Life at the Hernandez home had its definite compensations, Pelham found.
A nearby garage held the indispensable car; and there was now no one to
censor his comings and goings. As long as he slept on the mountain, Mary
clung to this role; the relief of the lifted restraint was immediate.
His mining inspector's badge gave him the run of the mountain property,
although he was careful not to use it in direct union propaganda.
One afternoon late in August, Jim Hewin came up to him on a downtown
avenue. "Howdy, Mr. Judson. Say," and the shifty eyes nervously agitated
toward Pelham's face, "I could do you a good turn if I wanted to."
"What's that?"
"I got some dope you'd give a heap to know."