“IT’S MY SHOUT!”

Evening Star, Issue 20020, 10 November 1928, Page 24

“IT’S MY SHOUT!”

AH EXAMPLE OF MOB PSYCHOLOGY [Written by Tal. Jouxston, for the ‘ Evening Star.’] Tho strong, silent man of Western novels is too well known to most readers of fiction to require any explanation. He is, as a rule, a tall, handsome personage with a cold and giittering eye, who by tho force of, his personality unaided quells a room full ot armed and whisky-maddened desperadoes. This is no mean leat. Yet the power to rule a mob lies dormant within most of us, and a few moments study of any American magazine will reveal quite a number of strong, silent men advertising their willingness to aid in the development of that power in you and me. Just fill in your name and address above tho dotted lines, cut out the coupon, and post it to the correct address, and you will receive, without obligation, the sixty-page booklet telling how for a small sum you may learn to Rule, to Acquire Personality, Punch, Pep, Pushtulness, Perspicacity, and all the other 100 per cent. American components that go to make the grand and rugged character of the gentleman whose face adorns the advertisement of your choice. This preamble is just a cloud of smoko to prove that there is some fire beneath, and by way of saying that tho little known science of mob psychology has more to it than hot air.

It \vas_ a little township in tho far north, with a sawmill and a freezing works in the middle distance, entirely surrounded by mud, mangrove swamps, mortgages, and mosquitoes, and having no claim to individuality beyond the fact that tho railway line ran right through the main street, so that guests of the local hotel were enabled to lean over the balcony and drop cigarette butts down the funnel of tho antiquatci locomotive when the daily train whizzo past. ft was a drowsy December mornim and having attended to the most excellcnt breakfast provided by mine •host, 1 strolled out to burn a pipeful on the shady verandah. There was but one other occupant of the worn and polished bench under the bar window, a largo and very depressed looking person with the earmark of our constabulary plainly to be seen upon him. He moved along to make room for me, responding to my casual greeting in such an abstracted manner that I turned to take a better look at him. Tho man was worried. There was no doubt about that. “What’s tho trouble?” I asked; “ Crime wave sweeping over the city, or anything liko that?” Ho smiled, and after a momentary hesitation told mo the whole tale.

Some few years before a young solicitor without tho means a of purchasing or setting up a business in the city had hung out n shinglo iu the little town and waited for tho local residents to bring their troubles to him. _ After a time ho managed to work up qiuto a fair amount of business, mostly commission work for city firms, I should imagine. Later, when the natives saw that he know tho legal game, ho got more business with Laud Court stuff and tho investment of_ money from land sales. Then tho mill men and freezing works people came to him with the contents of the old stocking to invest for them, so that in tho end there was hardly a man in the district who had not some interest in the little “shack” that served him for office.

Whether tho affair was premeditated or just tho decision of a moment it is hard to say, hut the investors found one bright morning that their one and only solicitor had fled, absentmindedly taking with him a pretty fair proportion of tho district’s wealth. They raved, swore, lamented, and finally mourned, thinking that their dross had gone from them for over.

They were justified in so thinking, for when, after many moons, tho law made a long arm and picked friend solicitor up iu .Sydney he M’as full of pleasant memories, some of them lamentably blurred, but regrettably short of coin. Tho neivs of tho capture was passed to tho little township, and the stricken people groaned afresh at this opening of old wounds. Then, as is the custom, tho local policeman journeyed to Xow South Wales to retrieve Ids old town-fellow, and my companion of tho verandah scat was sent from Auckland to relieve him of his duties in tho north. This iu itself was sufficient to cause a townsman to groan iu spirit, and when my companion inlonued nio-that he had served some time with the Glasgow police I sympathised with him oven more. Yet, knowing that it would take even more than that to discompose a conscientious officer of tho lan', I waited for further revelations.

“They are bringing that prisoner hack to-day,” ho said, “and I think there’s nasty trouble brewing I’ve handled the scum of the Glasgow docks and had some merry limes around the Auckland wharves, “hut I must admit I’m out of mv depth with this crowd. They’re too quiet, i understand a man that raves and struggles and threatens, but these big mill hands and slaughtermen arc as orderly as a congregation of Methodists.” ’ It appeared that tho victims of the absconder’s greed had ceased lamenting, and proceeded to form themselves into a deputation to welcome the long long lost member of their community, and that welcome wasn’t altogether in accordance with tho constable’s instructions regarding the disposition of tho prisoner. Tho deputation thought that an inquest would more definitely settle tho business, and with the rough generosity of their kind was determined to provide a ready subject for one. “Take a look at ’em,” invited tho constable. I looked around tho dour of the bar room, and was sufficiently impressed with tho spectacle. About forty large, able-bodied men had jammed themselves into the small space, producing a sorb of Black Hols of Calcutta effect, and there was little movement and no speech amongst them. Beyond the upward tilt of elbows and an occasional fumbling for watches they were still. But there was a look of grim purpose on each sun-tanned face, and a suggestive flexing of bulky muscles that boded little good for the man who came between them and their prey. 1 felt sorry for that policeman, and decided to ask if he had any messages ho would like me to deliver to his family in case of accidents.

