“But you claim that everything I wrote was false, do you not?”
“Mister, you’re sitting here playing word games. Stupid ones, at that. I’m trying to see that the laws of this country are enforced an’ that no innocent people, not white ones nor red either one, come to harm. Now what I want from you is nothing more than plain truthfulness. In particular, man, I don’t want you getting folks worked up with a bunch o’ lies that can’t do anybody any good. You work folks up an’ get ’em scared, the next thing they’ll be shooting into the shadows. Gunning down the next Indian who walks by, just out o’ the fear that you put into ’em. Innocent people can get killed, mister, an’ all because of your stupid lies.” “And I say my story is not a lie, Deputy. Not the least part of it.”
“That’s a lie right there, Farmer.”
“Prove it.”
“All right, I will. Tell me who this high-placed government source is s’posed to be. If you can. Though you an’ me both know that you can’t.”
“My source of information does exist, Deputy. And I challenge you to prove otherwise.”
“Who is he, Farmer? Let’s you an’ me both set down an’ talk to this guy.”
“I can’t divulge a news source, Deputy, nor can you force me to. Surely you understand that. Why, even suggesting such a thing constitutes ... and I use the term advisedly ... a violation of my First Amendment rights of free speech. I daresay the confidentiality of a newspaperman’s sources of information enjoys every bit as much protection under the law as a priest’s confessional disclosures.”
“Bullshit,” Longarm said.
“Do you know of any specific case law to dispute me, Deputy? Or do you, Agnes?”
Longarm’s only answer was a scowl. Aggie frowned, but had to admit that if there was a case to cite she wasn’t familiar with it offhand.
“You came here to dispute my story, Deputy. As it happens, however,
The son of a bitch stood up and gave Longarm a snooty look.