peace for her, and there is no peace, saith the Lord God." Senator Morse. [Rising.] Bullard citing Scripture! BuLLARD. However right, always the Devil ! There's a time in life. Senator, when childhood's lessons seem to us to have been the sweetest and deepest of all. [As if the American in him tvere challenged by the Anglo-Saxon in Sir Richard into patriotic self-assertion.] We Americans, if we are to deserve and preserve our institutions, must be prepared to defend them ! [Dramatically and with per- ceptihle irony directed at Sir Richard. During this speech, Mary appears stirred with patriotic fervor, draws out the American flag, and, then, as if realising that it is only Bullard who speaks, thrusts it hack in the manner of an indignant officer who noisily sheathes his sword.] "It is vain. Sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, 'Peace, Peace!' but there is no peace. Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it. Almighty God ! I know not what course others may take; but as for me — GIVE ME LIB- ERTY OR GIVE ME DEATH!" Senator Morse. [Not to he outdone hefore Sir Richard hy such as Bullard.] Militarism and American prepared- ness cannot be hit by the same stone ! They are opposite ! Bullard. [Taking the running from Senator Morse and talking at Sir Richard.] This is the American posi- tion [Gulp crosses unobserved into Telegraph Office] that Avith us national military prowess is a moral duty. Senator Morse. The United States is, moreover, com- mitted not only by the very charter of its existence but also by every step in its course as a nation to enforce in all THE WASTREL HOARD. 149 parts of the world and against all opposition the foreign policy, the tiscal program, the economic life, the moral purpose, the humanitarian precepts, and the principals of international justice for which the American people stand. BuLLARD. [Ratifying.] Yes, Sir Richard. The world expects, and our people will accept, no less. A proud na- tion must be prepared to fight or not too proud to fall. Sir Richard. Quite so ! Quite so ! Where, then, will the mad rush for armament end? Senator Morse. [Sitting dowti.] When America has established for the world that right is might! When the peoples of the world really have cause to love America— not for pretenses but for performance — America will no longer need to fear the invader. They'll all be disarmed ! Sir Richard. Yes! Yes! Quite so! There's a lesson in it, for all. The great national needs are not hostile, but complementary. If one mill out of every thousand dollars of taxation that is spent on pensions, war, and preparation for war were employed to develop mutual self-interest among the nations upon the basis of reciprocal advantage in foreign trade, the day of cosmic solidarity would dawn, and inside of twenty years warships would be a drug on the market, standing armies would be a memory, and all the armor-plate would be turned into plowshares. If peo- ple don't learn to co-operate, I don't know what the world will come to. Good business makes good friends. England has long given the example by opening her ports every- where free to all, even to those whose abuse of the privilege by unfair trade is notorious. That is a functional part of our policy of liberal conduct toward all men and all na- tions. Co-operation and reciprocity are the two greatest words in the English— or any other —language! Markets are the creative weapons of civilization; cannon are the destructive tools of barbarism. War! What could be worth it? Even the survivors, crippled, mangled, and en- feebled, conquering as well as conquere i. i\ = Vni (f\ ^^i^rrf^-^H^^n^M i'^U-i^.i i ACT V. Library of the residence of Senator Mouse, in Neic York City, ten minutes after eleven on the morning of the sixth day after the close of Act IV. Books in cases on right and left. Desk at right with elec- tric light upon it. Upright piano against wall at left. Doors left and right; large hay window at hack, the curtain of which is drawn to exclude the sun. The icin- dow is open. An electric fan, resting upon the piano, is in operation. The sounds of vehicular traffic without are more audihle than in the first act. At hack of stage, in the hay windoio, is a cahinet phonograph. On the desk is a telephone and heside it a small brass clock. In left hack corner, facing audience, is a chime clock, resting on the floor. Photographs, including that of Victor, Russell Turner, Mary, Senator Morse, and Mrs. Morse. Victor^s is on piano. Beside it is a large, full figure oil painting, in the style of thirty years he- fore, of a beautiful girl of tioenty, in stage costume, suggesting the ivell-known painting of Lotta Faust. American flags are conspicuous in the temporary decO' ration for the Fourth of July. On the tvalls are pictures of Washington, Hamilton, Marshall, Lincoln, Grant, Evarts, and, Roosevelt. There are group pictures of the Bench of the United States Supreme Court and of the NeiD York Court of Appeals. There is also the old print of Webster addressing the United States Senate. Seated at piano, is Alice Morse. As curtain rises, she looks at ViCTOR^s picture, and commences singing "Because." She is nervous. L92 TEE WASTREL BOARD. BECAUSE SONG Vords by * Pr«ort» ««rd« «aA IT iff /o7 *Viid liold iny hand and Itfl mine eyes a - bovc,. poir dc te re • voir a'e - te - tr. Si der aoiM of hope and joy I tw - tneiU tera toi jc tends tes bras . oppassioTiafo l»ra|r Hl« love may make our love 4k • vine* . Reprinted by permission of Chappell & Co., Ltd., 41 East 34th Street, New York. Copyright, 1902, by Chappell & Co., Ltd. THE WASTREL HOARD. 193 [James enters door at right. Alice stops singing. James holds out card tray. Alice does not look at the card.] Alice. Tell the lady I am out of town and will not return for a week. James. Very good, Miss. [Alice continues playing and singing. The tele- phone rings. Alice looks at the instrument, walks over to the desk, sits in desk chair, and looks at the clock. It is ten after eleven. She hesitates, hut finally takes the receiver of, hut puts it hack immediately. She rings the huzzer at side of desk.] Katy. [Enters.] Yes, Miss! Alice. Answer the telephone and repeat the name. [Katy takes off receiver, hesitates, clears her throat and ansivers.] Katy. Hello. Yes, this is Senator Morse's house. Alice. Ask now who it is. Katy. Who is this, please? You'd like to speak to Miss Morse? Alice. Is it a man? [Katy shakes head in negative.] Then say you didn't catch the name. Katy. I didn't catch the name. Alice. What did she say? Katy. She said she didn't give her name. She says she said she wanted to speak to Miss Morse. Alice. Tell her Miss Morse is out of town ; you don't know when she'll he back ; probably not for a week. Katy. Miss Morse is out of town. We don't know when she'll be back, probably not for a week. She wants to know where. Alice. Ask for her name. No. Tell her you don't know. Katy. We don't know. 194 TEE WASTREL HOARD. Alice. That's all, Katy. If a lady wants me, I'm out. Katy. The roses have come, Miss. Alice. Please arrange them for me to-day and send yesterday's to the hospital, as usual. Katy. Yes, Miss. Alice. [Turning to a number of new hooks on the ta- ble.] And have these books, and yesterday's, and to-mor- row's, sent to the Junior League. Katy. [Gathering up the hooks.] Very good, Miss. [Exit Katy.] Alice. [Looking at the photograph of Victor.] Oh, dear ! [Alice takes the telephone instrument with the left hand, reaches for the desk clock with the right hand, and marks of i^teriods of ten minutes. Pushes clock away and takes off receiver.] Alice. Hello, operator — Give me 6000 Chelsea — They're busy? — Well, try to get them. [Puts up receiver, reflects a moment, reaches for the telephone directory, finds a numher, and takes off the receiver.] Give me 4900 Broad — The other number is still busy? — All right, get either number — Hello, French Line? — Has the Kochambeau docked yet?— Call up Chelsea 6000?— I did, but the line was busy — Ten minutes ago? [The chimes strike once for the quarter hour.] How long w^ill it take for passengers to get away? — Oh, the Custom House? — 1642 Broad — Thank you. Good-bye. [Presses down holder with right hand, then signals for the operator.] Give me 1642 Broad — Custom House? — How long will it take passengers to get away from the Rocham- beau? — Yes, I'll wait — Hello, Inspectors' Department? [The desk clock strikes once for the quarter hour.] How long will it take passengers to get away from the Rocham- THE WASTREL HOARD. 195 beau? — It depends upon what they have? — If it was only a diamond ring? — Might never get away I — No, he wouldn't smuggle. He's rich — Twenty minutes? The holiday de- lays? [The clock in the room above strikes once.] Thank you very much. Good-bye. [Puts down receiver and listens. The elevator is heard ascending. Goes over to piano, takes down Victor^s picture, looks at it and puts it back quietly. Looking at Victor^s picture.] Oh, dear! [E7iter Mrs. Morse from door at left. The lou4 chime in the hall beloiv is heard as the door opcm. Mrs. Morse^ like most women of her years, has become younger and more modern in the period that has elapsed since the close of Act L] Mrs. Morse. [Mrs. Morse and Alice embrace.] Oh, such a crush ! ! ! Yes, father's all right. He was surprised you didn't come to meet him. Alice. I thought I'd be in the way, and he'd be home so soon. Mrs. Morse. But he didn't come with me. The Secre- tary of State took him off to the Metropolitan Club for a conference. There's some mystery about this Hague busi- ness. We are to receive all kinds of visitors without ques- tion, hold them here, and telephone him. I've given orders that the most questionable characters be sent up here, un- announced, and kept here Yes — and no questions asked. Alice. [Frowns.] I hope he'll come home. Mrs. Morse. Naturally, my dear. But he may go to Washington. Alice. He mustn't, without seeing me. Mrs. Morse. You could go to the Club to meet him. Shall I call up and ask him to let you know when? Alice. No, tell him to come here first on his way. He mustn't go. Mrs. Morse. But that may be impossible. You can talk to him over the telephone. 196 THE WASTREL HOARD. Alice. That won't do. I wish to ask his advice. I can't say it over the telephone. Mrs. Morse. Isn't my advice sufficient? What can it be? Alice. I want you both at once. — To ask whether I may [Alice hesitates.'] Mrs. Morse. May what? Alice. Consent. Mrs. Morse. To what? Alice. To be married. Mrs. Morse. You wicked child! Who has asked you that? And you've told me nothing. Alice. Nobody has asked me. Mrs. Morse. Then you needn't be in such a hurry. Do you expect anybody to ask you? Alice. I don't know. Look at this. [Hands Mrs. Morse cablegram.] Mrs. Morse. Why, it's a week old. Why didn't you tell me? "Love to your mother!" Huh! Alice. You were away. It seemed a flimsy ground ' or writing. Do people ever forge cablegrams? Mrs. Morse. It's never absolutely safe to rely upon them. But there could be no motive in this. Alice. But the whole Hague business is a mystery. What was Victor doing at The Hague? Mrs. Morse. Hasn't he written you regularly? Alice. Yes, but it was mostly about Mary. Mrs. Morse. Well, he was seeing Mary. She has writ- ten you frequently. Alice. I believe I shall never marry. Mrs. Morse. Of course not. Never, until the right man comes. Alice. I wish to be free, to keep my own individuality, to be able to do something. The kind of men I know "wouldn't permit that. Mrs. Morse. There may be a kind that would. Every one of them will promise to. TEE WASTREL HOARD. 197 Alice. A man's promise ! Mrs. Mobse. You are not jealous, are you? You do not distrust Victor? Alice. A woman's jealousy never comes from dis- trust of the man. Mrs. Morse. Indeed! Alice. Distrust destroys the love jealousy is based on. Mrs. Morse. Not certainty as to a man I Alice. No. Women really know nothing about men. But women do know women. And that Is the reason in a woman's jealousy. Mrs. Morse. As a matter of fact, whether it must be so or not, the sexes know very little about one another. You need have no fear concerning Victor. Alice. I want to be sure. There is only one way and that is to marry a man who has work to do, a purpose in life. Mrs. Morse. Victor has his property to look after. Alice. What a purpose! I don't see how any true woman's affection for a merely rich man can overcome her feeling of anger and contempt. They might be useful, but they refuse. Mrs. Morse. Victor's grand-parents made their way to wealth from abject poverty. You never can tell when old family traits will show themselves again. At all events, people who insist on marrying one another just for them- selves usually wake up to find in one another hosts of dis- agreeable ancestors. If Victor doesn't develop the real man and throw off the incubus of money, I haven't judged him right. Alice. That's a hope it will take years to justify. Money is no guarantee of breed. It conceals the real marks pf gentle birth and calls for actual tests. Mrs. Morse. His mother was accused of marrying money. Alice. She didn't know ! She was a poor girl ! She was a singer ! Mrs. Morse. And she never forgot it. Thousands of 198 THE WASTREL HOARD. poor girls were benefited by her charities — the sweetest "uses of adversity I" The mother was an admirable woman ! I have always admired Victor for being what he is with such a man for a father, Alice. Why didn't she divorce him? Mrs. Morse. She didn't believe in divorce. Alice. But she was not happy, and nobody spoke well of the man. ^ Mrs. Morse. There was, undoubtedly, a good reason for the disaster of their married life — which she knew. There always is a reason and love seldom remains blind long. Alice. She had everything except the one unpurchas- able thing. There you have it. If a woman must become, as most women must, what the man she marries makes her, she at least ought to use independent judgment in choosing the man. Mrs. Morse. I've studied Victor and I can see — I see nothing but good. I take the boy as I find him I Alice. He has not been tried. I want a man who has his bread and butter to look after 7iow. I'm tired to death of the routine of a rich girl's life — one round of formality and unreality — disgusting vanity and sickening deferences — and — riding to death one hobby after another, and, in search of novelty, touching here and there on the bor- derland of vice — and Oh I the wonderful force of girl- hood — before the harder nature has had time to set — all misdirected, all misspent ! I'll not stand with women whom fortune has made so complaisant at the wickedness and the social crime about them that they have lost the very power to blush. The desire to appear — to put on a false face before the painful realities of life — that characterized the years preceding the French Revolution, that has spread with our instantaneous communication from one end of the country to the other — together with sentimental self- suppression, has destroyed the self-sustaining self. When I contemplate the aristocratic leprosy that surrounds us THE WASTREL HOARD. 