“Yes,” retorted Simpson; “and a sermon you’ll do well to listen to. Apart from any consideration of right or wrong, nothing hurts our cause like violence—I think we’ve found that out—and the fellow who advocates violence or assists in it is an enemy and not a friend. And I haven’t the slightest doubt,” he added, wheeling upon Bassett, “that it was this fellow here who was responsible for that fire at the stock-yards.”
Bassett, his face white and drawn with passion, could only sputter inarticulately for a moment. Then, by a mighty effort, he regained control of himself.
“You’re pipin’ a different tune,” he sneered, “from what you did when you first come down here. Why? Have you been seen, like Nixon was? Have you got a wad of railroad money in your pocket?”
“Sergeant-at-arms,” called Simpson, “this fellow is not a member of this lodge. Remove him, so that the meeting can proceed.”
Then Simpson sat down and awaited the event with serene confidence. For, as has been stated, he had been in just such a position more than once before, and he had planned carefully to meet this crisis. The sergeant-at-arms, instructed beforehand in his duties, summoned two assistants and advanced upon Bassett. For a moment, it was evident that that individual meditated resistance; then, as he sized up the three stalwart men confronting him, he realized the futility of it.
“All right,” he said; “I’ll go. But don’t put your hands on me—I won’t stand that. An’ I just want to say one thing: you’ll all of you regret this night’s work.”
And catching up his overcoat, he followed the sergeant-at-arms to the door, which closed after him a moment later.
The night’s experience had sobered him, but nevertheless he reeled slightly as he went down the stairs—not with intoxication, but with a kind of vertigo of rage. He paused at the foot of the stairs to recover himself.
“They framed it up on me!” he muttered to himself. “The hounds! To think of their framin’ it up on me!”
And he got out his handkerchief and mopped his forehead with shaking hand. Then, entering the saloon on the ground floor of the building, he asked for two quart bottles of whiskey.