By this time, every one in the auditorium was on the edge of their seats, actually quivering with excitement. It was like a mad-house when the meeting was finally adjourned. People stood on their seats, waving hats and handkerchiefs, and cheering Henry and Olinski.
That night stands out in my mind as one of gradually accumulating excitement. The demonstration ending in the wildest sort of clamor, and a general rush for the stage, to congratulate my brother and his co-worker, I became separated from my party. Jane disappeared from my view as completely as though she had dropped through a trap-door in the floor.
Pat, somehow, lost sight of Prince Matani in the crush. I don't think she minded much, or she may have lost him intentionally. I spent ten excited and violent minutes looking for her and Jane. When I finally reached the lobby, there I found Pat talking to McGinity, as calmly as you please, and she looked entirely happy. After a quick and agitated good-night, he left her in my care, and dashed off to the Daily Recorder office, to write what he termed a "new lead" for the second edition. During the demonstration, he had despatched his copy, page by page, by messenger boy, from the press table.
Pat and I had to literally fight our way through the milling thousands, outside the NRC Building, to reach our car, in a nearby parking space. We found Jane in the car. She acted rather peevish, and steadily persisted in saying that it was my fault that we had become separated. There we waited a full hour for Henry. At last, I left the car to look for him.
Suddenly, I was caught in a crowd that had broken through the police lines. A stout man collided with me, and knocked me down; then some one ran over me as I lay on the pavement. I believe the crowd would have trampled me to death then and there if a policeman had not rescued me. Then Olinski came rushing up to me. I must have presented a queer sight to him, my hat at a strange angle and my clothes mussed up.
"Where's Henry?" I gasped.
"In a telephone booth, in the lobby, hiding from the crowd," Olinski replied, breathlessly. "The crowd insists on carrying us both around on its shoulders, like a hero aviator, or a victorious football player. I've just escaped by the merest chance. Better get back to your car, and wait."
He dashed off, and I returned to the car. Another half hour, and still no sign of Henry. I was beginning to be quite alarmed when he appeared, at last, accompanied by a young man.
"Bob!" exclaimed Pat, when she saw them coming.
Sure enough, it was McGinity. Henry had waited until he had cleaned up on his story, and was now taking him to our country place to spend the night. It was plain to see Henry had formed a sort of attachment for the young reporter. As it turned out, McGinity was to be a valuable ally the next day.