Hopson Hunt

Whr-r-r-o-r! Out of Washington's Connecticut Avenue one morning last week raced an automobile bearing agents of the U. S. House of Representatives. Whr-r-r-o-r! Out of Connecticut Avenue in hot pursuit sped an automobile bearing agents of the U. S. Senate. Whr-r-r-o-r! Out of Connecticut Avenue whizzed an automobile bearing Washington police officers. Speed laws were ignored while pedestrians leaped for their lives. One-- two--three, the automobiles screeched to a halt in front of the swank Shoreham Hotel. Their occupants piled out, raced up the steps. Prize of the chase was big black headlines for either Chairman O'Connor of the House Lobby Investigating Committee or Chairman Black of the Senate Lobby Investigating Committee, depending on which one's agents first thrust a subpoena into the hands of Howard Colwell ("Scarlet Pimpernel") Hopson, missing master of Associated Gas & Electric Co. (TIME, July 29, et seq.).

Chairman O'Connor had been tipped off first. In the course of some routine questioning before his committee, A. G. & E. Representative Bernard B. Robinson had revealed that only the previous night he had talked at the Shoreham with the man whom most of the U. S. Government had been hunting for three weeks.

"A chauffeur I know only as Arthur came to my room about 11 o'clock last night and told me that Hopson was in the hotel," said Witness Robinson. "When I went to his room I found Hopson lying on a couch. There was a man, a 'golf pro' named Duncan, with him. Hopson said he felt pretty good and would be ready to testify in a couple of days. . . ."

"What kind of a looking man is Hopson?" asked Chairman O'Connor, who lives at the Shoreham.

"A short, very stout, rotund, bald-headed man with a fine disposition," replied Witness Robinson. "You couldn't miss him if you ever saw a picture of him."

"And we do not intend to miss him either," growled Chairman O'Connor. "We intend to have him here in about 20 minutes."

Chairman O'Connor's agents, joined by Chairman Black's and the Washington police, swarmed over the Shoreham, rapped at doors, questioned employes. The girl at the cigar counter had sold a cigar to a short, fat man with a fine disposition. Some bellboys thought they remembered such a man. The hunters looked in the Hopson closets, bathroom, under the Hopson bed. But "Pimpernel" Hopson had vanished once more.

Then Chairman O'Connor had a hunch. In 1933, he recalled, onetime (1929-33) Secretary of War Patrick J. Hurley, attorney for A. G. & E., had finally produced Mr. Hopson for the Senate Stock Exchange investigation after Ferdinand Pecora's agents had been vainly hunting him for more than six weeks. Forthwith Chairman O'Connor sped his men off to Leesburg, Va. whence they could swoop down on Belmont, Mr. Hurley's nearby estate, take Mr. Hopson by surprise.*

When the O'Connor agents arrived they discovered that newshawks had beat them to it, were waiting to report the capture. Only thing lacking was the presence of Mr. Hopson. Host Hurley was hopping mad.

"If O'Connor said Hopson is or ever was at my home here," frothed the handsome G. O. Partisan who began life as a mule boy in an Oklahoma coal mine, "he is an unconscionable and unmitigated liar. I haven't seen the man. . . . O'Connor's brother Basil is a utilities attorney. Why don't they search his home? Basil O'Connor used to be President Roosevelt's law partner. Why don't they look in the White House for Hopson? I'm getting mighty tired of this persecution. It makes a man wonder whether this is a free country. The thought of anyone paying me to try to lobby this New Deal Congress is too funny for words. My influence with this Congress wouldn't be worth a nickel to anybody . . ." (TIME, Feb. 19, 1934).

"This whole lobby investigation," he angrily concluded, "reminds me of the firm of Baloney, Baloney, Horsefeathers & Baloney."

Undaunted by the failure of the day's efforts to find Utilitarian Hopson, beefy Chairman O'Connor set his jaw, remarked: "We are closing in on him and expect to land him very soon."

Next morning it was Chairman Black's turn at Mr. Hurley, who, erect and handsome, strutted in before the Senate investigating committee, promptly started to duck & dodge when asked how much he had received from A. G. & E. in 1933.

"Do you object to answering the question?" snapped Senator Black.

Witness Hurley was on his feet with a roar. "No! But I object to being called as just one--"

"Do you object to answering the question?"

The Hurley eyeglasses on their black ribbon quivered. "Why do you single out a Republican and don't ask any other--"

"Sit down, sir!" shouted Chairman Black. "There has been no singling out. We'll have no arguments or efforts to drag in political partisanship. You will be followed in the witness chair by Mr. Joseph Tumulty, who is a Democrat."

Bit by bit the Committee dragged out of the truculent onetime Secretary of War the fact that in the last three years his law firm had received $100,000 from A. G. & E. The last $25,000 was for services in the fight against the Public Utility Bill.

What, he was asked, had he done to earn the $25,000?

"All you gentlemen are prosecutors," roared Witness Hurley. Pressed, he explained that he had arranged for A. G. & E. representatives to be heard by the House committee considering the bill. But he had done no lobbying. "My influence with this Congress," harped he, "wouldn't be worth anybody's nickel, and I don't fool my clients."

Advising his inquisitors to read the Golden Rule, Witness Hurley gave place to Witness Tumulty. At once peace fell over the committee room. Mild and smiling, the plump, florid, grey-fringed secretary to Woodrow Wilson was quietly happy to tell the committee anything it wanted to know. Yes, he had served various utility companies "in an advisory capacity" in the fight on the Wheeler-Rayburn bill. His fees totaled $33,500. Of that, $10,000 went to his own advisers: $5,000 to New Hampshire's onetime Senator George H. Moses; $2,500 was for John Walsh, brother of Montana's late great Senator Tom Walsh. No, he had done no lobbying whatsoever. In fact, he had told his clients that regulation was inevitable, consistently urged them to cooperate with Congress instead of fighting it.

Five days later Chairman O'Connor won the Hopson Hunt when his agents flushed their plump quarry in New Jersey, hustled him to Washington to appear before the House committee.

Blandly and competently Witness Hopson rattled off facts & figures in reply to questions concerning A. G. & E.'s complicated corporate setup. Estimating its gross earnings at $100,000,000 a year, he declared it was smaller than half a dozen other utility groups. Asked Chairman O'Connor: "Is it true that you and [President] Mange own the system?"

"I don't think so. I don't think there is a word of truth in this hooey spread by Brain Trusters and theory experts that we own or control the system." But Witness Hopson admitted he and President Mange own A. G. & E.'s top holding company.

What was Mr. Hopson's income? "You're invading my privacy, guaranteed by the Constitution," he snapped. Anyway he could not remember his present income. He recalled making about $100,000 in 1922.

* Created by Thomas Lee in the 18th Century, Belmont reached Mr. Hurley by way of a mortgage foreclosure on Edward B. ("Ned") McLean, one time publisher of the Washington Post. Squire Hurley keeps hunters, several hundred Hereford steers.

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