“I fawncy ’e will be,” said Mr. Bogardus. “Aw—permit me to—er—deposit with you—aw—eighteen of these so-called coupons.... Guess that’ll give me as good a start as any, seems as though.”
“Yes, indeed, Mr. Bogardus. Good luck to you.”
“Er—notice anything?” He toyed with the ribbon on his eyeglasses and cast an arch glance upon Carmel.
“Oh yes, indeed! How distinguished it makes you look!”
He purred. “That’s the way I calc’late to look. How was it that feller said it in French. Seems like I can’t twist my tongue around French.... Eh?... Oh, dis-tan-gay. Sounds kind of, don’t it. Say.”
He turned toward the door, but paused. “Heard the news?” he asked.
“What news?”
“Aw—fawncy an editor askin’ that. Fawncy!... They’re goin’ to declare the office of sheriff vacant and git the Governor to appoint Jenney to the job.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s bein’ talked all over. Jenney says so himself. Rippin, eh? What?”