"I knew nothing of the kind!" Whitburn blustered, showing, under the
bluster, fear. "Yes, I demanded this man's resignation on the morning
of October Seventeenth, the day after this incident occurred. It had
come to my attention on several occasions that he was making wild and
unreasonable assertions in class, and subjecting himself, and with
himself the whole faculty of this college, to student ridicule. Why,
there was actually an editorial about it written by the student editor
of the campus paper, the _Black and Green_. I managed to prevent its
publication...." He went on at some length about that. "If I might be
permitted access to the drawers of my own desk," he added with
elephantine sarcasm, "I could show you the editorial in question."
"You needn't bother; I have a carbon copy," Dacre told him. "We've all
read it. If you did, at the time you suppressed it, you should have
known what Doctor Chalmers said in class."
"I knew he'd talked a lot of poppycock about a man who was still
living having been shot to death," Whitburn retorted. "And if
something of the sort actually happened, what of it? Somebody's always
taking a shot at one or another of these foreign dictators, and they
can't miss all the time.
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