“An accessory to what?”

“To the criminal disregard for the laws of this State and the nation which seems to be the underlying motive actuating every move in this corrupt game of politics.  Gantry, if you and some others had your just deserts, you would be breaking stone in the penitentiary this blessed minute!”

“Suffering Moses!” gasped the traffic manager.  “Somebody must have been hitting you pretty hard.  Who was it; some more of the ’little brothers’?”

At another time Blount might have been less angry, and, by consequence, more discreet.

“No, it wasn’t any of the ‘little brothers’; it was Mr. Simon P. Hathaway, president of the Twin Buttes Lumber Company.”

Gantry drew a long breath which ended in a low whistle.

“So that’s what you were let in for, was it?” he exclaimed, and then he checked himself abruptly and went back to the original contention.  “But you’re not going to throw down your tools and walk out, Evan.  You can’t afford to do that.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because you have committed yourself right and left.  No man can afford to drop out of the ranks on the eve of a battle.  You are not stopping to consider the construction which will be put upon any such hasty action on your part.”

“I am not stopping to consider anything, Dick, save the fact that I was evidently expected to connive at a cynical and criminal disregard for the law of the land, the law which, as a member of the bar, I have sworn to uphold and defend.  That is enough for me.  I don’t have to be knocked down and run over before I can realize that it’s time to get out of the way.”

“You say it’s enough for you; it won’t be enough for Mr. McVickar,” Gantry interposed.  “If you could afford to drop out—­and I’m not admitting that you can—­he couldn’t afford to let you.”  Then, with sudden gravity:  “Hadn’t you better let me hold up that telegram of yours for a few hours, Evan, until you’ve had time to cool down and think it over?”

Blount sprang from his chair in a white heat.

“Do you mean to tell me that you are already holding it up?” he demanded.

“I took the liberty of holding it up—­temporarily,” confessed the traffic man coolly.  “There is no harm done.  Mr. McVickar is on his way West now, and he will be here in a day or two.  Why not kill the message and have it out with him in person when he comes?”

Blount was not to be so easily appeased.

“I won’t have my communications tampered with!” he exploded.  “If you have given an order to have that telegram held out, you can give another to have it sent immediately!”

“All right,” said Gantry; “just as you say.”  And he made no effort to detain the enraged one who was turning his back and striding away.  But after the self-discharged political manager was gone, the traffic man chuckled quietly and turned up a square of paper which had been lying on his desk during the short and belligerent interview.