He cursed himself for brooding over her and then came back to his brooding with the certainty of fate. Yet it should make no difference in his fight with old Butler. He would kick that fawning, creeping scoundrel out of his house if it was the last and only thing he ever accomplished on earth. The only question he still debated was the time and method of the execution of his plan.
One thing became more and more clear--he was going to need the full use of every faculty with which God had endowed him and he must set his house in order.
He opened the door of the little cupboard above his desk and took from it a decanter of moonshine whiskey Dan Wiley, one of his mountain men, had always kept filled for him. From the drawer he took two packs of cards and a case of poker chips. The cards and chips he rolled in a newspaper, placed in his stove and set them on fire. He smiled as he stood and listened to the roar of the sudden blaze. He raised his window and hurled the red-eyed decanter across the vacant lot in the rear of his office and saw it break into a hundred fragments on a pile of stones.
“Wonder what Dan will say to that when he comes this morning?” he exclaimed, looking at his watch and resuming his seat.
He heard a stealthy footfall at the door, turned and saw the tall lanky form of the mountaineer smiling at him.
Dan Wiley tipped in and stood pulling his long moustache thoughtfully, before taking a chair.
“They say you got drunk night ’fore last.”
“And you’re going to preach me a sermon on temperance, you confounded old moonshining distilling sinner!”
“Ye mustn’t git drunk,” observed Dan seriously.
“Not to git drunk on. I brought it as a compliment. My whiskey’s pure mountain dew, life restorer--it’s medicine.”
“It’s good whiskey, I’ll say that,” said John. “Even if you don’t pay taxes on it. You brought the men?”
“Don’t like the looks er them dam Yankees. I’m a member er the church an’ a law abidin’ citizen.”
“Yet I hear that a revenue officer passed away in your township last fall.”
“Rattlesnakes and Revenue officers don’t count--they ain’t human.”
“Say,” Dan whispered, “you ain’t calculatin’ ter make a raid ternight with them thousand blue-coats paradin’ round this town, are ye?”