"Oh, you know my name. I am much flattered, I assure you. Of course I have known you for many years, but I didn't think you remembered me."
McElwin stood blinking at the sun. "I think I have spoken to you on an average of once a day for the last fifteen years," said he. "I am not a gusher, however. I have not seen a newspaper this morning and ask you if there is any news."
"Oh, I suppose there must be," Caruthers replied, leaning back against the rail of the bridge. "I haven't seen a newspaper either and I don't know what may have happened in the outside world."
"Any news about town?"
"No, nothing unusual, I believe. A dog was found dead on the public square, I understand; and I hear that old Mart Henley's son has been suspected of stealing a ham from Avery's meat house. Let me see." He passed his hand over his brow, as if in deep meditation. "Maxey's cow tramped down the roses in Donalson's yard and Thompson's hogs, covered with mud, have rubbed themselves against Tillman's white fence."
"Such occurrences are of no interest to me," said the banker.
"No, nor to me either. Well, I'll bid you good morning. Wait a moment," he added. "There was something else on my mind. Oh, did you hear of the White Caps?"
"No!" McElwin said with a gasp. "What about them?"
"Well, they went last night to have some fun with Sam Lyman."
"Ah, and they took him out and whipped him?"