All-Wool Morrison: Time -- Today, Place -- the United States, Period of Action -- Twenty-four HoursDay, Holman
General
All-Wool Morrison: Time -- Today, Place -- the United States, Period of Action -- Twenty-four Hours
Day, Holman
Political corruption -- Fiction; Politicians -- Fiction
From where he sat Daunt could hear the Governor's voice. The tones rasped
and rattled and jangled in the receiver, which, for the sake of his
eardrum, Senator Corson held away from his head. The puckers on his
countenance indicated that he was annoyed, both by the news and by the
discordant violence of its delivery.
"But it's not as threatening as all that! It can't be!" the listener kept
insisting.
"Well, I'll come up," he promised, at last. "I'll come, but I think you're
over-anxious, North!"
There was a sound as if somebody were banging on a tin pan at the other
end of the line; His Excellency had merely put more vigor into his voice.
"I think--I'm quite sure that he's still here--in my house," Corson
replied. "Yes--yes--I certainly will!" He hung up.
"You seemed to think, Daunt, that I didn't have a good and a sufficient
reason for saying a few words to Morrison when I started to hunt him up a
few minutes ago. However, this time you'll have to excuse me. I'm going to
him."
"But you're not intending to make him of any especial importance in
affairs, are you? You said he could be ignored."
"Yes! But I don't propose to ignore his efforts to stir up the mob spirit
in a city of which he happens to be mayor. He has been up to that
mischief! I have heard straight reports from various sources this evening.
The Governor has been posted and he is very emphatic on the point." Corson
rubbed the ear that was still reminding him of that emphasis.
"That's the trouble with men like Morrison, when they begin to talk
people's rights these days, Senator! They go up in the air and jump all
the way over into Bolshevism. I'm sorry now because I counseled you to
smooth your temper. Go at him. I'll sit here and finish my smoke."
At the head of the broad staircase Senator Corson came upon Mrs. Stanton
and Coventry Daunt.
They wore expressions of bewilderment that would have fitted the
countenances of explorers who had missed their quest and had lost their
reckoning.
Mrs. Stanton put out her fan, and the striding father halted at the polite
barrier with a greeting, but evinced anxiety to be on the way.
"I'm so glad to see you, Senator Corson!" This with delight. "But isn't
Lana with you?" this with anxiety. "I mean, hasn't she been with you?"
"My dance contracts with Miss Corson have been shot quite all to pieces,"
said Coventry.
"I have searched everywhere for her--I think I have," supplemented the
sister. "But we guessed she must be with you, and we didn't venture to
intrude."
"And you are sure she is not in the ballroom?"
"Absolutely!" Young Mr. Daunt plainly knew what he was talking about.
"Coventry, if you and Mrs. Stanton will go there and wait a few moments, I
am positive that Lana will come to you very promptly!"
Senator Corson also seemed to know what he was talking about!
XI
FLAREBACKS IN THE CASE OF LOVE AND A MOB
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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