“A damn fine dude at that,” interposed a friendly voice.
“A damn fine dude,” echoed Louise. “We’ll admit that.” She wheeled around with dramatic suddenness, facing Matt’s corner. “Now Matt Hardy’s father used to live in Utah. The obvious implication is that Matt is a Mormon with six concealed wives.”
There was a howl of enjoyment while the discomfited Matthew tried to maintain a good-humored front against the nudges with which his neighbours plagued him. The success of the sally lay in the fact that every one knew Matt for a bachelor who paid his taxes and enjoyed an immaculate reputation.
Louise’s spirits rose as she leaned forward over the lights and focused attention again by a gesture of her arms.
“It doesn’t in the least matter whether we’re dudes or not,” she said. “You’re going to elect us anyway. Bye and bye I’ll tell you why. My husband told you some of the reasons, but there are a lot of others he hadn’t time to touch on. Never mind that now. Before I get to the reasons I must sweep the ground clear of objections. That’s the quickest way. I’ve disposed of one. Are there any other objections to us as your representatives in the Legislative Assembly? Any more objections, Matt?”
Matt was still smarting. He had been harboring a desire for revenge. But his wits stood still under provocation.
“Matt’s cartridges are used up,” she announced, turning away.
“No they’re not,” he shouted, with a sudden inspiration. “You’re French.”
His voice was drowned by a chorus of jeers. Louise motioned for silence, then smiled imperturbably. “That’s what Minnie Swigger said, ladies and gentlemen. That’s what we fought about. And Minnie was half right. But only half. She overlooked the fact that me mother was Irish!”
The success of this was almost too great. It threatened to rob the session of its seriousness. After the first delight had simmered down, individuals were suddenly seized with a recollection of the wink and the brogue and burst into renewed guffaws or slapped their legs with resounding thwacks.