“Trouble is, there’s others will tell him to do the right thing.”
“You talk like James T. Hollow,” said Gergue. “Always trying to do what’s right.”
“I wonder,” said Amos casually, “whether them that tell him to keep straight figure he’ll do what they say?”
Peter understood that there was something back of the question; he studied Amos’s impassive face. Then he thought for a minute, and nodded his head.
“You mean Jack Routt,” he said.
“Yes,” the Congressman agreed.
Peter considered. “I don’t quite know about Jack,” he said. “He lets on to be Wint’s friend. But he don’t help Wint any. Jack’s got a way of telling Wint to do a thing that works the opposite every darned time.”
“I’ve a notion,” said Caretall, “that if Routt was to tell Wint to take care of his health, say, Wint’d go shoot himself, just to be different.”
“That’s right,” Gergue agreed; and the two men sat for a time without speaking, their pipes bubbling, the smoke drifting upward lazily.
“Question is,” said Caretall at last, “what are we going to do about it?” Gergue made no comment, and Amos asked: “What do you think, Peter?”