“Watches the circulation only,” said Edmonds. “Thus far,” he added.
“You’re looking for an ulterior motive, then,” interpreted Miss Van Arsdale.
“I’m looking for whatever I can find in Marrineal, Miss Van Arsdale,” confessed the patriarch of the office. “As yet I haven’t found much.”
“I have,” said Banneker. “I’ve discovered his theory of journalism. We three, Edmonds, Marrineal, and I, regard this business from three diverse viewpoints. To Edmonds it’s a vocation and a rostrum. He wants really, under his guise as the most far-seeing news man of his time, to call sinners against society to repentance, or to force repentance down their throats. There’s a good deal of the stern evangelist about you, you know, Pop.”
“And you?” The other’s smile seemed enmeshed in the dainty spiral of smoke brooding above his pursed lips.
“Oh, I’m more the pedagogue. With me, too, the game is a vocation. But it’s a different one. I’d like to marshal men’s minds as a generalissimo marshals armies.”
“In the bonds of your own discipline?” asked Miss Van Arsdale.
“If I could chain a mind I’d be the most splendid tyrant of history. No. Free leadership of the free is good enough.”
“If Marrineal will leave you free,” commented the veteran. “What’s your diagnosis of Marrineal, then?”
“A priest of Baal.”