“She said she didn’t know; that nobody ever paid any attention to speed laws.”

“What about her license?”

“I asked her and she said it was none of my business.”

“Quite right,” approved Mr. Pierce curtly.

“Tell the desk to run the interview verbatim, under a separate head.  Will the nurse die?”

Mr. Pierce snorted contemptuously.  “Die!  She’s hardly hurt.”

“Dislocated shoulder, two ribs broken, and scalp wounds.  She’ll get well,” said the reporter.

“Now, see here, Surtaine,” said Douglas smoothly, “be reasonable.  It won’t do the ‘Clarion’ any good to print a lot of yellow sensationalism about this.  There are half a dozen witnesses who say it was the nurse’s fault.”

“We have evidence on the other side.”

“From whom?”

“Max Veltman, of our composing-room.”

“Veltman?  Veltman?” repeated Elias M. Pierce, who possessed a wonderful memory for men and events.  “He’s that anarchist fellow.  Hates every man with a dollar.  Stirred up the labor troubles two years ago.  I told my men to smash his head if they ever caught him within two blocks of our place.”

“Speaking of anarchy,” said McGuire Ellis softly.

“A prejudiced witness; one of your own employees,” pointed out the lawyer.

“I wouldn’t believe him under oath,” said Pierce.

“Perhaps you wouldn’t believe me, either.  I saw the whole thing myself,” said Hal quietly.

“And you intend to print it?” demanded Pierce.

“It’s news.  The ‘Clarion’s’ business is to print the news.”

“Then there remains only to warn you,” said Douglas, “that you will be held to full liability for anything you may publish, civil and criminal.”

“Take that down, Mr. Denton,” said Hal.

“I’ve got it,” said the reporter.

“That isn’t all.”  Elias M. Pierce rose and his eyes were wells of somber fury.  “You print that story—­one word of it—­and I’ll smash your paper.”

“Take that down, Mr. Denton.”  Hal’s voice was even.

“I’ve got it,” said Denton in the same tone.

“You don’t know what I am in this city.”  Every word of the great man’s voice rang with the ruthless arrogance of his power.  “I can make or mar any man or any business.  I’ve fought the demagogues of labor and driven ’em out of town.  I’ve fought the demagogues of politics and killed them off.  And you think with your little spewing demagoguery of newspaper filth, you can override me?  You think because you’ve got your father’s quack millions behind you, that you can stand up to me?”

“Take that down, Mr. Denton.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Then take this, too,” cried Elias M. Pierce, losing all control, under the quiet remorselessness of this goading:  “people like my daughter and me aren’t at the mercy of scum like you.  We’ve got rights that aren’t responsible to every little petty law.  By God, I’ve made and unmade judges in this town:  and I’ll show you what the law can do before I’m through with you.  I’ll gut your damned paper.”