Taylor’s smile as he looked at the men was still faintly ironic, and his eyes were agleam with a light that baffled the other men—they could not determine just what emotion they reflected.
And Taylor’s manner was as quietly deliberate and nonchalant as though he had merely stepped into the room for a social visit. His gaze swept the three men.
“Framing up—again, eh?” he said, with drawling emphasis. “You sure did a good job for a starter. I just stepped in to say a few words to you—all of you. To you first, Littlefield.” And now his eyes held the judge—they seemed to squint genially at the man.
“I happen to know that our big, sleek four-flusher here”—nodding toward Carrington—“came here to loot Dawes. Quite accidentally, I overheard him boasting of his intentions. Danforth was sent here by Carrington more than a year ago to line things up, politically. I don’t know how many are in the game—and I don’t care. You are in it, Littlefield. I saw that by the delight you took in informing me of the decision of the attorney-general. I just stepped in to tell you that I know what is going on, and to warn you that you can’t do it! You had better pull out before you make an ass of yourself, Littlefield!”
The judge’s face was crimson. “This is an outrage, Taylor!” he sputtered. “I’ll have you jailed for contempt of court!”
“Not you!” gibed Taylor, calmly. “You haven’t the nerve! I’d like nothing better than to have you do it. You’re a little fuzzy dog that doesn’t crawl out of its kennel until it hears the snap of its master’s fingers! That’s all for you!”
He grinned at Danforth, felinely, and the man flushed under the odd gleam in the eyes that held his.
“I can classify you with one word, Dave,” he declared; “you’re a crook! That lets you out; you do what you are told!”
He now ignored the others and faced Carrington.
His grin faded quickly, the lips stiffening. But still there was a hint of cold humor in his manner that created the impression that he was completely in earnest; that he was keenly enjoying himself and that he did not feel at all tragic. And yet, underlying the mask of humor, Carrington saw the passionate hatred Taylor felt for him.