Part 25 (1/2)

”Then,” says he, ”whatever those f-fellers do is mighty int'restin' to me.”

”All right,” says I. ”What of it?”

”I'm f-figgerin',” says he, ”on how we could git to l-listen a little to what they was sayin'.”

”Eavesdroppin',” says I, scornful-like.

”When men is up to a game and s-sneaks off to p-plan it,” he says, ”it's not eavesdroppin' to listen. They git what's comin' to 'em.”

”Have it that way, then,” says I.

”But,” says he, ”g-gittin' so's we can listen hain't so easy. Let's go outside and look around.”

We went, and as we walked down-stairs Mark says, ”The p'litical fight in this county this fall is over the sheriff.”

”I know it,” says I.

”Then,” says he, ”if two men that's p'litical enemies is seen hobn.o.bbin', most likely the sheriff's got somethin' to do with it.

Bowman's the man that's got the job now, and Whittaker wants to git the Republican nomination away from him. Now, takin' for granted that pow-wow up there's about the sheriff, why, what be they d-doin' about it?”

”How should I know?” says I.

We stopped a minute at the door, and Mark says, ”How's the fight for sheriff gettin' on?”

”Perty hot,” says a man-”perty almighty hot.”

”Brown's for Bowman, hain't he?” says Mark.

”No,” says the man; ”where'd you git that idee? He's strong for Whittaker.”

”How's Wiggins?”

”n.o.body knows, but fellers that pertends to be wise figgers he's for Bowman-jest so's to be for anybody Brown is against.”

”Huh!” says Mark. ”What d'you calc'late 'u'd happen if Brown and Wiggins was to make up f-friends and work for the same man?”

”It couldn't happen,” says the man, ”but if it did, with the batch of delegates each one of 'em controls in the convention, the man they agreed on would have a walk-away.”

”Hum!” says Mark. ”Is Brown awful strong for Whittaker?”

”Whittaker's best friend he's got. Why, Whittaker lent him the money to go into business first, and has always been befriendin' him, and two year ago Brown up and married Whittaker's sister.”

”So,” says Mark, ”there hain't much danger of his switchin' to Bowman?”

”He jest _couldn't_,” says the man.

”Hum!” says Mark. ”Int'restin' to hear. Much obliged, mister.”

We walked on, and all of a sudden Mark chuckled right out. ”Binney,”

says he, ”we don't need to go listenin' to what those f-f-fellers is talkin' about. I know.”