Amos waved his hands. “Why, f’r instance, the Mayor has power to enforce the abatement of a nuisance. Make them shut off that whistle, if it’s a nuisance. Anything like that.”
Wint swayed on his feet, and steadied himself with a hand on the foot of the bed. “Can the Mayor do a thing like that—on the square?”
“Why, sure,” said Amos.
Wint grinned; a cracked and painful grin, but mirthful too; and he took a step forward. “Then say,” he exclaimed. “Then say! There’s something in this Mayor job, after all....”
“Sure there is!”
Wint gripped Amos’ arm. “Lead me to that cold, cold tub,” he enjoined.
END OF BOOK II