"Come, we can't wait all night for permission to search this car. Go ahead."
"I hope you'll wait till my father comes," begged Madge.
"Now go slow, Mr. Camp," said the sheriff: "We mustn't discomfort the lady if we can avoid it."
"I believe you're wasting time in order to help him escape," snapped
Camp.
"Nothin' of the kind," denied the sheriff.
"If you won't do your duty, I'll take the law into my own hands, and order the car searched," sputtered Camp, so angry as hardly to be able to articulate.
"Look a here," growled the sheriff, "who are yer sayin' all this to anyway? If yer talkin' to me, say so right off."
"All I mean," hastily said Camp, "is that it's your duty, in your honorable position, to search this car."
"I don't need no instructing in my dooty as sheriff," retorted the official. "But a bigger dooty is what is owin' to the feminine sex. When a female is in question, a gentleman, Mr. Camp—yes, sir, a gentleman—is in dooty bound to be perlite."
"Politeness be —— ——!" swore Camp.