within the near range of the pestilence.  In the minds of the sufferers from these measures and of their friends, the “Clarion” was an enemy to the public.  But it was read with avid impatience, for Wayne, working on the principle that “it is news and not evil that stirs men,” contrived to find some new sensational development for every issue.  Do what the rival papers might, the “Clarion” had and held the windward course.

Representative Business, that Great Mogul of Worthington, was, of course, outraged by the publication.  Hal Surtaine was an ill bird who had fouled his own nest.  The wires had carried the epidemic news to every paper in the country, and Worthington was proclaimed “unclean” to the ears of all.  The Old Home Week Committee on Arrangements held a hasty meeting to decide whether the celebration should be abandoned or postponed, but could come to no conclusion.  Denunciation of the “Clarion” for its course was the sole point upon which all the speakers agreed.  Also there was considerable incidental criticism of its editor, as an ingrate, for publishing the article on Milly Neal’s death which reflected so severely upon Dr. Surtaine.  As the paper had been bought with Dr. Surtaine’s hard cash, the least Hal could have done, in decency, was to refrain from “roasting” the source of the money.  Such was the general opinion.  The representative business intellect of Worthington failed to consider that the article had been confined rigidly to a statement of facts, and that any moral or ethical inference must be purely a derivative of those facts as interpreted by the reader.  Several of those present at the meeting declared vehemently that they would never again either advertise in or read the “Clarion.”  There was even talk of a boycott.  One member was so incautious as to condole with Dr. Surtaine upon his son’s disloyalty.  The old quack’s regard fell upon his tactless comforter, dull and heavy as lead.

“My son is my son,” said he; “and what’s between us is our own business.  Now, as to Old Home Week, it’ll be time enough to give up when we’re licked.”  And, adroit opportunist that he was, he urged upon the meeting that they support the Health Bureau as the best hope of clearing up the situation.

Amongst the panic-stricken, meanwhile, moved and worked the volunteer forces of hygiene, led by the Reverend Norman Hale.  Weakened and unfit though he was, he could not be kept from the battle-ground, notwithstanding that Dr. Merritt, fearing for his life, had threatened him with kidnaping and imprisonment in the hospital.  At Hale’s right hand were Esme Elliot and Kathleen Pierce.  There had been one scene at Greenvale approaching violence on Dr. Elliot’s part and defiance on that of his niece when her guardian had flatly forbidden the continuance of her slum work.  It had ended when the girl, creeping up under the guns of his angry eyes, had dropped her head on his shoulder, and said in unsteady tones:—­