A Gentleman from Mississippi | Page 6

is harder than turning the left flank of the Eighth Illinois in an enfilading fire."
But the new Senator from Mississippi did not know that for him the wars of peace had only just begun, that perhaps his own flesh and blood and that of the wife and mother who had gone before would turn traitor to his colors in the very thickest of the fray.

CHAPTER III
HOW TO PLEASE A SENATOR
The International Hotel in Washington was all hustle and bustle. Was it not preparing for its first Senator since 1885? No less a personage than the Hon. William H. Langdon of Mississippi, said to be a warm personal friend of Senator Stevens, one of the leading members of his party at the capital, had engaged a suit of rooms for himself and two daughters.
"Ain't it the limit?" remarked the chief clerk to Bud Haines, correspondent of the New York Star. "The Senator wrote us that he was coming here because his old friend, the late Senator Moseley, said back in '75 that this was the best hotel in Washington and where all the prominent men ought to stay."
Haines, the ablest political reporter in Washington, had come to the International to interview the new Senator, to describe for his paper what kind of a citizen Langdon was. He glanced around at the dingy woodwork, the worn cushions, the nicked and uneven tiles of the hotel lobby, and smiled at the clerk. "Well, if this is the new Senator's idea of princely luxury he will fit right into the senatorial atmosphere." Both laughed derisively. "By the way," added Haines, "I suppose you'll raise your rates now that you've got a Senator here."
The clerk brought his fist down on the register with a thud.
"We could have them every day if we wanted them. This fellow, though, we'll have all winter, I guess. His son's here now. Been breaking all records for drinking. Congressman Norton of Mississippi has been down here with him a few times. There young Langdon is now."
Haines turned quickly, just in time to bump into a tall, slender young man, who was walking unevenly in the direction of the café.
"Well, can't you see what you're doing?" muttered the tall young man thickly.
Haines smiled. The chap who has played halfback four years on his college eleven and held the boxing championship in his class is apt to be good-natured. He does not have to take offense easily. Besides, Randolph Langdon was plainly under the influence of whisky. So Haines smiled pleasantly at the taller young man.
"Beg your pardon--my fault," Haines said.
"Well, don't let it occur again," mumbled Langdon, as he strolled with uneven dignity toward the door. Bud Haines laughed.
"I guess young Langdon is going to be one of the boys, isn't he?"
"He's already one of them when it comes to a question of fluid capacity," laughed some one behind him, and Bud whirled to meet the gaze of his friend, Dick Gullen, representative of one of the big Chicago dailies.
"You down here to see Langdon, too?" commented Bud.
Cullen nodded. "Queer roost where this Senator is to hang out, isn't it?"
"He can't be a rich one, then," suggested Haines.
Cullen chuckled.
"Perhaps he's an honest one."
"I hadn't thought of that. You always were original, Dickie," commented Haines, dryly. "By the way, what do you know about him?"
"Nothing, except that the Evening Call printed a picture of his eldest daughter--says she's the queen daughter of the South, a famous beauty, rich planter for a father, mother left her a fortune--"
"She'll cut quite a social caper with this hotel's name on her cards, won't she?" broke in Haines, as he led Cullen to a seat to await the expected legislator, whose train was late.
"I don't know very much about him myself," said Haines. "All I've been able to discover is that Stevens said the word which elected him, and that looks bad. Great glory! When I think what a Senator of the right sort has a chance to do here in Washington--a nonpartisan, straight-out-from-the-shoulder man!" He paused to shako his head in disgust. "You know these fellows here in the Senate don't even see their chance. Why, if you and I didn't do any more to hold our jobs than they do, we'd be fired by wire the first day. They know just the old political game, that's all."
"Its a great game, though, Bud," sighed Cullen, longingly, for, like many newspaper men, he had the secret feeling that he was cut out to be a great politician.
"Sure, it's a great game, as a game," agreed Haines. "So is bridge, and stud poker, and three-card monte, and flim-flam generally. Take this new man Langdon, for instance. Chosen by Stevens, he'll probably be perfectly obedient, perfectly easy going, perfectly blind and--perfectly useless. What's wanted now is to get