It seemed almost as though a
prescience of what was to come lay in that curious communion of
heart and mind.
"Going after the crooks, I understand," said Coleman finally.
"Big and little," King retorted. "That's all the paper's for. I don't
expect to make money."
"How about the Southerners, the Chivalry party? They'll challenge you to
duels daily."
"Damn the 'Chivs'." King answered. "I shall ignore their challenges.
This duelling habit is absurd. It's grandstand politics; opera bouffe.
They even advertise their meetings and the boatmen run excursions to
some point where two idiots shoot wildly at each other for some fancied
slight. No, Coleman, I'm not that particular kind of a fool."
"Well, you'd better carry a derringer," the other warned. "There are
Broderick's plug-uglies. They won't wait to send a challenge."
King gave him an odd look. "I have feeling that one cannot change his
destiny," he said. "If I am to be killed--then so be it ... Kismet, as
the Orientals say. But meanwhile I'll fight corruption. I'll call men by
name and shout their sins from the housetops. We'll wake up the town, or
my name isn't James King of William.... Won't we, James?" He clapped a
hand on Nesbitt's shoulder.
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