199 and threatens to spread, I wish with all my heart I had been horn a working girl. See what deprivation did for Mary. All women ought to work, for their own sakes, as well as for other people's. Those who have ambitions haven't the wherewithal to support them, and those who have the wherewithal haven't ambitions w^orthy of sup- port. There's abundant work for Americans to do ! Mrs Morse Your father has always said that people with money and without brains believe that people with brains and without money were born to work for them. Alice. The world is supporting too many loafers of both sexes. We are like blind fish in a beautiful bowl ! Mrs. Morse. All women who haven't children ought to work — at something! Alice Bringing up children is work. A woman who contributes well-bred children to society has done about enough— judged by fair standards. The alternative ought to be wage-work. Mrs. Morse. [Half pleased, half flahhergasted, and as if not daring to encourage.] Don't be foolish, child. A working girl ! — to-day — and up at auction — to any bidder ! Why ! You are only a child. Alice. I've made up by observation for my lack of ex- perience. A new world-mind was horn to my generation. Society has been getting men and women into tasks that nature didn't intend for either. As a result the family wage, with the burden and the opportunity of earning it, has disappeared. I've observed that some women ennoble their men and that others reduce them to their worst. As we do unto our men, so do we unto ourselves. My man, if I marry, must always be his own best and always help me to be mine. And he must earn a family wage and feel, as / shall, what it means to me and to others— the importance not only of the money but what it means in welfare value for all wage-earners. Without such a feeling the great love that comes to the great poor, face to face with the great meaning of life, cannot exist. 200 THE WASTREL HOARD. Mrs. Morse. That's a pretty sentiment, but Alice. I'll not assert or concede that for one thing all else must be endured — the one thing in a woman which most men both deplore and desire. Mrs. Morse. Among well-bred people Alice. Where are they? Breeding, though proved to be the most important thing in modern times, is the least thought of. An ill-bred race Mrs. Morse. Alice! Have those — Mother Hubbard lectures taught you this? Alice. Conceived in selfish passion Mrs. Morse. Hush ! Alice. Spurred on by drink, then, unconscious Mrs. Morse. Child ! Alice. Or liquor-fanned lovers ! — ^vainly seeking satis- faction through indulgence of self — ! Mrs. Morse. Goodness ! [As if resolved to see the argument through.^ Victor no longer drinks. Alice. No real gentleman drinks now; soon no real man will; no American can be a true citizen without re- nouncing his personal liberty under His Alcoholic Maj- esty. What the world needs is a better balance of soul and body. Marriage isn't a thing to be romantic about; it lasts too long — and its effects ! That which is to come in the future, must be conceived rather in the soul than in the body. Inebriate conception Mrs. Morse. Goodness! Alice. Yes, goodness. The only key to happiness — for ourselves and others — is a life of service. Only the greater love can be "woman's whole existence." Mrs. Morse. Or man's, for that matter, I imagine. Alice. I have made up my mind. I shall not marry anyone who has money. It has come to this with women as with all other things in this country, that they go upon the auction block, are disposed of to the highest bidder, and become a chattel to a lord and master who has bought and paid for them. That is where political reform should be- THE WASTREL HOARD. 201 gin, and where women should make their fight for equality. I shall insist upon partnership really equal. I have told Victor that. I have talked him to death on that subject. Mrs. Morse. If you really love a man, you'll never ask whether he has much or little. Alice. But that is just what I am doing. I want to marry Victor. I don't wish to add to the tragedies of those who have tried for love and failed. But what greater trag- edy is there on earth than an unhappy marriage? I — I am — afraid. Mrs. Morse. Of what? Woman's whims are certainly ruining this generation. Alice. That I shouldn't be able to hold him. It is not easy to combine self-realization and freedom with perma- nent loyalty and surrender. Don't you suppose the myriads of woman failures sought to make the right adjustment? Mrs. Morse. It is the man who seems the supremest egoist who most suffers for the want of the woman with whom he can abandon self in blended unity. If he suc- ceeds Alice. There must be no "if." I don't want a trial marriage. Mrs. Morse. My dear child, all marriages are trials. Remember that if men and women were faultless there wouldn't be any marriages. People don't love one another because they are perfect, but because they can understand and sympathize with one another's faults. But in the rich, absorbing, impersonal struggle, trials become joys. You should have more faith in Victor and in yourself. Alice. I'd like to. That's just what I wish. To me a woman's love means the one achievement in her life worth while. It comes but once. The woman's choice of the man should study his fitness to become the father of her chil- dren, to worship her as their mother, and to be tested by her and by them and be found always a man! I'd have Victor love me always as we love in dread of losing. That is to love wisely and well. But there are the facts. 202 THE WASTREL HOARD. Mrs. Morse. What facts? Victor loves you. Alice. That's the worst of it. I know he loves me, yet he has been chasing Mary all over Europe. Mrs. Morse. Better the fascination before than after marriage. Mary fascinates everybody. If men weren't susceptible, there would be no marriages. Victor is com- ing back to you. Alice. Because Mary doesn't want him. That's no satisfaction. To be happy in giving one's best without re- quital is a prodigy no human being ever accomplished. And suppose she should change her mind? Mrs. Morse. Have you known her to? Alice. Sixty times in one minute. Her fad Mrs. Morse. About trifles. That's temperament. She is the most steadfast of mortals — even in her whims — w^hich seem to have gripped you. And she is your friend. Alice. Friendship should not be strained; friends should be frank. Mrs. Morse. Mary is your friend ! Alice. And I am to keep Victor by her sufferance. She defies conventions I loathe people who always want something extra — just something that decent living and the common welfare can't afford. When I see the way per- fectly healthy people rely on automobiles, I wonder what legs were given for, and fear that evolution may take them away again. If nobody had surplus means to have them, common means of getting about and getting on would suffer less from thefts of public funds ! Mrs. Morse. Nonsense! For any distance, nowadays, it is either the limousine or flat-foot in the cattle cars. Transportation is the keystone of the arch of democracy but the arch of democracy is nowadays pretty much broken. Mary sees the times as they are, and governs herself ac- cordingly. As a result she is a success; she is fashion itself. I know now you are in love. You think everybody is in love with a man because you are. Mary loves Russell. Alice. She might have married him two years ago. THE WASTREL HOARD. 203 I have secured a reminder for Victor. [Alice indicates the picture in htage costume.] Mrs. Morse. Who is that — not Mary? Alice. No. It is "Sweet Lily Earle" — just before she changed her mind and married Victor's father. Mrs. Morse. You are in love, rest assured of that. Alice. Is it selfish to save two people from foreordained miserv ? Mrs. Morse. [Putting her arms about Alice and kiss- ing her upon the forehead.] I suppose you are above such a thing as jealousy, too ! You may well be — and you may spare Victor the warning. Mary loves Russell, and Victor doesn't love Mary, and Russell does. Alice. He keeps writing every day, but does he ever hear from her? — Never! Mrs. Morse. Whenever he wishes now. Let us forget useless worriment. [Lightly.] By the way, I have a new record [Mrs. Morse goes to the cabinet, adjusts a record of a beautiful soprano voice singing, "Absent."] Sometimes, between long shadows on the grass, The little truant waves of sunlight pass. My eyes grow dim with tenderness, the while, Thinking I see thee — thinking I see thee smile ! And sometimes, in the twilight gloom, apart, The tall trees whisper, whisper heart to heart, From my fond lips the eager answers fall, Thinking I hear thee — thinking I hear thee call I [During this song Alice "becomes more and more absent and Mrs. Morse turns the record to play the song on tJw other side without awakening Alice from her revery. Dur- ing the playing of the second song, ''Forgotten/' the grip of Alice upon her theories of love and life yields to pal- pable lovesickness.] 204 THE WASTREL HOARD tbOKl WXTLaCBHCk FORGOTTEN (Orifinal Kty.Fi EOOBNE Cowus For.goUenyon?WeU,if for.get.ting Be thinking aU the day How the long hours drag since you left me_ (Days seem years with you a . way._) Or ::C^n this be for. get-ting? Yet I have for.goUen, you say Or_ counting each moment with longing, Till the one when ["U see you a. gain. If this t)e for.get . ting.you're right, dear, And \ have for.got-ten you then. got. ten yon? Well, if for . get . ting Be readjng each face that I yours as you last looked at me . For. goLten you? Well, if for. get. ting B« , yearn, tng with all my heart. With a long, ing.half pain and half rapt, ure. For the time when we nev. er shall part. If the wild wish to see you and hear you. To be held in your arms a . B**"* f this be roiLgettiiig,yonVe right, dear. And I have fotLgoLien yon *"• For. got. tea, you sayl Copyright MDCCCXaV by Oliver Ditson Company. Inter- national Copyright Secured. Used by permission of Eugene Cowles and Oliver Ditson Company. THE WASTREL HOARD. 205' Alice. What a lovely voice. I don't recognize it. Mrs. Morse. You have heard it many times. Alice. Never. I should have recognized it again any time. We must buy some more. Mrs. Morse. You can't. Alice. Why? Mrs. Morse. There aren't any more. Alice. They'll never stop making new ones of that voice. [Absently.] The song — is — wonderful! Mrs. Morse. That was made especially. It was the only one made. No others will be made. Alice. How did you get it? Mrs. Morse. Russell gave it to me yesterday in Wash- ington. He is to be here today. He wished the record to be here. It is Mary's voice. Alice. I'm ashamed of myself. I wdsh Victor would come. Mrs. Morse. She never wrote to him or communicated with him while the other woman lived — not even when it was all over. But he understood — and he loved her all the more for it. We can have no love worth having withe ut these tests. I believe they will Alice. But I've no chance for a test, no basis for com- radeship, no chance for a man who needs anything. Mrs. Morse. If he loves you, he'll need you, and if he can't get you, he'll live in hell, and — [The elevator is heard ascending. Mrs. Morse pauses an instant, and both listen, as Mrs. Morse continues] — that's the severest test in life. And Mary has been gone — [Enter Mary from door at left, shahhily dressed. She wears a mantilla on her head and carries a Spanish fan. Her costume is piped here and there with red, white, and blue. There is a wide belt of grey cloth. The neck is quite open] — Why, you dear child! Alice. [In double surprise — that it isn't Victor — and that it is Mary.] Mary! 206 TEE WASTREL HOARD. [The Three form a hugging group in the center of the stage. Mrs. Morse and Mary weep. Mary is quite overcome. After a moment j they separate.] Mrs, Morse. [As Mrs, Morse and Mary dry their eyes.] Why, Mary ! You are crying ! I guess / am, too ! Mary. / am not ashamed to cry over you! [Noticing that Alice has not shed tears.] Why, Alice, how strong you've grown ! Why, you're not crying ! Alice. [Concealing the rankle.] I don't want to. Mary. [Gently and not suspecting the cause.] Well, if you don't want to, you needn't. I hope you never will. Mrs. Morse. Mary, dear. What can I do — [Mary straightens and draws hack] — to show you how glad I am? [Mary is brimful of cheerfulness.] Mary. Oh! [Looking down at her costume.] This garb ! I had forgotten ! You may — find me a man. Mrs. Morse. A man I How do you mean? Mary. [Very seriously.] I'll take the one you find — [Very cheerfully] — if he asks me right. Mrs. Morse. One came over from Washington yester- day, was to have met Senator Morse, but said he'd meet him here. He didn't wish to intrude upon the reunion. Alice had the same notion. A very satisfying reputation after thirty-three years of marriage — if it were real. Mary. You know you are models. Mrs. Morse. But not to be copied. Why, here is even my own daughter. She never intends to marry. She wants to do something. Mary. Don't, Alice, don't. Alice. The advice of the successful — "Don't." Mary. The endorsement of the unsuccessful is most impressive — when they care to speak. Stay at home with your mother — until you marry. Please, do. I love you so much, and I want you to. Alice. Your mother wanted you to, but you didn't. Mary. I had no sooner left home than I choked with regret. But it was too late. I have been " 'mid pleasures, THE WASTREL HOARD. 