eyship.--[Illustration: Across the way,
Mrs. Herrington, the fighting blood of five generations of patriots
roused in her, had reinstated the Voiceless Speech.] These people below
certainly had a jolt coming to them!

George's impatient and glowering meditations--the hour was then near
four--were broken in upon by several interruptions, which came on him in
quick succession, as though detonated by brief-interval time-fuses. The
first was the entrance of that straw-haired misspeller of his letters
who had succeeded Betty Sheridan as guardian of the outer office.

"Mr. Doolittle is here," she announced. "He says he wants to see you."

"You tell Mr. Doolittle _I_ don't want to see _him_!" commanded the
irritated George.

But Mr. Benjamin Doolittle was already seeing his candidate. As
political boss of his party, he had little regard for such a formality
as being announced to any person on whom he might call--so he had walked
through the open door.

"Well, what d'you want, Doolittle?" George demanded aggressively.

Mr. Doolittle's face wore that look of bland solicitude, that
unobtrusive partnership in the misfortune of others, which had made
him such an admirable and prosperous officiant at the last rites of
residents of Whitewater.

"I just wanted to ask you, George--" he was beginning in his soft,
lily-of-the-valley voice, when the telephone on George's desk started
ringing. George turned and reached for it, to find that Penny had
already picked up the instrument.

"I'll answer it, George.... Hello... Mr. Remington is here, but is busy;
I'll speak for him--I'm Mr. Evans.... What--it's you! Where are you?...
Stay where you are; I'll come right over for you in my car."

"Who was that?" demanded George.

"Genevieve," Penny said rapidly, seizing his hat, "and I'm going----"

"So am I!" exclaimed George.

"Not till we've had a little understanding," sharply put in Doolittle,
blocking his way.

"Stay here, George," his partner snapped out--"she's perfectly
safe--just a little out of breath--telephoned from a drug store over in
the Red-field district. I'll have her back here in fifteen minutes." And
out Penny dashed, slamming the door.

But perhaps it was the straw-haired successor of Betty Sheridan who
really prevented George from plunging after his partner.

"You ordered the _Sentinel_ sent up as soon as it was out," she said.
"Here are six copies."

George seized the ink-damp papers, and as the straw-hair