Donald took his religion seriously; he
was always shouting his anti-war sentiments in the name of Jesus,
which made him especially obnoxious. Now he saw a chance to get off
one of his theatrical stunts; he raised his two manacled hands into
the air as if he were praying, and shouted in piercing tones:
"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!"
A murmur started in the crowd; you could hear it mounting to a roar.
"Blasphemy!" they cried. "Stop his dirty mouth!" It was the same
mouth that had been heard on a hundred platforms, denouncing the war
and those who made money out of the war. They were here now, the men
who had been denounced, the younger members of the Chamber of
Commerce and the Merchants' and Manufacturers' Association, the best
people of the city, those who were saving the country, and charging
no more than the service was worth. So they roared with fury at this
sacreligious upstart. A man whose mask was a joke, because he was so
burly and hearty that everybody in the crowd knew him, took up the
bloody whip. It was Billy Nash, secretary of the "Improve America
League," and the crowd shouted, "Go to it, Billy! Good eye, old
boy!" Donald Gordon might tell God that Billy Nash didn't know what
he was doing, but Billy thought that he knew, and he meant before he
got thru to convince Donald that he knew.
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