218
FLAMING
YOUTH
The heavy voice of Dr. Osterhout penetrated to them, “All very well for the club. But I wouldn’t have the swine in my house.” To which Ralph Fentriss’s musical and tolerant tones replied: “Oh, you can’t judge a man solely on the basis of his business, can you, now?”
“If his business is that of a panderer, I can.” “Rough talk,” murmured Pat to Dee. “Who’s the accused?” “Because Peter Waddington’s newspaper,” put in Browning, “has violated some technical rule of the medical profession: fi “Technical nothing! It isn’t technicality. It’s ordinary law and order and decency. Look at that column. Abortionists, every one of ’em.” “Oh, myo-my!” whispered Pat, vastly enjoying this. “They’re waxing wroth.” “A very useful contribution to the social system,” said Jameson James in his precise enunciation, with a lift obviously intended to be humorous, “TI always understood that those fellows didn’t deliver the goods,” remarked Fred Browning carelessly. “Whether they do or not,” retorted Osterhout, “has nothing to do with the question. That thing”—he snapped his finger against the offending print—~“‘is an invitation to commit murder. But aside from that feature, if you men think that sort of stuff is decent to have lying around a house where there is a young girl 2 “Oh, Pat would never think of looking at it,” said her father easily. “If she did she wouldn’t know what it
meant.
It’s veiled.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” remarked Browning.
“Pat’s a wise kid.
Not much gets past her, nor any of
the girls of her age for that matter.”
