“To cope with the health situation of the city.”

“Very well.  Now we’re getting somewhere.  Where’s Dr. Merritt?  I think we ought to hear from him on that point.”

Murmurs of assent were heard about the room.  Dr. Surtaine rose to his feet.

“If I may be pardoned for speaking to a motion of which I am a part,” he said in his profound and mellow voice.

“I think I can throw light upon the situation.  Quite a number of us have observed with uneasiness the increase of sickness in Worthington.  Sensationalists have gone so far as to whisper that there is an epidemic.  I have myself made a rigid investigation.  More than this, my son, Mr. Harrington Surtaine, has placed the resources of the ‘Clarion’ staff at our disposal, and on the strength of both inquiries, I am prepared to assure this gathering that nothing like an epidemic exists.”

“Well, I am damned!” was McGuire Ellis’s astounded and none too low-voiced comment upon this bold perversion of the “Clarion” enterprise.  Stretching upward from his seat he looked about for Hal.  The young editor sat in a far corner, his regard somberly intent upon the speaker.

“Alarm there has undoubtedly been, and is,” pursued Dr. Surtaine.  “To find means to allay it is the purpose of the meeting.  We must remove the cause.  Both our morbidity and our mortality rate, though now retrograding, have been excessive for several weeks, especially in the Rookeries district.  There has been a prevalence of malaria of a severe type, which, following last winter’s epidemic of grip, has proven unusually fatal.  Dr. Merritt believes that he can wipe out the disease quietly if a sufficient sum is put at his disposal.”

This was not authoritative.  Merritt had declined to commit himself, but Dr. Surtaine was making facts of his hopes.

“In this gathering it is hardly necessary for me to refer to the municipal importance of Old Home Week and to the damage to its prospects which would be occasioned by any suspicion of epidemic,” continued the speaker.  “Whatever may be the division of opinion as to methods, we are surely unanimous in wishing to protect the interests of the centennial celebration.  And this can best be done through a committee of representative men, backing the constituted health authorities, without commotion or disturbance.  Have I answered your doubts, Mr. Willard?” he concluded, turning a brow of benign inquiry upon that gentleman.

“Not wholly,” said Festus Willard.  “I’ve heard it stated on medical authority that there is some sort of plague in the Rookeries.”

A murmur of inquiry rose.  “Plague?  What kind of plague?”—­“Who says so?”—­“Does he mean bubonic?”—­“No doctor that knows his business—­“—­“They say doctors are shut out of the Rookeries.”—­“Order!  Order!”

Through the confusion cleaved the edged voice of E.M.  Pierce, directed to the chairman: 

“Shut that off.”