“Why, if you print this sort of thing, you’d have my office mobbed,” he cried indignantly.
“It’s possible.”
“It’s outrageous! And this—if this isn’t an incitement to lynching—You wouldn’t dare publish this!”
“Try me.”
Major Bussey’s wizened and philanthropic face took on the cast of careful thought. At length he spoke with the manner of an elder bestowing wisdom upon youth.
“A controversy such as this would do nobody any good. I have always been opposed to journalistic backbitings. Therefore we will let this matter lie. I will kill the paragraph. Not that I’m afraid of your threats; nor of your pen, for that matter. But in the best interests of our common profession—”
“Good-day,” said Banneker, and walked out, leaving the Major stranded upon the ebb tide of his platitudes.
Banneker retailed the episode to Edmonds, for his opinion.
“He’s afraid of your gun, a little,” pronounced the expert; “and more of your pen. I think he’ll keep faith in this.”
“As long as I hold over him the threat of The Patriot.”