"Not on your life! We turned it once! And that was one too many."
"We had bad luck, that's all. Just a li'l hard luck. Look here, didn't Simon say either Bill or one of his deputies were always snooping round his ranch? All right, what more do we want? We can fix it so's to get rid of two birds at a clip. And it'll work this trip. We'll do it all right."
"We'll have to." The district attorney smiled grimly.
Rafe Tuckleton gazed speculatively upon his friend. "How about Tip O'Gorman?"
"Well?"
Rafe came flatly to the point. "How about gettin' rid of him, too?"
But this was going too fast for the district attorney. He shook his head. "No. Too dangerous."
"Now look here," said Rafe, leaning forward and tapping the district attorney's knee with a persuasive forefinger, "you're forgetting that all this trouble we're having is due to Tip O'Gorman. If it hadn't been for him wanting a 'safe' man, Jack Murray would have been elected, and everything about now would be fine as frawg's hair in January."
"Well, we had to give 'em one honest man," said the district attorney cynically. "The voters were getting ideas."
"Rats," snorted Rafe. "What if they were? I don't give a damn what Tip or anybody says, we were strong enough to elect our whole ticket. Huh? No 'maybe' about it. I know. Tip's an old woman, I tell you. He's gettin' too big for his boots. He needs a lesson."