No Rules, Ridge King [the snowy day read aloud TXT] 📗

“Put bluntly, Mr. President, I simply disagree with you.”  He shook his head from side to side in a deprecating manner and held up his hand.  “I know I could be wrong, I’m only human, but I don’t believe I am.  It’s as simple as that.  I believe if Thurston was sitting where you’re sitting, the Chinese would cool off, would back down—simple as that.”

“It’s never as simple as that, Matt,” Norwalk started.  “But, I’m sorry, I didn’t really want to talk to you about my position.  I knew you could argue back,” he smiled. “I didn’t really bring you here to change your ideals, Matt. I brought you here to tempt you, to threaten you, to appeal not to your ideals or convictions, but to your sense of destiny, your ambition and your future.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to make a deal. A simple matter of horse-trading.  I want that vote of yours badly—very badly.  And I’m willing to offer you something extremely valuable for that vote.”

“How do you mean?”

“This is how I mean, Mr. Congressman-elect,” said Norwalk, narrowing his eyes.  “You know Walt Lafitte, of course.  He’s the senior senator from your state and he’s sitting outside my office right this minute with Sam Houston St. Clair.”

“While we’ve been eating sandwiches?”

Norwalk poured both of them a little more Scotch.

“Yes, while we’ve been eating sandwiches and drinking Chivas Regal. Walt’s old and he’s planning to retire at the end of his term in four years.  I talked to him this morning and he’s agreed to resign his Senate seat now.  As soon as Charlie Roebuck left you here with me, he had the switchboard connect with Lowry Smith, your governor back in Wyoming.  He’s waiting to talk to us now as we sit here. You know how Lowry feels about you. Can’t stand your guts, Matt. He’s one of my staunchest supporters among all Democratic governors.  He fought against you in the campaign hoping to get Bill Crampton reelected.”

“This is all true, but I still don’t understand.”

“I talked to Lowry this morning, too.  He’s agreed that if you resign your seat in the House, he’ll immediately appoint you to fill Walt’s seat in the Senate.  He will then appoint Bill Crampton to take his old seat in the House.  This will give St. Clair the state we need and elevate you to the Senate.  You turned thirty just,” he glanced at the open dossier in front of him, “Thanksgiving, it seems.  Constitutionally, you can sit in the Senate—by just a few days.  As you might know, you have to be thirty years old.”  He paused.

Matt just looked at him. Norwalk was glad Lamar Perryman had checked Matt’s birthday to insure this offer could be made.

“It’s all settled, Matt,” Norwalk continued. “All you have to do is say Yes.  If you think this is some sort of trick, I’ll bring in Walt and Sam. You have my word of honor that what I say will be done if you quit the House,” Norwalk said, trying to push the young man. “Walt will resign tomorrow if necessary.”

Norwalk saw the glaze in Matt’s eyes.  He’s close, he thought, he’s this close. He reached over and touched a button.

“Yes, Mr. President?”

“Send in Sam Houston St. Clair and Walter Lafitte.”

In seconds, the two men were shown in and the doors closed behind them.  Norwalk rose and Matt stood automatically, facing the two politicians who walked towards them.  Norwalk motioned to chairs and they all sat down.

“I have just told Matt our proposal.  You tell him, Walt.”

The old Republican senator had a raspy voice and spoke sharply.

“I’ve agreed to resign my seat in the Senate,” he said to Matt, “in exchange for your own resignation in the House.  “I’ve spoken to the President about this today and will do anything he suggests that will help Sam here get elected.” He grunted, sat back and crossed his legs.

Norwalk touched a button.

“Yes, Mr. President?”

“Put Lowry Smith on.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“He’s on the speaker so we can all talk to him,” he said.

“This is Lowry Smith,” a voice said out of the box.

“Thank you for waiting so patiently, Lowry.  I have with me Matt Hawkins, Sam Houston St. Clair and Walt Lafitte. We’ve discussed the proposition we’re making to Matt and I want you to tell him how you stand at your end. Go ahead, he can hear you.”

“Matt?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“I will appoint you to the Senate the minute Walt resigns if you’ll resign that seat in the House. Then I’ll appoint Bill to fill your seat. I’ve opposed you for election, but you know my positions and why I did. That’s politics, just like this. But I have no urge to keep you out of the Senate if by appointing Bill Crampton back to the House I can help St. Clair, even if it costs me my own reelection. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I understand. Does Crampton know anything about all this?”

“Not from my end,” said Smith.

“No, he doesn’t know a thing about it and won’t until the day you resign and he’s appointed,” said Norwalk.

Matt looked down at the floor.  He still had his hands folded in his lap. Everything rushed through his mind at once.  He didn’t know how to respond to the men gathered before him, all seeking, bending over backwards to pull him over, offering him a prize he hadn’t envisioned within his grasp for years—all this if he would just say “Yes.”

“I’m that important?” he said, looking up to the President.

“Yes, you are, Matt,” said Norwalk.

“If he quits today and Walt does, too, I’ll have the papers ready to put him in the Senate and Bill in the House tomorrow morning at nine o’clock sharp.”

Norwalk looked from