Despeaux took a peep at his watch.
"Time slipped by while we were waiting to get at Corson. Daunt has had half an hour for laying down the law to Morrison. And Daunt can do a whole lot of business in half an hour."
"He'll only stir up Morrison's infernal scrapping spirit by laying down the law," objected Blanchard, sourly.
Despeaux took both of the millman's coat lapels in his clutch. "He'll lay down in front of Morrison the prospect of the profits to be made by the deal that is proposed. And if you had ever heard Silas Daunt talk profits as a promoter you would reckon just as I'm reckoning, Blanchard—to see our Scotch friend come out of that conference walking like the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo, instead of bobbing around astraddle of that damnation hobby-goat of his! Daunt can talk money in the same tone that a Holy Roller revivalist talks religion, Blanchard! And he makes converts, he sure does!"
A moment later the mayor of Marion strode across the reception-hall.
Lawyer Despeaux, giving critical attention, was not ready to affirm that Morrison's gait was that of a man who had broken a bank. But the manner in which he marched, shoulders back and chin up, and the dabs of color on his cheeks, would have suggested to a particularly observant person that the mayor had broken something. He pushed past those who addressed him and went on toward the ballroom, staring straight ahead; the music was pulsing in the ballroom; he seemed to be thoroughly entranced by the strains; at any rate, he was attending strictly to the business of going somewhere! He passed Senator Corson, who was returning to the reception-hall; the mayor gave his host only a nod.
While the Senator stood and gazed at the precipitate young man, BankerDaunt, following on Morrison's trail, arrived in front of Corson.
Lawyer Despeaux stepped from the window embrasure to get a good view and was not at all reassured by Daunt's looks. The banker displayed none of the symptoms of a victor. There was more of choler than complacency in his air. He hooked his arm inside the Senator's elbow and they went away together.
"Blanchard," said the lawyer, after a period of pondering, "that infernal Scotch idiot says that he isn't interested in politics and now he seems to have put promoting in the same class. Our hope is that he's interested in something else. Suppose we stroll along and see just how much interested he is."
By the time they reached the ballroom Morrison was waltzing with Lana.
He was distinctly another person from that tense, saturnine, defiant, brusk person who strode through the reception-hall. He was radiantly and boyishly happy. He was clasping the girl tenderly. He directed her steps in a small circle outside the throng of dancers, and waltzed as slowly as the tempo would allow. He was talking earnestly.
"Look at him! There you have it!" whispered Despeaux, recovering his confidence. "Every man has his price—but it's a mistake to think that the price must always be counted down in cash. Daunt didn't act as if he had captured our friend. He's dancing to a girl's tune now. Corson will whistle a jig when he gets ready and Morrison will dance to that tune, too!"
In the privacy of Senator Corson's study Mr. Daunt had allowed himself to raise his voice and express some decided opinions by the way of venting his emotions.
In his heat he disregarded the amenities that should govern a guest in the presence of his host. In fact, Mr. Daunt asserted that the host was partly responsible for the awkward position in which Mr. Daunt found himself.
The Senator, whenever he was able to make himself heard, put in protesting "buts." Mr. Daunt, riding his grievance wildly, hurdled every "but" and kept right on. "Confound it, Corson, I accepted him as your friend, as your guest, as a gentleman under the roof of a mutual friend. Most of all, I accepted him as a safe and sane business man. I talked to him as I would to the gentlemen who put their feet under my table. I know how to be cautious in the case of men I meet in places of business. But you bring this man to your house and you put me next to him with the assurance that he is all right—and I go ahead with him on that basis. I was perfectly and entirely honest with him. I disregarded all the rules that govern me in ordinary business offices," the banker added, too excited to appreciate the grim humor flashed by the flint and the steel of his last, juxtaposed sentences.
"You say you told him all your plans in full?" suggested Corson, referring to the outburst with which Daunt began his arraignment of the situation.
"Of course I told him! You gave me no warning. I dealt with him, gentleman with gentleman, under your roof!"
"I didn't think it was necessary to counsel a man like you about the ordinary prudence required in all business matters."
"I had his word in his own office that he was heartily with me. You told me he was as square as a brick when it came to his word. I went on that basis, Corson!"
"I'm sorry," admitted the Senator. "I thought I knew Stewart through and through. But I haven't been keeping in touch as closely as I ought. I have heard things this evening—" He hesitated.
"You have heard things—and still you allowed me to go on and empty my basket in front of him?"
"I heard 'em only after you were closeted here with him, Daunt. And I can't believe it's as bad as it has been represented to me. And even as it stands, I think I know how to handle him. I have already taken steps to that end."
"How?"
"Please accept my say-so for the time being, Daunt! It isn't a matter to be canvassed between us."
"I suppose you learn that sort of reticence in politics, even in the case of a friend, Corson," growled the banker. "I wish I had taken a few lessons from you before talking with one of your friends this evening."
"Was it necessary for you to do so much talking before you got a line on his opinions?"
"Confound it, Corson, with that face of his—with that candor in his countenance—he looks as good and reliable as a certified check—and in addition I had your indorsement of him."
"I felt that I had a right to indorse him." The Senator showed spirit."Daunt, I don't like to hear you condemn Stewart Morrison so utterly."
"Not utterly! He has qualities of excellence! For instance, he's a damnation fine listener," stated the disgusted banker.
"But he couldn't have thrown down your whole proposition—he couldn't have done that, after the prospects you held out to him, as you outlined them to me when we first discussed the matter," Corson insisted. "Morrison has a good business head on him. He comes of business stock. He has made a big success of his mill. He must be on the watch for more opportunities. All of us are."
"Well, here was the offer I made to him, seeing that he is afriendof yours," said Banker Daunt, dilating his nostrils when he dwelt on the word "friend." "I offered to double his own appraisal of his properties when we pay him in the preferred stock of the consolidation. I told him that he would receive, like the others, an equal amount of common stock for a bonus. I assured him that we would be able to pay dividends on the common. And he asked me particularly if I was certain that dividends would be paid on the common. I gave him that assurance as a financier who knows his card." Daunt had been attempting to curb his passion and talk in a business man's tone while on the matter of figures. But he abandoned the struggle to keep calm. He cracked his knuckles on the table and shouted: "But do you know—can you imagine what he said after I had twice assured him as to those dividends on common, replying to his repeated questions? Can you?"
"No," admitted Corson, having reason to be considerably uncertain in regard to Stewart Morrison's newly developed notions about affairs in general.
