“It’s a regular knock-out idea,” he said stiffly. “And I’m much obliged to you.”
They had turned back and were nearing the gate of the yard.
“I hope it will really help you—but be careful to avoid giving them an opening to bring a libel charge. Permit me to say that you have been making a splendid campaign.”
“Things do seem to be coming my direction. The way I threw Blind Charlie’s threat back into his teeth, that has made a great hit. I think I have him on the run.”
He hesitated, gave her a sharp look, then added rather defiantly:
“I might as well tell you that in a few days I expect to have Blake also on the run—in fact, in a regular gallop. That Indianapolis lawyer friend of mine, Wilson’s his name, is coming here to help me.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed.
“You’ll remember,” he continued in his defiant tone, “that I once told you that your father’s case was not your case. It’s the city’s. I’m going to put Wilson on it, and I expect him to clear it all up in short order.”
She could not hold back a sudden uprush of resentment.