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Laird is giving us what we asked for, an honest administration." "Suppose, when Marrineal develops his plans, he comes to you, which would be his natural course, to handle the news end of the anti-Laird campaign. What would you do?" "Quit." Banneker sighed. "It's so easy for you." "Not so easy as you think, son.
Particularly if " Edmonds paused, hesitant. "If " prompted Banneker. "Fire ahead, Pop." "If Marrineal should declare in on the race for the governorship, next fall." "Without any state organization? Is that probable?" asked Banneker. "Only in case he should make a combination with the old ring crowd, who are, naturally, grateful for his aid in putting over Halloran for them.
"What's your diagnosis of Marrineal, then?" "A priest of Baal." "With The Patriot in the part of Baal?" "Not precisely The Patriot. Publicity, rather, of which The Patriot is merely the instrument. Marrineal's theory of publicity is interesting. It may even be true. Substantially it is this: All civilized Americans fear and love print; that is to say, Publicity, for which read Baal.
"These not b-being office hours, I have not the p-pleasure of your acquaintance." Marrineal smiled. "The p-pale rictus of the damned," observed Severance. "As one damned soul to another, I c-confess a longing for companionship of m-my own sort. Therefore I accept your invitation. Waiter, a Scotch h-highball." "We were talking of " began Banneker, when the newcomer broke in: "Talk of m-me.
Marrineal, with an instinctive leaning toward quackery, had forced upon her spouse. Appraising his prospective widow with an accurate eye, the dying man left a testament bestowing the bulk of his fortune upon his son, with a few heavy income-producing properties for Mrs. Marrineal. Tertius Marrineal was devoted to his mother, with a jealous, pitying, and protective affection.
Blackmail," philosophized the astute Ives, "is a gun that you've got to keep pointed all the time." "I see. So long as he has Bussey covered by the muzzle of The Patriot, The Searchlight behaves itself." "It does. But if ever he laid down his gun, Bussey would make hash of him and his lady-love." "What about her?" interrogated Marrineal.
Ives, it appeared, was in the secret of Marrineal's journalistic connection, the talk was resumed, becoming more general. Presently Marrineal consulted his watch. "You're not going up to the After-Theater Club to-night?" he asked Banneker, and, on receiving a negative reply, made his adieus and went out with Ives to his waiting car. Banneker and Edmonds looked at each other.
However, Marrineal made up for his editorial writer's lukewarmness, by the vigor of his own attacks upon Enderby. Enderby was organizing a strong campaign. So competent and unbiased an observer of political events as Russell Edmonds, now on The Sphere, believed that Marrineal would be beaten. Shrewd, notwithstanding his egotism, Marrineal entertained a growing dread of this outcome himself.
"Sentimentalism," observed Marrineal. "Not altogether original, either." But he did not speak as a critic. Rather as one pondering upon new vistas of thought. "Why shouldn't an editorial be sentimental about something besides the starry flag and the boyhood of its party's candidate? Original? I shouldn't worry overmuch about that. All my time would be occupied in trying to be interesting.
In that moment Banneker felt a surge of the first real liking he had ever known for his employer. Marrineal had been purely human for a flash. Nevertheless, in the first revulsion after the proprietor had left, Banneker's unconquered independence rose within him, jealous and clamant.
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