front of City Hall; and did His Honor “burn” at such an abomination?
“What? High School boys forcing young girls to drink? And right in our glorious Branton Hills? Oh, but, Doc! This can’t pass without a trial!”
“That’s all right, John; but a thorn sticks out, right in plain sight.”
“Thorn? Thorn? What kind of a thorn?” and our Mayor was flushing hard, as no kind of wild thoughts would point to any kind of thorns.
“That thorn,” said Wilkins, “is young Norman Antor; son of”
“Not of Councilman Antor?”
“I am sorry to say that it is so,” and Wilkins told of Virginia’s half-conscious murmurings. “And Nina wants to know why, with a patrolman in all parts of town, it isn’t known that all this drinking is going on. I didn’t say what I thought, but you know that a patrolman don’t go into dancing pavilions and night clubs until conditions sanction it.”
“Who is supplying this liquor?”
“Councilman Antor; but without knowing it.”
All His Honor could say was to gasp:—
“How do you know that, Doc?” and Wilkins
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