For years he drifted about the
world a haggard cynical figure who got drunk whenever money came his
way and who would do anything to break the monotony of existence.
Mosby was enthusiastic about the Marching Men idea. He saw in it an
opportunity to worry and alarm his fellow men. He talked a union of
bartenders and waiters to which he belonged into giving the idea a
trial and in the morning they began to march up and down in the strip
of parkland that faced the lake at the edge of the First Ward. "Keep
your mouths shut," commanded Mosby. "We can worry the officials of
this town like the devil if we work this right. When you are asked
questions say nothing. If the police try to arrest us we will swear we
are only doing it for the sake of exercise."
Mosby's plan worked. Within a week crowds began to gather in the
morning to watch the Marching Men and the police started to make
inquiry. Mosby was delighted. He threw up his job as bartender and
recruited a motley company of young roughs whom he induced to practise
the march step during the afternoons. When he was arrested and dragged
into court McGregor acted as his lawyer and he was discharged. "I want
to get these men out into the open," Mosby declared, looking very
innocent and guileless. "You can see for yourself that waiters and
bartenders get pale and stoop-shouldered at their work and as for
these young roughs isn't it better for society to have them out there
marching about than idling in bar rooms and planning God knows what
mischief?"
A grin appeared over the face of the First Ward.
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