“So you think there will be a bitter end, Henry?”
“Let us look calmly upon the matter at hand,” suggested Henry. “I must admit that those Commissioners are irksome. They did decry our lack of ability in coping with the crime wave, which seems to be washing upon our shores. It is very unfortunate that recent gold strikes have filled Tonto City to overflowing with some damnable riff-raff, which always drifts in with new gold strikes, like buzzards after a dead animal. Our once-peaceful pueblo of Tonto is filled with covetous folk, who work not, neither do they spin. And we, you and I, Judge, are the Keepers of the Peace—such as it is.”
“Keepers of the Peace,” repeated Judge. “I like that, sir. But that is not what the Clarion called us. Isn’t bad enough to read such damnable, scurrilous, infamous—er—”
“Enlightening,” suggested Henry calmly.
“Well,” sighed Judge, “I was about to indicate that I did not relish the reading of the editorial by the Commissioners. Damme, they didn’t have to read it aloud to us! We had read it. It is deplorable that a chuckleheaded nincompoop like James Wadsworth Longfellow Pelly can influence public opinion. He suggests that we resign at once. And damme, that Board of Commissioners agreed with him. In fact, they—well, were you going to say something?”
“No,” replied Henry calmly, “I merely opened my mouth for air.”
“Well, do you not resent the attitude of the three Commissioners, Henry? Are you a man or a mouse, sir?”
“Biology,” sighed Henry, “is in my favor; I have but two legs.”
“Will you please hand me that book?” asked Judge. “I hate to ask it, but my damn legs are so cramped that I would never be able to regain this position again. Thank you, sir—you are kind.”