XLIII
You may believe that next morning my first thought was to get hold
of the "Times" and see what they had done to my prophet. Sure
enough, there he was on the front page, three columns wide, with the
customary streamer head:
MOB OF ANARCHISTS RAID ST. BARTHOLMEW'S
PROPHET AND RAGGED HORDE BREAK UP CHURCH SERVICES
I skimmed over the story quickly; I noted that Carpenter was
represented as having tried to knock down the Reverend Mr.
Simpkinson, and that the prophet's followers had assaulted members
of the congregation. I confess to some relief upon discovering that
my own humble part in the adventure had not been mentioned. I
suspected that my Uncle Timothy must have been busy at the telephone
on Sunday evening! But then I turned to the "Examiner," and alas,
there I was! "A certain rich young man," rising up to protect an
incendiary prophet! I remembered that my Uncle Timothy had had a
violent row with the publisher of the "Examiner" a year or two ago,
over some political appointment!
The "Times" had another editorial, two columns, double leaded.
Yesterday the paper had warned the public what to expect; today it
saw the prophecies justified, and what it now wished to know was,
had Western City a police department, or had it not? "How much
longer do our authorities propose to give rein to this fire-brand
imposter? This prophet of God who rides about town in a broken-down
express-wagon, and consorts with movie actresses and red agitators!
Must the police wait until his seditious doctrines have fanned the
flames of mob violence beyond control? Must they wait until he has
gathered all the others of his ilk, the advocates of lunacy and
assassination about him, and caused an insurrection of class envy
and hate? We call upon the authorities of our city to act and act at
once; to put this wretched mountebank behind bars where he belongs,
and keep him there."
There was another aspect of this matter upon which the "Times" laid
emphasis. After long efforts on the part of the Chamber of Commerce
and other civic organizations, Western City had been selected as the
place for the annual convention of the Mobland Brigade. In three
days this convention would be called to order, and already the
delegates were pouring in by every train. What impression would they
get of law and order in this community? Was this the purpose for
which they had shed their blood in a dreadful war--that their
country might be affronted by the ravings of an impious charlatan?
What had the gold-star mothers of Western City to say to this? What
did the local post of the Mobland Brigade propose to do to save the
fair name of their city? Said the "Times": "If our supine
authorities refuse to meet this emergency, we believe there are
enough 100% Americans still among us to protect the cause of public
decency, and to assert the right of Christian people to worship
their God without interference from the Dictatorship of the Lunatic
Asylum."
Now, I had been so much interested in Carpenter and his adventures
that I had pretty well overlooked this matter of the Mobland Brigade
and its convention. I belong to the Brigade myself, and ought to
have been serving on the committee of arrangements; instead of
which, here I was chasing around trying to save a prophet, who, it
appeared, really wanted to get into trouble! Yes, the Brigade was
coming; and I could foresee what would happen when a bunch of these
wild men encountered Carpenter's express wagon on the street!
