"What have Johnson and Kenealy done for the party?"

"For one thing, they have always voted right."

"That is one thing, but not a large thing. Other men have voted right too--frequently. Some too frequently; if you know what I mean."

"Politics, my dear fellow, is not child's play. We do what we must to win. But it doesn't pay to look a gift horse in the mouth too closely.

He may bite." Tip O'Gorman stared at the new sheriff.

The latter smiled a long, slow smile. "There are muzzles," said Bill Wingo.

Tip dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "Too big a horse and too many teeth," said he.

"Ah!" murmured Billy Wingo.

"Come, come, Bill, you're no fool. You know what I'm after. You know what you owe the party. Johnson and Kenealy must be taken care of."

"Must," observed Billy, "is the hardest word in the dictionary."

"Sometimes it means the most," declared Tip O'Gorman. "This is one of those times."

"Ah!"

There it was again, that irritating monosyllable. For the first time Tip O'Gorman began to experience a doubt.

"We expect you to appoint Johnson and Kenealy," he said bluntly.

"And if I don't?"

"Oh, you will--after you've thought it over."

"I thought it over after Judge Driver came to me. And I decided not to. I prefer my own men."

"Johnson and Kenealy will be your own men."

"That is a question." Billy sat back in his chair and made a church roof and a steeple with the fingers of his two hands. He raised lazy gray eyes to Tip's face. "That is a question," he repeated. "They may be my men and then again--" He ceased speaking, leaving the sentence unfinished. The church steeple became a gallows. "You see, I can't risk it," drawled Billy.

Tip O'Gorman carefully set his gla.s.s down on the table. "You must," he remarked softly.

"As I said before," murmured Billy, his drawl drawlier than ever, "must is a hard, hard word. But I'll tell you what I'll do, Tip," he continued in a louder, more cheerful tone. "You show me what 'musts'

in the statutes apply to the sheriff's office, and I'll obey every last one of 'em. When I took office, I made oath to obey and support the laws, you know."

He smiled at Tip. The latter smiled back. "Lookit here, Bill," he said in his best and most fatherly fashion, "I like you----"

"I suppose that was why I was elected," interrupted Billy.

"Partly," was the brazen reply. "But there were other reasons, of course. We needed a good man to win, a man that was on the level, an honest man, a----"

"Not a crooked man, or a dishonest man, or a pink man, or even a man with purple spots. So you elected me. I'll take it as a compliment.

Go on."

"A straight man doesn't throw down his friends," said Tip O'Gorman.

"Sure not," declared Billy warmly. "He'd be a pup if he did. I agree with you, Tip. We won't fight over that."

"You're throwing us down," insisted Tip.

"Now, we're getting down to carpet tacks," said Billy. "But who are 'us'?"

"The party."

"The party?"

"The party."

"But the party and my friends are not necessarily the same thing."

"We elected you."

"That doesn't make you my friends. Understand me, Tip, there are a lot of folks in the party I like and admire--a lot of 'em. But the folks I like and admire don't come to me and give me orders, and my friends don't either. Not that you've been giving me any orders, Tip. You wouldn't do such a thing."

"It's all right to ride me," said Tip, without losing for a minute his amiable smile, "but you might better leave off the spurs."

"I ain't riding anything to-day," averred Billy. "There's the bowl.

Dip you out another gla.s.sful."

Tip O'Gorman did not accept the invitation. "I wish I could make you understand," he said slowly, crossing his legs and clasping both hands around a plump knee. "This is a serious matter, Bill."

"Sure it is," a.s.serted Billy. "You're serious. I'm serious. He, she or it is serious. Outside of that, it's a fine, large evening."

"Lookit here, Bill, what's your game?"

"Game? What game are you talking about?"

"What do you want? What are you after, anyway?"

Billy made swimming motions with his arms and hands. "Paddle out, paddle out. You're over my head and getting deeper."

"Are you trying to give me the double-cross?" inquired Tip.

"Now why should I do a fool thing like that?"

"I don't know. I'm asking."

"What makes you think I'm giving you the double-cross?"

"The first favor I ever asked of you--the appointment of these two men."

"When I was elected, then, it wasn't intended I should have a free hand?"