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Maverick Narkom was among those who had attended the lunch in honour of the Lord Mayor that day, and that, at the very moment when this ghastly discovery was made on the down platform at Anerley station, he was standing with the crowd on the up one, waiting for the train to Victoria.
He leaped through the door, glanced up and down the stable street deserted at that hour except for a few drowsy attendants lounging in front of their stalls jerked the door shut, hooked the open padlock through the iron fastenings, snapped its jaws together and muttered, as he hurried away: "I guess that guy won't ride the Gold Dust maverick in any two-mile sweepstakes to-day!"
Just as the message was sent, Maverick passed on his way to his post, and seeing him, Haight stepped to the door and called him: "I say, Jim, I've learned the truth at last about that superintendent of ours, damn him! You seemed so interested in old Cameron this morning, I thought you'd like to know that it has turned out that this Houston is his nephew."
Maverick Narkom was there alone, standing beside his desk, with the curtains of his window drawn and pinned together, and at his elbow an unlighted lamp of violet-coloured glass, standing and looking thoughtfully down at something which lay before him. He turned as his visitor entered and made an open-handed gesture toward it. "Look here," he said laconically, "what do you think of this?"
Maverick's opinion that British control should be exercised over a British possession and that the government of such a possession should not be conducted after the fashion of an ecclesiastical society happened to coincide with that of the King's advisers and, as Maverick had lived in America for thirty years, his advice was listened to with respect and approval.
"Is he afraid of women?" Carolyn June laughed. "Not particularly," Skinny replied; "he don't bother with them, that's all." "I think he went after that Gold Dust maverick," Charley said. "He'll probably come in when he sees how it's going to storm " "He don't give a darn for storms," Bert declared. " Pass them frijoles, Pedro.
Now and then, when she passed an acquaintance, she wondered if the pain and glory were written on her face. But Mrs. Sperry, who stopped her at the corner of Maverick Street to say a word about the next meeting of the Higher Thought Club, seemed to remark no change in her.
Perhaps it would have been better for Sylvia if he had brazened it out just at that time, for on the very night of the wedding there was talk in the Maverick Bar. Not open or general comment, certainly. The border folk were not loose of speech.
You are a splendid temptation; a gorgeous bait, you beauties; but the fish that snaps at you will find that there's a nasty hook underneath in the shape of Maverick Narkom. Never mind the many windows, Sir Horace. Let him come in by them, if that's his plan. I'll never leave these things for one instant between now and the morning. Good night, Miss Lorne.
You've been as ornery an' as compromisin' as it's possible for any human maverick to get without havin' to requisition the unwillin' mourners." "Not that I'm sayin' you're naturally bad, Texas. It's that you've got an overdose of what them modern brain specialists call exaggerated ego; which us common critters would call plain swell head.
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