CHAPTER X
THE LIFTING OF THE SPELL
The spell lifted. The city broke into a roar. People sprang into rapid andviolent motion, as though released from a physical lethargy.
"All over?" asked the reporter. He asked it in a loud shout.
"All over," replied Darrow. "You don't need to yell. I'm not deaf."
The reporter grinned.
"I guess that's what everybody else in town is doing," he surmised.
Certainly this remark was justified by the sample in the square. Every manwas shouting at his neighbor to the lung-straining limit of his ability.Three exhorters, their eyes ablaze with fanaticism, began to thunder forthdire warnings of the wrath to come--and gained a hearing. Men rushed toand fro aimlessly. The gentleman with the side-whiskers, who looked likethe caricatures of the trusts, having at last succeeded in making hisimperial wishes known, clambered into a taxicab, and sat back, apparentlyunimpressed. After a moment the driver recovered sufficiently to fall intothe habit of obedience, and so drove away.
While the three men watched, a burly individual with a red face camehurtling directly at them. If they had not dodged hastily to one side,they would have suffered a collision.
"The end of the world is at hand!" this man was shrieking. "Repent!Repent!"
"That's Larry Mulcahey," remarked the reporter, with a grin. "He keepsbar."
"I'm hungry," observed Darrow. "Haven't eaten since noon."
"Free lunch," suggested the reporter practically. "You won't be able toget any service anywhere. How about that interview? Got anything to say?"
"You're the busy little bee to-night," said Darrow. "But I'll tell youwhat I'll do. I'll give you a tip. Be at the Atlas Building at not laterthan nine to-morrow morning, and stay at least until ten. If you can fixit, be on the tenth floor. Hunt up the United Wireless man and make himtalk. Then come to me."
"That's afternoon paper stuff--unless it's exclusive," said the reporterinstantly.
"If you'll obey my orders the most important part of it will beexclusive," said Darrow.
The reporter eyed him keenly.
"Why?" he asked.
"You're Hallowell, aren't you? I thought I wasn't mistaken. I saw you atwork on that Duane Street murder case. Your work was good. Besides, I likethe _Despatch_--and the afternoon papers are too soon for what I want."
"Last reason accepted. Others received and placed on file."
"All right," agreed Darrow. "Have it your own way--only obey orders." Heentered the door of the bar and advanced on the lunch counter.
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