"They're sworn in by now. He said he was expecting 'em any minute when I left."
"Shillman's the nearest," said Tip, glancing out of the partly frosted window pane, "and he lives forty miles away. I wouldn't count on those boys being appointed to-day. The storm may have kept 'em away."
"No such luck," growled the judge. "They're appointed, all right enough."
"Think so if it makes you happy," Tip said with a grin. "You're always such a pessimist."
"Here!" snarled the judge. "Don't you try to ride me, Tip. Say right out what you mean."
"I did," smiled Tip. "However——"
"Huh," snorted the judge, and put his feet on the table and began to pull at his lower lip.
"Shotgun Shillman and Riley Tyler," murmured Tip musingly. "Hum-m-m!"
"Can't you think of anything to do but buzz like a bee?" demanded the irritated judge.
"There's lots of things you can learn from bees," protested Tip O'Gorman. "Maybe they do buzz some, but they gather lots of honey."