"He told me I ought to be ashamed of myself—then he pulled out his watch and apologized for monopolizing me so long on a gay evening, hoped I was enjoying it, and said he must hurry away and dance with Miss Corson. What did he mean by saying that I ought to be ashamed of myself? What did he mean by that gratuitous insult to a man who had made him a generous proposition in straight business—to a guest under your roof, Senator Corson?"
"By gad! I'll find out what it means!" snapped the Senator, pricked in his pride and in his sense of responsibility as a go-between. He pushed a button in the row on his study table. "This new job as mayor seems to be playing some sort of a devil's trick with Stewart. I'll admit, Daunt, that I didn't relish some of the priggish preachment on politics mouthed by him in his office when we were there. But I didn't pay much attention—any more than I did to his exaggerated flourish in the way he attended to city business. The new brooms! You know!"
"Yes, I know!" The banker was sardonic. "I could overlook his display of importance when he neglected gentlemen in order to parade his tuppenny mayor's business. I paid no attention to his vaporings on the water question. I've heard plenty of franchise-owners talk that way for effect! He's an especially avaricious Scot, isn't he? Confound him! How much more shall I offer him?"
"I'll admit that Stewart seems to be different these days in some respects, but unless he has made a clean change of all his nature in this shift of some of his ideas, you'd better not offer him any more!" warned the Senator. "I never detected any 'For Sale' sign on him!"
The Senator's secretary stepped into the study.
"Find Mayor Morrison in the ballroom and tell him I want to see him here."
"Corson, you're a United States Senator," proceeded the banker when the man had departed, "and your position enables you to take a broad view of business in general. But naturally you're for your own state first of all."
"Certainly! Loyally so!"
"I think you thoroughly understand my play for consolidated development of the water-power here. Every single unit should be put at work for the good of the country. Isn't that so?"
"Yes, decidedly."
"To set up such arbitrary boundaries as state lines in these matters of development is a narrow and selfish policy," insisted Daunt. "It would be like the coal states refusing to sell their surplus to the country at large. If this Morrison proposes to play the bigoted demagogue in the matter, exciting the people to attempt impractical control that will paralyze the whole proposition, he must be stepped on. You can show due regard for the honor and the prosperity of your own state, but as a statesman, working for the general welfare of the country at large, you've got to take a broader view than his."
"I do. I can make Stewart understand."
Daunt paced up and down the room, easing his turgid neck against a damp collar. The Senator pondered.
The secretary, after a time, tapped and entered.
"Mayor Morrison is not in the ballroom, sir. And I could not find him."
"You should have inquired of Miss Corson."
"I could not find Miss Corson."
The Senator started for the door. He turned and went back to Daunt. "It's all right! I gave her a bit of a commission. It's in regard to Morrison. She seems to be attending to it faithfully. Be easy! I'll bring him."
The father went straight to the library. He knew the resources of his own mansion in the matter of nooks for a tete-a-tete interview; now he was particularly assisted by remembrance of Stewart's habits in the old days. He found his daughter and the mayor of Marion cozily ensconced among the cushions of a deep window-seat.
Stewart was listening intently to the girl, his chin on his knuckles, his elbow propped on his knee. His forehead was puckered; he was gazing at her with intent seriousness.
"Senator Corson," warned the girl, "we are in executive session."
"I see! I understand! But I need Stewart urgently for a few moments."
"I surrendered him willingly a little while ago. But this conference must not be interrupted, sir!"
"Certainly not, Senator Corson!" asserted Stewart, with a decisive snap in his tone. "We have a great deal of ground to go over."
"I'll allow you plenty of time—but a little later. There is a small matter to be set straight. 'Twill take but a few moments."
"It's undoubtedly either business or politics, sir," declared Lana, with a fine assumption of parliamentary dignity. "But I have the floor for concerns of my own, and I'll not cede any of my time."
"It is hardly business or politics," returned the Senator, gravely. "It concerns a matter of courtesy between guests in my home, and I'm anxious to have the thing straightened out at once. I beg of you, Stewart!"
The mayor rose promptly.
"I suppose I must consider it a question of privilege and yield," consented Lana, still carrying on her little play of procedure. "But do I have your solemn promise, Senator Corson, that this gentleman will be returned to me by you at the earliest possible moment?"
"I promise."
"And I want your promise that you will hurry back," said the girl, addressing Stewart. "I'll wait right here!"
"But, Lana, remember your duties to our guests," protested her father.
"I have been fulfilling them ever since the reception-line was formed." She waved her hand to draw their attention to the distant music. "The guests are having a gorgeous time all by themselves. I'll be waiting here," she warned. "Remember, please, both of you that I am waiting. That ought to hurry your settlement of that other matter you speak of."
"I'll waste no time!" Morrison assured her. He marched away with theSenator.
In the study Corson took his stand between his two guests. Daunt was bristling; Morrison displayed no emotion of any sort.
"Mr. Daunt, I think you'd better state your grievance, as you feel it, so that Mr. Morrison can assure both of us that it arises from a misunderstanding."
The banker took advantage of that opportunity with great alacrity. "Now that Senator Corson is present—now that we have a broad-minded referee, Mr. Morrison, I propose to go over that matter of business."
"Exactly on the same lines?" inquired Stewart, mildly.
"Exactly! And for obvious reasons—so that Corson may understand just how much your attitude hurt my feelings."
"Pardon me, Mr. Daunt. I have no time to listen to the repetition. It will gain you nothing from me. My mind remains the same. And Miss Corson is waiting for me. I have promised to return to her as soon as possible."
"But it will take only a little while to go over the matter," pleadedCorson.
"It will be time wasted on a repetition, sir. I have no right to keep MissCorson waiting, on such an excuse."
"You give me an almighty poor excuse for unmannerly treatment of my business, Morrison," Daunt stated, with increasing ire.
"I really must agree in that," chided the Senator.
"Sir, you gave your daughter the same promise for yourself," declaredStewart.
"Now let's not be silly, Stewart. Lana was playing! You can go right on with her from where you left off."
"Perhaps!" admitted the mayor. "I hope so, at any rate. But I don't propose to break my promise." He added in his own mind that he did not intend to allow a certain topic between him and Lana Corson to get cold while he was being bullyragged by two elderly gentlemen in that study.
"By the gods! you'll have to talk turkey to me on one point!" asserted Daunt, his veneer of dignity cracking wide and showing the coarser grain of his nature. "I made you a square business proposition and you insulted me—under the roof of a gentleman who had vouched for both of us."
