Magpie looks at me sort of sad-like.
“What do you think, Ike?”
“When does the battle begin?”
“The celebration will be on Tuesday.”
“This is Sunday,” says I, “which gives one whole day to dig ourselves in and two whole nights to spend in prayer. Go ahead, Magpie, and may the Lord have mercy on the children ’cause there won’t be no old folks next year.”
Piperock ain’t changed none to speak about. As we pilgrims into the main street we sees “Tellurium” Woods gallop out of Buck’s place, and just as he skids into Pete Gonyer’s blacksmith shop we hears the bang of a gun. Then out of the saloon comes “Tombstone” Todd. He peers all around.
“Whyfor the salute, Tombstone?” asks Magpie.
“Salute ——! Think I’m shooting blanks? Tellurium argued that I ain’t eligible to stay here for Old Home Week. Said the only time I ever was here a delegation comes from Paradise, decorates me plentiful with tar and feathers and rides me off on a rail. Dang Tellurium’s hide!”
“Don’t you remember the incident, Tombstone?” asks Magpie.
“Don’t I? Sufferin’ snakes, I didn’t moult for two months! Scenery said I could stay here as long as I dwelt in harmony and brotherly love, and, by cripes, I’m going to foller the recipe if I has to decimate the whole danged village.”