His last speech had been a masterful deflection, successfully redirecting the crowd's fury toward Washington and the distant, untouchable Russell Warren.
But it wasn't enough.
The crowd had stopped throwing rocks at him, but their eyes were still filled with suspicion.
A young man shouted from the back of the crowd, "Ron, don't think you can clear your name just by pinning the blame on Warren! You signed a contract with that radical from Pittsburgh. You're selling Erie out to the socialists! You betrayed the principles of the Republican Party!"
The words were a sharp spike, puncturing the somber mood that had just begun to coalesce.
The anger, which had started to subside, now threatened to flare up again.
The crowd began to stir, their suspicious gazes once again fixed on Smith.
It was a dangerous sign.
Smith stood on the steps, looking from the red-faced young man to the shifty-eyed citizens around him.
'These people.'
Smith inwardly shook his head.
