"Boys, I'm going to give you something better than
words. Hearing can't always be trusted. But seeing is believing!"
He pulled a police whistle from his pocket and shrilled a signal.
For a time there was no answer or demonstration of any sort.
Then the tramp of marching feet was heard on the pavement of the square.
It was Marion's police force, issuing from some point of mobilization near
at hand; it was the force in full strength, led by the chief; he was in
dress-parade garb and the radiance of the square was reflected in imposing
high-lights by his gold braid.
The crowd was shaken by eddies and was convulsed by quickly formed
vortices. Morrison was studying that mob with his keen gaze, watching the
movements as they sufficed to reveal an expression of emotions.
"Hold on, boys! Don't run away!" he counseled. "Wait for the big show! No
arrests intended! Only cowards and guilty men will run!"
The light that was shed from the State House was pitilessly revealing; men
could not hide their movements. Morrison reiterated his promise and dwelt
hard on the "coward and guilty" part of his declaration.
The chief of police waved his hand and the crowd parted obediently and the
officers marched up the lane, four abreast.
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