“Ain't you afraid mebby some of them foreign countries 'll ship in flour or fruit or crackers?” asked Eph.
“How can they when we put the tariff up, like we will?” asked Phineas. “Course, while we're buyin' up these other things, we've got to buy up Congress.”
“Phin!” exclaimed Eph, suddenly, “we'll have a dickens of a tax-bill to pay.”
“We'll swear off our taxes,” said Phineas, shortly.
Eph relapsed into meditation. “Why, Phin,” he said at length, “we'll be as good as bosses of these United States, won't we?”
“Surely we will,” Phin replied.
“Do you suppose I'm doin' all this work an' takin' all this worry just fer the money? What do I care fer a few millions more or less, Eph, when I've got millions an' millions? What I want is power. I want to have this here nation so that when I say, 'Come!' it will come, an' when I say, 'Go!' it will go, an' when I say, 'Dance!' it will dance.”
He stood up and inflated his thin breast, and tapped it with his forefinger.
“Eph,” he said, “with this here American Pie Company goin', you an' me can go an' say to them big trust men, 'Eat dirt,' an' they'll eat it an' be glad to git off so easy. We can—”
He paused and glanced up the road uneasily. He shaded his eyes and looked closely at the distant figure of a stout woman who was waddling in their direction.