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Updated: May 5, 2025
Hugh Paret, who wrote drafts of the resolutions and suggested privately to Mr. Leonard Dickinson that a little enthusiasm from these organizations might be helpful. Mr. Dickinson accepted the suggestion eagerly, wondering why he hadn't thought of it himself. The resolutions carried some weight with a public that did not know its right hand from its left.
Hutchins looked at his watch as does a man accustomed to live by it. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Paret, I have something important to attend to. Perhaps Mr. Paret would like to look about the grounds?" He addressed his daughter. I said I should be delighted, though I had no idea what grounds were meant.
A sense of importance sustained me; and I remember in that first flush of a success for which I had not waited too long what a secret satisfaction it was to pick up the Era and see my name embedded in certain dignified notices of board meetings, transactions of weight, or cases known to the initiated as significant. "Mr. Scherer's interests were taken care of by Mr. Hugh Paret."
Paret, the Breck's physician and friend; the Durretts and the Hambletons, iron-masters; the Hollisters, Sherwins, the McAlerys and Ewanses, Breck connections, the Willetts and Ogilvys; in short, everyone of importance in the days between the 'thirties and the Civil War.
Just as soon as this is introduced we'll have Gates and Armstrong down here they're the Ribblevale attorneys, aren't they? I thought so, and the best legal talent they can hire. And they'll round up all the disgruntled fellows, you know, that ain't friendly to the Railroad. We've got to do it quick, Mr. Paret. Gorse gave you a letter to the Governor, didn't he?" "Yes," I said. "Well, come along.
"What became of it?" "You ought to know." "What do you mean?" "Just what I say, Paret," he answered slowly. "You ought to know, if anyone knows." I considered this a moment, more soberly. I thought I might have counted on my fingers the number of men cognizant of my connection with the case. I decided that he was guessing. "I think you should explain that," I told him.
"That's all right, Mr. Paret. Of course I don't want to question your judgment, sir. And you say he's a friend of yours." "I said I knew him at college." "But you will pardon me," the Colonel went on, "when I tell you that I've had some experience with that breed, and I have yet to see one of 'em you couldn't come to terms with in some way in some way," he added, significantly.
He dismissed the stenographer by the wave of a hand which seemed to thrust her bodily out of the room. "Hello, Miller," said Mr. Watling. "Hello, Theodore," replied Mr. Gorse. "This is Paret, of my office." "I know," said Mr. Gorse, and nodded toward me. I was impressed by the felicity with which a cartoonist of the Pilot had once caricatured him by the use of curved lines.
"We often imagine so; but distrust the animism of your dear Horace. You know that there is no middle course with it: 'nisi paret, imperat'." "I know it, but in the family of which we were speaking there is no danger for my heart." "I am glad of it, because in that case it will be all the easier for you to abstain from frequent visits. Remember that I shall trust you."
He rose courteously and gave me his hand, and a glance that is unforgettable. "It is good of you to come, Mr. Paret," he said simply, as though his summons had not been a command. "Perhaps you know some of these gentlemen." One of them was our United States Senator, Theodore Watling. He, as it turned out, had been summoned from Washington.
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