MacFarland was so disgusted with the objects of his tirade that he tried three times before he could fill his old briar pipe.
"Doctor, why don't you air these opinions where they will count?" asked Bobbie. "It's time to stop the graft."
"When some newspaper is brave enough to risk the enmity of church people, who don't know real conditions, and thus lose a few subscribers, or when some really charitable people investigate for themselves, it will all come out. The real truth of that quotation at the bottom of the Purity League letter should be expressed this way: 'Charity covers a multitude of hypocrites and grafters.' And to my mind the dirtiest, foulest, lowest grafter in the world is the man who does it under the cloak of charity or religion. But a man who proclaims such a belief as mine is called an atheist and a destroyer of ideals."
Burke looked at the old doctor admiringly.
"If there were more men like you, Doc, there wouldn't be so much hypocrisy, and there would be more real good done. Anyhow, I believe I'll look up this angelic Trubus to see what he's like."
He took up his night stick and started for the door.
"I've spent too much time in here, even if it was at the captain's orders. Now I'll go out and earn what the citizens think is the easy money of a policeman. Good night."
"Good night, my lad. Mind what I told you, and don't let those East Side goblins get you."
Burke had a busy night.
He had hardly been out of the house before he heard a terrific explosion a block away, and he ran to learn the cause.