Scenery Sims admits that he will. Scenery is a little, thin son of a gun, with a E-string voice, and owns the only horseless vehicle in Yaller Rock County.
“The ladies will be busy on their costumes,” says Magpie, “and there will be much decoratin’ to be did. The time is kinda short to complete all the details; but it is goin’ to be the biggest thing ever pulled off in the West. Our grandchildren will be proud of us.”
“Yours won’t be,” says Dirty Shirt.
It’s kind of a mean remark, bein’ as Magpie never was married. Nobody laughed, but those directly behind us kinda eased themselves aside out of the line of fire.
Magpie shook his head and polished the nail of his trigger finger on his right ear.
“We’ve got to be meek,” says he. “‘The meek shall inherit the earth.’”
“That won’t be a — of a lot of fun, if there ain’t nothin’ but meek ones left,” says I.
“There’ll be a — of a lot of earth to divide, too,” says Dirty Shirt.
And that’s all we knew about the meetin’. I’ve got a hunch that Dirty spoke up too quick. I told him that they’ve been arguin’ about me and him before we got there, but he don’t care. There ain’t a chance to steal them animals for Paradise, even if we was so inclined—which we ain’t—so we decided to let nature take its course.
Early the next mornin’ we finds Magpie paintin’ a big sign. He ain’t noways artistic, but readable. At the top is one word, in letters two feet high—