“I have made no alteration in my diet,” he said, and then, with the air of one who wrenches himself away from an engrossing subject, “There seems to be an unusual supply of liquor in Gibeon to-day.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve noted a dozen men on the street this morning who are indicative of the fact.”
“Where do they get it?”
As she turned to ask the question, she saw his face change, saw a glint of determination in his really fine eyes; saw his chin jut forward and the muscles just under his jaw bunch into little white knots. “I don’t know,” he said, “but I’m going to find out.”
Here was a new man, a man she had not seen. This new man was as revealing as that indomitable man she had seen fighting a futile fight with Deputy Jenney.
“If I can find out who dispenses liquor in town,” he said, “that will be a step toward discovering where the dispensers get it. It will be climbing the first round of the ladder.”
For an instant she was about to tell him what she had discovered, but it was vanity which stopped her. It was her discovery, her “beat,” and she wanted to surprise everybody with it.
“Whose business is it to stop this liquor traffic?” she asked.
“First, it is the business of the law-enforcement officials of this county—the sheriff and his subordinates. This is a prohibition state and has been for years. Second, it is the business of Federal enforcement officials.”