The state senator lifted his brows ironically. "It's a large contract," he commented. "So you call on me to slip you the ace you need to fill. Well, I can't see it."
"Then I'll assist you. I expect you to remain, as you have shown yourself in the past, a practical man. I expect you to realize that you have more to gain by allying yourself with a victorious leader than in walking the plank at the heels of Malone and Harrison."
"I am so practical," the other reminded him, "that I want stronger evidence than mere assertion that you can overthrow these men."
"At all events I can overthrow you." The words were suddenly fierce.
Hamilton Burton spread on the table several sheets of paper, drawn from the breast-pocket of his evening-coat and previously from Ruferton's portfolio. "That memoranda in the hands of certain civic-reform societies would sound the death knell of your political future. You talk of what evidence you want—that would satisfy a grand jury."
The master schemer glanced hurriedly at the too-familiar contents of the typed pages and gasped.
"A half-million dollars!" he exclaimed weakly.
"Incontrovertible evidence," Hamilton assured him, "as to how you, while a member of the state senate, spent five hundred thousand dollars to secure the Coal and Ore charter. Malfeasance, bribery—you know the legal terms in which such conduct might be defined better than I."
For a moment Hendricks laughed—then with a well-simulated coolness he retorted. "A weapon hardly available to your hand, Mr. Burton. You will recall that I acted for you. To accuse me as agent would be to convict yourself as principal."
But Hamilton's laugh was the more confident.