oor, ignorant people will swarm out
of the Rookeries and go anywhere to escape the quarantine that they know
will come. You'll have an epidemic not localized, but general. The
situation will be ten times as difficult and dangerous as it is now."

Struck with the plausibility of this reasoning, Hal hesitated. "That's
up to the authorities," he said.

"The authorities!" cried the charlatan, in disdain. "What could they do?
The damage would be done before they got ready to move. You see, we've
got to handle this situation diplomatically. Look here, Boyee; what's
the worst feature of an epidemic? Panic. You know the Bible parable. The
seven plagues came to Egypt and ten thousand people died. The Grand
Vizier said to the plagues, 'How many of my people have you slain?' The
plagues said, 'A thousand.' 'What about the other nine thousand?' said
the Grand Vizier. 'Not guilty!' said the plagues. 'They were slain by
Fear.' Maybe it was in 'Paradise Lost' and not the Bible. But the
lesson's the same. Panic is the killer."

"But the disease is increasing all the time," objected Hal. "Are we to
sit still and--"

"Is it?" broke in the wily controversialist. "How do you account for
this, then?" He drew from his pocket a printed leaflet. "Take a peek at
those figures. Fewer deaths in the Rookeries this last week than in any
week since March."

This was true. Not infrequently there comes an inexplicable subsidence
of mortality in mid-epidemic. No competent hygienist is deceived into
mistaking this phenomenon for an indication of the end. Not being a
hygienist Hal was again impressed.

"The Health Bureau's own statistics," continued the argumentator,
pushing his advantage. "With Dr. Merritt's signature at the bottom."

"Dr. Merritt says that the epidemic is being fostered by secrecy,
suppression, and lying."

"All sentimentalism. Merritt would turn the city upside down if he had
his way. Was it him that told you it was typhus?"

"No. We've got a two-page story in proof now, giving the whole facts of
the epidemic."

"You can't publish it, Boy-ee," said his father firmly.

"Can't? That sounds like an order."

Adroitly Dr. Surtaine caught at the word. "An order drawn on your word
of honor."

"If there's any question of honor to the 'Clarion,' it's to tell the
truth plainly and take the consequences."

"Who said anything about the 'Clarion's' honor? This is between you and
me."

"You'll have to speak more plainly," said H