Uncle Bill replied tranquilly:
“Would if they ast me.”
“You’d rather see us all starve than boost.”
“Jest as lief as to lie.”
“Well, that’s what we’re goin’ to do if somethin’ don’t happen this spring. She’ll own this camp. Porcupine Jim turned over ‘The Underdog’ yesterday and Lannigan’s finished eatin’ on ‘The Gold-dust Twins’.” He moved away disconsolately. “Lord, I wish the stage would get in.”
At this juncture Judge George Petty turned in from the street, hitting both sides of the snow tunnel as he came. He fumbled at the door-knob in a suspicious manner and then stumbled joyously inside.
“Boys,” he announced exuberantly, “I think I heerd the stage.”
The group about the red-hot stove regarded him coldly and no one moved. It was like him, the ingrate, to get drunk alone. When he tried to wedge a chair into the circle they made no effort to give him room.
“You don’t believe me!” The Judge’s mouth, which had been upturned at the corners like a “dry” new moon, as promptly became a “wet” one and drooped as far the other way.
“Somethin’ you been takin’ must a quickened your hearin’,” said Yankee Sam sourly. “She’s an hour and a half yet from bein’ due.”