"I won't. The son-in-law has rights which the father-in-law ought to respect. What sort of a fellow is Zeb Sawyer?"
"Good deal of a bully," Warren answered, standing beside Lyman and looking through the window as if to keep company with the survey of the bank. "He managed by industry and close attention to shoot a man, I understand, and that gave him a kind of pull with society, although the fellow didn't die. He's a hustler and makes money, and of course has a firm grip on McElwin's heart. There are worse fellows, although he didn't renew his subscription when the time ran out."
While they were looking the porter opened the door of the bank.
"They are going to transact business just the same," said Lyman.
"Yes, they've got to pull teeth, no matter what has happened. Do you know that there are lots of fellows around town that would like to come up here and congratulate you, but they are afraid of McElwin."
"I wonder Caruthers hasn't come," said Lyman.
"No you don't. You've got no use for him and have told him so. Helloa, yonder comes McElwin and Sawyer. They are crossing the street. By George, I believe they are coming here."
"All right. Let's step back and stand at ease ready to receive them."
"Say, I believe there's going to be trouble here," said Warren. "And if there is you wouldn't mind writing it up, would you?"
"No, I wouldn't mind. Ordinary trouble is not quite so personally embarrassing as a marriage."