He dragged a chair toward Luke's desk, turned it about, and sat down astride of it with his arms folded across its back.
A smile twitched at Luke's mouth.
"What way-station do you want to get off at?" he inquired.
"I don't want you to make a monkey out of the League," said Yeates. "I've been reading over your letters and interviews and things, and I think you ought to realize that this is a reform organization and not a bunch of Anarchists."
"You're a slow reader, Yeates. Haven't you been hearing these things talked over, too?"
Yeates blushed, but he did not flinch.
"Well, what if I have? The people I've heard talking are the people you've been slamming, and I want to tell you that those people are the backbone of this country."
"I haven't mentioned any names."
"Oh, don't think I'm a fool, Huber, and don't think these people are fools, either. Everybody knows. What do you do it for? It won't catch any votes, if that's what you want."
"I rather wanted to do some good."