"You won't. The Sugar Creek Furniture Company is a year behind time; I thought it would go down last year. Then they bounced Fosdick, and it naturally picked up a little; but it's hard to overcome a bad start, Judge."
"I've politely turned over my court-room for a meeting of the furniture company employees this afternoon. Alec's going to holler; they say he's going to pitch into the traction company and dust off the banks and capital generally."
"Good for Alec! He'll do a good job of it. Shouldn't wonder if he'd lead a mob down Main Street, hanging all the merchants, bankers, and judges of courts."
"That would require more energy than Alec has; his love of the downtrodden is purely vocal."
The county treasurer who followed the judge found Amzi disposed to be facetious over the reports that other failures were likely to follow the embarrassment of the furniture company.
"Worst's over. Just a little flurry. When there's a rotten apple in the barrel, better get it out."
The treasurer jerked his head in the direction of the First National.
Amzi met his gaze, took the cigar from his mouth, and looked at the ash.
"Thunder! It's all right."
"How do you know that!"