"Can I help that?" the mayor demanded. "Was there anything about that in the agreement? I did my work. I want my pay. I'll have it, Mister Hayden."
Hayden's voice was cool and even as he spoke to Bland.
"Got the money, Joe?"
"Yes," Bland answered.
"Where?"
"Well—we'd better wait, hadn't we?" Bland's, voice was shaky.
"No. We'll take it and get out," answered Hayden.
"I want to see you do it," cried Cargan. "If you think I've come up here on a pleasure trip, I got a chart and a pointer all ready for your next lesson. And let me put you wise—this nobby little idea of yours about Baldpate Inn is the worst ever. The place is as full of people as if the regular summer rates was being charged."
"The devil it is!" cried Hayden. His voice betrayed a startled annoyance.
"It hasn't worried me none," went on the mayor. "They can't touch me. I own the prosecutor, and you know it. But it ain't going to do you any good on the avenue if you're seen here with me. Is it, Mr. Hayden?"