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:
"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:
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:
"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-gloved hand of the law.
The law blew its whistle, as the law always does in civilized communities.
Instantly, as though the whistle had been the cue, the stirring sound of galloping steeds smote the asphalt of Fifth Avenue.
"Let him go, Officer McGinnis," said Max Onthemaker, magnanimously. "We do not care to appear against him."
"Ain't he fine-looking?" a woman asked her companion, looking at the law. She even pointed at him.
Mr. McGinnis therefore haughtily said, "Resisting an officer--"
H. R. on horseback, in correct riding attire, following seven mounted traffic-squad men, appeared on the scene.
"There he is!" said Mr. Onthemaker to the reporters, dutifully yielding the center of the stage to its rightful possessor. After all, there was only one H. R., and both H. R. and Max Onthemaker knew it.