CHAPTER XX. — JUDGE HARDIN MEETS HIS MATCH.—A SENATORIAL ELECTION.—IN A MARIPOSA COURT-ROOM.—THE TRUST FULFILLED AT LAGUNITAS.
"You need not trouble yourself about my political aspirations, sir," haughtily remarks Hardin, glaring at the stolid visitor, who calmly continues.
"I don't allow no trouble, Jedge," Woods drawls. "I'll play my cards open. I run this here joint convention, which makes or breaks you. I'm dead-flat plain in my meaning. I can burst up your election as United States Senator, unless you and me can make 'a deal.'"
"Your terms?" sneers Hardin, with a glance at Joe's hand in his pocket, "Toujours pret" is Joseph's motto.
"Oh, my terms! I'll be open, Jedge. I leave this here lawsuit between us, to our lawyers. I will fight you fair in that. You will find me on the square."
"Do you threaten me, sir?" demands Hardin.
"Now, make your own game." Joe's brow darkens. "Hardin, I want you to hear me out; you can take it then, in any shape you want to. Fight or trade." Woods' old Missouri grit is aroused.
"Go on," says Hardin, with a rising gorge.