“Nobody's given me one yet,” replied Samuel. “That's what I came for.”
“Don't you get gay with me!” snapped the chief. But Samuel was far from the thought of getting gay with anyone—he was trembling in his boots. The man towered over him like a huge gorilla, and his red face was ferocious.
“Now look here, young fellow!” he went on. “You might as well get this straight. You'll get no permit to make any speeches in Lockmanville! D'ye see?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what's more, you'll not make any speech. D'ye see?”
“But—but—” gasped the boy.
And McCullagh shook his finger so that it almost hit Samuel's nose. “You'll not make any speech! You'll not make it on the street, and you'll not make it anywheres else in town! And you might as well get that through your nut and save yourself trouble. And if I hear of you givin' out any more papers on the street—you'll wish you hadn't—that's all, young fellow! D'ye see?”
“I see,” gasped Samuel.
“All right,” said the chief. “And if you take my advice, you'll get the first train out of Lockmanville and never show your face in it again. Now get out of here!”
And Samuel got out, and went down the street dumb with dismay. So they had got the police after him!