“All right, I’ll come.”
Wint was in a cheerful humor, that morning. He had been depressed by his father’s attitude, disappointed that the elder Chase chose to oppose him. But at the same time, the opposition exhilarated him. After his father left the house, he went to see Joan for an hour; and without over-applauding the step he had taken, she spoke of the trouble and the opposition he would face, and the prospect pleased Wint. He took a cheerful delight in opposing people. He was never so good-natured as when he was fighting.
So Amos and Kite found Wint amiably glad to see them both. Amos sat on the broad window ledge, his back to the light, his face somewhat shadowed. Wint made Kite sit down near his desk; he himself tilted his chair back against one of the leaves of the desk, and put his feet on an open drawer, and asked what their errand was.
“Kite wanted to see you,” said Amos. “Asked me to come along.”
“No need of that, Kite.” Wint said good-naturedly. “I don’t keep an office boy. Anybody can see me any time.”
Kite shifted uneasily in his seat, not quite sure what he meant to say. Amos prompted him from the window. “Kite don’t think you ought to shut down on him,” he said.
Wint looked surprised. “Shut down on him? What’s the idea, Kite?”
Kite said, in a flustered way: “It’s not so personal as that. You know, I’m by conviction a believer in the sale of liquor. I believe the people of Hardiston agree with me. I’m sorry to hear you’ve taken steps to stop the sale.”
“Why, no,” said Wint cheerfully, “the town voted against it. I had nothing to do with that. I’m just enforcing the law.”
Kite smiled weakly. “There are laws, and laws,” he said. “Some laws are not meant to be enforced. The people of Hardiston objected to the open saloon; they did not object to the unobtrusive and inoffensive sale.”