Arizona -- Fiction; Grand Canyon (Ariz.) -- Fiction; Western stories
"Sure! That's where I need a lawyer! Now, I happen to know a personal
weakness of Fowler's--"
"Don't go after him on that!" Enoch's voice was peremptory. "If he's
done evil to some one else, throw the light of day on his crime, but if
by his weakness you mean only some sin he commits against himself, keep
off. A man, even a crook, has a right to that much privacy."
"Did Brown ever have decency toward a man's seclusion?" demanded Curly.
"No!" half shouted Enoch. "But to punish him don't turn yourself into
the same kind of a skunk he is. Kill him if you have to. Don't be a
filthy scandal monger like Brown!"
"You speak as if you knew the gentleman," grunted Mack.
"I don't know him," retorted Enoch, "except as the world knows him."
"Then you don't know him, or Fowler either," said Curly. "But I happen
to have discovered something that both those gentlemen have been mixed
up in, in Mexico, something--oh, by Jove, but it's racy!"
"You've managed to keep it to yourself, so far," said Mack.
"Meaning I'd better continue to do so! Only so long as it serves my
purpose, Mack. When I get ready to raise hell about Fowler's and
Brown's ears, no consideration for decency will stop me. I'll be just
as merciful to them as they were to Harry. No more! I'll string their
dirty linen from the Atlantic to the Pacific. His and Brown's! But I
want money enough to do it right. No little piker splurge they can buy
up! I'll have those two birds weeping blood!"
Enoch moistened his lips. "What's the story, Curly?" he asked evenly.
Curly filled and lighted his pipe. But before he could answer Enoch,
Mack said;
"Sleep on it, Curly. Mud slinging's bad business. Sleep on it!"
"I've a great contempt for Brown," said Enoch. "I'm a good deal
tempted to help you out, that is, if it is to the interest of the
public that the story be told."
"It will interest the public. You can bet on that!" Curly laughed
sardonically. Then he rose, with a yawn. "But it's late and we'll
finish the story to-morrow night. Judge, I have a hunch you're my man!
I sabez there's heap devil in you, if we could once get you mad."
Enoch shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps!" he said, and he unrolled his
blankets for bed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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