"Oh, put things straight," said Stensland. "Here, Mr. Editor; you've stirred up a lot of trouble and lost a lot of advertising by it. Now, you start an epidemic scare and kill off the biggest retail business of the year, and you won't find an advertiser in town to stand by you. Is that plain?"
"Plain coercion," said Hal.
"Call it what you like," began the apostle of frankness, when Hollenbeck cut in on him.
"No use getting excited," he said. "Let's hear Mr. Surtaine's views. What do you think ought to be done about the Rookeries?"
In anticipation of some such question Hal had been in consultation with Dr. Elliot and the health officer that morning.
"Open up the Rookeries to the health authorities and to private physicians other than Dr. De Vito. Call Tip O'Farrell's blockade off. Clean out and disinfect the tenements. If necessary, quarantine every building that's suspected."
"Why, what do you think the disease is?" cried Hollenbeck, taken aback by the positiveness of Hal's speech.
"Do you tell me. You've come here to give directions."
"Something in the nature of malaria," said Hollenbeck, recovering himself. "So there's no call for extreme measures. The Old Home Week Committee will look after the cleaning-up. As for quarantine, that would be a confession. And we want to do the thing as quietly as possible."
"You've come to the wrong shop to buy quiet," said Hal mildly.