"Thank you! Now we are not retracing our steps, as you threatened to do. We go on from where we left off. Therefore, I can give you a few moments, sir. What insult did I offer you?"
"You told me that I ought to be ashamed of myself."
"That was not an insult, Mr. Daunt. I intended it to be merely a frank expression of opinion. Just a moment, please!" he urged, breaking in on violent language. He brought his thumb and forefinger together to make a circle and poised his hand over his head. "I don't wear one of these. I have no right to wear one. Halo, I mean! I'm no prig or preacher—at least, I don't mean to be. But when I talk business I intend to talk it straight and use few words—and those words may sound rather blunt, sometimes. Just a moment, I say!"
He leaned over the table and struck a resounding blow on it with his knuckles. "This is a nutshell proposition and we'll keep it in small compass. You gave me a layout of your proposed stock issue. No matter what has been done by the best of big financiers, no matter what is being done or what is proposed to be done, in this particular case your consolidation means that you've got to mulct the people to pay unreasonably high charges on stock. It isn't a square deal. My property was developed on real money. I know what it pays and ought to pay. I won't put it into a scheme that will oblige every consumer of electricity to help pay dividends on imaginary money. And if you're seriously attempting to put over any consolidation of that sort on our people, Mr. Daunt, I repeat that you ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"And now you have heard him with your own ears," clamored the banker."What do you say to that, Mr. Corson?"
"All capitalization entails a fair compromise—values to be considered in the light of new development," said the Senator. "Let's discuss the proposition, Stewart."
"Discussion will only snarl us up. I'm stating the principle. You can't compromise principle! I refuse to discuss."
"Have you gone crazy over this protection-of-the-people idea?" demandedCorson, with heat.
"Maybe so! I'm not sure. I may be a little muddled. But I see a principle ahead and I'm going straight at it, even though I may tread on some toes. I believe that the opinion doesn't hold good, any longer, as a matter of right, that because a man has secured a franchise, and his charter permits him to build a dam across a river or the mouth of a lake, he is thereby entitled to all the power and control and profit he can get from that river or lake without return in direct payment on that power to the people of the state. We know it's by constitutional law that the people own the river and the lake. I'm putting in a report on this whole matter to the incoming legislature, Senator Corson."
"Good Heavens! Morrison, you're not advocating the soviet doctrine that the state can break existing contracts, are you?" shouted the Senator.
"I take the stand that charters do not grant the right for operators of water-power to charge anything their greed prompts 'em to charge on ballooned stock. I assert that charters are fractured when operators flagrantly abuse the public that way! I'm going to propose a legislative bill that will oblige water-power corporations to submit in public reports our state engineers' figures on actual honest profit-earning valuation; to publish complete lists of all the men who own stock so that we may know the interests and the persons who are secretly behind the corporations."
Corson displayed instant perturbation.
"Such publication can be twisted to injure honest investors. It can be used politically by a man's enemies. Stewart, I am heavily interested financially in Daunt's syndicate, because I believe in developing our grand old state. I bring this personal matter to your attention so that you may see how this general windmill-tilting is going to affect your friends."
"I'm for our state, too, sir! And I'll mention a personal matter that's close to me, seeing that you have broached the subject. St. Ronan's mill is responsible for more than two hundred good homes in the city of Marion, built, owned, and occupied by our workers. And in order to clean up a million profit for myself, I don't propose to go into a syndicate that may decide to ship power out of this state and empty those homes."
"You are leaping at insane conclusions," roared Daunt. He shook his finger under Morrison's nose.
"I'll admit that I have arrived at some rather extreme conclusions, sir," admitted Stewart, putting his threatened nose a little nearer Daunt's finger. "I based the conclusions on your own statement to me that you proposed to make my syndicate holdings more valuable by a legislative measure that would permit the consolidation to take over poles and wires of existing companies or else run wires into communities in case the existing companies would not sell."
"That's only the basic principle of business competition for the good of the consuming public. Competition is the demand, the right of the people," declared Daunt.
"I'm a bit skeptical—still basing my opinion on your own statements as to common-stock dividends—as to the price per kilowatt after competitors shall have been sandbagged according to that legislative measure," drawled the mayor. He turned to the Senator. "You see, sir, your guest and myself are still a good ways apart in our business ideas!"
"We'll drop business—drop it right where it is," said the Senator, curtly. "Mr. Daunt has tried to meet you more than half-way in business, in my house, taking my indorsement of you. When I recommended you I was not aware that you had been making radical speeches to a down-town mob. I am shocked by the change in you, Stewart. Have you any explanation to give me?"
"I'm afraid it would take too long to go over it now in a way to make you understand, sir. I don't want to spoil my case by leaving you half informed. Mr. Daunt and I have reached an understanding. Pardon me, but I insist that I must keep my promise to Miss Corson."
The father did not welcome that announcement. "I trust that the understanding you mention includes the obligation to forget all that Mr. Daunt has said under my roof this evening."
"I have never betrayed confidences in my personal relations with any man,Senator Corson," returned Morrison.
"Then your honor naturally suggests your course in this peculiar situation."
"Let's not stop to split hairs of honor! What do you expect me to do?" demanded Morrison, bruskly business-like.
"I'll tell you what I expect," volunteered Daunt. "You have possession of facts——"
"I did not solicit them, sir. I was practically forced into an interview with you when I much rather would have been enjoying myself in the ballroom."
"Nevertheless, you have the facts. Under the circumstances you have no right to them. I expect you to show a gentleman's consideration and keep carefully away from my affairs."
"I, also, must ask that much, as your mutual host," put in Corson.
"Gentlemen," declared Stewart, setting back his shoulders, "by allowing myself to stretch what you term 'honor' to that fine point I would be held up in a campaign I have started—prevented from going on with my work, simply because Mr. Silas Daunt is among the men I'm fighting. I'm exactly where I was before Mr. Daunt talked to me. I propose to lick a water-power monopoly in this state if it's in my humble power to do it. If you stay in that crowd, Mr. Daunt, you've got to take your chances along with the rest of 'em."
"Stewart, your position is outrageous," blazed Corson. "You're not only throwing away a wonderful business opportunity on lines wholly approved by general usage—simply to indulge an impractical whim for which you'll get no thanks—taking a nonsensical stand for a mere dream in the way of public ownership—but you're insulting me, myself, by the inference that may be drawn."
"I don't understand, sir."
"Well, then, understand!" said the Senator, carried far by his indignation. "You know how I made my fortune!"
"I do!"