207 and palaces," but I have wanted my mother every hour since I left home, and I made up my mind to go back and tell her so — but not until she could be proud of her daugh- ter, after it all. What she would think always guided me. Alice. She has always been proud of you. Mary. I don't mean fondly proud, but proudly proud. Achievement is the only thing that justifies what I have done. The power to rise above circumstances is the one hope of the woman who leaves the beaten path. What must follow the failure to do that is too horrible to think about. I have looked too far beneath the surface of life to feel that I have deserved better than the thousands who suffer every- thing. It is the yearning for better things that makes them stake all upon their frail power. How often it is in vain I Natures that are restless and full of striving are full of danger ! I have felt it all the time, and I kept on merely be- cause I had an object and the world gives opportunities to women who tread on dangerous ground which nice girls do not enjoy in this wonderful, refined, male civilization of ours! I see my error now. A moment came — when — I saw things white and clear. I couldn't think of my parents' home as my home, just because it was not as bright and the horizon was not as broad as family life's should be. It was for this petty obstacle which I had it in me to remove that I made the girl's fatal mistake. I held lightly what was near and dear to me. God help the girl who breaks away from her family to seek a bigger love in the outside world. When a girl loses the touch of a moth- er's hand, and has no mother's breast to sob upon, she is hopelessly adrift. God help her, I say, for this modern world won't, though she be an angel sent from Heaven, bearing its salvation, and God bring her safe into a home and family of her own and the love of a good strong man. Mrs. Morse. That's true. [Putting her arm about Alice's neck.] Don't you suppose your parents thought all these things out? All parents do. Alice. Mother, dear! 208 TEE WASTREL HOARD. Mrs. Morse. You were saved, my darling, from all danger, when you were a mere baby. You were then as self-willed as a mule. For twenty minutes we coaxed, commanded, cajoled, and threatened to make you pick up a doll you had thrown on the floor. Then I told you the story of the oak tree and the violet. They grew side by side in a forest. When the wind came, the violet bent upon its stem, but the sturdy oak stood stiff. The leaves moaned and pleaded : "Don't be headstrong. Think of us, your chil- dren. Let us live." The giant oak would look down upon the tender violet with scorn, and would pay no heed. Then, one day, there came a stronger wind than ever before and it blew down the giant oak. But when the Sun came out, the gentle violet was fresher and more beautiful than before. "Oh, dear," said the oak, "I am blown down and can never get up, while you, little violet, by giving in to the breeze, have come through without harm. I wish I had yielded in time." The moment the point of the story was made, yoii reached down, picked up the doll and handed it to me. You have never been a bit of trouble since. Mary. Alice was ready for that story then. I am ready for it, now — for the first time in my life. [Mary sinilet, reflects J turns away — then to Mrs. Morse.] Perhaps Alice is ready again. [The elevator is heard ascending.] How is Mr. Chance, Mrs. Morse? [Alice exceeds the others in expectancy.] Alice. [With apparent difficulty of utterance.] Ho has been in Europe. Didn't you see him there? [Enter Victor.] Mary. The best source of information about a gentle- man is the gentleman himself. Victor. Three to one. Mary. Too many by two. Victor. [Indicating the holiday decorations.] No, I am "The Great and Glorious Fourth." Eh! Mary. Modestly yielding to the ladies ! THE WASTREL HOARD. 209 Victor. I am delighted to see you all again, Mrs. Morse and Alice. [Shakes hands with both.] Alice. And Mary ? ViCTOE. Is the most wonderful girl in the world. Mary. I've been arranging Victor's affairs for him. He's going to settle down and make a home for himself. Alice. Is he the man? Mary. Oh, no. You goose. Friends never marry. Alice. Indeed ! Mary. Friendship — "should be made of sterner stuff." [The elevator is heard ascending.] Victor. It brought us back to all of you on the same day. [Enter Russell from door at left. He looks as if he had lost sleep. He has overheard Victor's speech. He sees the group and stops, unmanned. Mary casts down her eyes and remains motion- less for a moment. The others look at the two. Mary raises her eyes, puts out her hand, and speaks almost inaudibly. Throughout the rest of the play, Mary ''acts." Her lightness of heart is, however, assumed hy reason of the necessity of concealing her real emotions from all hut Rus- sell. At surprised moments, she lets it appear that she is under restraint. Russell's conquest of the green-eyed monster is gradual. In his speech he has to contend with a dryness of the mouth, evidenced hy attempts to moisten his tongue and the roof of his m,outh. After the ex- change of greetings, Mrs. Morse takes Victor and Alice to a window for a moment. Russell, seiz- ing the occasion, turns, excited, to Mary.] Mary. [With a nod of caution.] Mr. Turner. Russell. You didn't meet me. Mary. I changed my mind about the steamer. 210 THE WASTREL HOARD. Russell. But your name wasn't on any list. I have searched them all. Mary. Have you the Deutschland list? [Russell draws from his pocket a nuinher of steam- ship lists and hands one to Mary. Mary finds a page and indicates it to Russell. Russell looks at the list with her.] Russell. That's the second cahin list of the Deutsch- land. What do you mean? Mary. See here — [Mary points to a name] — Frau T R ; just see how they've spelled it. Frau Trimer — und — [Mary quickly crumples the list and clenches it in her right hand] — I sailed under that name. Russell. In the second cabin? Mary. Yes. [Russell turns to Victor. Mary looks on during the conversation from under her lashes.] Russell. {As if calling Victor hack to he grilled,] On what boat did you come? t> Victor. [Turning casually from the window and starting to walk hack toward Mary and Russell.] The Rochambeau. Russell. Your name was not on the sailing list? Victor. We don't place our names on sailing lists any more. Russell. Nor a false name? Victor. Not any. No steamship man would insist upon it. Russell. Where did you sail from? Victor. Havre. Russell. You went there from Paris? Victor. No, from The Hague. Russell. You went to attend the Tribunal? Victor. Not exactly — Mary was there. Russell. You went with her? Victor. I followed her from St. Petersburg. THE WASTREL HOARD. 211 [Russell turns to Mary, who raises her head and then her eyes demurely.] Russell. Mr. Chance has been very kind to you. Mary. Devotion itself. Russell. You have seen a good deal of one another in Europe? Mary. At Monte Carlo — at my dehut. [Mary gives Russell a meaning glance.] In Butterfly — he was there — a wandering spirit. Russell. Are you very fond of him? [Mrs. Morse and Alice rejoin Russell, Mary, and Victor.] Mary. He's the nicest, kindest, and most generous boy in the world. I just longed to anchor him to a hearthstone. [Alice winces; Mrs. Morse pats her on the hack.] Russell. And you, Mr. Chance, did you respond? Victor. It grew on me — until Russell. Did you bring anything over with you? Victor. Yes. I've had it a year, but I've been keeping it dark. I've been afraid to tell. [Enter Cortright unceremoniously from door at right.] Cortright. Well, you can tell it to me. Victor. Who are you, pray? Cortright. Here's my card. I'm a special officer of the Secret Service, assigned to the New York Custom House. Here's my badge. Victor. What can we do for you? Cortright. Is there anybody who lives here that came by the Rochambeau that landed today? Victor. Nobody that lives here. Why do you ask? Cortright. Well, we had a telephone inquiry about a party that was passing through the customs with only a solitaire diamond to declare. We looked up the declara- 212 THE WASTREL HOARD. tions and found there was nothing to correspond with that, so we thought we'd inquire. I traced the telephone num- ber down and here's where it brought me. Russell. Aren't you very zealous? Victor. Over-efficiency, I'd call it. CORTRIGHT. It is often worth while. Victor. For one diamond? CoRTRiGHT. Sure. Victor. Oh, I see. I see. CoRTRiGHT. No, you dou't sce. Victor. Really? Mr. Boughtright, what would you rather have now than anything else in the world? CORTRIGHT. [Eagerly.] A little white house in the country, within access, for my wife and children [Stops suddenly.] Say ! Look here ! What are you trying to do with me? My name's Cortright, not Boughtright. I suppose you think I knew and let you pass to settle with you privately. Look out, young man, or some smart crook will have you paying him blackmail. It was the Depart- ment sent me. It's my duty. I'm after Victor. I meant no Cortright. No, sir. The courtesies of the Port don't go now. You've got to see the State Department about that. I'm from the Treasury Department. Victor. But you are extremely courteous. Can we do nothing further for you? Cortright. Excuse me, but I'd like to know who called up the Custom House and gave that information. Alice. I called up and asked for information. Cortright. It's the same thing. Every question is a clue. Alice. Really? Cortright. Sure — so is a denial. Even the most skil- ful liar can't resist the temptation to tell half-truths. Victor. Is that all you wish to know? Cortright. No. We got special advices from the TEE WASTREL HOARD. 213 other side to watch all arriyals this week. I'll have to ask the young lady who she was expecting. AucE. {Pointing to Victor.] This gentleman, CoRTEiGHT. So, HOW. Did you come by the Rocham- beau? Victor. I did. CoETRiGHT. Did you bring anything to declare? I want to warn you how you answer. It's a criminal offense, and they don't let anybody off nowadays with only a fine. Im- prisonment follows every conviction. Mary. Is it too late to make a declaration? CoRTRiGHT. What d'ye mean, a declaration? Did you come with this gentleman? Russell. I'll answer for the lady. CoRTRiGHT. 'Tis a lady we're after. Mary. No, I'll answer for myself. I did not. CoRTRiGHT. Your Style of dress looks suspicioui. [Russell cautions Cortright.] Russell. Be careful what you say. CoRTRiGHT. Women coming from Europe don't dress poorly for any good purpose. Women are horn smugglers ! Mary. I came by the Deutschland. [Mary hands the sailing list to Russell with a glance that says: ''Don't dare to look at it." Russell grips it in his right hand.] Cortright. I thought so. Victor. ''Deutschland ueher Alles!" CORTRIGHT. [To Mary.] Well— Miss Alice! Mary. No. It is I. I'd like to declare something. [The chime in the library strikes once.] CORTRIGHT. I'm afraid it's too late. Victor. The lady volunteers. [The desk clock strikes twice.] CORTRIGHT. Not at this stage it isn't voluntary. We're required to make a search. 214 THE WASTREL HOARD. Maey. But that isn't necessary. [The clock in the room above strikes twice.] CoRTRiGHT. I suppose not, but they assume you declare things from fear. Mary. That's immaterial. I ^ish to tell the au- thorities what I brought. Shall I tell you? [The chime in the hall helow strikes once.] CoRTRiGHT. I'm the man to tell. Mary. Your information came from Holland? CORTRIGHT. That's right. That's the diamond market. Mary. I know your informant. CORTRIGHT. He's got a big pull, whoever he is. He's got the Department working overtime. The orders were to search. Now, if I only got you on the ship or on the dock, the Lady Inspector would be handy. I'll have to de- tain you, I'm afraid. Victor. Can't you cut that out? CORTRIGHT. She's an opera singer. Alice. What have I done ! Mary. Scissors, please. I'll save you the trouble. Alice. Right here on the desk. [Alice hands Mary the scissors. Mary cuts the red piping on her dress and draws out a string of rubies. The others are apparently much con- cerned, Mary makes an effort to appear playful.] Mary. Mr. Officer. You were right. I'm the lady — disguised. I wear this costume in Carmen — in the third act — at the smuggler's cave. CORTRIGHT. That's how you got by? Shades of Doctor Watson ! Mary. [With feigned spirit, archly, making a dance step, and tapping Cortright with her fan.] I wouldn't have missed meeting you for anything. Cortright. [Bewitched.] Thank you. THE WASTREL HOARD. 215 Mary. [Overcoming a nervous, pathetic, little laugh, she sings the air of the quintette at the smugglers' cave.] AUegrb deciso. nier, c'est notre af-fai guard, be eas- y, broth - ers tre U aime a plaire, D _ — as weD as otb-ers, They Tout, comma un au They- like , to please. fai - re le g-a-lant^ be gal-lant, and morel Ahl AIil Lais- ses- nous pas-ser en a - Let OS go OD a while ba- [Mary hands the rubies to Cortright.] CoRTRiGHT. Those are beauties. Those were not pur- chased in this country. Not that it makes any difference now, but I'm only telling you. I know every bit of jewelry in that class. Pigeon blood, every one of them. Russell. [To Victor.] Did you make the gift? Victor. I'm sorry to say I didn't. Russell. [To Mary.] "lT7;o gave them to you? Mary. The Crown Prince of Germany. Victor. "To match your lips," you remember? Russell. Why did you accept them ? Mary. As a matter of course. History records no' in- stance of an actress with fortitude enough to refuse a pres- ent of jewelry. [She cuts the white piping.] See, here are some more of them. [She draws out a string of dia- monds.] Russell. Where did you get these? Mary. From a Russian Grand Duke. Victor. "For your swan-white neck," the scoundrel ! Russell. Why did you take them? Mary. As a matter of habit. See, here are some more. 216 THE WASTREL HOARD. [She cuts the blue piping, and drains out a string of sapphires.^ Russell. Where did you get those? Mary. From one who hopes some day to be Emperor of Austria-Hungary. Victor. "For your eyes to dim," the rake. EussELL. Why did you take them? Mary. To fill out the set — -[She holds them up togeth- er'] — and to give them to Uncle Sam. See, they are red, white, and blue. But here are some more. \_She cuts her wide belt of gray and draws out several collars of pearls and holds them up.] The tears of the greater and the lesser nobility of Europe! Victor. [With comic disgust.] Yes, damn them. "Your pearly teeth!" CoRTRiGHT. I'm sorry. Miss. I'll have to take them. All smuggled goods are confiscated. You may buy them back at auction. Mary. Not much. I wouldn't stain my fingers with them. To me they represent the blood, the tears, the bruised hearts, and the ashes of existence such things mean to the common people from whom they are exacted. I've been trying to get rid of them without exciting comment, from the start. Russell. Did Mr. Chance know about these gifts? Mary. He certainly did, and he agreed with me. Didn't you? Victor. You bet I did. CORTRIGHT. Anything else? [Mary draws a cloth hag from her corsage.] Mary. Some of these I shall claim. There are things for you all — presents, Mr. Cortright. CoRTRiGHT. That makes no difference. I'll just list these things and make out the papers. [Steps into another room. Calls others in except Russell, Mary and Mrs. Morse. Mary clutches THE WASTREL HOARD. 