rew Kilgour.
Citizen Drew was the elderly man with the earnest face who had been
first to commend Farr that evening at City Hall when he and old Etienne
had made their pathetically useless foray against bulwarked privilege.
Folks in Marion who knew Citizen Drew had forgotten his given name.
In his propaganda of protest he called himself "Citizen." He built
carriage-tops in a little shop where there were drawers stuffed with
political and economic literature, and he read and pondered during his
spare hours.
Farr sought out Citizen Drew and sat at his feet, with open ears.
For Citizen Drew knew the political history of his state, the men
concerned, their characters, their aims, their weaknesses, their
virtues, their faults--especially did he understand their faults--their
affiliations with the Machine, their attitude toward the weak; he had
followed their trails as the humble hound follows big game.
Therefore, Farr, a stranger in that land, seeking knowledge with which
to arm his resolve, went and sat with Citizen Drew and learned many
things.
Sometimes loquacity carried Citizen Drew a bit afield from the highway
of politics, and when he touched on the case of Captain Andrew Kilgour
Farr's heart thumped and his eyes glistened. For Drew prefaced the bit
of a story with this:
"I never knew Symonds Dodd to do anything toward squaring a wrong he
had committed except when he gave Kate Kilgour a fine position in his
office. And there are those who say that he was only showing more of his
selfishness when he hired her; he wanted the prettiest girl in the city
to match his office furnishings."
"I have seen her," said Farr, trying to be matter-of-fact. "I--I sort of
wondered!"
"Her father was a friend of mine. He was a good man. And the
Consolidated money couldn't buy him. His people were Kilgowers in
Scotland and he was a man not given to much talk, but he was willing to
let me run on, nodding his head now and then while he smoked. He was
an honest man and the best engineer in the state, and he kept his own
counsel in all things. And he showed me the Kilgower coat of arms--and
he didn't show that to many. He was no boaster. He was proud of his
people, but he used to say that it made but little difference who the
ancestors were unless the descendants copied the virtues and tried to
improve over the faults. There was a Kilgower who went down across
the border and gave himself as a hostage so that the clan might
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