"It sounds bad, Pop. But is it so bad, after all? We've got to protect ourselves against a hold-up." "Dirty work, but somebody's got to do it: ay--yes? I agree with you. As a means of self-defense it is excusable. But the operations of the sandbag have gone far beyond libel in Ives's hands." "Have they? To what extent?" "Any. His little private detective agency--he's got a couple of our porch-climbing, keyhole reporters secretly assigned to him at call for 'special work'--looks after any man we've got or are likely to have trouble with; advertisers who don't come across properly, city officials who play in with the other papers too much, politicians--" "But that's rank blackmail!" exclaimed Banneker. "Carried far enough it is. So far it's only private information for the private archives." "Marrineal's?" "Yes. He and his private counsel, old Mark Stecklin, are the keepers of them. Now, suppose Judge Enderby runs afoul of our interests, as he is bound to do sooner or later. Little Weaselfoot gets on his trail--probably is on it already--and he'll spend a year if necessary watching, waiting, sniffing out something that he can use as a threat or a bludgeon or a bargain." "What quarrel have we got with Enderby?" inquired Banneker with lively interest. "None, now. But we'll be after him hot and heavy within a year." "Not the editorial page," declared Banneker. "Well, I hope not. It would be rather a right-about, wouldn't it? But Marrineal isn't afraid of a right-about. You know his creed as to his readers: 'The public never remembers.' Of course, you realize what Marrineal is after, politically." "No. He's never said a word to me." "Nor to me. But others have. The mayoralty." "For himself?" "Of course. He's quietly building up his machine." "But Laird will run for reelection." "He'll knife Laird." "It's true Laird hasn't treated us very well, in the matter of backing our policies," admitted Banneker thoughtfully. "The Combined Street Railway franchise, for instance." "He was right in that and you were wrong, Ban. He had to follow the comptroller there." "Is that where our split with Enderby is going to come? Over the election?" "Yes. Enderby is the brains and character back of the Laird administration. He represents the clean government crowd, with its financial power." Banneker stirred fretfully in his chair. "Damn it!" he growled. "I wish we could run this paper _as_ a newspaper and not as a chestnut rake." "How sweet and simple life would be!" mocked the veteran. "Still, you know, if you're going to use The Patriot as a blunderbuss to point at the heads of your own enemies, you can't blame the owner if he--" "You think Marrineal knows?" interposed Banneker sharply. "About The Searchlight matter? You can bet on one thing, Ban. Everything that Ely Ives knows, Tertius Marrineal knows. So far as Ives thinks it advisable for him to know, that is. Over and above which Tertius is no fool, himself. You may have noticed that."