“You are sure you went into it thoroughly, Norman?” he demanded of his lieutenant, when the latter returned from a personal reconnaissance of the field.  “The break they are making at us seems almost too rank to be taken at its face value.”

“Oh, yes; I dug it up from the bottom,” said the henchman.  “It’s rotten and riotous.  The political machine runs the town, and the bosses own the machine.  So much to this one, so much to that, so much to half a dozen others, and we get the contract.  Otherwise, most emphatically nit.”

“That comes straight, does it?”

“As straight as a shot out of a gun.  They got together on it, eight of the big bosses, called me in and told me flat-footed what we had to do,” said the salesman.  “Oh, I tell you, those fellows are on to their job.”

“No chance to go behind the returns and stir up popular indignation, as we did in Indiana?” suggested Tom.

“No show on top of earth.  The ring owns or controls two of the dailies, and has the other two scared.  Besides, they’ve just had their municipal election.”

The Gordon-and-Gordon manager was absently jabbing holes in the desk blotter with the paper-knife.

“Well, we can do what we have to, I suppose,” he said, after a hesitant pause.  “Say nothing to my father, but make your arrangements to take the train for the North again to-night.  I’ll meet you in town at the Marlboro at four o’clock.”

To prepare for the new exigency, Tom took the afternoon local for South Tredegar.  The lump sum required for the bribery was considerably in excess of his balance in bank.  Notwithstanding the stringency of the times, he made sure he could borrow; but it was in some vague hope that the moral chasm might be widened to impassibility, or decently bridged for him, that he was moved to state the case in detail to President Henniker of the Iron City National.  Mr. Vancourt Henniker could dig ditches, on occasion, making them too vast for the boldest borrower to cross; but Tom’s credit was gilt-edged, and in the present instance the president chose rather to build bridges.

“We have to shut our eyes to a good many disagreeable things in business, Mr. Gordon,” he said, genially didactic.  “Our problem in this day and generation is so to draw the line of distinction that these necessary concessions to human frailty will not debauch us; may be made without prejudice to that high sense of personal honor and integrity which must be the corner-stone of any successful business career.  This state of affairs which you describe is deplorable—­most deplorable; but—­well, we may think of such obstacles as we do of toll-gates on the highway.  The road is a public utility, and it should be free; but we pay the toll, under protest, and pass on.”

Mr. Henniker was a large man, benign and full-favored, not to say unctuous; and his manner in delivering an opinion was blandly impressive, and convincing to many.  Yet Tom was not convinced.