O. K.
H. R.,
_Sec._
"There!" said H. R.
Andrew Barrett read it. "If it was anybody else--" he muttered.
"Convey to your reporter friends that this is the biggest story of the
year. Particularly impress upon them that it is a secret!"
"I'll impress that on them, all right," promised Barrett, with profound
sincerity. "It is really pleasant not to have to lie."
H. R. rose and said: "I must get the other names. I have begun with the
Bishop. And he showed Barrett the signature of Dr. Phillipson.
"Why his?" asked Barrett.
"I expect him to officiate at my wedding. Also, he is a Conservative,
and Wall Street is for him, strong. Don't you see? Get the sandwiches
ready."
H. R. no longer bothered with details. He had discovered that by
resolutely expecting people to do things, people did them. Every eight
hundred and thirty-one years a man is born who can throw upon his
fellow-men the yoke of responsibility so that it stays put.
He decided that it would look well in print to play up the
non-sectarianism of the affair. He would therefore have the prominent
people meet in the Granite Presbyterian Church, attracting the
Presbyterians who otherwise might have objected to Bishop Phillipson's
leadership. But the meeting would be presided over by Bishop Barrows, a
Methodist. Bishop Phillipson would agree to this. Did not his name come
first in the stirring call to the metropolis?
But, of course, to give to the project an attractive and, indeed, a
compelling interest he would resort to the great American worship of
bulk. It must be big. It must be the biggest ever!