217 at something concealed in her corsage over her heart and restrains an exclamation of triumph.] Maey. Russell ! [Enter Bullard suddenly hut stealthily from the door at the right. His appearance and manner betray nervousness induced hy a great worry and solace sought in drink.] Bullard. I hope I do not intrude. Mrs. Morse. [Checking an expression of surprise.] Not at all. I am glad to see you, Mr. Bullard. Did you have a pleasant voyage? Bullard. Yes, thank you. If you will pardon me, I have very urgent business with Mr. Turner and Miss [To Russell.] Shall we step out? At last, we three to- gether? Russell. There need be no privacy in our relations. Bullard. I wasn't considering my own peace of mind. Russell. Nor need you consider mine. Mrs. Morse. Will you kindly excuse me? I'll see that you are not disturbed. [Goes into other room.] Bullard. You are a public official, I believe. Russell. I am. Bullard. In the Department of State of the United States of America? Russell. Correct. I am Counselor. You remember— I have but one client. Bullard. Huh? Russell. The American People ! Bullard. Exactly! And in the absence of your su- perior you became Acting Secretary of State. Russell. That is true. Bullard. And as such you had power to surrender valuable advantages of the people of the United States. Russell. Practically— if I were so disposed. Bullard. Ten days ago you were for a few days in charge of the State Department? 218 THE WASTREL HOARD. Russell. I was. In fact, even the President was inac- cessible. BuLLARD. And your country was struggling before an international tribunal to retain certain advantages in the use of the Pacific Canal? Russell. Yes. Go on. BuLLARD. And you used your power to sell out your country ? Russell. What! That is a crime! BuLLARD. My boy ! It is worse than a crime ; it is a mistake. In effect, you committed high treason. Russell. You scoundrel [Russell advances toward Bullard. Bullard draws out a small revolver, with a pearl handle, studded with diamonds. Mary starts at recogni- tion of the pistol. The muzzle is pointed toward Russell. Mary steps in front of Russell with an exclamation and attempts to restrain him.] Mary. Russell ! [Russell steps hack.] Bullard. This pistol is loaded — with jewels. [Turn- ing to Mary.] It just fits a lady's hand. Russell. You mean ? Bullard. I mean to have my say. If anyone is hurt, appearances must point as I choose. Russell. The report will Bullard. Be followed by a great silence. [Bullard places the pistol on the desk.] Besides, this pistol makes no sound. [Bullard picks up the pistol, aims at a sofa cushion and pulls the trigger. Only a click is heard. Bul- lard draws from his pocket, with his left hand, a box of cartridges, places it on the desk, takes one from the "box, breaks the pistol, ejects a discharged shell, replaces it with the loaded shell, replaces the pistol on the desk, draws from his pocket a handsome leather pistol-case, and places THE WASTREL HOARD. 219 it on the desk.] These were purchased ten days ago at The Hague, where they had just been put upon the market, by an American lady, a mysterious cottager at Scheven. ingen, where the pistol and slugs were found, but we'll say they were smuggled into this country for an emergency [Mary has watched Bullard's handling of the pis- tol with intense interest and her absorption he- comes gradually more apparent up to the moment of the disclosure of a plan for the use of the pistol, when she passes her hand across her forehead and covers her eyes. At the loord "emergency," she starts, but her spell passes icith a reassuring look at Russell.] — vengeance or suicide, or both, or merely self-defense. Circumstances would indicate which. [Russell and Mary loatch Bullard with open mouths, as if astounded at a new discovery of a hitherto unsuspected character. They ejaculate at the same time.] Russell. You 1 Mary. You . [Bullard interrupts them coldly.] Bullard. And now, as I was saying, you were in the pay of your new client. [Russell moves toward the pistol. Bullard antici- pates him. Mary grasps Russell's left arm.] Russell. I'll step out with you Bullard. The British shipping interests? Mary. [To Bullard. J Are you plaintiff's counsel? Russell. [Not noticing Mary's speech.] I'll make you eat your words I Bullard. [Not noticing Mary^s speech.] Like Bene- dict Arnold. 220 THE WASTREL HOARD. Mary. [To Bullard.] Are you workang for England's enemy ? EussELL. [Not noticing Mary^s speech.] Or I'll choke you. Bullard. And I can prove it. [Russell becomes calmer and curious. Mary gives up the attempt to get into the quarrel.] EussELL. How? Bullard. The original cable was removed from the files of the State Department. EussELL. I never saw it. Bullard. While you were in charge. Russell. The cable company has no record. Bullard. And Congress is now debating the question of an inquiry and punishment. Russell. I have tried to solve the riddle myself. Bullard. And you may undo the damage. Mary. [Eagerly.] How? Tell me how / can help him! Bullard. By joining hands with me. It'll be all right. Russell. Never ! Bullard. I'll make restitution for you to your British clients and double their retainer. And I'll call off the in- vestigation. Remember I The mailing of one letter puts you at the mercy of a scurvy politician on the Federal Bench ! Russell. Leave this house. Bullard. Not until I have had my say. Russell. There are ladies in the next room. Bullard. And one here who is your confederate.; Russell. This is no — time — ! Bullard. An American adventuress [Russell moves towards the telephone.] Russell. This is not the place — ! Headquarters — ! [Bullard raises the pistol. Mary restrains Rus- sell.] THE WASTREL HOARD. 221 BuLLARD. {With great feeling.] She has brought you to this. Russell. And have you jailed. IjULLard. And she has deceived you. [Mary leaves Russell^s side and advances toward Bullard. Russell moves forward to restrain her.] Russell. Stop! I won't listen to you. Bullard. And I can prove it. Mary. [Turning to Russell.] Please let him prove it. Russell. [Speaking half to each.] This must not go on. Mary. [Turning to Bullard.] Proceed, Mr. Bullard. I am listening. Bullard. Will you answer my questions? Mary. Yes. Russell. No. She will not. Bullard. [Turning to Mary.] Will you prevent in- terference? Mary. Mr. Turner will not interrupt. Bullard. Very good, then. How long have you been in Europe? Mary. Almost two years and a half. Bullard. Studying music, and singing? Mary. Yes. And human nature ! Bullaed. You have met many distinguished men? Mary. Very many. All the somebodies, most of them nobodies ! Bullard. And have accepted attentions from them? Mary. Yes.. Bullard. And gifts? Mary. Yes. Bullard. And you have lived well? Mary. Yes. [With sarcasm.] You know — I had my scholarship. 222 THE WASTREL HOARD. BuLLARD. And you have represented to every one of them that the Pacific Canal should be free? Mary. Yes. BuLLARD. And that the American people should insist upon it? Mary. I believe it. Special privileges are a peril to popular freedom, even in the nation that claims them as a national boon. Bullard. And you bound to you, among others, a ma- jority of the judges of the Hague Tribunal as constituted for the Pacific Case? Mary. In a way. Bullard. By intimacy with them. Mary. Where is the proof? Bullard. I had it from the gentlemen themselves. Mary. Gentlemen ? Political gunmen ! Like yourself. Russell. Is this true? Mary. Is what true? Russell. That you know these men? Mary. Every successful singer knows them. Russell. Did they make love to you? Mary. They did, but Russell. But they did make love to you? Mary. They made love to me. I was austere. But I fought the devil with fire ! I had to To overcome Mr. Bullard, however, didn't require either a Judith or a Gemma — nor a Tosca or a Monna Vanna! No siren song ! Bullard. And during that time you became a mother? [Mary clutches at her corsage over her heart. Bul- lard observes that Mary is wearing Russell^s locket. She observes the one Bullard is wearing upon his watch-chain.] Mary. Where is your proof? Bullard. You brought a child with you to the United States. THE WASTREL HOARD, 223 Maey. Yes? Russell. Is that true"? [Russell grips the sailing list, looks down at it as if he would like to drop it hut can't, looks at Dul- lard, down at the sailing list again, and then at Mary.] Mary. I can't answer that [BuLLARD moves away from the pistol, leaving it within reach of either Russell or Mary. Hb draws out a lady's pocket handkerchief and holds it crumpled in his right hand.] Bullabd. Then you'll answer to a Congressional Com- mittee. Mary. It will be time enough to deny it then. Russell. [Turning to Mary.] Tell him he lies ! Tell him now I ! Mary. [Turning to Russell and speaking tenderly.] Why should I tell himf [Turning to Bullard.] A man should not interfere with children until he has shown the record of his own offspring ! Uncle Sam can nurse vipers, it seems, but can't tolerate his own natural children. Bullaed. I've requested a child be deported. Mary. [Momentarily off her guard.] No! — No! — No! Russell. [To Bullard.] No! — No! Mary. [Controlling herself , and to B^v^^^lIj.] You see! [ Crescendo. ] That doesn't concern him ! ! Russell. But it concerns me. Mary. Then I shouldn't tell him! Bullard. And this pocket-handkerchief — [Bullard displays the handkerchief, examines the initial, and tosset it upon the table] — was given me by young Victor Chance at The Hague. Mary. Unto this! — Last! — lago! [Bullard winces.] You stooped at The Hague — I dropped my handkerchief — as a challenge, hoping you would pick it up. 224 THE WASTREL HOARD. BuLLAED. Well, keep your confidences, if you wish, provided you join hands with me — both of you. It'll be all right. KussELL. [Turning away from Maey.] Not both of us. I am in no confederacy. BuLLAED. Are you not in British employ? Russell. I am not. My mouth has been sealed. BuLLAED. And you didn't know she was? Russell. Certainly not, and Maey. You haven't proved it. BULLAED. But I will. Russell. [Turning to face Maey.] Prove he can't. Maey. That is easy. Bullaed. [Affects a sneer.'] Of course, you had sources of information other women lacked. But how do you propose to prove it? Maey. [Turning to Bullaed.] "Out of thine own mouth will I judge thee." By your own words? Bullaed. To whom? Maey. To Senator Morse. Bullaed. There were no witnesses. Maey. You are mistaken? Bullaed. And I admitted nothing. Maey. Except that you had the Court bought. Bullaed. Who heard that? Maey. I did. Bullaed. You won't be believed. Maey, There was another witness. Bullaed. Who was it? Maey. A Dutch official. Bullaed. [As tvith a had memory.] Ugh I The Flying Dutchman I He — lies! He couldn't tell sl straight yarn ! He's all at sea ! He won't be believed against me ! Maey. But Senator Morse will. Bullaed. He wouldn't believe it himself. Maey. Not from you, but he had corroboration. Bullaed. [Starting as if from twinges. ] From whom? THE WASTREL HOARD. 225 Mary. From the judges themselves. BuLLARD. But there were no witnesses. The judges didn't suspect it themselves. Mary. One judge knew. He was your master and your master's master. The man who sells himself never knows who the buyer is or how much he's giving up. The plot against the Canal was not for commerce, not for peace, but for war — war against your own country — to keep our two oceans, our two shores, and our two fleets, and those of the friends of liberty far apart, while our foreign-owned railroads served their master's armies, drafted from our very midst. You didn't know, but I know now, and I can prove it. What you attempted was worse than a crime; it was a mistake. Their purpose is to keep our railroads from our canal in war time! In effect, you were commit- ting high treason. [Mary imitates Liebig von Speidel.] '^Don't quote me ! Don't quote me ! International benker! That's me I" And just then a shot was fired at him or for him at Sarajevo ! Big guns, big business, and rakes — hold- ing one another up. The three lusts — potation, power, and prostitution. If each of these evils is necessary, why are they always found together? They arise from the love of hoards — the big and little hoards ; he who serves the hoard- ers serves their lusts — and his own destruction. The world must see and declare that those who are not socially honest cannot be personally honest — which is to say, per- sonally sane. The world's pity should be their scourge ! BuLLARD. [Opening Jiis eyes as if taking in a new thought and almost expressive of gratitude to his inform- ant.] Why do you say that? How do you know that? [BuLLARD assumes an attitude almost of terror.] By whom can you prove that? , Mary. By the same two witnesses — they heard the separate version of all the Bullard. [Becomes calmer and assumes, as if defen- sively, his attitude of defiance.] Before you can be heard you will be in jail. Throughout Europe, you'll be hounded 226 THE WASTREL HOARD. as a spy. Your contract with Wolf was meant to keep you far from The Hague. By breaking it without notice, you committed, fortunately, the one unpardonable sin of the theatre. It has already been arranged that you shall never sing in any opera house in the world. Mary. [Imitating Bullard^s speech.] That's the German system ! Even the brightest are its dupes ! [Mary resumes her earnest manner. Confidently.] I didn't depend upon the villains in Europe, and I certainly won't in my own country. A simple, honest melody will outrun the clink of your gold, the world over. Music is the one inter- national and universal language, and America can speak it for herself. I appealed to the common people of Europe, through the universal chord, and I shall certainly awaken a response in the people of my own country. America needs no leadership — of Teuton or Briton! America will thrust aside all who see only the pay in patriotism and through that America herself will lead the world. Bullard. I want to see that ! A lot that'll get you ! Mary. America needs foreign music about as much as it needs to import strawberries. I have sung an entire program of American songs from the concert stage of every country in Europe, the songs of the race, that be- speak its ever-remembering soul — Bullard. Its what! Mary. Its salvation from your kind. A short memory is fatal to popular freedom. Bullard. [Darting a sinister, threatening looh at both Mary and Russell.] It's often convenient for individuals. Mary. [Meeting the challenge with a smile.] Well, I always ended by summing up these memories — and all the individuals, in vibrant harmony with me, stirred the mystic chords of memory that stretch world-wide in the real peo- ple's anthem, "Home, Sweet Home." [Bullard sneers.] Yes. There's in that song a general heartbeat that circles the earth in instantaneous response. And Vm going to sing that program from the stage of the Metropol- THE WASTREL HOARD. 