He had made his preparations for possible “accidents” in no happy mood. Fresh from the bedside of Ingolby, having had no sleep, and with many sick people on his list, he inwardly damned the foolishness of both towns. He even sharply rebuked the Mayor, who urged surgical preparations upon him, for not sending sooner to the Government for a force which could preserve order or prevent the procession.
It was while he was doing so that Jowett appeared with Gabriel Druse to interview the Mayor.
“It’s like this,” said Jowett. “In another hour the funeral will start. There’s a lot of Manitou huskies in Lebanon now, and their feet is loaded, if their guns ain’t. They’re comin’ by driblets, and by-and-bye, when they’ve all distributed themselves, there’ll be a marching column of them from Manitou. It’s all arranged to make trouble and break the law. It’s the first real organized set-to we’ve had between the towns, and it’ll be nasty. If the preelate doesn’t dope them, there’ll be pertikler hell to pay.”
He then gave the story of his visit to Monseigneur Lourde, and the details of what was going forward in Manitou so far as he had learned. Also the ubiquitous Osterhaut had not been idle, and his bulletin had just been handed to Jowett.
“There’s one thing ought to be done and has got to be done,” Jowett added, “if the Monseenoor don’t pull if off. The leaders have to be arrested, and it had better be done by one that, in a way, don’t belong to either Lebanon or Manitou.”
The Mayor shook his head. “I don’t see how I can authorize Marchand’s arrest—not till he breaks the law, in any case.”
“It’s against the law to conspire to break the law,” replied Jowett. “You’ve been making a lot of special constables. Make Mr. Gabriel Druse here a special constable, then if the law’s broke, he can have a right to take a hand in.”
The giant Ry had stood apart, watchful and ruminant, but he now stepped forward, as the Mayor turned to him and stretched out a hand.
“I am for peace,” the old man said. “To keep the peace the law must be strong.”
In spite of the gravity of the situation the Mayor smiled. “You wouldn’t need much disguise to stand for the law, Mr. Druse,” he remarked. “When the law is seven feet high, it stands well up.”