“I don't give a tinker's dam who's mayor of this town, so long as he gives it honest government.”
“That's right,” said Mr. Hendricks approvingly. “Old Cardew's been running it for years, and you could put all the honest government he's given us in a hollow tooth. If you'll stop that hammering, I'd like to make a proposition to you.”
Willy Cameron took an admiring squint at his handiwork.
“Sorry to refuse you, Mr. Hendricks, but I don't want to be mayor.”
Mr. Hendricks chuckled, as Willy Cameron led the way to his room. He wandered around the room while Cameron opened a window and slid the dog off his second chair.
“Great snakes!” he said. “Spargo's Bolshevism! Political Economy, History of—. What are you planning to be? President?”
“I haven't decided yet. It's a hard job, and mighty thankless. But I won't be your mayor, even for you.”
Mr. Hendricks sat down.
“All right,” he said. “Of course if you'd wanted it!” He took two large cigars from the row in his breast pocket and held one out, but Willy Cameron refused it and got his pipe.
“Well?” he said.