"Now, don't let that worry you, Eva. That's part o' my job."
"Who's going to tend jail when there's anybody locked up in it?"
"I am, o' course."
"And who's going to be street commissioner, truant officer, chief of the fire depart—"
"You are, Eva,—but I'm going to look after everything, mind you. All you got to do is to see that I git somethin' to eat whenever I need it, an' a bed to sleep in at night, an' I'll—"
"A bed to sleep in, you ninny!" she cried. "You're going to sleep in the same bed you've been sleeping in for forty years. What are you talking about? Ain't you going to sleep with me if I appoint you deputy marshal?"
"Certainly," Anderson made haste to assure her. "Unofficially, o' course," he went on, with profound regard for the ethics involved.
"Well, I'll think it over," she said wearily. "Don't bother me now, you two; can't you see I'm making apple butter?"
"I hope you will consent to run, Mrs. Crow," put in the wily Mr. Squires, "if only for the sake of showing Minnie Stitzenberg that it won't do her any good to be saying things about—well, about anybody in particular." He concluded very lamely.
"Has that woman been saying things about me?" demanded Mrs. Crow.