“Sarcasm is the weapon of the ignorant,” says Magpie. “What heard ye in Paradise?”
“Nothin’ much.”
“No? Huh. Did yuh know that Paradise is emulatin’ us—or is goin’ to?”
“All fools ain’t dead yet,” opines Dirty Shirt.
“They’ve ordered a elephant, camel and a tiger,” says Magpie. “They’re payin’ a big price for ’em, just to keep Piperock from leadin’ the procession. Telescope Tolliver and Muley Bowles told us about it today. Telescope said he thought we ought to know about it.”
“Yeah, we heard about it,” says Dirty Shirt, kinda off-handed like. “It didn’t mean nothin’ to us.”
“Well, we’re holdin’ a indignation meetin’ tomorrow night,” says Magpie. “We aims to protest openly against such practise. It ain’t ethical. You and Ike be there, will yuh? Up in the Mint Hall. The ladies auxiliary will be there, et cettery. We don’t wish for blood to be spilled. It’s ag’in our principles and regulations; but, by grab, they’ll go too far pretty soon—and have to get helped back.”
The next day is kinda quiet in Piperock; but when Piperock is quiet she’s dangerous. Wick Smith ain’t at the store, and Mrs. Smith ain’t got much use for me and Dirty; so we keep away. After samplin’ some wobble water we pilgrims down to the livery-stable to see how Hassayampa is comin’.
But we don’t find Hassayampa in charge. Wick Smith meets us at the door, and he looks as wise as a owl.
“Whatcha want?” he asks.