They hold up an idol and ask you to bow down
and be slaves to it; but you're only bowing to the drivers of slaves! They
hide behind that idol and work it for all it's worth. They point to it and
tell you that you must empty your pockets to add to their wealth, and work
your fingers off for their selfish ends."
He halted a short distance from the plinth, declaiming furiously.
Morrison broke in, snapping out his words. "Down to cases, now! What is
the idol?"
"A patchwork of red, white, and blue rags!"
Morrison whirled, crouched on his hands and knees, set his fingers on the
edge of the plinth, and slid down the side. He swung for an instant at the
end of his arms and dropped the rest of the way to the pavement.
Lanigan had started for the man, but Stewart overtook the commander,
seized him by the collar and coattail slack, and tossed him to one side.
"Here's a case at last where I don't need any help or advice from you,
Joe!"
"Punch the face offn him!" adjured Lanigan, even while he was floundering
among the legs of the men against whom he had been thrown.
The mayor plunged through the crowd in the direction of the vilifier.
The man did not attempt to escape.
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