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Updated: May 4, 2025
Lanigan's yelp broke in like an explosion. "Hold this Bullshevist, Peter! I want both hands free!" "I wasn't saying anything against our government, Commander Lanigan! Not a word!" wailed the overseas man. "So help me!" "I'm in a soothing frame of mind this night," returned the ex-sergeant. "I have been having some good lessons in soothing from the mayor of Marion, God bless him!
"The nerve o' ye, parading your red wattles on a night like this, ye Tom Gobbler of a Bullshevist!" "I have the right to pick the color of my own necktie!" snarled the man. "Not for the reason why you picked it! Not to wear it up into that hall, my bucko boy!" When the man expostulated with oaths, Lanigan tripped him and held him on the sidewalk. "Hush your yawp!
"Only keep your eye peeled to see that another Bullshevist don't sneak up and kick me from behind, after the like o' the breed!" Demeter's exploration produced a bulldog revolver, a slungshot, a packet of pamphlets, and several small red flags. "What's your name?" demanded the commander. "No business of yours!" Lanigan kneeled on the captive and roweled cruel thumbs into the man's neck.
"I can stand it better to be banged on the knob by a gun-butt by a good American than batted in the eye by this color on a Bullshevist!" asserted Lanigan, waving the red necktie that he still retained in his clutch. He gave the owner of it another push. "Along with you, Bill the Bomber." Tolson trailed. "But what are they trying to do up on Capitol Hill, sir? What does it all mean?"
"Well, let me tell you, you red-gilled Bullshevist, that till you're a voting American citizen, our private and personal and strictly family rows are none of your damn' business! All American citizens kindly applaud!" He was answered by cheers, stamping feet, and clapping hands. "Contrary-minded?" he invited in the silence that followed. "Hiss a few hisses, you snakes!" he urged.
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