227 itan and elsewhere until the "breath from the sky" is breathed again and politics and corruption give place, all over this broad land, to patriotism and co-operation. You forget that I am a scholar sent abroad by America's great- est Opera House, and that I captured Europe. You know that; you contrived it yourself so as to get me out of the country. But I did not join the international geishas. That's why I'm tabooed. There's a musical serfdom both for artists and public. I started my emancipation in Eu- rope; I'll complete it at home. I'll sing in American opera with American singers in every opera city in America. "The eagle suffers little birds to sing, and is not careful what they mean thereby!" Would your precious friends, your retired burglar patrons of art, rather have the people hear my voice or have them hear why they can't? No dishonest act or even a whisper will ever get me a chance to sing. BuLLARD. I've only one wish about you; I wish you were a man. Mary. You wouldn't, if you loere. Big guns blew one American girl from the stage of the Metropolitan, but they never will another ! BuLLARD. I repeat, you'll be in jail before you are heard. Mary. I have already been heard. BuLLARD. In what way? Mary. / read in the wireless news on shipboard that Congress was investigating the suspension of the Hague Tribunal, and I wired the Speaker of the House of Repre- sentatives to await my statement. Bullard. He'll never receive it. Mary. But he did receive it. I was met outside the har- bor by the Speaker's secretary, swore to my statement, and gave it to him, early this morning, just as the July sun was rising over the Statue of Liberty. He telephoned it to the Speaker in Washington, where it was taken down by a stenographer. I don't believe there vdW be any investiga- 228 THE WASTREL HOARD. tion. If it isn't called off for good now, the American peo- ple will have their say about the matter, and the Hague Tribunal will never be reconvened for this case. [Mary picks up the ejected shell, examines it, and smiles.] BuLLAED. May I use the telephone? I'd better go out- side. I will see you all later. It'll be all right. [BuLLARD starts to go out. Mary halts him, points to the pistol case and cartridges, watches him take them and put them into his pocket, and makes him listen as he goes.] Mary. That silencer — don't try to shoot anybody with those bullets. I had the powder drawn. I'm not a coward, but I am afraid of pistols. Decent people all are, and, when they really control the governments of the world, there is going to be absolute disarmament all around. And we'll begin by taking back the war chests that make it possible to feed the mouths of cannon but not the mouths of children, to support the world's breadwinners while they are killing one another, but not while they are slaving for the grand alliance of industrial, political, financial, and military dynasts in times of peace. We'll take a turn at killing mon- sters in the embryo and letting the little children live. People who keep more money than they know how to use properly are intellectual perverts, and they should be put out of the way of exercising their perversion upon society. The only way civilization can withstand the force of gun- powder is to eliminate it from civilization. The two can't survive together ! When gold and gunpowder do the fight- ing what chance is there for manhood? The next war must not end until a world power is established to keep the world disarmed. The best plan of self-defense has always been to disarm the adversary and now it seems civilization's only plan. Your kind could all turn their talent for destruction to a better use ! [BuLLARD makes a gesture of despair, takes the pis- tol and cartridges from his pocket, and places THE WASTREL HOARD. 22» them on the desk. Russell takes them up, sniffs the muzzle of the pistol, and thrusts the pistol and the cartridges into his pocket.] Mary. The Senator will return your scholarship fund intact, Mr. Bullard, \\dth interest. I was soon able to make my own way. A little aid to the struggling young person is never a bad investment. I hope the next scholar makes good use of it — [Mary draics paper from corsage over her left hreast] — better than you intended. A social system which offers to tender, virtuous, and dependent women the alternative between prostitution and suicide as an escape from beggary is organized crime for which some day unre- lenting justice will demand atonement and expiation. [Bullard notices for the first time the picture of "Siceet Lily Earle." He starts, and Mary glances hurriedly at the object of his attention. Bullard looks at Russell and from Russell to Mary.] And — by the way — Mr. Bullard, if you need a copy of your cable to Winmer from The Hague about the Chance holdings, I will lend you mine. {Extend- ing hand with telegram in it.] Or your cable to the Treas- ury Department demanding my apprehension. When in- vestigating cables always look for those both ways ! Bullard. {Throwing up his hands and going out hur- riedly.] Thanks for the suggestion. I shall! Russell. Why did you conceal these things? Why did you come second class? Wh}^ did you carry concealed jew- els? Why did you not deny his insinuations? Mary. All for a purpose. I knew Bullard's plan to have me searched. I had something to conceal at any cost — even by the pretence of smuggling. That is why I changed steamers — and costumes [Mary points to the sailing list in Russell^s hand. He takes it in hoth hands and examines the list eagerly; having found the place, he turns to Mary.] Russell. Didn't Mr. Chance know about that? 230 THE WASTREL HOARD. Mary. Nobody knows about that. Two years ago, I made a secret trip to New York. Only mother was here. EussELL. Were you here then? Mrs. Morse has had a weekly letter Mary. I wrote ten in advance, and had them mailed EussELL. But each letter contained a long, circumstan- tial account of — what you had — not — been doing. Mary. Naturally — a real Avoman's letter. I told mother what / wanted her to think. The public's prefer- ence for single singers ! — and so the darling actually helped me to deceive — the public! EusSELL. Why did you do that? Mary. Eead this. The jewels saved that. A mother must think — for the future." Women are born smugglers! {^Draws paper from her corsage. Eussell reads it and hastily thrusts it in his pocket.] Eussell. How^ much a little scrap of paper may mean ! Mary. It is only a scrap of paper, but all the world to me! Bullard guessed that night in there — [Mary points toward the door of the banquet roo7n] — and he knew you didn't. Until The Hague, he thought he had kept me from you. Eussell. [Pointing to something in the paper.] Is that true?— the Fourth of July? Mary. Yes. Two years ago today. At last, I have reached my goal. Bullard dare not speak ! Eussell. Why did you conceal it from me? Mary. To protect a woman — and her two girls. It doesn't matter now. She is dead. And the girls will never know, Eussell. Mary! And the great sacrifice for the man escaped you ! For me you've made all past time aglow. Mary. The sacrifice was lost in its joy. And I came to this country to preserve the rights of a boy. I was bound he should have his birthright ! That was my stake in the THE WASTREL HOARD. 231 great fight. Oh, the unshared sorrow and the untold pain ! And to be so alone — at that time when a woman most needs the consolation of— the father of her child. But it brought out the woman that was in me, that nothing could smother then I gladly bore it with joy and rapture for your «ake. If you had known, I could not have kept on alone. Russell. Mary, dear, I wish I were worth it Mary. And by thut, my faith in you, which never flagged, was tested— and justified. It came to me without a question. The Dutch official, in charge of the cables, was Hugo Gulp. Russell. [With mixed wonderment and pleasure.] Gulp ! My good, loyal Gulp. Mary. Mij good, loyal Gulp. Hugo De Groot Gulp. Russell. Hugo De Groot Gulp — Baron Van Deventer ! Mary. Of the nobility ! He never mentioned it. Russell. They never do in Holland. It is the real thing there. Mary. I should say it is ! Russell. Gulp is a descendant of Hugo Grotius. Mary. The embryo again ! Russell. What ! Mary. Ideas and character are just born over and over again. Men of low aims sink in the sea of time. Russell. Yes. Gulp would never tell the story. Mary. But he did say there was one. Russell. Yes. Mary. And soon after — Senator Morse — about you — Bullard was goading him — I Avas eavesdropping — and I heard — Senator Morse squelched Bullard with the story. Russell. And Ghance didn't know anything of this? Mary. Trust a woman to deceive. Victor was easily deceived. He was so infatuated. Russell. With you? Mary. Of course not. With somebody else. [Enter Victor, Mrs. Morse, and Gortright.] Weren't vou, Vic- tor? 232 THE WASTREL HOARD. Victor. What? Mary. Infatuated with a girl? Victor. You bet I was, and I am. Mary. Other than me? Victor. Certainly. Excuse me, but it's true. KussELL. Is that true, Chance? Victor. By all that's holy. Russell. Was she in Europe? Victor. No. Of course not. You know perfectly well, she has never left this country. Russell. Well, that's a queer sign of infatuation. Victor. But a necessary one. I had a queer obsession to overcome before I could hope to win. I came back on purpose to Russell. [Concealing his impatience only with ef- fort.] Well, if it's not asking too much, who is the young woman? Victor, It's Alice Morse. I've been waiting for her father to arrive, but I'm getting impatient. Now she knows what I'm here for. Alice. And you may as well know that your trip has been wasted. You may go back to Europe when your friend goes? Mary. Alice, how could you? Alice. I have no use for a husband who does his court- ing by racing all over Europe at the heels of somebody else. Only a man blinded by the possession of money and the power it gives could dare to speak to a girl about marriage under the circumstances. What could she expect from him afterward? An absent honeymoon, I guess. I've said I'd never marry a man of means, and I won't. I don't care how fine he is, or how much I care for him. I won't marry him, I won't ! I won't Victor. But, Alice [The library chime strikes one.] Maby. This is not new to me. My dear child, this boy TEE WASTREL HOARD. 233 has been following me all over Europe, pestering me about you and your ideas. [The desk clock strikes three times.] Victor. [In a mock serious manner.] Yes, I repeated it all. "The greatest force on earth is the force of inertia." That's what keeps the rich young man down. He does not need to do anything and he does nothing. [The clock above strikes three times.] "He walks beneath the moon, He sleeps beneath the sun, He lives the life of going-to-do. And dies [The chime in the hall helotv strikes once.] — with nothing done." "Death to the idle rich ! Only those who serve should survive " And so on. We both know the whole speech by heart. Mary. He told me you wouldn't marry him because he had money and I said I didn't blame you. I told him I agreed with you. And why do you suppose he kept at me? Only to be convinced. We became a debating society. He knew I believed earnestly in the dangers of a great fortune. He wanted to see it my way, and couldn't. Alice. And he never will. Mary. But he used to draw out the solitaire and gaze at it and then he'd ply me with questions. KussELL. Is that what you've been keeping dark for a whole year. Chance? Victor. It's mighty hard to keep a diamond dark. It's been burning holes all over me. Mary. At first he fell back on family traditions, his responsibilities to society, and to his descendants. Just the same thing as the divine right of kings, you know, insanity, furor teutonicus, a destructive state of mind. Then he ex- plained that he could administer his property better than 234 TEE WASTREL HOARD. another — that it was founded a century ago. It was pay- ing wages, giving employment, and all that — just King Alcohol's plea. Like all the rich, he inherited from Chance and thought it was Providence. Alice. I've heard it all. It's no use. Mary. But it is some use. He thought so because he kept at me to convince him. His silence deceives Alice. But you didn't. Victor. But she did. [Victor draws out an old-fashioned purse, holds it out to Alice^ and commences to recite :] "There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that " [Cortright intercepts the purse and interrupts the speech.] Cortright. Sorry to interrupt you, but I'll have to trouble you for that solitaire. Victor. Life is just one hold-up after another. You are just in time, officer. Cortright. That's me. Victor. Here, Alice. The only assets I have in the world now are this — [Drawing out a belt filled with jew- els] — a Fifth Avenue residence, three country places, wine cellars, a house in London and in Paris, shooting-lodges, a stock farm, kennels, game preserves, conservatories, two steam yachts, some automobiles, collections of paintings, sculpture, armor, jewels, and a dozen other useless little things like those. [Alice frowns; Victor continues reas- surringly.] They pay no dividends, and I am giving them to you [Alice smiles.] Now you see how much I love you. The divine right to be maintained forever in the style to which I have been accustomed, I have abandoned entire- ly. I've removed the last barrier to a perfect union. I can live without everything — but you. [As if wound up to con THE WASTREL HOARD. 