“Sure I remember,” Kite agreed. “That’s why I’ve come to you. Want to get together with you. That was our understanding. I’m going to skin Amos Caretall. Are you with me? That’s the question.” He was shrewd enough to rouse Chase against Amos, not against Chase’s own son. And Chase considered the matter, inwardly hurt and sorry because Wint had not confided in him, and boiling with jealous hostility toward Amos.
“All right,” he said at last. “You see I was right. What are we going to do?”
“Do?” Kite snapped. “We’re going to make Amos run to cover. That’s what we’re going to do.”
“After all,” Chase reminded him, “I’m a dry man. I can’t fight Amos on that issue.”
“Dry?” Kite demanded. “What of it? What’s that got to do with it? This is politics. Amos is no more dry than I am; but he plays the dry game because that’s politics, and there are votes in it. He’s trying to steal your thunder, Chase. If Amos grabs the dry vote, where do you come in? I tell you, we’ve got to lick him, man.”
“How?” Chase asked at last. “What are we going to do?”
“First thing,” Kite said, “is to get after Wint.” He had been ready with the answer to this question. “Caretall is using Wint. Making a tool of him. A scapegoat. Wint doesn’t know his own mind. Caretall’s using him. We’ve got to get him out of Caretall’s hands. Get him to work with you. You’re his father. He ought to want to work with you. Oughtn’t he?”
“He and I—understand each other,” Chase said. He was not at all sure this was true, but he could not confess to Kite that he and Wint were less than confidants.
“Sure,” Kite agreed. “Naturally. So the first thing to do is for you to go to Wint and tell him what he’s up against. How he’s being manipulated. Get him to rescind the order. Then we’ll go after Amos, with Wint helping us, and clean him up.”
“I don’t know,” said Chase reluctantly.