"Well," said the judge, "I don't owe science much. I'm against any experiments. Can't some one suggest something to do? Is it feasible to kidnap him?"
"Let me suggest something," said Madame le Claire hesitatingly. "In his Brassfield state he seemed to—to like me very much. In affairs concerning—that is, affairs relating to women—he seems less wary, to use Judge Blodgett's word, than he is on other lines. Maybe I could—could induce him to come. It seems a sort of—of questionable thing to do; but——"
"Questionable!" cried the judge, "questionable! Why, not at all. We must try it. I'll risk it!"
"If ve are to gif up te itea of vorking out the gase," acquiesced the professor, "vy I agree vith the chutche."
"That is," said the girl, "like the judge, you'll 'risk it.' Very brave of you both to 'risk' so much! As for me, I must ask for time to think over my own proposal, before I undertake to entrap this prominent business man at my apartments. I'm not so sure that I'll 'risk' it. And yet it seems the only way!"
Speaking of traps: The emissaries of the retail liquor dealers' association were engaged in a trapping enterprise of their own in the Turkish room at Tony's, at this very crucial moment. Fatty Pierson, and two fellow retailers, gentlemen of smooth-shaven face, ample girth, and that peculiar physiognomy which seems fitted to no artistic setting except a background of mirrors and glasses, and a plain foreground of polished wood, were arranging for a police policy to their liking, during the Brassfield administration.
"Colonel McCorkle," said Fatty, "is a mighty good man, and, while a church member, seems to be liberal. On the other hand, you're well known to be broad in your views, and you do things"—here Fatty's arm took in the bottles and the cigars with a sweeping gesture—"that he don't. You've got property rented for saloon purposes. We know you're a good man, Mr. Brassfield, but in such matters we saloon men have learned to be careful. A police force can make our business profitable or put us all dead losers, just as they're steered by the mayor. Now, what would be your policy?"
"I should expect," said Mr. Brassfield, "to give the city a good, conservative, business administration, and to make my oath of office my guide."
"Good!" said Fatty. "But we've all heard that before. Colonel McCorkle, or the Reverend Absalom McCosh, would say that."
"Well," said Brassfield, "now, definitely, what do you want? Anything reasonable and not contrary to law, you have only to ask for."