235 tinue.] I neither drink nor smoke. I've got rid of the worst of vices — the fear of poverty. And I Alice. Victor ! You poor man ! [Alice gives way to tears.] Come kiss me. Mary. [Laughing hut dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.] And now she's weeping! "How much bet- ter it is to weep at joy than to joy at weeping I'' Victor. It wasn't because she liked it, but just for the experience ! Eh ! Alice. [Through her tears.] I can't tell! [Victor and Alice embrace. Cortright goes to the back of the stage. Russell and Mary go to a corner and commence to talk together.] Victor. [As soon as Alice half releases him.] And I persuaded Aunt Havorbee to give up her cocktail. Pretty good, at her time of life. Eh ! Alice. [Humming and half singing, as she leads Vic- tor to another corner.] ^^Because you come to me with naught save love ^" [Thorburn enters and watches the group a mo- ment.] Thorburn. Are congratulations in order? [Thorburn shakes hands with Alice, Victor, and Mrs. Morse.] Victor. Yes, indeed. Glad you are in on them. Thorburn. I missed you at the steamer, Victor. I'm not surprised. I lost no time. Thorburn. Mr. Bullard said I should find you here. Excuse my coming. Victor. That's all right. How about the deed? Thorburn. That's what I wish to speak about. [Mrs. Morse and Alice join Russell and Mary, and the four stand away from Victor and Thor- burn.] Victor. Well, everybody knows now. Speak right out. 236 THE WASTREL HOARD. Thorburn. Well, you see — I've been attorney for the Chance estate since the time of your grandfather, and I didn't expect you'd do this when I drew the papers and Victor. But you drew them and agreed to sign them. Thorburn. Yes, but representations have been made to me that question might be raised. Victor. To what? Thorburn. Well — to the form. Victor. That may be remedied. Anything else? Thorburn. And to your competency. Victor. I am over twenty-one . Thorburn. But such a deed is unusual — and consider- ing the amount — unheard of Victor. Well, getting that amount of money the way I did is not heard of very often, either. Thorburn. The law of wills Victor. I won't question the source of it, but I know that a man simply can't earn and keep even one million dollars without being unjust. Thorburn. Society permits it. Victor. So far as my right against society is con- cerned, my ancestors had no greater right to leave me a million dollars or I the right to receive it than they would have had to leave me, after the custom of the ancient Greeks, their debts to that amount, and to impose upon me the obligation to pay that deficit out of my own prop- erty or by my own effort. Thorburn. There must be capitalists. Victor. Is a capitalist more worth to his race than a Shakespeare or a Rembrandt?- Why should posterity keep paying royalties to the one and not to the others? Money is not immortal! Money is not creative! Money is not even intelligent!! Shakespeare was the royalest of kings. From him all men inherit. He left an empire of divine humanity. He made all men gods and created a universe — of the soul. Thorburn. Culture rests on inheritance ! Inheritance THE WASTREL HOARD. 237 by the male line held society together long before Shake- speare. Victor. The society of dynasts. The common people have paid dear for that necessity, Male parentage is the most unprovable thing in the world — a birth certificate — a mere scrap of paper. Thorburn. The world revolves about the contrary of that proposition. That mere scrap of paper is the one great guarantee of civilization. Victor. Russell, here, and I were born at the same hospital, at the same time. By what social principle waa I determined to be fortune's favorite? Thorburn. By an unfailing instinct felt by your mother, your father, and you — registered in a scrap of paper at their marriage and in another scrap of paper when you were born. Victor. It is important, then, that the scrap of paper speak the truth. I, for one, never felt that instinct for my parents — any more than if we had been parted at my birth. Thorburn. A child's instinct reaches forward to its child — seldom backward to its parents. Victor. I did love dolls — which doesn't prove a thing. Thorburn. Well, under the law, the scrap of paper gives you the power to dispose of your property as you choose — and it will continue to give to the remotest fila- ment of your ancestry the tensile power of the strongest chain. Through it you are the master of your property, not I, or anyone else. Victor. And I'm bound to dispose of it — realty as well as personalty, the first in a family that has practiced always to buy land but never to sell — an infallible way to get ever richer without work — after the manner, say, of the religious orders which Edward the First and Edward the Third, the great lawmakers, corrected, and whose mon- asteries Henry the Eighth's Cardinal Wolsey turned into institutions for useful education. Thorburn. But our ancestors 238 THE WASTREL HOARD. Victor. We needn't go back. I suppose the rich today sanctify their greed by attributing it to a desire to preserve the institution of the family. As a matter of fact we have erected in the name of the family a structure that is mak- ing the perpetuation of the family impossible. We cau't take our holdings with us and we can't exchange them for Heaven. Yet we let our terror at an added mill of taxation stifle individual ambitions, subvert national aspirations, keep down the public wealth, and block civilization itself. My immediate ancestors made me a fit object for a new Statute of Mortmain. Why, it was this sort of things that started the French Revolution, and has kept Mexico in perpetual warfare. Mine will not be the "dead hand" to hold these properties — or the shrivelled hand, either. Thorburn. You are only one in a thousand. Victor. I'm one too many ! Do you know that ninety per cent, of the adults who die in a community containing more millionaires than any other in the world leave no estate at all, and less than two per cent, leave ten thousand dollars? The American city which has most inherited wealth — founded on trade in slaves and rum, and other such honorable pursuits — and most highbrow culture, is now the drunkenest city in the world ! "All for a few" must go; "each for all" must come. Are Americans going to stand for this when Mexican peons won't? I am going to open my hand before the people pry it open with a bayonet — the people or a foreign foe! [Mary moves toward Thorburn and Victor.] Thorburn. You at least see one-half the danger. Our rich clients have come to realize it. Just as low society's members are identified for their more just punishment — an attainder, in a way, to prevent change in them — by fin- ger-prints, high society's babes will hereafter be known, to assure them fortune's favor, by the footprint. Now, I am your friend. I merely wish you to avoid attack Victor. Fortune's heirs should be adopted grown up on the basis of proved merit ! What do you mean, attack? THE WASTREL HOARD. 239 Thoebubn. You are allied with the Merwin group. They have been to see me. They insist you'll cause a panic before readjustment can be made, and ruin innocent peo- ple. They pretend to be anxious about your health. Victor. My sanity, I suppose. Well, I'm more con- Tinced than ever. I never knew real happiness until I made up my mind to be myself, and since I have resolved to do without money, I have had nothing but happiness. A will disposing of millions to an individual should be upset, without other proof, for the insanity of the testator. My friends Mary. This may explain their friendship. [Mary hands the Bullard cablegram to Victor.] Victor. [Reads cablegram aloud.] "The Hague, June 28, 1914. ^'WiNMER, New York. "Youthful suffering acute attack dementia altruistica Americana proposes deed of gift removing entire holdings from control. — See Thorburn. — Hold up deed — have com- mitment papers ready, and prepare Sheriff's Jury to ex- amine into sanity. — Signed — Bullard." The villain! At least, I'm not money mad — or power mad, either. The Sheriff's Jury had better look for the bigger fish — and the Sheriff's Posse, too. [Victor pauses a moment, stares at the telegram, raises his head, and holds the telegram aloft.] My God! Crooks and makers of crooks in control of the world's Justice! Judges of probate — politicians. What a chance a child has after all ! Why shouldn't infant- killing flourish ! With justice the pawn of politics ! [Mrs. Morse, Alice, and Russell come up to Vic- tor, Thorburn, and Mary. Thorburn appears to be restrained for that reason from giving a direct ansicer.] Thorburn, I drew your grandfather's will. He gave jour father only a life interest in the bulk of his fortune 240 THE WASTREL HOARD. because he couldn't figure out how to use it himself, and he knew your father couldn't. He only hoped to make a will that could not be broken — and that was no easy task for one in his advanced age and circumstances. He ex- pressed to me the wish that a boy might get it all who would think of others at the beginning of his life as he had tried to do at the end, "not," he said, "to be minis- tered unto, but to minister, and to give his life as a ran- som for many." "Thorburn," said he, "the love of too much money shrivels the soul and makes it small. If my heir must do as I have done, better he were never born !" Victor. {Smiling.'] What does Bullard say to that? Thorburn. I fear he knows he has overreached him- self, and is desperate. He says he alone can prove the old man had his wish — that your birth certificate even is in his handwriting — that there never was an heir to the Chance estate. He forgets the family Bible. Victor. There wasn't any in our family. These [Victor indicates Alice hy his glance'] people are more to me now than my parents ever were. I'm sorry to say mine wasn't this kind of a family. Thorburn. What! That's what Bullard said. It strengthens his position ! He was the doctor ! Victor. Chance! I've heard inheritance called the modern form of fate. Big fortunes certainly have a way of getting sidetracked And — with all respect to the profession you honor by your membership, big fortunes make vultures of the bar. You "follow the property." Thorburn. Vultures gather Victor. Then the property would go back to the State anyway. The public was the only possible victim. Eh ! Thorburn. Yes. Private property goes hack by the law of escheat. But Bullard is absurd The law estab- lishes an overwhelming presumption in favor of a child born in wedlock. Bullard may be mistaken ! Victor. Well — less cheat and more escheat would do this country good. If I didn't get the old man's blood, I've THE WASTREL HOARD. 241 got his spirit. No man is born marked of God to be above another, for none comes into the world with a saddle upon his back, neither any booted and spurred to ride him. Shall a thief's heir keep w^hat the live thief must yield and a patricide can't hold? I'm going to give the law of escheat a little exercise. Of what use is it to be heir of all the ages if you can't enjoy the inheritance! Alice. Victor would better give himself to the work, too. Victor. He must first set the example who would say "Go, thou, and do likewise." Mary. Plucking a single leaf never rooted up a tree. Mrs. Morse. That's right. Little can be done with money alone. The vagaries of rich men in their philan- thropies often suggest the need of public direction as much as the efforts of dangerous criminals. Thorburn. The strange thing about all this is that the graduated inheritance tax is quite orthodox and scientific. The curtailment oi' hoards — inter vivos and causa mortis — is the one feasible, constructive means of economic re- adjustment. Victor. I'll take your advice, Mr. Thorburn. Thorburn. I am at your service. Good day. [Thorburn goes out.] Cortright. Say, young man, what Is your name? Victor. Victor Chance. Cortright. Say, were these [Disparagingly] trinkets — bought in this country? Victor. Every one! Cortright. Take these things back. That name means something to a cop. {Pointing to Mary.] Is this lady a friend of yours? Victor. A very dear friend. Cortright. Well, I don't like this business. Who is this gentleman? Victor. Let me introduce you ; Mr. Cortright, this is Russell Turner, Acting Secretary of State of the LTnited States. 242 THE WASTREL HOARD. CoRTRiGHT. For the love of Say, Counselor — can't we fix this thing up? Whose house is this? Russell. This is the residence of United States Sen- ator John Morse. CoRTRiGHT. And me a detective ! Say, Counselor, can't we fix this up? We ought to've met 'em at the dock! Russell. Enforce the law, Mr. Cortright. CORTRIGHT. Say, this is tough. I'd rather resign. Russell. Afterward. Don't flinch in the performance of your duty. Cortright. I'm not flinching. I'm just thinking. Say, Judge, these here red, white, and blue star-spangled ban- ners are the gifts of royal families, ain't they? Russell. That is so. Cortright. Well, you can't pay duty on those, can you? Russell. The State Department could exempt them. Cortright. Say, Governor, excuse the question, but who is this lady? Russell. [Russell goes up to Mary, throws his right arm over her shoulder, and addresses himself dramatically to all.] This lady — [Victor smiles] — is my wife! [Mary^s eyes fash gratitude up to Russell^s. All look from one to the other. Before anybody can speak, Cortright hursts out in an apology to Russell.] Cortright. Say, Mr. Secretary, I haven't any power in this matter. The lady is in the State Department. We can't collect duty on these things. On the principle of extraterritoriality — you know — I am violating the sov- ereignty of some country — my own, I guess. I'll have to turn this matter over to you. Excuse me. General. Good- bye, all. [Mrs. Morse busies herself to get All but Russell and Mary out of the room.] Mrs. Morse. I'll show you out. THE WASTREL HOARD. 