“It’s rotten stuff to drink—­we all know that,” cried a voice.  “But there’ll have to be a change in politics in this state before they’ll give us anything else.”

Two policemen elbowed their rough way to Farr and Etienne.

“The big chap is right—­it’s about time to have this water question opened up, Mr. Mayor,” called another voice.

“Open it up in a legal and proper way, then,” snapped the mayor.  “Go to the law.”

“That’s it—­go to the law—­go to the law,” jeered another.  “And we’ll all be dead and the lawyers will have all our money before the thing is decided.”

There were more hisses.

But an outburst of indorsing voices indicated that many men in that chamber understood more or less of the political management behind the Consolidated Water Company.

“If a thing is wrong, change it.  What better law do you need than that?” asked Farr, disregarding an officer’s thumb that jerked imperious gesture.

“When you know a little more law you won’t be ignoramus enough to come into a public hearing and try to break it up.  You’d better go and study law,” said the indignant mayor.  He pounded his gavel to indicate that the recess was over.

“I’ll take your advice,” replied Farr, towering over the policeman and vibrating his finger at his Honor.  “If you hadn’t found law so handy in your own case you wouldn’t forget yourself in your excitement and recommend it to others.  If we’ve got to fight the devil we’d better use his weapons.”

Men shouted approval all around him.

“Clear the room,” ordered the mayor.  “Everybody out!”

“Keep your hands off,” Farr advised the officer nearest him.  “I’ll go without any help.  I have found out that I’m only wasting my time in this place.”

In the corridor men pressed around him.  Some of them insisted on shaking his hand.  Others shouted commendation.  Still others exhibited only frank curiosity in the stalwart stranger.  And others were clamorously hostile.

“By gad!  If you wanted to start something you took the right way to do it,” affirmed one of the throng.

“You showed good courage,” declared an elderly man with an earnest face.  “Some of the rest of us have tried to do something in the past.  But those who didn’t have much power were either kept out or kicked out of any office in city government or the legislature—­and those who did amount to something were gobbled up by the machine.  The machine can pay.  Working for the people isn’t very profitable.  So I’m afraid you won’t get very far.”

“You needn’t worry about that chap not getting along all right,” remarked one of the group—­but his indorsement was ironical.  “He’s a construction boss for the Consolidated, and he went into that hearing to start some kind of a back-fire.  Shrewd operators—­the Consolidated folks.”

The men about Farr pulled away from him and there was considerable malicious laughter in the crowd.