Passed, on catspaw rubber tread, from the long dark bookstore, Professor L. B. Dunn, principal of Graded School No. 3, Montgomery Avenue. He smiled coldly at them with a gimlet narrowing of his spectacled eyes. The tell-tale cover of The New Republic peeked from his pocket. Clamped under his lean and freckled arm were new library copies of The Great Illusion, by Norman Angell, and The Ancient Grudge, by Owen Wister. A lifelong advocate of a union of the two great English-speaking (sic) nations, making together irresistibly for peace, truth, and righteousness in a benevolent but firm authority over the less responsible elements of civilization, he passed, the Catholic man, pleasantly dedicated to the brave adventuring of minds and the salvaging of mankind. Ah, yes!
“And how are you and the Good Woman enjoying your sojourn in the Land of the Sky?” said the Reverend John Smallwood.
“Our only regret,” said the Commoner, “is that our visit here must be measured by days and not by months. Nay, by years.”
Mr. Richard Gorman, twenty-six, city reporter of The Citizen, strode rapidly up the street, with proud cold news-nose lifted. His complacent smile, hard-lipped, loosened into servility.
“Ah, there, Dick,” said John Smallwood, clasping his hand affectionately, and squeezing his arm. “Just the man I was looking for. Do you know Mr. Bryan?”
“As fellow newspaper men,” said the Commoner, “Dick and I have been close friends for—how many years is it, my boy?”
“Three, I think, sir,” said Mr. Gorman, blushing prettily.
“I wish you could have been here, Dick,” said the Reverend Smallwood, “to hear what Mr. Bryan was saying about us. The good people of this town would be mighty proud to hear it.”
“I’d like another statement from you before you go, Mr. Bryan,” said Richard Gorman. “There’s a story going the rounds that you may make your home with us in the future.”
When questioned by a Citizen reporter, Mr. Bryan refused either to confirm or deny the rumor:
“I may have a statement to make later,” he observed with a significant smile, “but at present I must content myself by saying
