"You're right; I'm not!" cried Bruce. "And so you threaten to send word around to the boys to knife me on election day?"
"As I said, I guess I don't need to explain."
"No, you don't, for I now see why you came here," cried Bruce, his wrath rising as he realized that he had been hoodwinked by Blind Charlie from the very first. "So there's a frame-up between you and Blake, and you're trying to sell me out and sell out the party! You first tried to wheedle me into laying down--and when I wouldn't be fooled, you turned to threats!"
"The question isn't what I came for," snapped Blind Charlie. "The question is, what are you going to do? Either you do as I say, or not one of the boys will vote for you. Now I want your answer."
"You want my answer, do you? Why--why----" Bruce glared down at the old man in a fury. "Well, by God, you'll get my answer, and quick!"
He dropped down before his typewriter, ran in a sheet of paper, and for a minute the keys clicked like mad. Then he jerked out the sheet of paper, scribbled a cabalistic instruction across its top, sprang to his office door and let out a great roar of "Copy!"
He quickly faced about upon Blind Charlie.
"Here's my answer. Listen:
"'This afternoon Charlie Peck called at the office of the _Express_ and ordered its editor, who is candidate for mayor, to cease from his present aggressive campaign tactics. He threatened, in case the candidate refused, to order the "boys" to knife him at the polls.
"'The candidate refused.
"'Voters of Westville, do your votes belong to you, or do they belong to Charlie Peck?'
"That's my answer, Peck. It all goes in big, black type in a box in the centre of the first page of this afternoon's paper. We'll see whether the party will stand for your methods." At this instant the grimy young servitor of the press appeared. "Here, boy. Rush that right down."
"Hold on!" cried Peck in consternation. "You're not going to print that thing?"
"Unless the end of the world happens along just about now, that'll be on the street in half an hour." Bruce stepped to the door and opened it wide. "And, now, clear out! You and your votes can go plum to hell!"
"Damn you! But that piece will do you no good. I'll deny it!"
"Deny it--for God's sake do! Then everybody will know I'm telling the truth. And let me warn you, Charlie Peck--I'm going to find out what your game is! I'm going to show you up! I'm going to wipe you clear off the political map!"
Blind Charlie swore at him again as he passed out of the door.
"We're not through with each other yet--remember that!"
"You bet we're not!" Bruce shouted after him. "And when we are, there'll not be enough of you left to know what's happened!"
CHAPTER XIX
WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK
Two hours later Bruce was striding angrily up and down the West parlour, telling Katherine all about it.
She refrained from saying, "I told you so," by either word or look.
She was too wise for such a petty triumph. Besides, there was something in that afternoon's _Express_, which Bruce had handed her that interested her far more than his wrathful recital of Blind Charlie's treachery; and although she was apparently giving Bruce her entire attention, and was in fact mechanically taking in his words, her mind was excitedly playing around this second piece of news.
For Doctor Sherman, so said the _Express_, had that day suddenly left Westville. He had been failing in health for many weeks and was on the verge of a complete breakdown, the _Express_ sympathetically explained, and at last had yielded to the importunities of his worried congregation that he take a long vacation. He had gone to the pine woods of the North, and to insure the unbroken rest he so imperatively required, to prevent the possibility of appealing letters of inconsiderate parishioners or other cares from following him into his isolation, he had, at his doctor's command, left no address behind.
Katherine instantly knew that this vacation was a flight. The situation in Westville had grown daily more intense, and Doctor Sherman had seemed to her to be under an ever-increasing strain.
Blake, she was certain, had ordered the young clergyman to leave, fearing, if he remained, that his nerve might break and he might confess his true relation to her father's case. She realized that now, when Doctor Sherman was apparently weakening, was the psychological time to besiege him with accusation and appeal; and while Bruce was rehearsing his scene with Blind Charlie she was rapidly considering means for seeking out Doctor Sherman and coming face to face with him.
Her mind was brought back from its swift search by Bruce swinging a chair up before her and sitting down.
"But, Katherine--I'll show Peck!" he cried, fiercely, exultantly. "He doesn't know what a fight he's got ahead of him. This frees me entirely from him and his machine, and I'm going to beat him so bad that I'll drive him clear out of politics."
She nodded. That was exactly what she was secretly striving to help him do.
He became more composed, and for a hesitant, silent moment he peered thoughtfully into her eyes.
"But, Katherine--this affair with Peck this afternoon shows me I am up against a mighty stiff proposition," he said, speaking with the slowness of one who is shaping his statements with extreme care. "I have got to fight a lot harder than I thought I would have to three hours ago, when I thought I had Peck with me. To beat him, and beat Blake, I have got to have every possible weapon. Consequently, circumstances force me to speak of a matter that I wish I did not have to talk about." He reached forward and took her hand. "But, remember, dear," he besought her tenderly, "that I don't want to hurt you.
Remember that."
She felt a sudden tightening about the heart.
"Yes--what is it?" she asked quietly.
"Remember, dear, that I don't want to hurt you," he repeated. "It's about your father's case. You see how certain victory would be if we only had the evidence to prove what we know?"
"I see."
"I don't mean to say one single unkind word about your not having made--having made--more encouraging progress." He pressed her hand; his tone was gentle and persuasive. "I'll confess I have secretly felt some impatience, but I have not pressed the matter because--well, you see that in this critical situation, with election so near, I'm forced to speak about it now."
"What would you like?" she said with an effort.
"You see we cannot afford any more delays, any more risks. We have got to have the quickest possible action. We have got to use every measure that may get results. Now, dear, you would not object, would you, if at this critical juncture, when every hour is so valuable, we were to put the whole matter in the hands of my Indianapolis lawyer friend I spoke to you about?"
The gaze she held upon his continued steady, but she was pulsing wildly within and she had to swallow several times before she could speak.
"You--you think he can do better than I can?"
"I do not want to say a single word that will reflect on you, dear.
But we must admit the facts. You have had the case for over four months, and we have no real evidence as yet."
"And you think he can get it?"
"He's very shrewd, very experienced. He'll follow up every clue with detectives. If any man can succeed in the short time that remains, he can."
"Then you--you think I can't succeed?"
"Come, dear, let's be reasonable!"
"But I think I can."
"But, Katherine!" he expostulated.