"It is all for effect," said Mr. Paca; "to get clients, to get prominence; down in his heart he has the same view as we have."
"That's it," said Mr. Cole, who was a bit the worse for liquor. "The fellow isn't honest."
"Who is not honest?" asked a medium-sized, heavy-set man of twenty-five, who had entered the room unnoticed.
"You!" returned Cole. "You don't believe what you say; you are playing to the rabble."
Chase looked at Cole closely for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders.
"I do not argue with a drunken man, much less quarrel with one," he said. "Do any of you other gentlemen endorse his words?"
"Not as spoken," said Mr. Paca; "but what we did say, is that we do not endorse your course as an official. You are the Public Prosecutor, and we do not approve of the way you use your office.—That we said, and that we stand behind."
"I am very sorry if I have not pleased you," said Chase, indifferently, taking a chair beside Paca; "I understand that a public official is a free subject for criticism, and the public may impugn his motives and his judgment—with that I find no fault."
"You said I was drunk," exclaimed Cole.
"Did I?" said Chase. "Well, you're not—you're not. I was mistaken. I apologize."