“That you got from that billposter.”
“Well, I’m usin' ’em. He gave ’em to me.”
“What fer, I'd like to know? It’s my billboard, ain’t it?”
“Well, it was my idea, wasn’t it?”
There Speed stopped.
“Well, did he get the tickets?” I asked.
“Course not. Nobody liked him, so he couldn’t do nothing.”
I liked the ending philosophy of this the best of all.
And once upon a time in some backwoods county in Indiana there was an election for president. There weren’t but sixtynine voters in the district and they kept straggling in from six A. M., when the polls opened, to six P. M., when they closed. Then they all hung around to see how the vote stood. And guess how it stood?
“Well?”