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And about incidentally showing you and Crowder up as bribing Genz and promising to protect him making your methods public? Oh, yes. And about the Grand Jury? Yes, Genz told me. And about me and the penitentiary. Yes, he told me. Mr. Knowles is a rather excitable young man. Don't you think so?" "Well?" "Well, what's the trouble?" "Trouble!" I said. "I'd like to know what you're going to do?"
"Sit down!" I told him. "Just let me out of here," he said again. And before I could stop him, he'd gone, too, in a blind hurry. Bob and I were left alone, and not talking any. Not for a while. Then Bob said: "Where do you reckon he's gone?" "Reckon who's gone?" "Genz." "To see Lafe." "What?" "Of course he has. What else can he do? He's gone up any way.
"What's Knowles going to do?" "He's sworn to expose the whole deal, as you've just told me you knew; one of the preliminaries to having us all up before the next Grand Jury and sending you and Genz over the road, that's all!" Gorgett laughed that old, fat laugh of his, tilting farther back, with his hands in his pockets and his eyes twinkling under his last summer's straw hat-brim.
Of course, when they began the count our people would know there was something wrong, but they would be practically up against it, and the precinct would be counted for Gorgett. Bob Crowder, a ward committee-man, brought him up and stayed in the room, while the fellow his name was Genz went over the whole thing. "What do you think of it?" says Bob, when Genz finished. "Ain't it worth the money?
What's the use of getting excited because you've blocked us on one precinct? We'll leave that closet out of our calculations, that's all." "Almighty Powers, I don't mean that! Didn't Genz tell you " "About Mr. Knowles and the Herald? Oh, yes," he answered, knocking the ashes off his cigar quietly. "And about the thousand votes he'll gain? Oh, yes.
He was smoking, as usual, and wearing his hat, as he always did, indoors and out, sitting with his feet upon his desk, and a pleasant look of contemplation on his face. "Oh," says I, "then Genz hasn't been here?" "Yes," says he, "he has. I reckon you folks have 'most spoiled Genz's usefulness for me." "You're taking it mighty easy," I told him. "Yep. Isn't it all in the game?
You actually mean you hadn't intended to expose this infamy?" "Steady," I said. I was getting a little hot, too, and talked more than I ought. "Mr. Genz here has our pledge that he's not given away, or he'd never have " "Mister Genz!" sneered Farwell. "Mister Genz has your pledge, has he?
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