“I’m going to offer to be interviewed on his program.”
Berk whistled. “Brother, that’s the equivalent of putting your head into the lion’s mouth clear down to your ankles. You know how they can murder you on those so-called interviews. You’re up there like a mounted insect with a pin stuck right through your middle. You don’t say a word. If you do, they shout you down with accusations of every sort. Baird’ll take the hide off you!”
“I don’t think so,” said Mart. “It’s pretty tough to tear off.”
Baird was more than delighted with the suggestion. Mart had the impression that the commentator could scarcely refrain from baring his teeth. Momentarily, he almost wished he had accepted Berk’s warning.
“I would like it to take place as soon as possible,” he said. “Before the completion of the hearings.”
“Tonight,” said Baird. “I’ll scrap my whole program for this evening and give you a chance to state your case to the whole country.”
Mart nodded. “I’ll meet you at the studio.”
He didn’t require any preparation. He knew exactly what he wanted to say. It was only a matter of keeping Baird from mangling his whole story. It was obvious that he was going to try.
He sat Mart at a bad angle, to begin with, so that his face was away from the cameras, and only Baird could make direct appeal to those who watched and listened. As soon as they were on the air, Mart shifted his chair so that he faced the camera squarely. Disconcerted, Baird was forced to shift or appear to be sitting behind Mart. He shifted.
He opened with a stream of talk that gave the audience a none too subtle view of the difficulties that television commentators endure in the course of their public service work. The impression was left that Dr. Martin Nagle was among the most difficult crosses that any commentator had to bear.