THE MOHAMMEDANS
"Understand," he interposed, "I did not state that Mr. Wiley
Bey
was struck by an automobile. I merely said that he was as effectively
prevented from appearing here tonight
(J$
if
he were so struck." He
smiled benignly at the bucktoothed girl. "The difference, you will surely
grant, is by no means negligible. To begin with, Mr. Wiley Bey did not
receive notice of this meeting until today, a procedure which I regard
as highly unfair. Further-"
"Hold on," said the white-haired man at the head of the table. The
five men put their heads together for a moment:
"Do you mind stepping in here?"
Simon walked through the harrier that blocked off the interior of
the store into two parts. He threw off his cloak with a superb and slightly
ridiculous gesture, like an undersized. comedian playing bullfighter.
"Let's get this straight," said one of the board members. (A heavy
man, with blackrimmed glasses and kinky hair, he spoke with a slightly
Jewish intonation.) "As far as the board is concerned, this man's name
is
Wiley, Hadde Wiley. He's a neighborhood character. I remember
when he was leader of 5ome
~shy
pan-asia cult, in the old days, before
lie
became a Turk. Out to save ·the colored people through Japan and
physical culture."
"Mr. Wiley's past associations," said Simon, "do not in the least
affect the present circumstances."
"Okay. Have it your way. Officially we're through with him any·
way. We told him half a dozen times he's got to comply with the law
or take the consequences. The fact of the matter is that I wrote to him
myself, the board had nothing to do with it. I figured we could afford
to give him a last chance to straighten himself out."
By now, Simon was in an extraordinary state of controlled excite·
ment. With one eye he watched the door as men came in-there were
four of them now, sitting on the bench:_and with the other he observed
the faces of the members of the hoard. His mind had a curious clear
emptiness; above all, he was filled with the sense of his own
eloquence,
and hadn't the slightest notion of what to say!
"Are you finished?" he asked.
"Not yet. You can do us a favor by telling Wiley he's in a bad way.
That's no joke. He's been talking his followers into registering like he
did. According to the F.B.I., that's
conspiracy.
Do you know what that
means?"
Simon waved his hand deprecatingly: the point (with a little smile)
was conceded. There was a moment of silence. Then he put his finger
tips together and frowned portentously:
"I want it understood," he began, "that I come in no spirit of dis–
ruption or chicanery, but simply as an American citizen. Impelled by
my
desire for fairness and justice. What other connection could there
be
between this man and me? I am myself a Presbyterian, as was my
pndfather, the first mayor of this town. As for the army, I expect to
be
called at any minute, and when I am, I shall go gladly, you may
like my word for it. But what is the issue involved in this case? Surely
you do not
want
to see this man arrested? That would only reflect on
the
patriotism of this neighborhood."
