"Magnate," corrected Roy.
"But they used to call him 'Old Man Temple'—everybody did. And it's a sure sign—you can always tell," Pee-wee concluded.
"Wall, they call me 'Ole Man Flint,'" said the visitor, "so I guess——"
"Oh, of course," said Pee-wee, hastily, "I don't say it's always so, and besides you're a—a——"
"Sheriff," Mr. Flint volunteered.
"So you got to be kind of strict—and—and grouchy—like."
The sheriff handed his empty cup to Roy and smiled good-naturedly.
"Where does Old Man Stanton live?" asked Tom, who had been silent while the others were talking.
"'Long the Nyack road, but he has his office in Nyack—he's a lawyer," said the visitor, as he drew his rubber hat down over his ears.
"Can we get back to Nyack by that other road?"