"Was I not justified in buying in all the public timber-lands at the going price?"
"Yes, seeing that the people of the state were fools enough to stay asleep and let lands go for a dollar or so an acre—lands to-day worth thousands of dollars an acre for the timber on 'em!"
"I paid the price that was asked. That's as far as a business man is expected to go."
"Certainly, Senator. I'm glad for you. But, I repeat, the people were asleep! Now I'm going to wake 'em up to guard their last great heritage—the water-power that they still own! I'll keep 'em awake, if I've got strength enough in this arm to keep on drumming and breath enough to keep the old trumpet sounding!"
"The corporations in this state are organized, they will protect their charters, they will make you let go of your wild scheme," bellowed the banker. "By the jumped-up Jehoshaphat, they will make you let go, Morrison! By the great—"
"Hush!" pleaded their host. "They can hear outside. No profanity!"
Stewart had started toward the door; he paused for a moment when he had his hand on the knob. "We will not let go!" he said, calmly. "We won't let go—and this is not profanity, Senator Corson—we won't let go of as much as one dam-site!"
After Stewart had closed the door behind himself Senator Corson rose hastily. For a few moments he surveyed the panels of the oaken portal with the intentness of one who was studying a problem on a printed page. Then, plainly, his thoughts went traveling beyond the closed door. But he appeared to be receiving no satisfaction from his scrutiny or from his thoughts. He scowled and muttered.
He stared into the palms of his soiled gloves; the suggestion they offered did not improve his temper. He ripped them from his hands. "What the mischief ails 'em, down here? They're all more or less slippery, Daunt! I've been sensing it all the evening! I feel as if I'd been handling eels."
Banker Daunt was calming himself by a patrol of the room.
"I can view matters like a statesman when I'm in the Senate Chamber," Corson asserted, "but down here at home these days I can't see the forest on account of the trees! I don't know what tree to climb first, Daunt, I swear I don't! What with North getting the party into this scrape it's in, and playing his sharp politics, and this power question fight and—and—"
He gazed at the door again. It now suggested a definite course of procedure, apparently. He crumpled his gloves into a ball and threw them on the table. There was a hint in that action; the Senator was showing his determination to handle matters without gloves for the rest of the evening. "There's one thing about it, Daunt, a man can't do his best in public concerns till he has freed his mind of his private troubles. You wait here. I'll be right back."
"Where are you going, Senator?"
"I'm going to regain my self-respect! I'm going to assert myself as master of my own home. I'm going to tell Stewart Morrison that I have business with him, and that I'll attend to it in a strictly business office, later, where he can't insult my friends and abuse my hospitality!"
"Wait a minute! I've had an acute attack of it, too, this evening—the same ailment, but I'm getting over it. Don't lose your head and your temper, both at the same time. You're not in the right trim just now to go against that bullhead. Let's estimate him squarely. That's always my plan in business." Mr. Daunt plucked a cigar from a box on the table and lighted up leisurely, soothing himself into a matter-of-fact mood. Corson waited with impatience, but his politician's caution began to tug on the bits, moderating the rush of his passion, and he took a cigar for himself.
"Outside of this petty mayor business, does Morrison cut any figure—have any special power in state politics?" the banker asked.
"Not a particle—not as a politician. He doesn't know the A B C's of the game."
"How much influence can he wield as an agitator, as he threatens to become?"
Corson's declaration was less emphatic. "We're conservative, the mass of us, in these parts. Starting trouble isn't wielding influence, Daunt. He'll be going up against the political machine that has always handled this state safely and sanely—and we know what to do with trouble-makers."
"This communistic stand of his certainly discredits him with the corporations, also. Despeaux has been doing good work, and practically all of 'em have come over to the Consolidated camp. Of course, Morrison is antagonizing the banking interests, too. Is he a heavy borrower?"
"He doesn't borrow. He works on his own capital. St. Ronan's is free and clear," admitted the Senator, crossly.
"That's too bad! Calling loans is always effective in improving a radical's opinions. Then this friend, whom you have held up to me as so important in our plans——"
"I did consider him important, Daunt! I do now. I know him. I have seen him go after things, ever since he was a boy. That storage-commission scheme is his own device and, as the head of it, he occupies a strategic position."
"But it's only a scheme; he has no actual organization of the people behind it."
"Confound it! I'm afraid he will have!"
"It's an impractical dream—trying to establish such shadowy ownership of what vested capital under private control must naturally possess and develop. We have sound business on our side."
"It may not seem so much like a dream after he puts that report into the legislature," complained the Senator. "I tell you, I know Stewart Morrison. He indulges in visions, but he'll back this particular one up with so many facts and figures that it will make a treasury report look like a ghost-story by comparison. Talk about sound business! That's Morrison's other name!"
"What's going to be done with that report, Corson?"
The Senator hesitated a few moments.
"Understand that I'm no kin of old Captain Teach, the buccaneer, either in politics or business, Daunt. But I'm not fool enough to believe that the millennium has arrived in this world, even if the battle of Armageddon has been fought, as the parsons are preaching. We still must deal with human conditions. The tree is full of good ideas, I'll admit. But we've got to let 'em ripen. Eat 'em now—and it's a case of the gripes for business and politics, both. Therefore"—the Senator paused and squinted at the end of his cigar. "Well, Daunt, we'll have to apply a little common sense to conditions, even though the opposition may squeal. That ownership of the water-power by the people isn't ripe. The legislative committee will pocket Morrison's report, or will refer the thing to the public utilities commission."
"Both plans meaning the same thing?"
"I won't put it as coarsely as that. It only means handling the situation with discretion. Discretion by those in power is going to save us a lot of trouble in times like these."
"You are sure of the right legislative committee, are you?"
"Certainly! North is on the job up at the State House. I'll admit that he isn't tactful. He's very old-fashioned in his political ideas. But he doesn't mind clamor and criticism, and he isn't afraid of the devil himself. Between you and me, I think," continued the Senator, judicially, "that North is skating pretty near the edge this time. I would not have allowed him to go so far if I had been in better touch with conditions down here. But it's too late to modify his plans much at this hour. He must bull the thing through as he's going. I can undo the mischief to the party by the selection of a smooth diplomat for the gubernatorial nomination next year. But jumping back to the main subject—Stewart Morrison! Seeing what he is, in the water-power matter, I hoped I could smooth things by your getting next to him. I'm sorry you have been so much annoyed, Daunt! He may make it uncomfortable by his mouth, but he cannot control anything by direct political influence. Absolutely not!" The Senator was recovering his confidence in himself as a leader; he started up from his chair and stamped down an emphatic foot. "He is a nonentity in that direction. Politics will handle the thing! The legislature will be all right! The situation on Capitol Hill is safe. However, I think I'll pass a word or two with North!"
