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Mac sat as if frozen to stone. Ed and I sneaked out of the back
door on tiptoe to make for downstairs, three steps at a time. In
less time than it takes to tell it we were back, each with an armful
of paving-stones, which we piled up beside our agonized comrade,
assuring him volubly that there was no danger if he would only sit
still, still as a mouse, till we came back. Then we were off again.
The third trip gave us stones enough, and with infinite care we
piled them, one after another, upon the rack as the Captain eased
up, until at last he stood upon the floor, a freed and saved man.
It was only then that it occurred to us that we might have turned
off the gas in the first place, and so saved ourselves all our
anguish and toil.
I can say honestly that I tried the best I knew how to get along
with the politicians I served, but in the long run it simply could
not be done. They treated me fairly, bearing no grudges. But it is
one thing to run an independent newspaper, quite another to edit
an "organ." And there is no deceiving the public.


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