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.
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