"I wish she wouldn't do that," says he. "We have a awful time with that band. The old man said if he ever got to be alderman he'd get a ordinance through abolishing them off the streets. They play something fierce!" says he.
"Is he going to run for alderman?" says I. "I seen something in the papers about it."
"Well, yes; I believe he will—I heard him say he would."
"If he does," says I, "I reckon hell will pop in this ward."
"Why?" says he.
"Well, my boss is figuring he may run for alderman hisself—he's naturalized here now. He used to be sher'f out in Cody whenever he wanted to be. When he wants anything, seems like he can't hardly help getting it. It's a way he has."
He looks kind of thoughtful at that.
"Well, now," says he, "well now, what do you know about that! As you say, Curly, ain't that hell?"
He swore so easy and natural that I kind of liked him, and the way he taken up roping was to my thinking about the best of any tenderfoot I ever seen.
"What are they piling up them rocks along the side of the yard for, Jimmie?" I ast him after a while.