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It was at this point that Kittredge broke in. "Gryson isn't safe. I have it straight that he is getting ready to sell us out. That's why he wants his pay in advance." The vice-president's heavy brows met in a frown, and the muscles of his square jaw hardened. "Put Gryson on the rack and show him what you've got on him in that Montana bank robbery. That will bring him to book.
"You needn't come to me the day after to-morrow, or any other time," he raged. "I'm through with you and your tribe. Get out!" After Gryson, muttering threats, had gone, the young campaign manager had an attack of moral nausea. It seemed such a prodigious waste of time and energy to traffic and chaffer with these petty scoundrels.
There is a mild panic on in at least three of the city wards over the disappearance of a fellow named Gryson, a sort of er wire-puller and all-around general-utility man. Some say he has been doing crooked work and had to disappear; others say that he has taken his pay for whatever job he was doing and has skipped out, leaving his journeymen strikers to hold the bag."
There would be no place in his own and his father's State for him after Gryson returned, and the match had been touched to the hidden mine of high explosives. This was what was in his mind when he said rather tamely: "I suppose you will have to go. There isn't any chance for social-settlement work out here yet."
Half of one of the precious days of challenge had been wasted in the futile search for Gryson, and here was the other half worse than wasted, since the handsome young lieutenant had so brazenly monopolized Patricia. "I'll get you home in time for dinner, never fear," he returned, but apparently the little car was no party to the promise.
Blount left the door open and went to get his coat and hat. "Who is the man?" he asked, while the officers lingered. "A felly named Gryson. He's been working in the railroad shops what times he wasn't pullin' off something crooked in the p'litical line." "What is he wanted for?" Blount was closing his desk and preparing to leave the office.
After giving his order he ran hastily through the local news in the papers. There was no mention of the arrest of one Thomas Gryson in any of the police notes, and he breathed freer. But in The Plainsman there was an editorial which was vaguely disturbing. Blenkinsop, who wrote his own leaders, hinted pointedly at coming disclosures which would change the political map of the State for all time.
Beyond that he went forth to institute a painstaking search in the purlieus of the city, a quest having for its object the unearthing of the man Thomas Gryson. More and more he was coming to believe that this man was the key to a larger situation in the field of political corruption than any which had as yet developed. Wherefore he made the search thorough.
In fact, there was a time, a week or two ago, when I thought he would have to be called down and given a lesson. Now then, how about that Gryson business?" "It was just as you said: I had to take Tom by the neck and get rid of him." "He did his work all right?" "Yes, and came swaggering around for his pay. I sized it up one side and down the other.
Hot-eyed and restless, he wore out the long afternoon in feverish impatience, slipping now and then into the shadow land of delirium when the pain was severest, but clinging always to the obsessing idea. At whatever cost, the crisis must find him resolute to do his part. Gryson must be met, the evidence of fraud must be secured, and the fraud itself must be defeated.
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