Short stories, American; United States -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction
“Now listen to me a minute,” he said sharply, “and don’t be so ready
to leave. You know who I am, and just what I’m doing. I’m running an
investigation bureau on my own account with which I mean to break up
the present city political ring, and I have a lot of evidence which
might cause Mr. Tilney and the mayor and some others a lot of trouble
this fall, and they know it, and that’s why you’re out here. Mr. Tilney
is connected with the mayor, and he used to be a bosom friend of your
friend, Jack Swayne. And Diamondberg and Mrs. Skelton are in his employ
right now, and so are you. You think I don’t know that Castleman and
his friends were working with you and Mrs. Skelton, and Diamondberg
and these ‘brokers’ also, and that Castleman tried to run into us the
other night and kill me, and that I’m being watched here all the time
and spied on, but I am, and I know it, and I’m not in the dark as to
anything--not one thing--not even you,” and he leered at her angrily.
“Now wait a moment,” he went on quickly as she opened her mouth and
started to say something. “You don’t look to me to be so crafty and
devilish as all this seems, or I wouldn’t be talking to you at all,
and your manner all along has been so different--you’ve appeared so
friendly and sympathetic, that I’ve thought at times that maybe you
didn’t know exactly what was going on. Now, however, I see that you do.
Your manner the other morning at breakfast made me think that possibly
you were not so bad as you seemed. But now I see that you’ve been lying
to me all along about all this, just as I thought, only I must say that
up to now I haven’t been willing to believe it. This isn’t the first
time an attempt has been made to get people in this way, though. It’s
an old political trick, only you’re trying to work it once more, and I
don’t propose that you shall work it on me if I can help it. Plainly,
you people wouldn’t hesitate to kill me, any more than Tilney hesitated
to ruin Crothers three years ago, or than he would hesitate to ruin
me or any other man or woman who got in his path, but he hasn’t got
me yet, and he’s not going to, and you can tell him that for me. He’s
a crook. He controls a bunch of crooks--the mayor and all the people
working with him--and if you’re in with them, as I know you are, and
know what you’re doing, you’re a crook too.”
“Oh, oh, oh! Don’t!” she exclaimed. “Please don’t! This is too
terrible! To think that you should talk to me in this way!” but she
made no attempt to leave.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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