Etext scanned by Aaron Cannon of Paradise, California





The Frame Up

by Richard Harding Davis


When the voice over the telephone promised to name the man who
killed Hermann Banf, District Attorney Wharton was up- town
lunching at Delmonico's. This was contrary to his custom and a
concession to Hamilton Cutler, his distinguished brother-in-law.
That gentleman was interested in a State constabulary bill and had
asked State Senator Bissell to father it. He had suggested to the
senator that, in the legal points involved in the bill, his
brother-in-law would undoubtedly be charmed to advise him. So that
morning, to talk it over, Bissell had come from Albany and, as he
was forced to return the same afternoon, had asked Wharton to lunch
with him up-town near the station.

That in public life there breathed a man with soul so dead who,
were he offered a chance to serve Hamilton Cutler, would not jump
at the chance was outside the experience of the county chairman.
And in so judging his fellow men, with the exception of one man,
the senator was right. The one man was Hamilton Cutler's
brother-in-law.

In the national affairs of his party Hamilton Cutler was one of the
four leaders. In two cabinets he had held office. At a foreign
court as an ambassador his dinners, of which the diplomatic corps
still spoke with emotion, had upheld the dignity of ninety million
Americans. He was rich. The history of his family was the history
of the State. When the Albany boats drew abreast of the old Cutler
mansion on the cast bank of the Hudson the passengers pointed at it
with deference. Even when the search lights pointed at it, it was
with deference. And on Fifth Avenue, as the "Seeing New York" car
passed his town house it slowed respectfully to half speed. When,
apparently for no other reason than that she was good and
beautiful, he had married the sister of a then unknown up State
lawyer, every one felt Hamilton Cutler had made his first mistake.
But, like every thing else into which he entered, for him matrimony
also was a success. The prettiest girl in Utica showed herself
worthy of her distinguished husband. She had given him children as
beautiful as herself; as what Washington calls " a cabinet lady "
she had kept her name out of the newspapers; as Madame
L'Ambassatrice she had put archduchesses at their ease; and after
ten years she was an adoring wife, a devoted mother, and a proud
woman. Her pride was in believing that for every joy she knew she
was indebted entirely to her husband. To owe everything to him, to
feel that through him the blessings flowed, was her ideal of
happiness.

In this ideal her brother did not share. Her delight in a sense of
obligation left him quite cold. No one better than himself knew
that his rapid-fire rise in public favor was due to his own
exertions, to the fact that he had worked very hard, had been
independent, had kept his hands clean, and had worn no man's
collar. Other people believed he owed his advancement to his
brother-in-law. He knew they believed that, and it hurt him. When,
at the annual dinner of the Amen Corner, they burlesqued him as
singing to "Ham" Cutler, "You made me what I am to-day, I hope
you're satisfied," he found that to laugh with the others was
something of an effort. His was a difficult position. He was a
party man; he had always worked inside the organization. The fact
that whenever he ran for an elective office the reformers indorsed
him and the best elements in the opposition parties voted for him
did not shake his loyalty to his own people. And to Hamilton
Cutler, as one of his party leaders, as one of the bosses of the
"invisible government," he was willing to defer. But while he could
give allegiance to his party leaders, and from them was willing to
receive the rewards of office, from a rich brother-in-law he was
not at all willing to accept anything. Still less was he willing
that of the credit he deserved for years of hard work for the
party, of self-denial, and of efficient public service the rich
brother-in-law, should rob him.