“I wonder if the governor’s back yet?” asked one man.
“The morning paper says not, but he’s expected to-day,” replied the man with the newspaper.
“About the first thing he’ll have to do will be to face the question of arresting Appleweight. I was in Columbia the other day, and everybody was talking of the case. They say”—and the speaker waited for the fullest attention of his hearers—“they say Osborne ain’t none too anxious to have Appleweight arrested on his side of the line.”
“Why not?” demanded Ardmore.
“Well, you hear all kinds of things. It was only whispered down there, but they say Osborne was a little too thick with the Appleweight crowd before he was elected governor. He was their attorney, and they were a bad lot for any man to be attorney for. But they haven’t caught Appleweight yet.”
“Where’s he hiding? don’t the authorities know?”
“Oh, he’s up there in the hills on the state line. His home is as much on one side as the other. He spends a good deal of time in Kildare.”
“Kildare?” asked Ardmore, startled at the word.
“Yes, it’s the county seat, what there is of it. I hope you never make that town?” and the inquirer bent a commiserating glance upon Ardmore.
“Well, they use jugs there, I know that!” declared Ardmore; whereat the table roared. The unanimity of their applause warmed his heart, though he did not know why they laughed.