He went to the wall of the study, slipped aside a small panel, and lifted out a telephone instrument. "A little precaution I've held over from the old days," Corson informed his guest, with a smile. "A private line to the Executive Chamber."
From where he sat Daunt could hear the Governor's voice. The tones rasped and rattled and jangled in the receiver, which, for the sake of his eardrum, Senator Corson held away from his head. The puckers on his countenance indicated that he was annoyed, both by the news and by the discordant violence of its delivery.
"But it's not as threatening as all that! It can't be!" the listener kept insisting.
"Well, I'll come up," he promised, at last. "I'll come, but I think you're over-anxious, North!"
There was a sound as if somebody were banging on a tin pan at the other end of the line; His Excellency had merely put more vigor into his voice.
"I think—I'm quite sure that he's still here—in my house," Corson replied. "Yes—yes—I certainly will!" He hung up.
"You seemed to think, Daunt, that I didn't have a good and a sufficient reason for saying a few words to Morrison when I started to hunt him up a few minutes ago. However, this time you'll have to excuse me. I'm going to him."
"But you're not intending to make him of any especial importance in affairs, are you? You said he could be ignored."
"Yes! But I don't propose to ignore his efforts to stir up the mob spirit in a city of which he happens to be mayor. He has been up to that mischief! I have heard straight reports from various sources this evening. The Governor has been posted and he is very emphatic on the point." Corson rubbed the ear that was still reminding him of that emphasis.
"That's the trouble with men like Morrison, when they begin to talk people's rights these days, Senator! They go up in the air and jump all the way over into Bolshevism. I'm sorry now because I counseled you to smooth your temper. Go at him. I'll sit here and finish my smoke."
At the head of the broad staircase Senator Corson came upon Mrs. Stanton and Coventry Daunt.
They wore expressions of bewilderment that would have fitted the countenances of explorers who had missed their quest and had lost their reckoning.
Mrs. Stanton put out her fan, and the striding father halted at the polite barrier with a greeting, but evinced anxiety to be on the way.
"I'm so glad to see you, Senator Corson!" This with delight. "But isn'tLana with you?" this with anxiety. "I mean, hasn't she been with you?"
"My dance contracts with Miss Corson have been shot quite all to pieces," said Coventry.
"I have searched everywhere for her—I think I have," supplemented the sister. "But we guessed she must be with you, and we didn't venture to intrude."
"And you are sure she is not in the ballroom?"
"Absolutely!" Young Mr. Daunt plainly knew what he was talking about.
"Coventry, if you and Mrs. Stanton will go there and wait a few moments, I am positive that Lana will come to you very promptly!"
Senator Corson also seemed to know what he was talking about!
Again was Stewart a close listener, his chin resting on his knuckles, his serious eyes searching Lana's face while she talked.
A cozy harbor was afforded by the bay of the great window in the library. When Stewart had returned to the girl he noticed that she had provided the harbor with a breakwater—a tall Japanese screen; waiting there she had found the room draughty, she informed him.
He was placid when he returned. His demeanor was so untroubled and his air so eagerly invited her to go on from where she had left off that she did not bother her mind about the errand which had called him away.
"I'm really glad because we adjourned the executive session for a recess," she confided. "I've had a chance to think over what I was saying to you, Stewart. While I talked I found myself getting a bit hysterical. I realized that I was presumptuous, but I couldn't seem to stop. But I have been going over it in my mind and I'm glad now that my feelings did carry me away. Friendship has a right to be impetuous on some occasions. I never tried to advise you in the old days. You wouldn't have listened, anyway."
"I've always been glad to listen to you," he corrected.
"But it makes a friend so provoked to have one listen and then go ahead and do just as one likes. I want to ask you—while you have been away from me have you been reflecting on what I said?"
He stammered a bit, and there was not absolute candor in his eyes. "To tell the truth, Lana, I allowed myself to be taken up considerably with other matters. But I did remember my promise to hurry back to you, just the minute I could break away," he added, apologetically.
"I'm a little disappointed in you, just the same, Stewart! I've been hoping that you were putting your mind on what I said to you. I was hoping that when you came back——"
"Well, go on, Lana!" he prompted, gently, when she paused.
"It's so hard for me to say it so it will sound as I mean it," she lamented. "To make my interest appear exactly what it is. To find the words to fit my thoughts just now! I know what they're saying about me these days in Marion. I know our folks so well! I don't need to hear the words; I have been studying their faces this evening. You, also, know what they're saying, Stewart!"
He confined his assent to a significant nod; Jeanie MacDougal's few words on the subject had been, for him, a comprehensive summary of the general gossip.
"When I was speechifying to you in St. Ronan's office you thought I had come back here filled with airs and lofty notions. I knew how you felt!"
He shook his head and allowed the extent of his negation to be limited to that! "I'll tell you how I felt—some time—but now I'll listen to you."
"I was putting all that on for show, Stewart! I felt so—so—I don't know! Embarrassed, perhaps! And I felt that you—" her color deepened then in true embarrassment. "And—and—they were all there!" It was naïve confession, and he smiled.
"So I said to my wee mither, Lana, by way of setting her right as to meddlesome tongues."
"I am sincere and honest still, Stewart, where my real friends are concerned. I've just complained because I can't find words to express my thoughts to you. Well, I never was at a loss when we were boy and girl together." She paused and they heard the sound of music.
"There's a frilly style of talk that belongs with that—down there," she went on. There was a hint of contempt in her gesture. "But you and I used to get along better—or worse—with plain speech." The flash of a smile of her own softened hermoue.
"I make it serve me well in my affairs," agreed Morrison.
"Do you think I'm airy and notional and stuck up?"
"No!"
"Do you think I'm posing as a know-it-all because I have been about in the world and have seen and heard?"
"No!"
"But you do think I'm broader and wiser and more open-minded and have better judgment on matters in general than I had when I was penned up here in Marion, don't you?"
"Yes!"
"Stewart, you're not helping me much, staring at me and popping those noes and yesses at me! You make me feel like—but, honestly, I'm not! I don't intend to seem like that!"
"Eh?"
"Why, like an opinionated lecturer, laying down the law of conduct to you!I don't mean to do all the talking."
"You'd better, Lana—for the present," he advised, seriously; "If you have something to say to me, take care and not let me get started on what I want to say to you."
