CHAPTER LXXXXIV

THE NET CLOSES

Frank discussed the situation with Aleta one evening after Ruef's capture. Her friend, the Supervisor, had brought news of the alarm.

"He says no one of them will trust the other; they're afraid of Gallagher; think he'll turn State's evidence, or whatever you call it. 'Squeal,' was what he said."

"Burns and Heney must be putting on the screws," commented Frank.

"Frank," Aleta laid a hand impulsively upon his arm, "I don't suppose there's any way to save this man ... I--oh, Frank, it would be awful if he went to prison."

He stared at her. "What do you mean, Aleta?"

"I mean," she answered, "that he's done things for me ... because he loves me ... hopes to win me. He's sincere in that.... Oh, can't you see how it would hurt if--"

"If he gets caught--stealing," Frank spoke harshly. "Well, you should have thought of that before, my dear."

A touch of anger tinctured the appeal with which her eyes met his. "One doesn't always reason when the heart is sore. When one is bitter with--well--yearning."

He did not answer. He was rather startled by that look. Finally she said, more gently: "Frank, you'll help him if you can--I know." He nodded.

It was late. Aleta had to hurry to the theatre. Frank left her there and walked down Sutter street.

He turned south toward Heney's office. It was in a little house between Geary and O'Farrell, up a short flight of stairs. Above were the living quarters of Heney and his companion, half clerk, half bodyguard.

There was a light in the office, but the shades of the bay-window were tightly drawn. Frank rang the bell, which was not immediately answered. Finally the bodyguard came to the door. "Mr. Heney's very busy, very busy." He seemed tremendously excited.

"Very well," said Frank; "I'll come tomorrow."

"We'll have big news for you," the man announced. He shut the door hastily and double-locked it.

Frank decided to remain in the neighborhood. He might learn something. The morning papers had been getting the best of it recently in the way of news.

It proved a tiresome vigil. And the night was chilly. Frank began to walk briskly up and down the block. A dozen times he did this without result. Then the sudden rumble of a motor car spun him about. He saw two men hasten down the steps of Heney's office, almost leap into the car. Instantly it drove off. Frank, who followed to the corner, saw it traveling at high speed toward Fillmore street. He looked about for a motor cab in which to follow. There was none in sight. Reluctantly he turned toward home. He had been outwitted, doubtless by a watcher. But not completely. For he was morally certain that one of the men who left Heney's office was Big Jim Gallagher. That visit was significant. From his hotel Frank tried to locate the editor of his paper by telephone. He was not successful. He went to bed, disgusted, after leaving a daylight call.

It was still dark when he dressed the next morning, the previous evening's events fresh in his thought.

He had scarcely reached the street before a newsboy thrust a morning paper toward him. Frank saw that the upper half of the front page was covered with large black headlines. He snatched it, tossing the boy a "two-bit piece," and, without waiting or thinking of the change, became absorbed in the startling information it conveyed.

Sixteen out of the eighteen Supervisors had confessed to taking bribes from half a dozen corporations. Wholesale indictments would follow, it was stated, involving the heads of public service companies--men of unlimited means, national influence. Many names were more than hinted at.

Ruef, according to these confessions, had been the arch-plotter. He had received the funds that corrupted an entire city government. Gallagher had been the go-between, receiving a part of the "graft funds" to be divided among his fellow Supervisors.

Each of the crooked sixteen had been guaranteed immunity from imprisonment in consideration of their testimony.

"Well, that saves Aleta's friend, at any rate," thought Frank. He recalled his uncle's prediction that Ruef's capture would result in extraordinary revelations. But it had not been Ruef, after all, who "spilled the beans." Ruef might confess later. They would need his testimony to make the case complete.

As a matter of fact, Ruef had already begun negotiations with Langdon and Heney looking toward a confession.

* * * * *

The Grand Jury acted immediately upon the wholesale confessions of Ruef's Supervisors. They summoned before them the heads of many corporations, uncovering bribery so vast and open that they were astounded. They found that $200,000 had been paid for the trolley franchise and enormous sums for permits to raise gas rates, for telephone franchises, for prize-fight privileges and in connection with a realty transaction.

The trolley bribe funds had been carried in a shirt box to Ruef by the company's attorney. Other transactions had been more or less "covered." But all were plain enough for instant recognition. San Francisco, which had suspected Ruef and his Supervisors with the easy tolerance of a people calloused to betrayal, was aroused by the insolent audacity of these transactions. It demanded blood.

And Heney was prepared to furnish sanguine vengeance. He was after the "higher-ups," he stated. Like a passionate evangel of Mosaic law, he set out to secure it. Louis Glass, acting president of the telephone company, was indicted on a charge of felony, which made a great hallabaloo, for he was a personable man, a clubman, popular and generally esteemed.

A subtle change--the primary index of that opposition which was to develop into a stupendous force--was noted by the prosecution. Heney and Langdon had been welcomed hitherto in San Francisco's fashionable clubs. Men of wealth and standing had been wont to greet them as they lunched there, commending their course, assuring them of cooperation.

But after the telephone indictment there came a cooling of the atmosphere. Glass seemed more popular than ever. Langdon and Heney were often ignored. People failed to recognize them on the street. Even Spreckels and Phelan, despite their wealth and long established standing, suffered certain social ostracisms.

Wealthy evildoers found themselves as definitely threatened by the law as were the Supervisors. But wealth is made of sterner stuff. It did not cringe nor huddle; could not seek immunity through the confessional. Famous lawyers found themselves in high demand. From New York, where he had fought a winning fight for Harry Thaw, came Delphin Delmas. T.C. Coogan, another famous pleader, entered the lists against Heney in defense of Glass.

Meanwhile the drawing of jurors for Ruef's trial progressed, inexorably.

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