But the abstraction that had marked Morrison's demeanor when he had looked
over the Governor's head at the closed door and the later glint of jest in
his eyes departed suddenly. The eyes narrowed.
"You talk of trouble that's impending this night, Governor North!"
"There'll be no trouble," insisted the Senator.
"Fools can always stir a row," declared His Excellency, with just as much
emphasis. "Fools who are led by rascals! Rascals who would wreck an
express train for the chance to pick pocketbooks off corpses! There's been
that element behind every piece of political hellishness and every strike
we've had in this country in the last two years since the Russian bear
stood up and began to dance to that devil's tune! On the eve of the
assembling of this legislature, Morrison, you're probably hearing the
blacklegs in the other party howl 'state steal' again!"
"No, I haven't heard any such howl--not lately--not since the November
election," said Morrison. "Why are they starting it now?"
"I don't know," retorted the Governor. But the mayor's stare was again
wide-open and compelling, and His Excellency's gaze shifted to Mac Tavish
and then jumped off that uncomfortable object and found refuge on the
ceiling.
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