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Reeve, Arthur B. (Arthur Benjamin), 1880-1936

"The Dream Doctor"


"Evidence of chlorate-of-potash mixture," Kennedy muttered to
himself, still examining the bomb. "The inside was a veritable
arsenal--a very unusual and clever construction."
"My heavens!" breathed Carton. "I would rather go through a
campaign again."


XVII
THE BOMB MAKER

We stared at each other in blank awe, at the various parts, so
innocent looking in the heaps on the table, now safely separated,
but together a combination ticket to perdition.
"Who do you suppose could have sent it?" I blurted out when I
found my voice, then, suddenly recollecting the political and
legal fight that Carton was engaged in at the time, I added, "The
white slavers?"
"Not a doubt," he returned laconically. "And," he exclaimed,
bringing down both hands vigorously in characteristic emphasis on
the arms of his office chair, "I've got to win this fight against
the vice trust, as I call it, or the whole work of the district
attorney's office in clearing up the city will be discredited--to
say nothing of the risk the present incumbent runs at having such
grateful friends about the city send marks of their affection and
esteem like this.


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