--I like that magistrate, plainly, a damned
deal better than I like you. When you or I show one half his ability,
we're free to mock him--in my house."
For the first time within the memory of any man present, the mimic
wilted.
"I--I did not know," he stammered, "that old man was your friend." Very
quiet, and a little flushed, he took his seat among the others.
"I like him no end." Still more quiet, Heywood appealed to the company.
"Part for his hard luck--stuck down, a three-year term, in this
neglected hole. Enemies in power, higher up. Fang, the Sword-Pen, in
great favor up there.--What? Oh, said nothing directly, of course.
Friendly call, and all that. But his indirections speak straight enough.
We understood each other. The dregs of the town are all stirred
up--bottomside topside--danger point. He, in case--you know--can't give
us any help. No means, no recourse. His chief's fairly itching to
cashier him.--Spoke highly of your hospital work, padre, but said, 'Even
good deeds may be misconstrued.'--In short, gentlemen, without saying a
word, he tells us honestly in plain terms, 'Sorry, but look out for
yourselves.
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