She flushed. She drew away from him slightly. In her apprehensiveness she hurried on for her own protection. "I hoped you were coming back just now, Stewart, and put out your hand to me as your friend, a good pal who had given sensible advice, and say to me, 'Lana, you have used your wits to good advantage while you have been out and about in the world, and your suggestions to me are all right.' Aren't you going to say so, Stewart?"
"As I understand it, putting all you said to me awhile back in that plain language we have agreed on, you tell me that I'm missing my opportunities, have gone to sleep down here in Marion, am allowing myself to be everlastingly tied up by petty business details that keep me away from real enjoyment of a bigger and better life, and that there's not the least need of my spending my best years in that fashion."
"You state it bluntly, but that is the gist of it!"
"Yes, I was blunt. I'm going to be even more blunt! What do I get out of this prospective, bigger life, Lana?" He drew a deep breath. "Do I get—you?"
"Stewart, hush! Wait!" He had spread his hands to her appealingly. "I am talking to you as your friend—I'm talking of your business, your outlook. I must say something further to you!"
He set as firm a grip on his emotions as he had on his anger earlier in the evening when Krylovensky's hand had dealt him a blow. Her demeanor had thrust him away effectually. The fire died in his eyes. "Go on, Lana! I have promised to allow you to have your say. And, once I start, only a 'Yes!' can stop me."
She displayed additional apprehension and plunged into a strictly commercial topic with desperate directness. "I'm positive that you have no further need of making yourself a slave to details of business. I know that you can be free to devote yourself to the higher things that are worthy of your real self and your talents, Stewart. Father says that through Mr. Daunt there will come to you the grandest opportunity of your life. I suppose that's what Mr. Daunt explained to you when you were with him this evening. Even though you may not consider me wise in men's business affairs, Stewart, you must admit that my father and Mr. Daunt know. You haven't any silly notions, have you? You're ready to seize every opportunity to make a grand success in business, the way the great men do, aren't you?"
There was a very different light in Morrison's eyes than had flamed in them a few moments before. He stared at her appraisingly, wonderingly. His demanding survey of her was disconcerting, but his somberness was that of disappointment rather than of any distrust.
"Has your father asked you to talk to me on the subject of that business?"
She did not reply promptly. But his challenge was too direct.
"I confess that father did intimate that there'd be no need of mentioning him in the matter."
"He asked you to talk to me, then?"
"Yes, Stewart!"
"And I thought you were talking only for yourself when you begged me to step up into that broader life!" His voice trembled. She did not appear to understand his emotion.
"But Iamtalking for myself," protested the girl.
"You're talking only your father's views, his plans, his ambition, his scheme of life—talking Daunt's project for his own selfish ends!"
"I don't understand!"
"I hope you don't! For the sake of my love for you, I hope so!" He was striving to control himself. "In the name of what we have been to each other in days past, I hope you are not their—that you don't realize they are making you a——But I can't say it! I want proof from you now by word o' mouth! I don't want any more prattle of business! I want you to show me that you are talking for yourself. Lana Corson, say to me some word from your own heart—something for me alone—something from old times—to prove that you are what I want you to be! I love you. You are mine! I don't believe their gossip. I have never given you up. I've been waiting patiently for you to come back to me. Can't you go back to the old times—and speak from your own soul?"
The intensity of his appeal carried her along in the rush of his emotion. "Stewart, I have been speaking for myself, as best I knew how! I'm back to the old times! If you need further words from me, you shall have them."
Senator Corson stepped around the end of the screen. "You will postpone any further words to Mr. Morrison! I have some words of my own for him! Lana, Coventry Daunt is waiting for you in the ballroom and I have told him that you will be there at once."
"Mr. Daunt must continue to wait, father. I have something to tellStewart, and you must allow me to say it—say it to him, alone."
"You shall never speak another word to him on any subject with my permission. I have been listening and—"
"Father, do you confess that you have been eavesdropping?"
"My present code of manners is perfectly suited to the tactics of this fellow who has flouted me and insulted an honored guest under my roof this evening. Morrison, leave the house!"
"He shall stay at the request of his hostess," declared the girl, defiantly.
"On with you to your guests—that's where your hostess duties are!" Corson reached to take her arm.
Stewart hastily raised Lana's hand and bent over it. "I am indebted to you for a charming evening." He stood erect and his demeanor of manly sincerity removed every suggestion of sarcasm from the conventional phrase he had spoken quietly. "The charm, Senator Corson, has outweighed all the unpleasantness."
When he turned to retire Corson halted him with a curt word.
"Lana, I command you to go and join your partner."
But Miss Corson persisted in her rebelliousness. She did not relish the ominous threat that she perceived in the situation. "I shall stay with you till you're in a better state of temper, father."
"You'll hear nothing to this man's credit if you do stay," said the Senator, acridly. "I have just talked on the 'phone with the Governor, Mayor Morrison. He asked me to notify you that your mob which you have stirred up in your own city, by your devilish speeches this evening, is evidently on the war-path. He, expects you to undo the mischief, seeing that your tongue is the guilty party!"
Lana turned startled gaze from her father to Morrison; amazement struggled with her indignation. Her amazement was deepened by the mayor's mild rejoinder.
"Very well, Senator. I have an excellent understanding with that mob."
"Making speeches to a mob!" Lana gasped. "I'll not allow even my father to say that about you, Stewart, and leave it undisputed."
"Your father is angry just now, Lana! Any discussion will provoke further unpleasantness!"
"Confound you! Don't you dare to insult me by your condescending airs," thundered Corson. "You have your orders. Go and mix with your rabble and continue that understanding with 'em, if you can make 'em understand that law and order must prevail in this city to-night."
The library was in a wing of the mansion, far from the street, and the three persons behind the screen had been entirely absorbed in their troubled affairs. They had heard none of the sounds from the street.
Somebody began to call in the corridor outside the library. The voice sounded above the music from the ballroom, and quavered with anxious entreaty as it demanded, over and over: "Senator Corson! Where are you, Senator Corson?"
"Here!" replied the Senator.
The secretary rushed in. "There's a mob outside, sir! A threatening mob!"
"Ah! Morrison, your friends are looking you up!"
"They are radicals—anarchists. They must be!" panted the messenger. "They are yelling: 'Down with the capitalists! Down with the aristocrats!' I ordered the shades pulled. The men seemed to be excited by looking in through the windows at the dancers in the ballroom!"
