Kite’s temper got away from him. “By God, he’d better let me alone!” He banged a clenched fist on the table. Routt drawled:
“Don’t get excited.”
“I’m n-not excited,” Kite stammered. “But he’ll let me alone. He don’t dare to bother me. Why, Routt, if he tries anything, I’ll—I’ll get out of town. I won’t live in the place. I’ll take my money out of the dirty little hole.”
“We-ell,” said Routt, “you could do that, of course. That would suit him. He’d get his own way, then. You could get out. Or you might fight him.”
“Fight him?” Kite snapped. “I’ll fight him to the last dollar.” He controlled himself with an effort. “But he’s not going to start anything. I know him. He’s inoffensive. A boy.”
“Amos Caretall is no boy,” Routt reminded him. “And Amos is backing him.”
Kite remembered that Winthrop Chase, Senior, had told him this same thing; had warned him that Amos meant to use Wint to clean up the town. He and Chase had made an alliance on that basis. If Wint tried a crusade, they would go after Amos together, and hang his hide on the fence. They had sworn that together.... Now Routt was saying the same thing. He had been feeling fairly secure; he and Chase had made no move. Chase had wanted him to start a back fire against Amos, but Kite had been ready to let well enough alone.... Now Routt ... Routt was one of Caretall’s men. He would be likely to know what the Congressman planned. Kite demanded angrily:
“What makes you think Amos is planning anything? He and I understand each other.”
Routt laughed. “Amos would double cross his best friend and call it a joke,” he said amiably. “You know that. Didn’t he double cross Chase?”
“Sure. I helped him,” said Kite defiantly.