He puffed
along the passageway to Thorne's room. The Inspector was pecking away at
his portable typewriter and did not look up as the fat man entered.
Plant surveyed the bent back for a moment.
"Look here," he demanded, "I hear you're still investigating my
district--as well as doing 'clerical work.'"
"I am," snapped Thorne without turning his head.
"Am I to consider myself under investigation?" demanded Plant
truculently. To this direct question he, of course, expected a denial--a
denial which he would proceed to demolish with threats and abuse.
"You are," said Thorne, reaching for a fresh sheet of paper.
Plant stared at him a moment; then went out. Next day he drove away on
the stage, and was no more seen for several weeks.
This did not trouble Thorne. He began to reach in all directions for
evidence. At first there came to him only those like the Pollock boys
who were openly at outs with Plant, and so had nothing to lose by
antagonizing him further. Then, hesitating, appeared others. Many of
these grievances Thorne found to be imaginary; but in several cases he
was able to elicit definite affidavits as to graft and irregularity.
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