“And if I appealed to the Governor?”
“In the first place, he probably wouldn't see you. And if he did, he wouldn't do anything. He's not really the Governor, you know; he's a puppet put up there to fool you. He only moves when Harrigan pulls a string.”
“Of course I knew he was Old Peter's man,” said Hal. “But then”—and he concluded, somewhat lamely, “What can I do?”
A smile of pity came upon the reporter's face. “I can see this is the first time you've been up against 'big business.'” And then he added, “You're young! When you've had more experience, you'll leave these problems to older heads!” But Hal failed to get the reporter's sarcasm. He had heard these exact words in such deadly seriousness from his brother! Besides, he had just come from scenes of horror.
“But don't you see, Mr. Keating?” he exclaimed. “It's impossible for me to sit still while those men die?”
“I don't know about your sitting still,” said the other. “All I know is that all your moving about isn't going to do them any good.”
Hal turned to Edstrom and MacKellar. “Gentlemen,” he said, “listen to me for a minute.” And there was a note of pleading in his voice—as if he thought they were deliberately refusing to help him! “We've got to do something about this. We've got to do something! I'm new at the game, as Mr. Keating says; but you aren't. Put your minds on it, gentlemen, and help me work out a plan!”
There was a long silence. “God knows,” said Edstrom, at last. “I'd suggest something if I could.”
“And I, too,” said MacKellar. “You're up against a stone-wall, my boy. The government here is simply a department of the 'G. F. C.' The officials are crooks—company servants, all of them.”
“Just a moment now,” said Hal. “Let's consider. Suppose we had a real government—what steps would we take? We'd carry such a case to the District Attorney, wouldn't we?”