"There'll be no trouble. I'll answer for that," promised the Mayor, marching away.
Before he reached the door the crash of splintered glass, the screams of women and shouts of men; drowned the music.
Stewart went leaping down the stairs. When he reached the ballroom he found the frightened guests massed against the wall, as far from the windows as they could crowd. A wild battle of some sort was going on outside in the night, so oaths and cries and the grim thudding of battering fists revealed.
Before Stewart could reach a window—one of those from which the glass had been broken—Commander Lanigan came through the aperture with a rush, skating to a standstill along the polished floor. Blood was on his hands. His sleeves hung in ribbons. In that scene of suspended gaiety he was a particularly grisly interloper.
"They sneaked it over on us, Mister Mayor!" he yelled. "I got a tip and routed out the Legion boys and chased 'em, but the dirty, Bullshevists beat us to it up the hill. But we've got 'em licked!"
"Keep 'em licked for the rest of the night," Morrison suggested. "I'll be down-town with you, right away!"
But Lanigan, in his raging excitement, was not amenable to hints or orders, nor was he cautious in his revelations. "We can handle things down-town, Your Honor! What we want to know is, what about up-town—up on Capitol Hill?"
"You've had my promise of what I'll do. And I'll do it!"
Senator Corson and his daughter had arrived in the ballroom. The Senator was promptly and intensely interested in this cocksure declaration by Morrison.
"Your promise is the same as hard cash for me and the level-headed ones," retorted Commander Lanigan. "But whether it's the Northern Lights in the skies or plain hellishness in folks or somebody underneath stirring and stirring trouble and starting lies, I don't know! Lots of good boys have stopped being level-headed! I'll hold the gang down if I can, sir. But what I want to know is, can we depend on you to tend to Capitol Hill? Are you still on the job? Can I tell 'em that you're still on the job?"
"You can tell 'em all that I'm on the job from now till morning," shouted the mayor. He was heard by the men outside. They gave his declaration a howl of approval.
"The people will be protected," shouted an unseen admirer.
Stewart hurried to Senator Corson and was not daunted by that gentleman's blazing countenance.
"I'm sorry, sir. This seems to be a flareback of some sort. I'll have police on guard at once!"
"You'll protect the people, eh? There's a flatterer in your mob, Morrison! You can't even give window-glass in this city suitable protection—a mayor like you! I'll have none of your soviet police around my premises." He turned to his secretary. "Call the adjutant-general at the State House and tell him to send a detachment of troops here."
"I trust they'll co-operate well with the police I shall send," stated theMayor, stiffly. He hastened from the room.
When Stewart had donned hat and overcoat and was about to leave the mansion by the main door, Lana stepped in front of him. "Stewart, you must stop for a moment—you must deny it, what father has been saying to me about you just now!"
"Your father is angry—and in anger a man says a whole lot that he doesn't mean. I'm in a hurry—and a man in a hurry spoils anything he tries to tell. We must let it wait, Lana."
"But if you go on—go on as you're going—crushing Mr. Daunt's plans—spoiling your own grand prospects—antagonizing my father—paying no heed to my advice!" The girl's sentences were galloping breathlessly.
"We'll have time to talk it over, Lana!"
"What! Talk it over after you have been reckless enough to spoil everything? You must stand with your friends, I tell you! Father is wiser than you! Isn't he right?"
"I—I guess he thinks he is—but I can't talk about it." He was backing toward the door.
"You must know what it means—for us two—if you go headlong against him.I stand stanchly for my father—always!"
"I reckon you'll have to be sort of loyal to your father—but I can't talk about it! Not now!" he repeated. He was uncomfortably aware that he had no words to fit the case.
"But if you don't stand with him, you're in with the rabble—the rabble," she declared, indignantly. "He says you are! Stewart, I know you won't insult his wisdom and deny my prayer to you! Only a few moments ago I was ready——But I cannot say those words to you unless——You understand!"
This interview had been permitted only because Senator Corson's attention had been absorbed by Mrs. Stanton's hysterical questions. But the lady's fears did not affect her eyesight. She had noted Lana's departure and she caught a glimpse of the mayor when he strode past the ballroom door with his hat in his hand.
"Yes, I'll be calm, Senator! I'm sure that we'll be perfectly protected. Lana followed the mayor just now, and I suppose she is insisting on a double detail of police."
The Senator promptly followed, too, to find out more exactly what Lana was insisting on.
"Haven't you joined your rabble yet, Morrison?" Corson queried, insolently, when he came upon the two.
"I'm going, sir—going right along!"
Lana set her hands together, the fingers interlaced so tightly that the flesh was as white as her cheeks. "'Your rabble!' Stewart! Oh! Oh!" In spite of her thinly veiled threat of a few moments ago, there was piteous protest in her face and voice.
"According to suggestions from all quarters, I don't seem to fit any other kind of society just now," he replied, ruefully. He marched out into the night.
"Call my car," Senator Corson directed a servant.
In the reception-hall he encountered Silas Daunt, "Slip on your hat and coat. Come along with me to the State House. I'll show you how practical politics can settle a rumpus, after a visionary has tumbled down on his job!"
At eleven o'clock Adj.-Gen. Amos Totten set up the cinch of his sword-belt by a couple of holes and began another tour of inspection of the State House. He considered that the parlous situation in state affairs demanded full dress. During the evening he had been going on his rounds at half-hour intervals. On each trip he had been much pleased by the strict, martial discipline and alertness displayed by his guardsmen. The alertness was especially noticeable; every soldier was tautly at 'tention when the boss warrior hove in sight. General Totten was portly and came down hard on his heels with an elderly man's slumping gait, and his sword clattered loudly and his movements were as well advertised as those of a belled cat in a country kitchen.
In the interims, between the tours of General Totten, Captain Danny Sweetsir did his best to keep his company up to duty pitch. But he was obliged to admit to himself that the boys were not taking the thing as seriously as soldiers should.
Squads were scattered all over the lower part of the great building, guarding the various entrances. While Captain Sweetsir was lecturing the tolerant listeners of one squad, he was irritably aware that the boys of the squads that were not under espionage were doing nigh about everything that a soldier on duty should not do, their diversions limited only by their lack of resources.
Therefore, when General Totten complimented him at eleven o'clock, Captain Sweetsir had no trouble at all in disguising his gratification and in assuming the approved, sour demeanor of military gravity. Even then his ears, sharpened by his indignation, caught the clicking of dice on tiles.
