It's not a very pleasant task for me to tell
you," the younger man went on, ignoring the chair to which the
long-stemmed pipe was still pointing. "A short time ago--yesterday, to
be exact--evidence, legal evidence, of corruption and false registration
in four of the city wards, and in a number of outlying districts in the
State, was put into my hands. This evidence incriminates a group of
ringleaders and a still larger number of election officers. You know
what I've got to do with it."
The older man nodded slowly.
"Yes, I reckon I know, son; and I'm not saying a word. If you weren't a
Blount, I might ask if you haven't learned that one of the first rules
in the book of politics is the one that says we mustn't hang the dirty
clothes out where everybody can see 'em, but I know better than to say
anything like that to you."
The young man's heart sank within him. It seemed evident that his father
was still unsuspecting, still unconscious of the dreadful consequences
to himself. Only utter frankness could avail now.
"I can't discuss the question of expediency with you," he said hastily,
"any further than to say that I'd cheerfully give ten years of my life
to be able to consider it. Let me be perfectly plain: This evidence I am
speaking of involves you personally. If the papers are put into Judge
Hemingway's hands there will be a searching investigation, prompt
indictments, criminal proceedings, and all the disgrace that the widest
publicity can bring upon the men who are responsible for the present
desperate state of affairs.
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