"We—we are tottering on the verge of chaos!" added Markham, in a stage whisper.
I laughed at all this, for I enjoyed it hugely.
"Spare yourselves any needless worry about me, gentlemen," said I. "Look to home, and you will probably find enough there to fret your consciences."
Professor Quinn continued to take pleasure out of the queer situation.
"I can honor a man like Munn," said he, "where I am tempted to despise men like you, Gilhooly, Meigs, Markham, and Popham. As Munn said, he has the courage of his convictions. He does not take from the poor, for in the very nature of things he cannot. His loot comes from those who are able to lose it, while you are vampires, and sapping the very lifeblood of the nation. You are all criminally deluded, although, perhaps, doing what you conscientiously believe to be exactly right. Would to Heaven," and here the professor grew suddenly sincere and intensely earnest, "that something would conspire to open your eyes to the exact truth. But I have despaired of that, and I am trying, in my own feeble way, to meet the present emergency."
"You are either a fool or a madman!" cried Popham.
"A rattle-brained zealot!" chimed in Meigs.
"You are the one who should see things differently," said Markham. "You preach a doctrine which you fail to apply personally."
"Enough of this talk, gentlemen," I interposed. "My situation is precarious and I must ask you to hurry a little."
"Sir," shouted Popham, leveling a forefinger at me, "I shall see you properly jailed for this. Why, you miserable footpad, I can——"