"Of course, there will be no actual trouble to-night," said the general, removing his cap and stroking his bald head complacently. "I have assured the boys that there will be no trouble. But this experience is excellent military training for them, and I'm pleased to note that they're thoroughly on thequi vive."
Captain Sweetsir, on his own part, did not apprehend trouble, either, but the A.-G.'s bland and unconscious encouragement of laxity was distinctly irritating, "Excuse me, sir, but I have been telling 'em right along that there will be a rumpus. I was trying to key 'em up!"
"Remember that you're a citizen as well as a soldier!" The general rebuked his subaltern sternly. "Don't defame the fair name of your city and state, sir! The guard has been called out by His Excellency, the Commander-in-Chief, merely as a precaution. The presence of troops in the State House—their mere presence here—has cleared the whole situation. Mayor Morrison agrees with me perfectly on that point."
"He does?" demanded the captain, eagerly, showing relief. "Why, I was afraid—" He checked himself.
"Of what, sir?"
"He didn't look like giving three cheers when I told him in the mill office that we had been ordered out."
"Mayor Morrison called me on the telephone in the middle of the day and I explained to him why it was thought necessary to have the State House guarded."
"And what did he say?" urged the captain, still more eagerly. Again he caught himself. He saluted. "I beg your pardon, General Totten. I have no right to put questions to my superior officer."
But General Totten was not a military martinet. He was an amiable gentleman from civil life, strong with the proletariat because he had been through the chairs in many fraternal organizations and, therefore, handy in politics; and he was strong with the Governor on account of another fraternal tie—his sister was the Governor's wife. General Totten, as a professional mixer, enjoyed a chat.
"That's all right, Captain! What did the mayor say, you ask? He courteously made no comment. Official tact! He is well gifted in that line. His manner spoke for him—signified his complete agreement. He was cordially polite! Very!"
The general put on his cap and slanted it at a jaunty angle. "And he still approves. Is very grateful for the manner in which I'm handling the situation. He called me only a few minutes ago. From his residence! I informed him that all was serene on Capitol Hill."
"And what did he say when he called you this time?"
"Nothing! Oh, nothing by way of criticism! Distinctly affable!"
Captain Sweetsir did not display the enthusiasm that General Totten seemed to expect.
"Let's see, Captain! You are employed by him?"
"Not quite that way! I'm a mill student—learning the wool business at St.Ronan's."
"Aren't you and Mayor Morrison friendly?"
"Oh yes! Certainly, sir! But—" Captain Sweetsir appeared to be having much difficulty in completing his sentences, now that Stewart Morrison had become the topic of conversation.
"But what?"
"He didn't say anything, you tell me?"
"His cordiality spoke louder than words. And, of course, I was glad to meet him half-way. I have invited him to call at the State House, if he cares to do so, though the hour is late. And now I come to the matter of my business with you, Captain Sweetsir," stated the general, putting a degree of official sanction on his garrulity in the case of this subordinate. "If Mayor Morrison does come to the State House to-night, by any chance, you may admit him."
"Did he say anything about coming?"
"Mayor Morrison understands that I am handling everything so tactfully that an official visit by him might be considered a reflection on my capability. His politeness equals mine, Captain. Undoubtedly he will not trouble to come. If he should happen to call unofficially you will please see to it that politeness governs."
"Yes, sir! But the other orders hold good, do they, politeness or no politeness?"
"For mobs and meddling politicians, certainly! I put them all in the same class in a time like this."
General Totten clucked a stuffy chuckle and clanked on his official way.
Captain Sweetsir heard a sound that was as fully exasperating as the click of dice; somebody, somewhere in the dimly lighted rotunda, was snoring. He had previously found sluggards asleep on settees; he went in search of the latest offender. But his thoughts were occupied principally by reflection on that peculiar reticence of the Morrison of St. Ronan's; Mill-student Sweetsir was assailed by doubts of the correctness of General Totten's comfortable conclusions. Mr. Sweetsir, in the line of business, had had opportunity on previous occasions to observe the reaction of the Morrison's reticence.
The adjutant-general did not bother with the elevator. He marched up the middle of the grand stairway.
The State House was only partially illuminated with discreet stint of lights. All the outside incandescents of dome,porte-cochère, and vestibules had been extinguished. The inside lights were limited to those in the corridors and the lobbies. The great building on Capitol Hill seemed like a cowardly giant, clumsily intent on being inconspicuous.
General Totten did not harmonize with the hush. He was distinctly an ambulatory noise in the corridor which led to the executive department. He was announced informally, therefore, to His Excellency. There was no way of announcing oneself formally to the Governor at that hour, except by rapping on the door of the private chamber. The reception-room was empty, the private secretary was not on duty, the messenger of the Governor and of the Executive Council had been informed by Governor North that his services would not be required for the rest of the evening.
Being both adjutant-general and brother-in-law, Totten did not bother to knock.
The Governor was at his broad table in the center of the room; the big chandelier above the table was ablaze, and the shadows of the grooves on North's face were accentuated. He was staring at the opening door with an expectancy that had been fully apprised as to the caller's identity, and he was not cordial. "You make a devilish noise lugging that meat-cleaver around, Amos. What's the use of all the full-dress nonsense?"
"Official exampleand"—the general bore down hard on the conjunction—"the absolute necessity of a civilian officer getting into uniform when he exercises authority. I know human nature!"
"All right! Maybe you do. But don't trip yourself up with that sword and fall down and break your neck," advised the Governor, satirically solicitous as one of the family. "Anything stirring down-stairs?"
"The situation is being handled perfectly. Everybody alert. It's wonderful training for the guards."
"I haven't liked the sound of reports from the city. Has any news come to you lately?"
"Nothing of special importance. Only a little disturbance, or the threat of one, in the vicinity of Senator Corson's residence. His secretary called up. I sent a few boys down there."
"A disturbance?" barked North.
"I didn't quite gather the details. The man ran his words together."General Totten helped himself to one of his brother-in-law's cigars.
"This sounds serious. Why the infernal blazes don't you wake up?"
"An officer commanding troops mustn't be thrown off his poise by every flurry. What would happen if I didn't keep my head?"
"When was this?"
"Oh, maybe half an hour ago," replied the adjutant-general, with martial indifference to any mere rumblings of popular discontent.
"That's probably the reason why Corson hasn't got along yet. I'm expecting him. I sent for him." North twitched his nose; his eye-glasses dropped off and dangled at the end of their cord. "I have sent explicit orders to Mayor Morrison to tend to that mob that he has been coddling. He's letting 'em get away from him, if what you say is so."