“Only in case he should make a combination with the old ring crowd, who are, naturally, grateful for his aid in putting over Halloran for them. It’s quite within the possibilities.”
“After the way The Patriot and Mr. Marrineal himself have flayed the ring?” exclaimed Io. “It isn’t possible. How could he so go back on himself?”
Edmonds turned his fine and serious smile upon her. “Mr. Marrineal’s guiding principle of politics and journalism is that the public never remembers. If he persuades the ring to nominate him, Enderby is the logical candidate against him. In my belief he’s the only man who could beat him.”
“Do you really think, Mr. Edmonds, that Judge Enderby’s help to the arrested women is a political move?”
“That’s the way it would be interpreted by all the politicians. Personally, I don’t believe it.”
“His sympathies, professional and personal, are naturally on the other side,” pointed out Banneker.
“But not yours, surely Ban!” cried Io. “Yours ought to be with them. If you could have seen them as I did, helpless and panic-stricken, with the horses pressing in on them—”
“Of course I’m with them,” warmly retorted Banneker. “If I controlled the news columns of the paper, I’d make another Sippiac Mills story of this.” No sooner had he said it than he foresaw to what reply he had inevitably laid himself open. It came from Io’s lips.
“You control the editorial column, Ban.”
“It’s a subject to be handled in the news, not the editorials,” he said hastily.