“ What do you think of them?” he asked, when 1 had completed my survey. “Blood on the moon,” I answered succintly, “ they’re drinking themselves into a lovely mood for the job.” Tho poor man shook his head sadly. “I’ll have to have help!” ho said, and looked at me meaningly. A delightful little cold shiver trickled down my spine. I had thought the day much warmer. “Sorry! have important business up the line,” I offered casually, “otherwise I’d be delighted to chip in with you. Impossible, of course. Firm insist on my travelling to schedule. Couldn’t possibly delay] in fact, I’d better see about getting my gear packed right away.” I was side-stepping for the door as I spoke, but he fixed_me with a cold and disbelieving eye. ' “ There’s no tram till morning,” ho said firmly; “and, besides, I can call on yon in the name of the law.” “Oh. of course, if you put it that wa y. . . Perhaps I could wait at the lock-up and hold the door open—ur take the names aad addresses of £ha ringleaders* aftemaidau .1 could pe*

them all from tho balcony,” ! suggested hopefully, He failed to hear me, apparently. “ Tho local constable will bo in the carriage with the prisoner,” ho explained. “There will bo me and you on tho platform, and Jack Mack’s Dodge outside near the fence. Wo will hold the mob back. while the prisoner is escorted to tho car by way of two pickets removed from tho fence. Wo will rush him up to the lock-up, where the J.P. will bo waiting to near the charges, and he can bo rushed to the next station in the car when he is remanded to appear in Auckland.” “We will hold tho mob back,” is the only part of his remark that interested me at he moment. I could sec us doing it. This, I thought bitterly, is what comes of sympathising with despondent strangers. In the language of the classics, “Never no more! ” That is if l am spared to have similar opportunities. I spent tho rest of tho day until train_ time in preparing for tho fray, and in eleventh-hour repentance for a mis-spent life. _ My preparations consisted of the donning of my lightest shoes and tho removal from my person of anything calculated to impede me in action. A trial sprint at the back ot the hotel convinced me that I could do the hundred yards in ten dead if it came to tho point, but I was a bit doubtful about my wind for long distance work.

As train time drew near the populace repaired to tho station, the Reception Committee weaving its way to the® scene of action in portentous silence, and a disregard for tho presence of the constable and myself that was significant in its completeness. The Dodge car was to arrive as quictlv ns its engines would permit at the right moment.

They sav that some people feel a slight thrill of fear under the strain of waiting - for danger to approach. It would not ho correct to nso that word in my case. I noticed with relief that the mob had taken up a strategic position commanding tho conventional entrance to tho platform, leaving the loophole in the fence unguarded. I made hurried mental comnanson of its measurements

and tho dimension of my body at its greatest width. Thank goodness! there was room.

Tho engine puffed around the bend within half an hour of the scheduled time, grunted through the street, deluged the under side of the hotel balcony with a cloud of smoke, and passed the platform with its string of trucks and cars slowing down in clattering jerks. The mob swayed forward on to their toes like sprinters, and waited tensely. The constable growled low to mo: “Be ready!” And I was prepared to finish the command “ Off ’’ and carry it into execution, when the dusty door of the last carriage swung open, and prisoner and escort dropped lightly to the platform. Ho' was a little man, scarce live feet seven in height, but dressed like u rich Chinese fruiterer, and with a smile big enough for a giant. I had a vision of his remains when tho mob had finished with him, and shuddered at tho picture. Ho Mas not handcnffcd._ Stopping briskly out from our detaining hands, he faced the advancing mob that knvered at him across the few feet of asphalt. “ Pleased to sco you all again, boys,” Tie said, with tho smile still working, “ I’ve had a deuce of a good time. Come up and have a drink ivliile I tell you about it. It’s my shout!” Those big, husky chaps looked exactly as a man feels when ho steps over a gutter that’s not there. The issue was in doubt for a fow seconds; then the richness of it stirred tho_ sport in them. There was a howl of delight from forty throats, and tho next instant tho little solicitor was swept up by an avalanche of perspiring, laughing humanity, and hurried away to the bar. My friend, tho ex-Glasgow constable, turned to mo: “ I knew they was beyond me! ” ho affirmed, scratching his head. “ I thought thero’d bo murder done.” Ho hastened after his coleague, Mho was endeavouring to save his prisoner from being killed with kindness. (The Hud.)