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"
"Why is Justice Gallagher so down on him?"
The policeman looked about a moment. "It's politics, sir, and he's had
orders."
"From whom?"
"That's more than we know. There was a row last spring in the primary,
and we've had orders since then to lay for him."
Peter stood and thought for a moment. "What saloon-keeper round here has
the biggest pull?" he asked.
"It's all of them, mostly, but Blunkers is a big man."
"Thank you," said Peter. He stood in the street thinking a little. Then
he walked a couple of blocks and went into Blunkers's great gin palace.
"I want to see the proprietor," he said.
"Dat's me," said a man who was reading a paper behind the bar.
"Do you know Justice Gallagher?"
"Do I? Well, I guess," said the man.
"Will you do me the favor to go with me to his court, and get him to
remit Dennis Moriarty's fine?"
"Will I? No. I will not. Der's too many saloons, and one less will be
bully."
"In that case," said Peter quietly, "I suppose you won't mind my closing
yours up?"
"Wot der yer mean?" angrily inquired the man.


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