So they went down to the fire-engine house together, and they found the council room where Wint held court crowded with Hardiston folk who wanted to see what was going to happen. Radabaugh was there; and he told them Wint was in his office, in the rear. Kite bade Routt and Lutcher sit down. “I want to see the Mayor,” he told Radabaugh, in a peremptory tone. “Take me in.”
Radabaugh shifted the bulge in his cheek, and told Kite to stay where he was. “I’ll see if he wants to see you,” he said, and went into Wint’s office. A moment later, he appeared at the door and beckoned to Kite, and there was an instant’s hush in the big room as every one watched Kite go in. Then they began to whisper and talk together; and instantly were still again, trying to hear what Wint and Kite were saying. Radabaugh had shut the door behind Kite and stood, with his back against it, indolently studying the crowd.
They tried to hear; but they did not hear anything except a murmur of voices now and then. They could only guess at what had been said from what happened when Kite had been with Wint five minutes, or perhaps ten. At the end of that period, the door opened so suddenly that Radabaugh was thrown off balance. He stumbled to one side, and Wint came out and sat down at his desk. Kite was on Wint’s heels; he whispered to Wint fiercely, but Wint, without heeding Kite, said to the clerk:
“Call Lutcher’s case.”
And at that Kite looked at Wint for a moment with a red and furious face, and then he turned and bolted for the stairs and was gone.
Wint’s countenance was steady, his lips were white. He heard Radabaugh’s story of the arrest of Lutcher; and when it was done, he asked Routt, who was appearing for Lutcher, whether the man denied anything. Routt hesitated, uncertain what Kite would wish him to do. He whispered with Lutcher. Then he stood up and said:
“He has decided to plead guilty, your Honor.”
Wint nodded, consulted in a low voice with Foster, and said: “Two hundred and costs.”
That was all. While Routt and Lutcher arranged the payment of the fine, the crowd began to disperse, a few lingering in the hope of some fresh sensation. And those who lingered and those who went their way were agreeing, one with another, that this matter was not ended.
“Kite’s got something up his sleeve,” Gates told Bob Dyer. “You wait and see.”