The flagged and slightly depressed space between these and the front of the building, while actually of private ownership, had long been regarded as part of the thoroughfare.  Overlooking it from the north end, opposite Hal’s office, was another window, in the reference room.  Any kind of gunnery from those vantage-spots would guard the press.  But would the mere threat of firing suffice?  That is what Hal wished to know.  He had no desire to pump bullets into a close-packed crowd.  On the other hand, he did not propose to let any mob ruin his property without a fight.  His military reverie was interrupted by the entrance of Bim Currier, followed by Dr. Elliot.

“Why the fortification?” asked the latter.

“We’ve heard rumors of a mob attack.”

“So’ve I. That’s why I’m here.  Want any help?”

“Why, you’re very kind,” began Hal dubiously; “but—­”

“Rope off that space,” cut in the brisk doctor, seizing, with a practiced eye, upon the natural advantage of the sentinel posts.  “Got any rope?”

“Yes.  There’s some in the pressroom.  It isn’t very strong.”

“No matter.  Moral effect.  Mobs always stop to think, at a line.  I know.  I’ve fought ’em before.”

“This is very good of you, to come—­”

“Not a bit of it.  I noticed what the ‘Clarion’ did to its medical advertisers.  I like your nerve.  And I like a fight, in a good cause.  Have ’em paint up some signs to put along the ropes.  ’Danger.’—­’Keep Out.’—­’Trespassers Enter Here at their Peril’; and that sort of thing.”

“I’ll do it,” said Hal, going to the telephone to give the orders.

While he was thus engaged, McGuire Ellis entered.

“Hello!” the physician greeted him.  “What have you got there?  Revolvers?”

“Count ’em; two,” answered Ellis.

“Gimme one,” said the visitor, helping himself to a long-barreled .45.

“Here!  That’s for Hal Surtaine,” protested Ellis.

“Not by a jug-ful!  He’s too hot-headed.  Besides, can he afford to be in it if there should be any serious trouble?  Think of the paper!”

“You’re right there,” agreed Ellis, struck by the keen sense of this view.  “If they could lay a killing at his door, even in self-defense—­”

“Pree-cisely!  Whereas, I don’t intend to shoot unless I have to, and probably not then.”

They explained the wisdom of this procedure to Hal, who reluctantly admitted it, agreeing to leave the weapons in the hands of Dr. Elliot and McGuire Ellis.

“Put Ellis here in this window.  I’ll hold the fort yonder.”  He pointed across the space to the reference room in the opposite L.  “Nine times out of ten a mob don’t really—­” He stopped abruptly, his face stiffening with surprise, and some other emotion, which Hal for the moment failed to interpret.  Following the direction of his glance, the two other men turned.  Dr. Surtaine, suave and smiling, was advancing across the floor.