said, "What's the
matter?"

"These men have no right to use our name. We did not authorize them. We
wish them stopped from using our firm's name for--er--advertising
purposes. It's against the law. I'll make a complaint against them. Stop
'em!"

Max Onthemaker came forward, his face pale with determination. Four
reporters trailed along.

"Touch these gentlemen at your peril!" he said to the policeman. "Here
is a sworn copy of the statute referred to by that person." He shoved a
typewritten document under the officer's nose. There were two seals on
it; one was in anarchistic red and the other in Wall Street gold.

"Observe," pursued Mr. Onthemaker, impressively and very distinctly,
that the reporters might not misquote, "that the statute says _the name
of a living person_ must not be used. But Valiquet's is a corporation.
Do you get that, officer? A _corporation_!"

The officer read the newspapers. He knew what corporations were. They
bought votes for the Republicans; and, besides, they only paid the men
higher up. He therefore informed Mr. MacAckus:

"I can't do not'n."

"And even if you could, officer," said Mr. Onthemaker to the reporters,
"the magistrate would let them go with a reprimand for you. We are ready
for him." Then he said to MacAckus: "Get out of the way, or I'll have
you arrested for blocking traffic, causing a crowd to collect, for
assuming that you own the sidewalk, and for interfering with honest
working-men who are trying to earn a peaceful living. Also for
oppressing the poor. We have not asked you for money. We do not wish
your charity." He paused, and, shaking a finger at Mr. MacAckus, said,
loudly, "_We spurn your tainted money!_"

H. R. had not made a mistake in picking out this man to represent the
society. Indeed, one reporter, in a stage whisper, actually hissed:

"_Bribery!_"

The officer looked at Mr. MacAckus and said, "Please move on, sir."

"That's polite enough," said one of the reporters, making a note of it.
But Mr. MacAckus said:

"Why, you infernal--"

"_Move on!_" said the cop.

"I am Mr. MacAckus, of Valiquet's--"

"Tell him who you are, officer," said the diabolic Onthemaker, guessing
the cop's nationality.

"I am Mr. McGinnis, of the thirty-first precinct."

People began to clap their hands--people who never went into Valiquet's.
Mr. McGinnis thereupon laid a hand proudly on Mr. MacAckus's arm.

Mr. MacAckus lost his head; that is, he shook off the white-