“Don’t I! At least I propose to try. See here, Waldemar; two months ago at a private dinner, Morrison made a speech in which he said that men who interfered with the rights of property, like Governor Arthur, were no better than anarchists and ought to be handled accordingly. Therefore, I don’t think that a plan—a safe one, of course—to put ‘Pharisee Phil’ away would greatly disturb our friend’s distorted conscience. You see, the governor has laid impious hands on Morrison’s holy of holies, the dividend. By the way, where is Governor Arthur?”
“On the train for this city. He’s to review the parade at the Harrisonia Centennial, and unveil the statute to-morrow night; that is, to-night, to be accurate.”
“A good opportunity,” murmured Average Jones.
“What! In the sight of a hundred thousand people?”
“That might be the very core of the opportunity. And at night.”
“If you feel certain, it’s a case for the police, isn’t it?”
“Hardly! The gambling gang control the police, wholly. They would destroy the trail at once.”
“Then why not warn the governor?”
“I don’t know him.”
“Suppose I make an appointment to take you to see him in the morning?”