“Put 'em out, put 'em out.”
“Order, order,” called Garnett, pounding with his gavel. The whole Opera House was in an uproar.
But the interruption of the Governor's speech was evidently not unpremeditated. It began to look like a deliberate and planned attack. Persistently, doggedly, the group in the gallery vociferated: “Tell us how you bribed the delegates at Sacramento. Before you throw mud at the Railroad, let's see if you are clean yourself.”
“Put 'em out, put 'em out.”
“Briber, briber—Magnus Derrick, unconvicted briber! Put him out.”
Keast, beside himself with anger, pushed down the aisle underneath where the recalcitrant group had its place and, shaking his fist, called up at them:
“You were paid to break up this meeting. If you have anything to say; you will be afforded the opportunity, but if you do not let the gentleman proceed, the police will be called upon to put you out.”
But at this, the man who had raised the first shout leaned over the balcony rail, and, his face flaming with wrath, shouted:
“YAH! talk to me of your police. Look out we don't call on them first to arrest your President for bribery. You and your howl about law and justice and corruption! Here”—he turned to the audience—“read about him, read the story of how the Sacramento convention was bought by Magnus Derrick, President of the San Joaquin League. Here's the facts printed and proved.”
With the words, he stooped down and from under his seat dragged forth a great package of extra editions of the “Bonneville Mercury,” not an hour off the presses. Other equally large bundles of the paper appeared in the hands of the surrounding group. The strings were cut and in handfuls and armfuls the papers were flung out over the heads of the audience underneath. The air was full of the flutter of the newly printed sheets. They swarmed over the rim of the gallery like clouds of monstrous, winged insects, settled upon the heads and into the hands of the audience, were passed swiftly from man to man, and within five minutes of the first outbreak every one in the Opera House had read Genslinger's detailed and substantiated account of Magnus Derrick's “deal” with the political bosses of the Sacramento convention.