“You are insulting! Insolent!” Mr. Burmaster snapped. “But I’ll not be drawn into an argument with you. Good morning!”
Quigley blocked the door. “Not so fast,” he drawled. “Matter of fact, I was on my way to your house. Saw your car standing in Mrs. Lear’s yard, so I figured you were here.”
“If you have a telegram for me I’ll take it.”
“The only message I have is a verbal one,” answered Quigley. “Our mayor from Delta, Bradley Mason, asked me to talk to you about the Huntley Dam.”
“The subject doesn’t interest me.”
“It should interest every man, woman and child in this valley!” Quigley retorted. “If the dam gives way flood waters will sweep straight down the valley. Your house would be destroyed before you knew there was any danger!”
“Really?” Mr. Burmaster’s smile was a sneer. “Let me worry about my own property.”
“As a matter of record, I don’t lose any sleep over you,” Quigley responded heatedly. “But I am thinking about Mrs. Lear and the people living in Delta. Not to mention the towns on down the line which would be in the direct path of the flood.”
“If the good people of Delta are endangered why don’t they repair the dam themselves?”
“For the reason that we can’t raise the money. We’ve tried.”