What an end to his career!  To have struggled and achieved for half a century, to have built up a reputation year by year, as a man builds a house brick by brick, only to see the whole crumble to his feet like dust!  To have gained the respect of the country, to have made a name as the most incorruptible of public servants and now to be branded as a common bribe taker!  Could he be dreaming?  It was too incredible!  What would his daughter say—­his Shirley?  Ah, the thought of the expression of incredulity and wonder on her face when she heard the news cut him to the heart like a knife thrust.  Yet, he mused, her very unwillingness to believe it should really be his consolation.  Ah, his wife and his child—­they knew he had been innocent of wrong doing.  The very idea was ridiculous.  At most he had been careless.  Yes, he was certainly to blame.  He ought to have seen the trap so carefully prepared and into which he had walked as if blindfolded.  That extra $50,000 worth of stock, on which he had never received a cent interest, had been the decoy in a carefully thought out plot.  They, the plotters, well knew how ignorant he was of financial matters and he had been an easy victim.  Who would believe his story that the stock had been sent to him with a plausibly-worded letter to the effect that it represented a bonus on his own investment?  Now he came to think of it, calmly and reasonably, he would not believe it himself.  As usual, he had mislaid or destroyed the secretary’s letter and there was only his word against the company’s books to substantiate what would appear a most improbable if not impossible occurrence.

It was his conviction of his own good faith that made his present dilemma all the more cruel.  Had he really been a grafter, had he really taken the stock as a bribe he would not care so much, for then he would have foreseen and discounted the chances of exposure.  Yes, there was no doubt possible.  He was the victim of a conspiracy, there was an organized plot to ruin him, to get him out of the way.  The “interests” feared him, resented his judicial decisions and they had halted at nothing to accomplish their purpose.  How could he fight them back, what could he do to protect himself?  He had no proofs of a conspiracy, his enemies worked in the dark, there was no way in which he could reach them or know who they were.

He thought of John Burkett Ryder.  Ah, he remembered now.  Ryder was the man who had recommended the investment in Alaskan stock.  Of course, why did he not think of it before?  He recollected that at the time he had been puzzled at receiving so much stock and he had mentioned it to Ryder, adding that the secretary had told him it was customary.  Oh, why had he not kept the secretary’s letter?  But Ryder would certainly remember it.  He probably still had his two letters in which he spoke of making the investment.  If those letters could be produced at the Congressional inquiry they would clear him