full of hostile faces.

"If any man in the Service," he said slowly, "can be shown to be
dishonest, no punishment can be too severe for him." Jim paused and then
went on, half under his breath as if he had forgotten his audience. "The
strength of the pack is the wolf. It's disloyalty in the pack that's
helping the old American spirit down hill."

The Secretary's eyes deepened but he repeated, quietly, "And as to
_your_ graft, Mr. Manning?"

Jim hesitated and whitened again under his bronze. If ever a man looked
guilty, Jim did.

There was at this point a sudden scraping of a chair, the clatter of an
overturned cuspidor and a stout, elderly man at the rear of the room
jumped to his feet.

"Mr. Secretary," he cried, "may I say a word?"

"Who are you?" asked the Secretary.

"I'm a New York lawyer, but I know the Projects like the back of me
hand. And I know Jim Manning as I know me own soul. You've let everyone
have free speech here. Manning didn't know till this minute that I was
in town. My name is Michael Dennis, your honor."

The Secretary smiled ever so slightly as he glanced from Jim's face to
that of the speaker. Jim's jaw was dropped. He was shaking his head
furiously at Uncle Denny while the latter nodded as furiously at Jim.

"Mr. Manning seems unwilling to speak for himself. Since you know him so
well, Mr. Dennis, we'll hear what you have to say. You may be seated,
Mr. Manning."

Jim moved back to his place reluctantly and Uncle Denny made his way to
the front, talking as he went.

"Of course, he won't speak for himself, Mr. Secretary. He never could.
Still Jim we call him. Still Jim they name him on all the Projects and
Still Jim he is here before this crowd of mixed jackals and jackasses.
He never could waste his energy in speech, as I'm doing now. I've often
thought he had some fine inner sense that taught him even as a child
that if it's hard to speak truth, its next to impossible to hear it. So
he just keeps still.

"You've heard him accused of graft, Mr. Secretary, and of inefficiency
and of any other black phrase that came handy to these people. Your
honor, it's impossible! It's not in his breed of mind! If you could have
seen him as I have! A child of fifteen working in the pit of a
skyscraper and crying himself to sleep nights for memory of his father
he'd seen killed at like work, yet refusing money from me till I married
his mother and made him take it. If you had seen him out on your