B. B. nodded. “Anything new with you?” he asked, for everybody was a source of news to B. B. Beecham. That was why the Journal was popular.
“We-ell, I have got a sort of an item for you,” Jim told him. “Might be worth printing, maybe.”
B. B. asked what it was; and Jim told him. “Wint’s give orders that the town’s going dry.”
B. B. said: “H’m! Is that so?” And Jim said it was so.
“Guess that’ll be an item folks will read,” he remarked.
The editor shook his head. “We don’t feel we can print such things,” he said. “You see, it’s bad for Hardiston, outside. Legally, the town is already dry.”
“I never did have much of any use for laws,” Jim drawled.
“I suppose this means some work for you.”
“Can’t say. Don’t think so. There won’t be much of it done, except a little, on the sly. Not after the word I’ve passed around.”
“Well, it won’t do Hardiston any harm. Even as things are, they are better than they used to be. I can remember thirteen saloons here at one time. How many have there been, under cover?”