The door was slightly ajar, leaking cigar-smoke and oratory, the
latter all Sheridan's, and Gurney listened.
"No, sir; no, sir; no, sir!" he heard the big voice rumbling, and
then, breaking into thunder, "I tell you NO! Some o' you men make
me sick! You'd lose your confidence in Almighty God if a doodle-bug
flipped his hind leg at you! You say money's tight all over the
country. Well, what if it is? There's no reason for it to be tight,
and it's not goin' to keep OUR money tight! You're always runnin'
to the woodshed to hide your nickels in a crack because some fool
newspaper says the market's a little skeery! You listen to every
street-corner croaker and then come and set here and try to scare ME
out of a big thing! We're IN on this--understand? I tell you there
never WAS better times. These are good times and big times, and I
won't stand for any other kind o' talk. This country's on its feet
as it never was before, and this city's on its feet and goin' to stay
there!" And Gurney heard a series of whacks and thumps upon the desk.
"'Bad times'!" Sheridan vociferated, with accompanying thumps.
"Rabbit talk! These times are glorious, I tell you! We're in the
promised land, and we're goin' to STAY there! That's all, gentlemen.
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