Garland here!--which is duly done. Brutal egoism, that's the
philosophy--"

"Police!" cried O'Neill, puffing good-humoredly. "Why, V.V.!--They're
personally some of the best people in town! If you knew 'em you'd be the
first to say so. Take the Heths now, just to show you--"

"Huns all! I do know them, I say, through to their little prehensile
souls! You don't seem to get me.... Why, I feel _sorry_ for them, Sam! I
wouldn't mind much what they did if they were only _happy with it_! But,
good heavens!... D'you know what this age needs, my boy? _A voice crying
in the wilderness_...."

"H'm! Don't know about that. You'll find, where it's a matter touching
their pockets, people don't listen to voices much, either in--"

"They listened to John the Baptist!"

"What?" said Sam, rather disliking these constant references to the
ancient days.

"I say they listened to John the Baptist!" cried tall Dr. Vivian,
slapping one impetuous hand into the other. "Yes, and came running and
sweating to the desert, just to get a tongue-lashing from him--the very
same old scribes and Pharisees that drive motor-cars down Washington
Street to-day! And they'd run to him to-day, never fear! I tell you,
there's a voice the heart is never deaf to! And that's what this age
needs, Sam,--since you ask _me_,--a big, fierce prophet on the outskirts
of the city; a great, grim, uncompromising _hater_, with a tongue that
bites like a blacksnake whip. By George, they'd listen to him! He