Part 24 (1/2)
”Not a thing. I wish something would. It's what's happening to us that bothers me. Your fine li'l love of a sheriff is appointing his own deputies.”
”The law gives him that privilege.”
”You don't understand. I had picked two deputies for him to appoint--good safe men. You know that part was left to me, and I fixed on Johnson and Kenealy. This morning I mentioned their names to the new sheriff. 'I thank you kindly for your good intentions,' says Bill, or words to that effect, 'but I have already decided to appoint Shotgun s.h.i.+llman and Riley Tyler.'”
”What?”
”I'd say what! I'd say h.e.l.l, I would! Ain't it nice, ain't it funny, ain't it a pretty state of affairs? And what are you going to do about it?”
”Has he appointed 'em yet?”
”They're sworn in by now. He said he was expecting 'em any minute when I left.”
”s.h.i.+llman's the nearest,” said Tip, glancing out of the partly frosted window pane, ”and he lives forty miles away. I wouldn't count on those boys being appointed to-day. The storm may have kept 'em away.”
”No such luck,” growled the judge. ”They're appointed, all right enough.”
”Think so if it makes you happy,” Tip said with a grin. ”You're always such a pessimist.”
”Here!” snarled the judge. ”Don't you try to ride me, Tip. Say right out what you mean.”
”I did,” smiled Tip. ”However----”
”Huh,” snorted the judge, and put his feet on the table and began to pull at his lower lip.
”Shotgun s.h.i.+llman and Riley Tyler,” murmured Tip musingly. ”Hum-m-m!”
”Can't you think of anything to do but buzz like a bee?” demanded the irritated judge.
”There's lots of things you can learn from bees,” protested Tip O'Gorman. ”Maybe they do buzz some, but they gather lots of honey.”
”We'll gather lots of honey, won't we?” snapped the other. ”Both Shotgun and Riley are absolutely honest.”
”And sharp--infernal sharp. Don't forget that.”
”You take it easy.”
”Spilt milk. We've overlooked a bet, that's all.”
”Oh, that's all is it? I tell you it won't be all. I've got a hunch.”
”Don't be superst.i.tious. Politics is no place to play hunches.”
”Apparently it isn't even a place to play common sense,” said the judge. ”If it hadn't been for you and your advice, we wouldn't be in this fix. You got us in. Now you get us out.”
”You make me sick, Tom. You're getting to be a regular old granny. I tell you there is no rat in the hole. Suppose Bill does appoint two honest deputies. There is still Bill, isn't there? What are two deputies going to do against Bill's orders? And Bill will do what I tell him. Oh, yes, he will. You needn't shake your head. I can manage Bill Wingo.”
”I wish I could be sure of that,” worried the judge.
”You can be, old-timer, you can be. I'll manage Bill as per invoice, so you just bed your mind down and give it a rest. The bottle's in that cupboard, water's in the kettle, sugar's on the table, lemons in that box. Help yourself, make punch and be happy. Make enough for two, while you're about it. Your punch always did taste better than mine. I never could mix one to taste anything like. Lord knows how you do it. It's a gift. I hear you had a long run of luck at Crafty's last night.”