Now was the Cedar Mountain House in peril, for Shay's support was essential. At a word from him, the police might call the club a disorderly house, and order it shut up. The fact that Squeaks was a governor strengthened the probability of drastic action. On the other hand, Squeaks as police magistrate, could restrain the police for a time or discover flaws in as many indictments as were brought up. The District Court could, of course, issue a warrant over the head of the police magistrate; but the Court of Appeals was friendly to Squeaks and would certainly quash the warrant; so that, for the time being the many unpleasant possibilities simply balanced each other, and the club went on in a sort of sulphurous calm like that before a storm.
Then came an exciting day at the club. By an unusual chance both Shay and Squeaks met there and the inevitable clash came. Angry words passed and Shay shouted: "Ye dirty little sneak, I'll fix ye yet!" Squeaks, cool and sarcastic, said: "Why don't ye do it now?" Shay rushed at him with a vigorous threat, and would have done him grievous bodily injury but for the interference of Hartigan and others. Shay waited at the gate for Squeaks, but the Judge slipped out the back way and disappeared.
It was Bud Towler who called on the Judge with a letter from Boss Shay, demanding the return of certain personal papers and authorizing said Bud to receive them. To which Judge Squeaks replied: "He better come for them himself. He knows where I live. I'll be home every night this week."
And thither that night with two friends went Shay. It was a very simple lodging. These men habitually avoid display. The janitor knew all too well who Shay was.
"Is Squeaks at home?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"I'm going up to see him, and if I lay him over my knee and spank him till he squeals, ye needn't worry; it's nothing." Then up went Shay, while his friends stayed below, one at the front of the house and the other in the lane that commanded the back.
The trembling janitor heard the heavy foot go up the wooden stairs; he heard a voice, then a crash as of a door forced open, then heavy steps and a pistol shot. A window was opened behind the house, and something was thumped down into the back yard. A little later, the boss came hurriedly down the stairs. The timid janitor and his trembling wife saw the big man step out with a bundle under his arm. Then all was still.
After twenty minutes of stupefaction, they began to realize that they should go up to the Judge's room. They mounted the stairs together, carrying a lamp. The door had, evidently, been forced. The room was in some disorder; the drawers of the desk were open, and papers scattered about. On one or two of the papers was fresh blood. The window was closed, but not fastened; the end of the curtain under it seemed to give proof that it had recently been opened. On the sill was more fresh blood.
There was no sign of the Judge.