“Sho,” the other said. “We’ll take out soon as Dewey Dell comes back. She went to deliver a package.”
So they stood there with the folks backed off with handkerchiefs to their faces, until in a minute the girl came up with that newspaper package.
“Come on,” the one with the cement said, “we’ve lost too much time.” So they got in the wagon and went on. And when I went to supper it still seemed like I could smell it. And the next day I met the marshal and I began to sniff and said,
“Smell anything?”
“I reckon they’re in Jefferson by now,” he said.
“Or in jail. Well, thank the Lord it’s not our jail.”
“That’s a fact,” he said.