"Isn't there any way to get hold of him? A crazy man could see that
his best friend couldn't _beg_ it out of him, and that he
wouldn't spare any of us; but don't you know of some bludgeon we could
hang up over him?"

"Nothing. It's up to Gorgett."

"Well," said Bob, "Lafe's mighty smart, but it looks like
God-help-Gorgett now!"

Well, sir, I couldn't think of anything better to do than to go around
and see Gorgett; so, after waiting long enough for Genz to see him and
get away, I went. Lafe was always cool and slow; but I own I expected
to find him flustered, and was astonished to see right away that he
wasn't. He was smoking, as usual, and wearing his hat, as he always
did, indoors and out, sitting with his feet upon his desk, and a
pleasant look of contemplation on his face.

"Oh," says I, "then Genz hasn't been here?"

"Yes," says he, "he has. I reckon you folks have 'most spoiled Genz's
usefulness for me."

"You're taking it mighty easy," I told him.

"Yep. Isn't it all in the game? What's the use of getting excited
because you've blocked us on one precinct? We'll leave that closet out
of our calculations, that's all."

"Almighty Powers, I don't mean _that!_ Didn't Genz tell you--"