Stewart hesitated a moment, taking thought. "I'm going to volunteer as a
sort of an Executive, gentlemen," he explained, deferentially. "The
exigency seems to need one. I have heard that a good Executive is one who
acts quickly and is right--part of the time! I'm indebted to Senator
Corson for a suggestion he made a little while ago. I think, Mac Tavish,
you'd better swear me in as Boss of the Job."
XVI
THE CITY OF MARION SEEKS ITS MAYOR
Gaiety's glaring brilliancy on Corson Hill had been effectually snuffed by
the onslaught of the mob. The mansion hid its lights behind shades and
shutters. The men of the orchestra had packed their instruments; the
dismayed guests put on their wraps and called for their carriages.
In the place of lilting violins and merry tongues, hammers clattered and
saws rasped; the servants were boarding up the broken windows.
Lana Corson, closeted with Mrs. Stanton, found the discord below-stairs
peculiarly hateful; it suggested so much, replacing the music.
The rude hand of circumstance had been laid so suddenly on the melody of
life!
"And I'll say again--" pursued Mrs. Stanton, breaking a silence that had
lain between the two.
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