Two or three disrespectful snickers followed this declaration. The parson instantly flared up.
“If any reprobate here feels a desire to scoff, he’s only to step outside for a few minutes and see who can get the drop on the other.”
Everybody knew that the parson was always well heeled, and no one questioned his courage. His friends contented themselves with pitying smiles and significant 40 glances at one another. Felix hastily swallowed his toddy, with the evident intention of airing his emphatic views, when Wade Ruggles interposed:
“Pards, you’re gettin’ off the track; we hain’t got to the religious racket yit; that’ll come later. What I want to ’rive at is as to using cuss words and unproper language where the angel hears it. It ain’t ’nough for us to agree that we won’t do it; it must be fixed so we don’t take no chances.”
This was not exactly clear and Wade was asked to be more explicit.
“I mean that there must be a penalty, such as will stop a galoot that has once offended from doing the same thing again.”
This clearly intimated that the punishment which the chairman had in mind was of a frightful nature. The landlord begged Wade to come down to particulars.
“My idee is that whoever offends this little one by unproper language shall be filled full of bullet holes: how does that strike you?”
“It hits me just right!” responded the landlord, with several nods of his head; “but there’s one thing in the way.”
“What’s that?” demanded Wade, showing some temper at this attack upon his scheme.