A roaring mob came milling toward the platform.
"I'll be a martyr!" insisted the alien.
"I can't humor you to that extent," replied Morrison, in the tone of a father denying indulgence in the case of a wilful child.
He got between the man and the mob. He held Krylovensky from him with one hand and put up the other protestingly, authoritatively.
"No man that's a real man lets another man bang him in the face," declared
Lanigan with fury.
"That's a nice point, to be argued later by us when things are quieter,
Joe. Stand back!"
"I'm going to kill him even if you haven't got the grit to do it." Lanigan was showing the bitter disappointment of a worshiper kicking among the fragments of a shattered idol.
"I won't allow you to do that, Joe! A dead man can't answer questions. Stand back, all of you, I say!" He twisted the grip of his hand in the man's collar until Krylovensky ceased his struggles.
"Do you work in this city?" asked the mayor.
"He works in the Conawin," shouted Lanigan. "And I shook him down this evening for a gun, a knob-knocker, and a lot of red flags."