"Human lives, maybe. Isn't that matter enough?"
"That's only a guess. I've got to have time on this," insisted Hal. "It's the most vital question of policy that the paper has had to face."
"Policy!" grunted Ellis savagely.
"Besides, I've given my word to the Chamber of Commerce Committee that we wouldn't publish any epidemic news without due warning to them."
"Then it's to be killed?"
"'Wait for orders' proof," said Hal stonily.
"I might have known," sneered Ellis, with an infinite depth of scorn, and went to bear the bitter message to Wayne.
While the "Clarion" policy trembled in the balance, Dr. Surtaine's Committee on Suppression was facing a new crisis brought about by the striking down of Norman Hale, of which they received early information. Should he die, as was believed probable, the news, whether or not the full facts got into print, would surely become a focus for the propagation of alarmist rumors. In their distress, the patriots of commerce paid a hasty visit to their chief, craving counsel. Having foreseen the possibility of some such contingency, Dr. Surtaine was ready with a plan. The committee would enlarge itself, call a meeting of the representative men of the town, organize an Emergency Health Committee of One Hundred, and take the field against the onset of pernicious malaria. This show of fighting force would allay public alarm, a large fund would be raised, the newspapers would be kept in thorough subjection, and the disease could be wiped out without undue publicity or the imperiling of Old Home Week.
"What about the 'Clarion'?" inquired Hollenbeck, of the committee. "They're still holding off."
"Safe as your hat," Dr. Surtaine assured the questioner with a smile.