"Anyone can? You have a greater faith in the masses than I do." Almost an insult on his lips, sharply curved as they were.

But the money thrown eclipsed any implied insult with its own -- Chilton, with stiffened shoulders and tight lips, balked. The wad bullseyed him in the chest, over his heart, and dropped to the floor with a soft thud. He stared it at, a flush rising to his face, the whirlpool sensation of powerlessness before that omnipotent cut of William Walker.

"Would that be a mandate?"

Lighthearted humor, the flirt of wordplay that he didn't quite feel in his limbs. Chilton had come to gloat, but the man in black had outmaneuvered his little cruelties. He looked down at the neatly bound money wad, looked back up at Walker.

And bent over to pick it up.