The clock in the Temple Court tower was pointing to five minutes of five
when the senator, instead of taking the direct street to the
Inter-Mountain, as his son expected him to, turned the car aside into
the Capitol grounds and brought it to rest before the side entrance
which led to the chambers of the Supreme Court justices.
"You're still in time, Evan, boy," he intimated gently; "and I'm only
going to ask one thing of you. When you get through with Hemingway, come
around to the hotel and show your grit by taking dinner with the rest
of us. Are you man enough to do that?"
If the son hesitated, it was only for a fraction of a second. When he
answered, it was to say: "If I were going up-stairs to put a noose
around my own neck, it would be simpler and easier than the thing I've
got to do. As to your one condition--dad, I'll be with you at dinner,
and at all other times, after this thing is done. I've quit the
railroad, and I did it so that I might be free to be your son and your
lawyer when the smash comes. Can I say more?"
"You don't need to say another blessed word, son," was the sober
rejoinder; and when Evan Blount got out, the Honorable David drove away
without a backward glance for the young man who was dragging himself up
the granite steps of the Capitol entrance like a condemned criminal
going to execution.
Pages:
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372