Free Rex Stout by The President Vanishes Page B

stopped and the banker had got out, choleric at the outrage. One of the men, pointing the rifle from his hip, said, “Open the door.” The banker, swearing adequately, did so. The man looked inside, yanked the cushion from the seat, and backed away pulling after him a traveling bag, which he opened, dumping the contents over the running-board and the oily pavement. He kicked the shirts and brushes and slippers around a little before he said, “Okay. You’d better learn some manners, mister.” The other man moved to the front of the car and remarked disparagingly, “These tires ain’t much good,” and pulled the trigger of the shotgun twice. That made four flats. The banker, gone from red to white, demanded to know where the town constable could be found. The man with the rifle said, “That’s me.” The banker called to his companion to wait here, walked down the street to a drug store, and telephoned the County Attorney in a nearby town. The County Attorney, after listening to the flood of demands, threats, and protestations, said that the best suggestion he could offer was for the banker to take the next train north; there would be one in about an hour.
    That, on that Wednesday, was one of the multitude of comic unnoticed episodes of the search for the President.

2
    Lewis Wardell did not go to bed from seven o’clock Tuesday morning until late afternoon of the following Friday. During that period he took two short naps on a couch in a room adjoining the office of the Chief of the Secret Service, but except for those snatches he was sleepless for over eighty hours.
    At five o’clock Tuesday afternoon the members of the Cabinet agreed unanimously upon the following points:
    1. The routine affairs of the Executive Offices would be handled by Secretary Brownell, and anything of urgency beyond routine would be referred by him to the full Cabinet.
    2. All phases and activities of the search for the President would be under the direction of Lewis Wardell, Secretary of the Interior, and he could be removed from that direction only by a majority of the Cabinet.
    3. The Cabinet would meet daily at nine in the morning during the emergency, and all members except Wardell agreed to be present. Secretary Brownell and Mrs. Stanley would have the status of members.
    4. The absence of the President was not a vacancy under the Constitution, and would not be considered to be so unless a majority of the Cabinet agreed.
    5. The confidential nature of facts learned, positions taken, and actions contemplated in Cabinet meetings was to be doubly inviolable during the emergency.
    These points were put in writing and initialed by all members. When it came his turn with the fountain pen Theodore Schick, Secretary of Commerce, hesitated. He had strenuously opposed Point 4, and had really not surrendered on it but had merely been overborne by numbers. Now he read it again, and shook his head.
    “How can I initial that?” he demanded.
    Lewis Wardell said, “It would seem to be necessary for each of us either to initial it or resign.”
    Schick smiled at him, then took the pen and added his TSto the row, observing, “I suppose there’s nothing very binding about it.”
    Billings muttered quite audibly, “Only to gentlemen.” There was a little stir, and Liggett mumbled to Billings something about the necessity for unanimity, but the latter muttered again audibly, “To hell with him.” The absence of the catalytic quality of President Stanley’s personality was already making itself evident.
    Lewis Wardell was through with that meeting. He was already on the telephone, speaking to the Chief of the Secret Service, telling him to collect his entire available staff immediately and await instructions and authority. He asked the Chief to hold the wire and called to the Attorney General: “Davis, come and tell Skinner I’m his boss. I’m going right over there.” He handed the phone to Davis and turned to the President’s secretary: