“Nope. I’m heap sane right here and now. Set down and smoke whilst I explain.”
CHAPTER II—THADY SHEA ENCOUNTERS PURPOSE
“Your man Shea is settin’ in my car yonder,” said Mrs. Crump.
Heedless of the glaring sun, she picked up her pipe and disposed her giant frame for converse. From narrowed lids the sheriff eyed the lanky, up-drawn figure of Shea, which he now noticed for the first time. Then he produced the “makings” and proceeded to roll a cigarette.
“Glad you picked him up,” said he. “I’ll take him back with me.”
“No, ye won’t,” retorted Mrs. Crump, calmly. “You’ll not touch him, Sam Tracy.”
“He’s a thief and a drunkard and a hobo,” said the sheriff.
“If they wasn’t no drinks to be had in heaven, I reckon hell would be majority choice,” quoth the lady. “When it comes to that, I’ve seen you and Crump so paralyzed you couldn’t talk. There was that night down to Magdalena when the railroad spur was finished and they held a celebration——”
The sheriff grinned. “No need to argue further along them lines, ma’am. You win!”
“I reckon I do, Sam. Besides, you ain’t got no authority over in this county. You can run a bluff on ignorant hoboes an’ greasers, but not on Mehitabel Crump! Your authority quit quite a ways back. Thady Shea only stole because he was starving, which I’d do the same in his place. I picked him up here and I’m goin’ to keep him.”