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Lynde, Francis, 1856-1930

"The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush"

I've heard your speeches, and says
I, 'There's your wan chance, cully,' and I'm here to grab f'r it. If
you've been meanin' the half of what you've been sayin', Mr. Blount--"
There was more of it, half pleadings and half mere rageful babblings of
a vengeful soul hampered by the tongue of inadequacy.
Blount left his chair and began to pace the floor, with Gryson watching
him furtively. At any time earlier in the struggle the thought of using
this wretched time-server as a means to any end, however desirable and
just, would have been nauseating. True, if there could be any such thing
as honor among thieves, the man had earned the price of his crooked
work among the registration clerks; but for another man to profit by the
broken bargain, and by the confessed criminal's rage and lust for
vengeance, was a thing to make even a hard-pressed loser in an unequal
battle hesitate.
The hesitation was only momentary. With a gesture which was more
expressive than many words, Blount turned short upon the furtive watcher
in the chair at the desk end.
"What do you want me to do?" he demanded.
"You're on before I could stall it f'r you. You've been swearin' you'd
back th' square deal to th' limit; it ain't square; it's crooked as
hell. Grab f'r this knife I'm handin' you and cut the heart out o' these
welshin' bosses that are givin' you th' double-cross the same as they're
givin' it to me.


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