The worn horses went dispiritedly up and down; the
throaty-voiced men clamored strangely through their beards; children
played in the black ooze of the gutters; women bundled in immense
knitted garments and with their heads wrapped in shawls, haggled over
scatterings of faded, weak looking vegetables. The vendors grew
frantic and eloquent in their combats with these experienced
purchasers; their gestures were high, sharp and loaded with protest.
Then Pendleton came. He was burdened with newspapers and wore an
excited look.
"I brought these, thinking that perhaps you had not seen them," he
exclaimed, throwing the dailies among the others upon the floor. "But
I note that your morning's reading has been very complete. Now tell
me, Kirk, what the mischief do you think of all this?"
"I suppose, you refer to the published reports of the Hume case?"
"Of course! As far as I am concerned, there is not, just now, any
other thing of consequence on earth." Then he struck the table with
his fist. "And it's all the fault of that cur--Allan Morris! Every bit
of it! There is not a space writer or amateur detective on a single
paper in the city that hasn't his nose to the ground at this minute,
hunting the trail.
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