"I have the authority of a good witness--to wit, a man who saw the money paid."
"Whew! That's pretty hard to swallow. What is the man's name?"
"Clark--Jonas Clark."
"Who is he?"
"Why, he's a shining light in the Carpenters' Union. He's a decent chap who is a little carried away by the eloquence of the agitators, but he is all right. He has been a messenger back and forth between Bolton and some members of the Council, but he had the fault of being too scrupulous, and Bolton gave him the sack. So now he is employee number one of our detective bureau."
"Hm-m! And maybe you can give a guess why P. Bolton is putting up his good money for that crazy crowd? You are not trying to tell me it's a case of pure philanthropy?"
"That is what he wants them to believe. He told Clark that before he gave any money he must be satisfied that the aims and methods of the Council were for the benefit of the people."
"Oh, thunder! To think of P. Bolton playing a game like that! Well, did they satisfy him?"
"Clark took him any quantity of documents. They fed him first with the brotherhood-of-man and the one-for-all-and-all-for-one course of lectures. He thought there was too much milk-and-water about that, so they gradually worked up to the dynamiting of royal oppressors and the extinction of capitalistic robbers. At this he gave up some good coin--five hundred dollars, as near as I can learn--paid in person at midnight to three members of the Council of Nine."
Kendrick leaned back in his chair, and meditatively stroked his red side-whiskers once more, while the thoughtful wrinkles chased each other about his eyes.