"Not built----" He now first observed that Katherine was smiling.
"What do you mean?"
"Just what I said. That my story is not based on Mr. Stone's testimony."
There were exclamations from Mr. Brown and Blind Charlie.
"Eh--what?" said Blake. "But you hired Stone as a detective?"
"And he was eminently successful in carrying out the purpose for which I hired him. That purpose was to be watched, and bought off, by you."
Blake sank back and stared at her.
"Then your story is based----"
"Partly on the testimony of Doctor Sherman," she said.
Blake came slowly up to his feet.
"Doctor Sherman?" he breathed.
"Yes, of Doctor Sherman."
Blind Charlie moved quickly forward.
"What's that?" he cried.
"It's not true!" burst from Blake's lips. "Doctor Sherman is in Canada!"
"When I saw him two hours ago he was at his wife's bedside."
"It's not true!" Blake huskily repeated.
"And I might add, Mr. Blake," Katherine pursued, "that he made a full statement of everything--everything!--and that he gave me a signed confession."
Blake stared at her blankly. A sickly pallor was creeping over his face.
Katherine stood up.
"And I might furthermore add, gentlemen," she went on, now also addressing Blind Charlie, "that I know all about the water-works deal, and the secret agreement among you."
"Hold on! You're going too far!" the old politician cried savagely.
"You've got no evidence against me!"
"I could hardly help having it, since I was present at your proceedings."
"You?"
"Personally and by proxy. I am the agent of Mr. Seymour of New York.
Mr. Hartsell here, otherwise Mr. Manning, has represented me, and has turned over to me the agreement you signed to-day."
They whirled about upon Manning, who continued unperturbed in his chair.
"What she says is straight, gentlemen," he said. "I have only been acting for Miss West."
A horrible curse fell from the thick, loose lips of Blind Charlie Peck. Blake, his sickly pallor deepening, stared from Manning to Katherine.
"It isn't so! It can't be so!" he breathed wildly.
"If you want to see just what I've got, here it is," said Katherine, and she tossed the bundle of proofs upon the desk.
Blake seized the sheets in feverish hands. Blind Charlie stepped to his side, and Mr. Brown slipped forward out of his corner and peered over their shoulders. First they saw the two facsimiles, then their eyes swept in the leading points of Billy Harper's fiery story. Then a low cry escaped from Blake. He had come upon Billy Harper's great page-wide headline:
"BLAKE CONSPIRES TO SWINDLE WESTVILLE; DIRECT CAUSE OF CITY'S SICK AND DEAD."
At that Blake collapsed into his chair and gazed with ashen face at the black, accusing letters. This relentless summary of the situation appalled them all into a moment's silence.
Blind Charlie was the first to speak.
"That paper must never come out!" he shouted.
Blake raised his gray-hued face.
"How are you going to stop it?"
"Here's how," cried Peck, his one eye ablaze with fierce energy. "That crowd at the Square is still all for you, Blake. Don't let the girl out of the house! I'll rush to the Square, rouse the mob properly, and they'll raid the office, rip up the presses, plates, paper, every damned thing!"
"No--no--I'll not stand for that!" Blake burst out.
But Blind Charlie had already started quickly away. Not so quickly, however, but that the very sufficient hand of Manning was about his wrist before he reached the door.
"I guess we won't be doing that to-night, Mr. Peck," Manning said quietly.
The old politician stood shaking with rage and erupting profanity. But presently this subsided, and he stood, as did the others, gazing down at Blake. Blake sat in his chair, silent, motionless, with scarcely a breath, his eyes fixed on the headline. His look was as ghastly as a dead man's, a look of utter ruin, of ruin so terrible and complete that his dazed mind could hardly comprehend it.
There was a space of profound silence in the room. But after a time Blind Charlie's face grew malignantly, revengefully jocose.
"Well, Blake," said he, "I guess this won't hurt me much after all. I guess I haven't much reputation to lose. But as for you, who started this business--you the pure, moral, high-minded reformer----"
He interrupted himself by raising a hand.
"Listen!"
Faintly, from the direction of the Square, came the dim roar of cheering, and then the outburst of the band. Blind Charlie, with a cynical laugh, clapped a hand upon Blake's shoulder.
"Don't you hear 'em, Blake? Brace up! The people still are for you!"
Blake did not reply. The old man bent down, his face now wholly hard.
"And anyhow, Blake, I'm getting this satisfaction out of the business.