country. Why, they can—” 

 “Well, if a minority of foreigners can put over a revolution against the will of the American people, we ought to shut up shop, Eddie.” 

 “You’re not afraid?” 

 “No.” 

 “You mean you wouldn’t fight it?” 

 “You bet your life I’d fight it,” said Mr. Cord, gayly, “but I fight lots of things without being afraid of them. What’s the use of being afraid? Here I am sixty-five, conservative and trained to only one game, and yet I feel as if I could manage to make my own way even under soviet rule. Anyway, I don’t want to die or emigrate just because my country changes its form of government. Only it would have to be the wish of the majority, and I don’t believe it ever will be. In the meantime there is just one thing I am afraid of—and that’s the thing that you and most of my friends want to do first—suppressing free speech; if you suppress it, we won’t know who wants what. Then you really do get an explosion.” 

 Eddie had got Mr. Cord to be serious now, with the unfortunate result that the older man was more shocking than ever. 

 “Free speech doesn’t mean treason and sedition,” Eddie began. 

 “It means the other man’s opinion.” 

 There was a pause during which Eddie became more perturbed and Mr. Cord settled back to his habitual calm. 

 “Wouldn’t you suppress anything?” Verriman asked at length, willing to know the worst. “Not even such a vile sheet as Liberty?” 

 “Do you ever see it, Eddie?” 

 “Read a rotten paper like that? Certainly not. Do you?” 

 “I subscribe to it.” And, bending down, Mr. Cord unlocked a drawer in his desk and produced the issue of the preceding day. 

 “I notice you keep it locked up,” said Eddie, and felt that he had scored. 

 Prev. P 23/53 next