243 [Mrs. Morse, Alice, and Victor shake hands with CoRTRiGHT, pat him on the hack, and go out with him, to shotu him out. Mary and Kussell join in the laugh at Cortright^s attempts to square himself, hut as they realize that they are heing left alone, the look of amusement fades into one of tense seriousness and consciousness of the dan- ger of the hreaking down of restraint. During the following scene, it is apparent that Mary and Russell anticipate a sudden interruption of their interview.] Maey. Thank you, Russell. Russell. We will make it true to us today — and — that scrap of paper — it will always appear so to the world — even if we know it is two years late. Mary. I might have come back to stay before, but I owed it to us all to show what I could do. I owed it espe- cially to our boy. Russell. A boy ! I have not slept, from expectation, since I received your message. [Mary teases with a shade of pity.] Mary. My American official sleepless! Then pour Butterfly has completely turned the tables! Russell. [Accepting the thrust.] What does he look like? [Mary continues in the same mood, but quickly hecomes serious.] Mary. A young God! Look! [M.a.^y opens the locket and displays two pictures.] I have had your picture taken — his — and on his second birthday, / give it to you in this locket. It was — our — gem, wasn't it? Russell. He favors you, not me. Mary. Nonsense. We'll find we hoth take after him. The child is the real parent, after all. In them we live our lives anew. I first felt the stir of his life that night [point- ing] in there. We owe children more than they owe us ! Russell. He's been bereft, too, poor kiddie. We both 244 THE WASTREL HOARD. know what it means. I owe him everything ; I have done nothing for him. There are greater duties than that of a man and a woman to one another. Mary. Oh, the lonesome days and nights away from him and you. Oh! the nights of singing from an aching heart, songs of America, of home, and fireside, of love, and children, among aliens, in a distant land, in my beloved, enthralling native tongue, and working up in me the exquisite pain and the dread reaction from love poured forth to love and hope deferred. And to sing these songs at Christmas. My God I such blues. Every tradi- tion of home and country that had come down to me from centuries rose up within me to make me lonesome and unhappy — as if our Christian holiday were the touchstone of true sentiment and right living. Christmas is the Holy Bpirit of childhood and an integral part of Duty. And this day, too! How deep and strong and harrowing are the patriotic feelings of America! How appealing to the better nature ! A yearning, a love, a striving, pathetically universal, bursting, almost, the very soul of the fond, weak woman who would make it all come true. With all my cosmopolitan veneer, and despite my complex ances- try, I am just a parochial little American girl, after all. Russell. Then you have come through the test the very best thing in the world. Mary. We both needed the test, and we stood it to» gether. You seemed so far and so big and so cold but the boy was so live and sweet and warm, there on my bosom, that you spoke to me wordless, through him, across the world. From the first, your child, nestled under my heart, made your heart and brain and character and spirit of sacrifice a part of me and, too, your little angel hanging on my breasts called forth all the well-springs of knowl- edge and sympathy and purpose that were within me, until I felt reproduced in me the great impulse which moves humanity ever onward and regulates the world. Russell. Mary ! THE WASTREL HOARD. 245 Mary. [Bahhling.] The dear little treasure conld make such marvellous sounds I From the first he could spin a tone wonderfully ! If we could only command such notes I I love him so much ! Russell. Artist and mother I What a lullaby ! Mary. If children could only make their voices heard ! Russell. Some can ! Mary. Not that! He has never cried! He is a man! He doesn't know how to whimper any more than you do ! Russell. Or youl Mary. He made me feel my work and suffer, too. Every money -grasping hand, I felt gripping at my baby's throat, and every uncharitable or scornful glance was a dagger in his little heart — and that of every woman's baby in the world — in wedlock or out. Greater a child without mar- riage, than marriage without a child. Better both, of course. Parenthood may be a vice, but it is a vice that holds the parents. Society cannot tolerate — married or unmarried — the mistress or the rake. The married ones are worse. Even that kind of fish may spawn — and if they spawn, they spawn — tragedies. But the real child — society demands that — for that is its foundation. Russell. And I never knew Mary. Your wonderful letters intensified it all. They gave me the wisdom of the serpent and brought me all the knowledge of the whole earth — and they made me strong. I felt inspired. My whole being became instinct with a new and intense vitality. All the deepest, tenderest, strongest chords of my nature seemed keyed to the high- est pitch, and to be vibrating to the touch of a resistlesa power. Svengali was never nearer to Trilby than you always were to me. Even when, upon a tour, I hadn't a word from you, I always asked myself, on every question, Avhat you would say. My art was only an expression of your intelligence. You made me see the big facts of life! Russell. I put my whole being into — those letters. Mary. You put all — being — into — those letters. I 246 THE WASTREL HOARD. read between the lines. Our love kept me from commun- ion with any other soul on earth. I knew I had you, and, being sure of that, I could do anything. At a moment's doubt, I'd have been in your arms in a week. But I knew the kind of man you are, and I have always considered myself your wife. I have loved you with my whole soul ever since I first saw you. There has been nothing in my life since but the thought of you and our baby, the prenatal forming of his soul. After a storm, did you ever see sun- light play upon golden grain? Well, that's what our boy has been to me. And now I'd have the whole world bathed in sunlight. EussELL. That is my Mary. Mary. The boy's name is yours; you'll be proud of him. If it had been — I have put no stain upon the name of Mary. Russell. I owe you my very life. For you I've had the great devotion my nature always craved. Mary. Russell, dear, loyalty in you is so strong, it is irrational. Few understand that. You don't realize how selfish I have been — enjoying your devotion and our child, while you — had neither of us. Russell. But — God! If you had not really been my ideal! If you had proved not to be the great woman I knew you to be ! If you had not been worthy of the great love I bear you ! But you are, and more ! Thanks to you, the world for me is unprofaned! You have given me my soul. You are the crown of womankind. [Softly.] You are an angel ! [Russell stands as if transfixed in admiratiotk The elevator is heard.] Mary. You're a dear ! You've improvised the wings. [Enter Senator Morse, hy the door at the left, then the Others.] Senator Morse. Hello, Alice. My dear girl — [Kisses Alice] — Hello, Russell. Hello, Mary. Where did you TEE WASTREL HOARD. 247 disappear to? Hello, Victor. Mother, I never was so puzzled in all my life. MRS: Morse. What is it all about, John? Can I help you? Senator Morse. This Pacific matter. Mrs. Morse. Forget foreign affairs for a moment There are problems for the Home Office. Senator Morse. What do you mean? Nothing wrong, I hope. Mrs. Morse. Merely that your only child has been asked in marriage by this young man. Senator Morse. Have you thought it over, Alice? Alice. Yes, father. Senator Morse. [To Victor.] So that's what both- ered you at The Hague? What does she say, Victor? Victor. To tell the truth, I can't remember. I didn't hear her say anything. Mrs. Morse. Alice and I are both willing. Senator Morse, Now, Mother, don't you think we're both ? The children can make it unanimous without. us. Mrs. Morse. I should say they can. Here are your adopted children — {With a meaning glance at Russell and Mary] — secretly married this long time. Senator Morse. For the love of — country! I'm cer- tainly delighted! [Senator Morse is about to indulge in the formalities of congratulations ichen his present preoc- cupation arrests him.] Say, Russell, who sent that cable? Some crazy reformer, I'll bet. Well, he settled the Pacific question and blundered Uncle Sam into glory. We've de- cided to do what the dafaned fool said. Mrs. Morse. John, dear. Russell. What do you mean? Senator Morse. We were all at the Metropolitan Club, the Secretary of State and the Party Managers, fighting about this thing. We got a telephone call from the Speaker of the House. He said a conference had 248 THE WASTREL HOARD^ decided that the best thing to do was to have Congress throw the Canal open free of tolls of the whole world, to make a virtue of a necessity, and to save our face as a nation. The only exception is we may exclude any nation entirely as an act of war. Russell. Well, that really won't cost the nation a dol- lar — even in that dollars and cents system of reckoning which the great republic shares with the individual hold- ers of its surplus wealth. Experts have worked that out. Senator Morse. Why, it's cheap as advertising I Better than our return of the indemnity millions to China. It makes us moral leaders of the world ! Mary. The centre of the Empire of the Spirit — the New Empire of the World. Russell. And it will not only brins; the Suez trade this way, but will keep England from building a compet- ing and parallel canal across Colombia. Senator Morse. Or Nicaragua. Russell. And we'll soon lay the ghost of the British shipping. The administration has a tariff preference plan that will force every foreign ship that comes here to come, at the option of a Tariff Board, under the American flag! And the American market, the greatest iu the world, is no longer to be given away, but to be used as a common national possession to induce and coerce nations into hu- manity and peace. What will Bullard's crowd say? They control Congress — a compact majority. This hold-up was to be the crowning glory of his life. Senator Morse. Well, Bullard telephoned immediate- ly afterward, and begged me to agree on that very thing. ^'It'll be all right," he said. And we did, and it's all over. Mary. Bully for you. Uncle John ! Bully for you ! Senator Morse. Mother. You ought to have been at The Hague. It was very dramatic. Mary. Mother was there — in reality. A projected per- sonality — even across the world — is often more potent than one bodily present. Don't you think so, Russell? THE WASTREL HOARD. 249 Russell. Yes. Yes. I do. I do. Mrs. Morse. The oak has fallen; the violet prevails. The gamblers are wrecked in their own system. Russell. I am sorry for Bullard. Mary. There's something yet to explain. Bullard never quits. Senator Morse. He is fond of Russell, Mary. Mary. Well — so is everybody. Senator Morse. Should you like to hear what he said? Mary. Of course. [Reminisoing.l He is so resource- ful! Senator Morse. His words were these : "I win, Sen- ator. It is my victory. This girl has done my life work for me. She's a good deal smarter than I am, and when I once see a cold, hard fact, I take off my hat to it. It'll be all right. I telephoned to Thorburn. Her way is better than my way." In token of surrender, he sends you this note. "Tell her," he said, "that I have searched the record and examined the cables both ways — and," [Senator Morse smiles] he said,— "it'll be all right. [Mary reads Bullard's note.] She has made my boy." And "Tell him I've re- nounced King Alcohol! She has made me, too!" [At the recurrence of Bullard's phrase, ''my hoy'' Mary looks at Russell, studies his features, and seems overtaken hy a sudden conviction. She speaks with some sense of the triple application of her words, hut none the less hewildered.] Mary. [Taking a step toivard the picture of ''Street Lily Earle."] He says his name should be on my certificate, too. [Russell looks at her as if to learn the application of what she is saying. Her eyes flash that she has something to tell him.] Senator Morse. [As if helieving that he understands.] 250 TEE WASTREL HOARD. Yes, indeed. "And/' said Bullard, "she has made me, too. It'll be all right." Mary. I'm sorry he lost his money. [Mary looks at EussELL.] There's something good in that man. The world has had enough of telling how bad people are ; what it needs is a little more telling why; then big and little can unite in removing the cause. Senator Morse. It'll be all right. They've been sup- porting the market to get out. EussELL. Gamblers? Always on a sure thing? And they gagged the newspapers. The public hasn't heard a word. [Mary goes up to Eussell.] Mary. {Continuing to look at Eussell.] There's something good in that man. \^She feels in the envelope and takes out the locket which Bullard has sent. She turns away, opens it, pauses a moment as if recalling a fugitive mem- ory, turns to the picture of '^Sweet Lily Earle/' then to Eussell^ gives a start as if to embrace him and collapse, hut controls herself.] Eussell. What is it? Mary. [Tc all] That is our secret. Ours — ^and Fos- ter Bullard's. Senator Morse. Well, I'd like to meet the man who Bent that cable. I'd like to shake him by the hand. He saved my political life. That seems to be the world's "dark secret" iust now ! Mary. No man ever sent that cable. Senator Morse. Oh ! A woman ! I suppose you'll an* bounce next it was Mrs. Havorbee. Mary. That cablegram was never sent. Senator Morse. What do you mean? It sent itself I suppose. Mary. Almost. Gulp is a friend of mine. I wrote i< THE WASTREL HOARD. 