"What do you want?" asked my father.
"We have come to search for, and confiscate any, of the suppressed papers we may find here."
"Where's your warrant?" asked my father.
"I have it here," said the Inspector.
"Read it," said my father.
The Inspector read the warrant—it was to the effect that all shops and newsvendors were to be searched, and all copies of the suppressed newspapers confiscated.
"Well," said my father when the Inspector had finished reading. "This is the shop up to this door,"—pointing to one behind him,—"beyond this door is Liberty Hall, and through this door you will not go. Go ahead and search."
"We have no desire to enter Liberty Hall," said the Inspector.
"I don't doubt you," said my father, whereat we all grinned.
At an order from the Inspector one of the policemen began to search around the place where the papers were kept. He looked at my father standing in the doorway with his carbine, and for a moment we thought he was going to rush him. Perhaps visions of stripes danced before him; but, at an order from his superior he went on with his work. It was a good thing for him that he did so, as there were the best of shots present, with less than ten paces between him and them.