“Congratulations!” said the editor. “Have it your own way then. I'll be at Miss Sally's after supper, if Sue wants to coax.”
They parted, and as Eliph' walked happily toward his boarding house he did not realize that he had not won, nor that his appeal had been rejected by Miss Sally, for he had regained his faith in Jarby's and if he had not yet won, he felt that he would, and that was the same thing.
After his supper Eliph' felt that the time had come to arrange things with Miss Sally. There was no longer any cause for delay. He had arranged the matter of the fire-extinguishers; he had settled the matter of the TIMES, and he felt that Skinner and the Colonel must have hurt by their actions their causes with Miss Sally. They had, indeed, far more than Eliph' guessed. He repaired to his room and brushed his whiskers carefully. Never had he appeared smarter than when he went out of the gateless opening in Doc Weaver's fence, and turned his face toward Miss Sally's home.
His way led him past the mayor's little car, where Stitz was on his platform smoking and evening pipe. The mayor halted him with a motion of his pipe stem.
“Mister Hewlitt,” he said, “you know too that joke, yes? About those lung-testers was not fire-extinguishers?”
“That's all right,” said Eliph', seeking to pass on, “It is all fixed up now. They ARE fire-extinguishers.”
“Such a fool business on Skinner,” said the mayor with enjoyment. “And on Stitz, too. I thinks me I am the boss grafter, and I ain't!”
He chuckled.
“No-o!” he said cheerfully. “But next times I makes no more such fool mistakes; I make me a real boss grafter. I am now only a boss-fool, but boss grafter. So says Attorney Toole. Money is grafts, and houses and lots is grafts, and horses is grafts, and buggies, but,” and he paused impressively, “apples isn't, and potatoes isn't, and peas isn't, and chickens isn't. Nothing to eat is grafts. If it is to eat it is not grafts. So says Attorney Toole. Things to eat is no more grafts as lung-tester is fire-extingables. So says Toole. So nobody won't prosecute me. I stick me to the mayor business yet a while. Klops on the head is nothings much; all big men gets them. So says Attorney Toole.”
Skinner was locking his shop when Eliph' passed, and the stopped Eliph' too.