"What?" said Black, turning in his chair.
The Mayor's tone gave Merriam some realisation of the seriousness of the new situation. But he could only stand to his guns.
"You're to sign! I don't care what Crockett said. I don't care a damn what he said," he corrected himself. "You do what I say, damn you!"
"But how is this?" exclaimed the Mayor. "Crockett said you fully agreed that the best interests----"
He stopped, looking intently at Merriam.
In the excitement of the dialogue which had followed Merriam's sending for Mollie June Rockwell had neglected the precaution he had had in mind of having only side lights on. Rockwell had planned, also, that Merriam should sit facing the gas log with his back to the room and look at the Mayor as little as possible. Now the boy stood where the full glare of the chandelier shone on his face. Perhaps, too, the emotions of a youthful love scene, such as he had just passed through, were not the best preparation in the world for counterfeiting the slightly worn cheeks and slightly tired eyes of an elderly if well-preserved politician.
"Who in hell are you?" gasped the Mayor.
Merriam was certainly startled. Perhaps he showed it just a little. But he stood up bravely.
"You know damn well who I am. And you do as I say or get out of Chicago politics. I'll attend to Crockett," he added. "That's my affair."
"Is that so? Well, I guess it's my affair who makes a monkey of me! I----"