If a man is going to take care of his life and property, he
must do it himself. He's buying back his self-reliance. Self-reliance is a
valuable property. He ought to pay something for it. Generally he has to
pay war or insurrection or bloody riot. In the present instance he's
getting off cheap."
He turned back from the open window. His eye traveled beyond Helen's trim
figure down the empty hall. "Wait right here, Jack," he shot over his
shoulder, and rushed along the hall and down the stairway before either
the young man or his sister could recover from their astonishment.
CHAPTER XX
THE PLAGUE OF COLD
Without pause, and three steps at a time, Darrow ran down three flights of
stairs. Then, recovering from his initial excitement somewhat, he caught
the elevator and shot to the street. There he walked rapidly to the
subway, which he took as far as City Hall Square. On emerging from the
subway station he started across for the _Despatch_ office as fast as he
could walk. By the entrance to the City Hall, however, he came to an
abrupt halt. From the open doorway rushed his friend, Officer Burns, of
the City Hall Station. The policeman's face was chalky white; his eyes
were staring, his cap was over one side, he staggered uncertainly. As he
caught sight of Darrow he stumbled to the young man and clung to his neck,
muttering incoherently. People passing in and out looked at him curiously
and smiled.
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