Читать книгу The 13th District. A Story of a Candidate онлайн

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When Pusey had gone, Garwood burst upon Rankin, his face white with anger.

“The damned little blackmailing—”

“What’n hell’s the matter?” asked Rankin, letting his feet fall from the desk.

Garwood, digging his clenched fists into his trousers’ pockets, paced the floor, swearing angrily.

“Free Pusey’s been here,” he said.

“What’d he want?”

“Stuff.”

“Of course—but what for?”

“For keeping still, what’d you suppose?”

“Does he know anything?”

Garwood paused by the window, still breathing hard.

“Well,” he said presently, “he claims to.”

Rankin drew himself upright with the difficulty of a fat man, and leaned towards Garwood.

“Legislature?” he asked.

Garwood gave an impatient fling of his head. He turned then, drew a chair up to the desk, and sat down, facing Rankin. But Rankin spoke first.

“Some more of that newspaper rot ’bout the Ford bill?”

“Oh, I suppose so,” said Garwood wearily. “I reckon I’ll never hear the last of that.”

“Oh, well,” Rankin said, “to hell with it. Let him print it!”

“But damn it,” Garwood went on, “it’s serious with me—just now—at any rate.”