"Never knowed no big celebration to come off like it was planned, or 'thout somebody gittin' a leg busted, or the big speaker fergittin' what day it was, or suthin'. Seems like the hull weight of this here falls right on to me."
"Responsibility," said Scattergood, with a twinkle in his eye, "is a turrible thing to bear up under. But nothin' hain't happened yit, and folks is dependin' on you, Pliny, to see 't nothin' mars the party."
"It'll rain on to the pe-rade, and the ball game'll bust up in a fight, and pickpockets'll most likely git wind of sich a big gatherin' and come swarmin' in.... Scattergood," he lowered his voice impressively, "it's rumored Mavin Newton's a-comin' back for this here Old Home Week."
"Um!... Mavin Newton.... Um!... Who up and la'nched that rumor?"
"Everybody's a-talkin' it up. Folks says he's sure to come, and then what in tunket'll we do? The sheriff's goin' to be busy handlin' the crowds and the traffic and sich, and he won't have no time fer extry miscreants, seems as though.... Folks is a-comin' from as fur 's Denver, and we don't want no town criminal brought to justice in the middle of it all. Though Mavin's father 'd be glad to see his son ketched, I calc'late."
"Hain't interviewed Mattie Strong as ree-gards her feelin's, have ye?"
"I wonder," said Pliny, with intense interest, "if Mattie's ever heard from him? But she's that close-mouthed."
"'Tain't a common failin' hereabouts," said Scattergood. "How long since Mavin run off?"
"Eight year come November."
"The night before him and Mattie was goin' to be married."