"Those bicycle cops," he said confidentially to Miss Forbes, "are too chesty."The car turned in between stone pillars, and under an arch of red and golden leaves, and swept up a long avenue to a house of innumerable roofs.It was the grandest house Mr.Schwab had ever entered, and when two young men in striped waistcoats and many brass buttons ran down the stone steps and threw open the door of the car, his heart fluttered between fear and pleasure.
Lounging before an open fire in the hall were a number of young men, who welcomed Winthrop delightedly and, to all of whom Mr.Schwab was formally presented.As he was introduced he held each by the hand and elbow and said impressively, and much to the other's embarrassment, "WHAT name, please?"Then one of the servants conducted him to a room opening on the hall, from whence he heard stifled exclamations and laughter, and some one saying "Hush." But "Izzy" Schwab did not care.The slave in brass buttons was proffering him ivory-backed hair-brushes, and obsequiously removing the dust from his coat collar.Mr.Schwab explained to him that he was not dressed for automobiling, as Mr.Winthrop had invited him quite informally.The man was most charmingly sympathetic.
And when he returned to the hall every one received him with the most genial, friendly interest.Would he play golf, or tennis, or pool, or walk over the farm, or just look on? It seemed the wish of each to be his escort.Never had he been so popular.
He said he would "just look on." And so, during the last and decisive day of the "whirlwind" campaign, while in Eighth Avenue voters were being challenged, beaten, and bribed, bonfires were burning, and "extras" were appearing every half hour, "Izzy" Schwab, the Tammany henchman, with a secret worth twenty thousand votes, sat a prisoner, in a wicker chair, with a drink and a cigar, guarded by four young men in flannels, who played tennis violently at five dollars a corner.
It was always a great day in the life of "Izzy" Schwab.After a luncheon, which, as he later informed his friends, could not have cost less than "two dollars a plate and drink all you like," Sam Forbes took him on at pool.Mr.Schwab had learned the game in the cellars of Eighth Avenue at two and a half cents a cue, and now, even in Columbus Circle he was a star.
So, before the sun had set Mr.Forbes, who at pool rather fancied himself, was seventy-five dollars poorer, and Mr.
Schwab just that much to the good.Then there followed a strange ceremony called tea, or, if you preferred it, whiskey and soda; and the tall footman bent before him with huge silver salvers laden down with flickering silver lamps, and bubbling soda bottles, and cigars, and cigarettes.
"You could have filled your pockets with twenty-five cent Havanas, and nobody would have said nothing!" declared Mr.
Schwab, and his friends who never had enjoyed his chance to study at such close quarters the truly rich, nodded enviously.
At six o'clock Mr.Schwab led Winthrop into the big library and asked for his ticket of leave.
"They'll be counting the votes soon, he begged."I can't do no harm now, and I don't mean to.I didn't see nothing, and Iwon't say nothing.But it's election night, and--and I just GOT to be on Broadway.""Right," said Winthrop, "I'll have a car take you in, and if you will accept this small check----""No!" roared "Izzy" Schwab.Afterward he wondered how he came to do it."You've give me a good time, Mr.Winthrop.You've treated me fine, all the gentlemen have treated me nice.I'm not a blackmailer, Mr.Winthrop." Mr.Schwab's voice shook slightly.
"Nonsense, Schwab, you didn't let me finish," said Winthrop, "I'm likely to need a lawyer any time; this is a retaining fee.Suppose I exceed the speed limit--I'm liable to do that----""You bet you are!" exclaimed Mr.Schwab violently.
"Well, then, I'll send for YOU, and there isn't a police magistrate, nor any of the traffic squad, you can't handle, is there?"Mr.Schwab flushed with pleasure.
"You can count on me," he vowed, "and your friends too, and the ladies," he added gallantly."If ever the ladies want to get bail, tell 'em to telephone for `Izzy' Schwab.Of course," he said reluctantly, "if it's a retaining fee----"But when he read the face of the check he exclaimed in protest."But, Mr.Winthrop, this is more than the Journal would have give me!"They put him in a car belonging to one of the other men, and all came out on the steps to wave him "good-by," and he drove magnificently into his own district, where there were over a dozen men who swore he tipped the French chauffeur a five dollar bill "just like it was a cigarette."All of election day since her arrival in Winthrop's car, Miss Forbes had kept to herself.In the morning, when the other young people were out of doors, she remained in her room, and after luncheon when they gathered round the billiard table, she sent for her cart and drove off alone.The others thought she was concerned over the possible result of the election, and did not want to disturb them by her anxiety.Winthrop, thinking the presence of Schwab embarrassed her, recalling as it did Peabody's unfortunate conduct of the morning, blamed himself for bringing Schwab to the house.But he need not have distressed himself.Miss Forbes was thinking neither of Schwab nor Peabody, nor was she worried or embarrassed.On the contrary, she was completely happy.
