“I’m not so sure his election was fair,” he repeated.
“What do you mean? Why wasn’t it?”
“What made Savage pull out just when he did? What made him try to throw his votes to Arlington? There was something behind it, and you know it.”
Although Brad had not noted the incident observed by Dick, when Savage was approached by a fellow who seemed to make a demand on him, against which he rebelled at first, but to which he finally succumbed, still the Texan had sense enough to reason it out that there had been an unusual cause back of the action of Savage in stepping out in favor of Arlington at that critical juncture.
“What do you think there was behind it?” asked Dick, curious to learn Buckhart’s opinion on the matter.
“Crookedness, crookedness!” exclaimed the Westerner, rising to his feet and beginning to tramp up and down the room. “I know it! I’m sure of it! I was sure of it all the time,” he went on, eager to say something to make his own act seem less heinous. “That is why I was determined that Arlington should not win if I could help it. I could have prevented it.”
“Dishonestly! Look here, Brad, I don’t think you realized just what you were doing.”
Dick attempted to place a hand on Buckhart’s shoulder, but it was brushed aside, and the Texan continued his excited striding up and down the room.
“Yes, I did!” he declared grimly. “I knew I was cheating—I knew it! I meant to cheat! I meant to beat Chet Arlington at his own game!”
“Which would have placed you on the same level with him.”