So I stepped back into my taxi, and told the driver to
take the most direct route.
Meantime I kept watch for my friend, and I did not have to watch
very long. There was a crowd ahead, the street was blocked, and a
premonition came to me: "Good Lord, I'm too late--he's got into some
new mess!" I leaned out of the window, and sure enough, there he was
standing on the tail-end of a truck, haranguing a crowd which packed
the street from one line of houses to the other. "And before he got
half way to the Labor Temple!" I thought to myself.
I got out, and paid the driver of the taxi, and pushed into the
crowd. Now and then I caught a few words of what Carpenter was
telling them, and it seemed quite harmless--that they were all
brothers, that they should love one another, and not do one another
injustice. What could there have been that made him think it
necessary to deliver this message before breakfast? I looked about,
noting that it was the Hebrew quarter of the city, plastered with
signs with queer, spattered-up letters.
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