While the “Clarion” policy trembled in the balance, Dr. Surtaine’s Committee on Suppression was facing a new crisis brought about by the striking down of Norman Hale, of which they received early information.  Should he die, as was believed probable, the news, whether or not the full facts got into print, would surely become a focus for the propagation of alarmist rumors.  In their distress, the patriots of commerce paid a hasty visit to their chief, craving counsel.  Having foreseen the possibility of some such contingency, Dr. Surtaine was ready with a plan.  The committee would enlarge itself, call a meeting of the representative men of the town, organize an Emergency Health Committee of One Hundred, and take the field against the onset of pernicious malaria.  This show of fighting force would allay public alarm, a large fund would be raised, the newspapers would be kept in thorough subjection, and the disease could be wiped out without undue publicity or the imperiling of Old Home Week.

“What about the ’Clarion’?” inquired Hollenbeck, of the committee.  “They’re still holding off.”

“Safe as your hat,” Dr. Surtaine assured the questioner with a smile.

“At the meeting you told us you couldn’t answer for your son’s paper,” Stensland recalled.

“I can now,” said the confident quack.  “Just you leave it to me.”

He went direct to the “Clarion” office, revolving in his mind the impending interview.  For the first time since the tragedy he anticipated a meeting with his son without embarrassment, for now he had a definite topic to talk about, difficult though it might be.

Finding Hal at the editorial desk he went direct to the point.

“Boy-ee, the epidemic is spreading.”

“I know it.”

“I’m going to take hold of the matter personally, from now on.”

“In what way?”

“By organizing a committee of one hundred to cover the city and make a scientific campaign.”

“Are you going to let people know that it’s typhus?”

“Sh-sh-sh!  So you know, do you?  Well, the important thing now is to see that others don’t find out.  Don’t even whisper the word.  Malaria’s our cue; pernicious malaria.  What’s the use of scaring every one to death?  We’ll call a public meeting for next week—­”

“Publicity is the last thing you want, I should think.”

“Semi-public, I should have said.  The epidemic has gone so far that people are beginning to take notice.  We’ve got to reassure them and the right kind of an Emergency Health Committee is the way to do it, Belford Couch is working up the meeting now.  I’ve kept him over on purpose for it.  He’s the best little diplomat in the proprietary business.  And Yours Truly will be elected Chairman of the Committee.  It’ll cost us a ten-thousand-dollar donation to the fund, but it’s worth it to the business.”

“To the business?  I don’t quite see how.”