suspicious that Mr. Mix wasn't always
as pious as he appeared in church. He had noted, too, that although
Mr. Mix's name was frequently listed on committees, yet it never
bobbed up in connection with an obscure cause, however worthy, or
among the names of unimportant citizens. He was convinced that Mr. Mix
had an ulterior motive--political, social, financial--but the worst of
it was that Mr. Mix had come with support which couldn't be
sidetracked.

The Mayor shook himself, and went over to his telephone; a few minutes
later the Chief of Police strolled in, and grinned at the disordered
semi-circle of chairs. "Been holdin' a prayer-meetin', Mr. Rowland?"

The Mayor was biting his moustache. "Sit down, Chief. I want some
advice.... Lord, I wish Barklay wasn't off on his vacation.... Why,
I've just had a threat from this Reform League."

"Threat? What kind of a threat?"

The Mayor didn't reply immediately; he continued to chew his
moustache. "You know that fool Sunday law--was passed 'way back in the
year One?"

"Sure. 147. Dead letter."

"They say it's got to be enforced."

The Chief laughed boisterously. "That's a big order."

"I know it is. The mass of the people don't want it--never did. But in
these days there isn't a Councillor _I_ know'd put a motion to repeal
it, or amend it. Probition's scared 'em. They don't know _what_ the
people want, so they're laying mighty low.... Same time, this League's
getting pretty strong. Mix, and John Starkweather's sister, and
ex-Senator Kaplan, Richards of the First National, Dr. Smillie of the
Church crowd, old man Fredericks of National Metal--know what they
handed me today?"

"Let her come."

The Mayor snorted with disgust. "Hinted if I didn't begin enforcement
day after tomorrow they'd appeal to the Governor.... Lord, I wish
Barklay was here."

The Chief grinned again. "I know what Barklay'd say."

"What?"

"Give 'em rope."

"We-ll ... that's easy enough to _say_."

"Easy to do, too."

"I can't see it. But if they go up to the Governor, with a petition to
investigate--and the state law's pretty rough--and start impeachment
proceedings--"

The Chief spat contemptuously. "Shucks, give 'em rope."

"Well--_how_?"

"Why, _enforce_ the damn' law--just once. Spike Mix's guns--he's only
doin' this on a bluff. Guess he wants the reform vote for Council, or
somethin'. Keep it under our bonnets, and send out a squad of
patrolman Sunday afternoon to raid every t