you can. Hobson, get hold of the stenographer of the city council and get
his report of both Taylor's and Potts' speeches. Choke it out of him for
I suspect they have both attempted to have them destroyed."

"Don't you see, Major, don't you see, he tried to make a play to the
masses of protecting the city's property and the city's law and order,
but he jumped into a hornet's nest? We managed to keep it all out of the
morning paper but something is sure to creep in. Hadn't we better have a
conference with the editors?" Tom was a solid quantity to be reckoned
with in a stress that called for keenness of judgment rather than
emotion.

"Ask them for a conference in the editorial rooms of the _Gray Picket_ at
two-thirty, Tom," answered the major. "In the meantime I'll draft an
editorial for the special edition. We must come out with it in the
morning at all odds."

In a few moments the echo of their steps over the polished floors and the
ring of their voices had died away and the major was once more alone in
his quiet library. He laid aside his books and drew his chair up to the
table and began to make preparations for his editorial utterances. His
rampant grizzled forelock stood straight up and his jaws were squared and
grim. He paused and was in the act of calling Jeff to summon Phoebe over
the wire when the curtains parted and she stood on the threshold. The
major never failed to experience a glow of pride when Phoebe appeared
before him suddenly. She was a very clear-eyed, alert, poised
individuality, with the freshness of the early morning breezes about her.

"My dear," he said without any kind of preliminary greeting, "what do you
make of the encounter between David Kildare and Julge Taylor? The boys