"You'll be kept until you can be brought before Justice Murphy. He'll fine you five dollars and tell you to get out of town."
"Can't I see him now?"
"Justice Murphy," the jailer said, "has gone fishing. He won't be back for a week."
"Then I'm to be your guest for a week?"
"It looks that way. Might as well get you checked in."
He took a pad of forms from the desk and balanced a pencil. In the proper places he inscribed Jeff's name, age, the offense with which he was charged, and other pertinent data. He looked closely at what he had written, and from the dark cells in back came a shouted, "Hey, Pop! Who's the new tenant?"
"Shut up, Ike."
"Aw, bring him back, Pop. Bucky and me'd like to meet him."
"You two be quiet," Pop reprimanded the prisoner. Then he addressed Jeff. "Ike Wilson and Bucky Edwards—they finally got caught."
"What for?"