Talley turned to Eaton. “That’s a point, Arthur.”
Eaton wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Too weak. I think it is doubtful if you can overturn an Act of Succession on a minor semantic issue.”
“We shall see,” said Casper Wine. “But let us suppose-uh-suppose you are found to be right, Mr. Secretary. Next, we come to a stronger challenge. The Constitution states plainly that the successor shall-uh-shall-and I emphasize this-shall ‘act as President’ until ‘a President shall be elected.’ In short, Senator Dilman may act as President, in an honorary custodial sense as he acted as chairman in the Senate, until a special election is held across the country to give us a new and legal President for four more years.”
Once more, Eaton was shaking his head. “I don’t see that. In the recent past, eight Vice-Presidents succeeded eight dead Presidents, and they did not act as Presidents, they performed as Presidents.”
“True, but they performed unconstitutionally,” persisted Wine. “The first mistake was made when William Harrison passed away in 1841. The Cabinet informed and addressed his successor, John Tyler, as Vice-President of the United States, Acting President, which was correct. Tyler, wishing the power, honors, and title of full President, ignored-uh-ignored the Cabinet, and made himself full President and spoke-uh-spoke of his ‘accession to the Presidency,’ despite protests of many senators. Other successors merely followed his high-handed illegal custom. Almost all-uh-all of these successors have been challenged in the press. Harry Truman and Lyndon Johnson were so challenged. But nothing more happened.”
Zeke Miller jumped into view, and stood over Eaton. “This time, Mr. Secretary, we’re seeing to it something happens. We’re abiding by our beloved Constitution. If Dilman is not an officer, he is not eligible for the Presidency. If he is an officer, then he is eligible to act as President only until we can have a special election in this country to vote for a legal President-hopefully, Mr. Secretary, yourself.”
Eaton stood up. “Forget about me. I am not the issue.”
“You are the issue,” said Miller excitedly. “Six former Secretaries of State have become Presidents, but no President pro tempore of the Senate ever did. You are our best candidate.”
“Congressman Miller,” said Eaton wearily, “you can have no candidate for another year and five months, because you have a President… Mr. Wine, I appreciate your legal briefing. I can have no part of it. I will not deter you or the Congressman from presenting your findings before the House Judiciary. I can only remark that I must serve President Dilman until I am told not to do so.”
Congressman Zeke Miller began to grin. “Fair enough, fair enough. You let us carry the ball, and you stand by. Believe me, Mr. Secretary, you won’t regret it.” He sought his briefcase, and signaled Casper Wine to his feet. He paused before Talley. “I’m looking out for all of us, Governor. I am all-fired determined, by legal means which exist, to prevent that there Dilman from selling out our heritage to that parcel of black terrorists in the Turnerite gang and to those whining hymn singers in the Crispus Society and NAACP. You can tell Dilman he can play President for a couple days, but you better also tell him not to go to the expense of moving into the White House.” He winked. “I like that old House, I like the color it is right now.”
After Miller and Wine had gone, the clatter of their footsteps on the tile corridor quickly receding, the Fish Room was silent. Eaton and Talley did not look at one another. Eaton occupied himself inserting a cigarette into his silver holder and lighting it. When he had taken several puffs, he met Talley’s gaze.
“I do not like that man, I do not like him at all,” Eaton said.
“He’s a nasty customer, no question. You’d think he’d know better. But I understand his kind. I’ve been through his state with T. C., and there are loads of Millers down there. When you’ve seen that, you can know how he feels about having Dilman in here.”
“Wayne, you must believe me, I have nothing against Dilman because he is black. I simply have no prejudices about color.”
“Neither have I,” said Talley hastily.
Speaking more to himself than to Talley, Eaton went on. “I could never be on Miller’s side or Hankins’ side or anyone’s for such a reason. In fact, I would feel an obligation to defend President Dilman against such attacks.” He considered what he would say next. “I could find myself resisting Dilman, and being unwillingly thrown in with the Miller crowd, for only two reasons. If Dilman were, indeed, to perform as a Negro President instead of the President of the entire nation, if he were to show favoritism to men of his race to the detriment of the country as a whole, I would have to oppose him. And if he were to fall under the wrong influence, jettison T. C.’s program and T. C.’s team, I would have to fight him.” Then he added, “I do not anticipate either of these problems arising.”
“Well, up on the senior side of the Hill there’s a little more concern, Arthur,” said Talley. “Senator Hankins feels that the only way to preserve T. C.’s program is to preserve his Cabinet. They’ve been trying to figure out a way of curbing Dilman’s power of removal.”
“Yes, I guess I heard something of that last night.”
“They’re worried about Dilman moving in, feeling his oats after a bit, and then firing you and replacing you with a Negro friend or some white liberal who will toady to him. They’re worried this would not only end T. C.’s program but weaken the rightful line of succession.”
Eaton pursed his lips. “I believe that they are building straw men to knock down.”
“They want to play it safe, Arthur. As long as you’re around, they feel there is someone to oversee Dilman, make sure he speaks T. C.’s language and signs bills with T. C.’s pen. Then, too, they’re all feeling a little fatalistic-with good reason-and they want to make sure that if anything happens to Dilman, you’ll be around to succeed him, you and not someone, Negro or white, who does not represent the Party’s platform.”
“Yes, I see,” said Eaton thoughtfully. “Whatever they do, they had better make sure it is within the limitations imposed by the Constitution.”
“I’m curious to know exactly what they’re up to,” Talley said. “We know what Miller and his House boys are doing, but I keep wondering about Senator Hankins. I think I’ll give him a ring.” He started for the telephone, but hesitated when he reached it. “No, I don’t think I want to talk to Hankins. That’ll be Miller all over again.” He snapped his fingers. “I know-” He lifted the receiver and dialed one digit. “Edna? This is Governor Talley. Be a good girl and hook me up with Senator Hoyt Watson. He’s probably still at home… Yes, I’ll wait.”
Across the room Arthur Eaton waited, too. When he heard Talley get his connection and begin to question Senator Watson, he ejected his cigarette butt from the holder and replaced it with a fresh cigarette. It was the first time in a decade, to his surprise, that he had found it necessary to chain-smoke.