251 out, and he just handed it to you. You see, I was your secretary, and you handed it to yourself. Say nothing. Deny the rumor, and you are famous. Senator Morse. Well, by Jove ! I believe the future'U prove it so. "Were you the doctor and I knew you not?" Mary. Alienist I That's what I've been waiting for in Europe. I thought the Hague Tribunal would never meet. Senator Morse. I might have known it. What ever possessed you? [Mary smiles at the question.] What gi'eat motive ? - c- ' ^'^'^' Mary. One more imperious than empires or coali- tions — [Mary turns to Mrs. Morse] — one that mothers know — [Mary turns to Senator Morse] — and fathers, too. It is the commonest thing in the world, and the one most completely overlooked. Woman's love and faith and char- ity are the motives of that great, imperious impulse by which nature is trying to rule this world and perpetuate the human soul. Individual self-control and the govern- ance of the world are themselves in embryo. Purposeless, alcoholic, surrender to the great sex myth, based upon the absurd assumption that human nature is evil, or that love can be impure or ungenerous, is the world's greatest curse, and the real cause of all the other curses. Society's chil- dren seem unsought and undesired, and the one purpose of organization seems to be to kill off the whole great future in embryo. The pity of it that the higher impulse must ever be discouraged or condemned. All conscious conception is immaculate ; there is no original sin ; and what God has not imposed man should not assume. A woman's body and a man's are — their very souls ! Creation is from God and it is divine. It Is the thing and the only thing that kills wantonness and makes love pure. The higher modesty is the peculiar inheritance of our race. It is our duty to un- derstand it, respect it, make it sacred, and have it raised out of the darkness of ignorance and mystery in its true dignity as patriotic impulse and made the true basis of society, its government, and its provision for the general 252 THE WASTREL HOARD. welfare. In the little child is the hope of nations and the crowning glory of the world. It is the great thing the sexes have in common — the greatest common interest in the world, the greatest social interest and the most far-reaching — great enough to unite all humankind. A land that does not care for its children cares little for its future. That is the great lesson humanity has yet to learn and America must learn it to fulfill its mission to establish the reign of justice and redeem the world. Senator Morse. Mary, with that simple philosophy, you have done more for Russell than Bullard, with all their money, could have done. Mary. Russell did it. [Mary ZooA^s a^ Russell.] And Bullard was the original cause, after all. [Mary smiles enigmatically.] Well, the world must look up, in the fu ture, to men who watch and ward other people's — boys. Senator Morse. [As if to himself.] It was love work- ing regeneration. Mary. [With a very fond look at Russell.] It was just a woman's work — that's all. Victor. You have beaten Bullard to a frazzle. When Dewey cut the cable Alice. They gave him a house. Victor. Mary'U take the White House Senator Morse. And you have made Russell. Mary. I haven't finished yet. A woman's work is never done. I believe I'll tackle Bullard. [Mary looks very fondly at Russell.] There's a lot of good in that man. [Russell always seems to agree with Mary's praise of Bullard.] Senator Morse. He's for Russell already. I must Mary. [With an amused look at Russell.] I know that better than any of you. He might consent to lead the opposition. That would help. And I know that Bullard is capable of a great personal sacrifice. Sbnatok MoBSfi. Worse! men than Russell have occu- THE WASTREL HOARD. 253 pied the White House, Mary. That was always Bullard'a idea. Mary. [Laughing with Senator Morse and, toithout his knowing it, at him.] For his "hoy." Senator Morse. [Laughing and the victim of his own laugh on Bullard.] Yes, his "boy." Well, we'll help him. "It'll be all right." Victor. If you want a campaign fund [Mary goes up to Victor and places her right hand on his left shoulder as Victor had done to Bul- lard in the third act. Victor reciprocates.] Senator Morse. What political party do you repre- sent? I wonder! Russell. "I represent a party which does not as yet exist, the party of revolution, of civilization. This party will mold the twentieth century." Mary. High aims have but one ultimate authority, the welfare of humanity. My mind sees now a little white house for everybody in the world. [The library chime strikes twelve times.] Victor. Mine does now, with fortune knocking at least once at every man's door. Mary. And the crimes of poverty abolished. Victor. Yes, and of drunkenness and disease — and greed [The desk clock strikes twelve times, beginning 6e* tween the ninth and the tenth chime.] Mart. With their train Victor, -—of long-lived sufferings, to the innocent. Mary. And a wider view of life in which individual interests become merged with those of humanity. Victor. And for every man those moments when we catch a glimpse of God. Mary. The God above him 254 THE WASTREL HOARD. Victor. — and the God within — and feels the joys and sorrows of all peoples as of his own. Mary. Charity is Victor. — the one luxury which civilized society can well afford. Mary. A little warmth in social relations Victor. — will make the artificial warmth of alcoholic poison superfluous. Mary. Charity is justice. Victor. Both are public functions and to be effective their execution should be universal, instant, and over- whelming. Mary. We may not do much with the evil of the pres- ent generation Victor. It will perpetuate itself — unto the third and fourth generation, perhaps — when nature, in its relentless logic, brings it to an end with the breed. Mary. Most of the* present generation would have to be born, again. Victor. And born different. Eh! Mary. Quite! A new humanity is born and a new world comes into being every time the sun Victor. . — rises on our selfish provision for the present day. Mary. We pay so much attention to the past • Victor. That we appear bent on walking into the future backwarn. Mary. We and our times are unimportant and our plans for ourselves are barren and unwise. Victor. But if we work with the coming generation, the good will radiate forever. Mary. And in the children Victor. — will be carried onward the American spirit that can never die. Mary. Follies and vices of the people are Victor. — encouraged by the powers that prey. A Tirtuous race will be free. THE WAi^TREL HOARD. 255 Mary. And its lusty children, the universal solvent, will spread more health Victor. — than all the millions of our philanthropic oppressors, with their expiations, can redeem. Mary. When everyone takes the easiest way, fate piles evil upon evil — and Victor. — when one takes the bravest and the best way, fate is balked and good piles up eternally. Mary. There is no wealth but life. Victor. And a nation is composed not of property or of provinces, but of men. Mary. The vital industry of any people Victor. — is the culture of racial life. Mary. If the successful of this generation bring up their children to follow out their success Victor. — the next generation won't be fit to live among. Mary. There must be a new Declaration of Independ- ence! Victor. And a new Emancipation Proclamation! Mary. Revolutions should not be left to terrorists Victor. They should be carried out by the best and most virtuous of the race. Mary. You have learned your lesson — and mine, too. [They smile and separate.] Victor. I have tried. Mary. {Drawing out the little American flag and pointing loith it in an equivocal manner to one of the A merican flags in the decoration of the room.] One Amer- ican child brought up to be a parent under that flag is worth more than regiments of parents imported from abroad. [Victor goes up to Alice^ and Victor and Alich smile at one another.] Alice. Now, you are just as I wish you to be. 256 THE WASTREL HOARD. Victor. Mary made me — [Victor pauses, as if real- izing the danger of such an assertion^ smiles^ and corrects himself] — to your order. [Alice smiles at Victor.] Alice. Thanks for that, Victor. I'll assume I did it all. Senator Morse. [To Mary.] I told Russell you would be a tonic for him. Mary. [Going up to Mrs. Morse.] Russell shares our wholesome fear of anything too tonic. [To Mrs. Morse.] You darling ! [The clock above strikes twelve.] Mary. All these clocks, Senator! What terrible re- minders! Mercy! IB.OW striking! Alice. They've been striking about you for an hour. We are used to them and don't notice them. Mary. I didn't hear them until now. Our infinite ca- pacity for indifference ! And we see a smaller proportion of what is about us than we hear. Senator Morse. Souvenirs, Mary — only a few of them — of the Sheriff's Jury dinners — fifty dollars a plate — each of the three "Panels" — free tickets to the gang — hundreds of them — paid for by the Jurors [As Senator Morse rattles on, amusement groics, until Victor interrupts with a laugh.] Victor. Hold on, Senator. You needn't tell the rest. Mary and I are going to abolish the Sheriff's Jury, too. Eh! [Mary begins to yield to the strain of her efforts, and the woman becomes ccidcnt.] Mary. What good friends you are ! I know how intel- ligent you have been. [To Mrs. Morse.] Tou are the best-bred woman I have ever known. You have under- stood Mrs. Morse. It's because I have a good husband. [Mrs. Morse turns to the others.] I know Mary has had a great deal of trouble, more than she would care to tell THE WASTREL HOARD. 257 about. Any other girl in her place would have faded away and died. (Senator Morse. Would melt like a lighted candle. Mary. Without handing down the lamp of life? Who could snuff it out! Love doesn't let us melt away. Senator Morse. No! You can't kill character. The history of nations shows [Senator Morse and Mrs. ^Morsb join hands, face and smile at one another. Alice and Victor join hands. Then all look at Russell and Mary.] Mrs. Morse. Forget history, John. My heart told me that from the first you were meant for one another. And your faith has proved that. Russell. My brave girl. I'll take any future with you. "Good fortune's mark 's upon thy face!'' [Russell and Mary joiii hands and smile at one another.] Mary. It's all luck. I am the luckiest girl in the world. Russell. You waved fortune aside. You didn't take it Mary. I didn't know I could — not all — until The Hague. Your devotion lived on nothing; mine had every- thing a woman craves. Russell. There is no bravery but unselfishness. You gave up everything unquestioningly to spare sorrow to an- other woman. Senator Morse. 'Greater love hath no woman than this, that she give up all for another." [The chime in the hall 'below strikes twelve times with impressive intervals, the last word being spoken on the eleventh stroke, the twelfth stroke being heard as the curtain descends.] Mary. [To Russell.] Those who love think they give up everything, but misfortune brings character down to 258 THE WASTREL HOARD. bedrock and character is the greatest thing in the world. Russell, dearest, it's all your own work. Whitman was not so impractical, after all I Some give nothing, but take everything; some take nothing for themselves and give all to others. You have risen Russell. I never felt more humble. Bullard wished so much to be good to me. Mary. Russell, dear, you're great. Your fixed idea ! He wished to make '"^his hoy" what he couldn't be himself I Russell. May I kiss you now? [Flint enters quietly, comes up to Mary. She smiles at him, hut beckons to him to wait.] Mary. [With a curtsey.] Sir, I am ready to honor my father Flint. [With a suggestion of the great quotcr.] "Who will command with kindness." [Softening.] I am getting old now and / want Mary to look after me. Mary. [With a curtsey to Russell.] — and obey my husband. Just as you said, hybrid will be high-bred ! Russell. [Conscious of going Flint one better.] Who will support your ambitions, and — command with love. [Russell kisses Mary.] That's what women want. Alice. Uncle Sam, that is what children need. [To Mary.] Mary, dear! You will never know how glad / am that you are safely — married I Mary. Nor you how glad / am ! Flint. [Brings Senator Morse and Russell together, puts an arm, over the shoulder of each, and pats Russell on the shoulder.] My son! The friendship of Uncle John is the only guarantee of a man required by Uncle Sam ! Senator Morse. [Patting Flint on the back.] There do come times when Uncle Sam feels that he must lean a little on his children. [All but Russell and Mary move off to group about Flint, to explain the situation to him.] Russell. (Noting the opportunity.] I may — now I Mary. [Beticeen kisses.] Don't! — ever!! — stop!!! THE WASTREL HOARD. 259 Russell. [In a low tone, to Maey.] And the boy? The little stranger? Maey. [To Russell, in a low tone.] He's waiting for us. And he'll never leave us again. [Maey goes to Flint and kisses him, then looks at the others, ^he speaks with sudden resolution.'] I am very happy, and I wish every- body in the world to be happy, too — even Mr. BuUard. I wish we could have him with us — I just want to sing to him. Things look different to all of us, now. [To all, in a hurst of enthusiasm.] We'll all go back home together. ''Home, Sweet Home.'' That's the only "Palace of Peace." [Mary and Russell embrace. Mary goes up to Mrs. Morse and rests her head on Mrs. Morsels breast, and throtcs her arms about Mrs. Morse's neck.] Yon old- fashioned mother — you are the mainstay of the Ship of State — the Rock of Ages of the World. We're most of us old-fashioned— women — at heart. And they are the safest diplomats— the Guardians of the World's Peace — of Mind. I am glad I've found myself out. [Looking with a meaning smile at Russell.] Before it was too late. But now — well — it'll be all right. [Mrs. Morse leads the others out with manifest tact.] Russell. [Assuring himself by a glance that the others have gone.] Now that we are alone, say once more the last word of pardon. Mary, forgive me. Mary. [Fluttering to Russell's embrace.] I can't — I can't. I can only love you. [Mary throws herself into Russell^s arms. After a moment Mary draws away gent- ly, takes Russell's hands in hers, and smiles playfully.] I fear you'll often be wretched with your temperamental wife. Russell. [Teasing.] "Call not the man wretched. Who, whatever he suffers. Has a child to love." 260 THE WASTREL HOARD. Maby. [Taking refuge in BussiiLL^s arms again.\ But you have to love me, too ! BussELL. I will. That, also, will be all right. Mart. Love me for him, too. BussBLL. True woman, wife, and mother, I'll love you 843 I love my country ; I'll love you for all mankind. EPILOGUK Then, Woman, Here's to Childhood! Way to salvation, happiness, and avatar. And to humanity, heaven, and eternity, Your inheritance from all the past. So greater than the richest hoard That none with it can you afford, Lest hoard not you shall everlast. Surviving in a dead posterity, Lacklustered as a fallen star. Then, Woman, Here's to Childhood 1 CUBTAIN.