“Oh,” says I, “then Genz hasn't been here?”
“Yes,” says he, “he has. I reckon you folks have 'most spoiled Genz's usefulness for me.”
“You're taking it mighty easy,” I told him.
“Yep. Isn't it all in the game? What's the use of getting excited because you've blocked us on one precinct? We'll leave that closet out of our calculations, that's all.”
“Almighty Powers, I don't mean that! Didn't Genz tell you—”
“About Mr. Knowles and the Herald? Oh, yes,” he answered, knocking the ashes off his cigar quietly. “And about the thousand votes he'll gain? Oh, yes. And about incidentally showing you and Crowder up as bribing Genz and promising to protect him—making your methods public? Oh, yes. And about the Grand Jury? Yes, Genz told me. And about me and the penitentiary. Yes, he told me. Mr. Knowles is a rather excitable young man. Don't you think so?”
“Well?”
“Well, what's the trouble?”
“Trouble!” I said. “I'd like to know what you're going to do?”
“What's Knowles going to do?”