Mebbe you can catch him before he gets out of town." Mrs.Gashwiler descended from the car.
"You better have that clothesline back by seven o'clock to-morrow morning," she warned the offender.
"Yes, ma'am, I will." This was not spoken in a Buck Benson manner.
"And say"-- Gashwiler paused in turning the car--"what you doing in that outlandish rig, anyhow?
Must think you're one o' them Wild West cowboys or something.

Huh!" This last carried a sneer that stung.
"Well, I guess I can pick out my own clothes if I want to." "Fine things to call clothes, I must say.

Well, go see if you can pick out that horse if you're such a good picker-out." Again Gashwiler was pleased with himself.

He could play venomously with words.
"Yes, sir," said Merton, and plodded on up the alley, followed at a respectful distance by the Ransom kiddies, who at once resumed their vocal exercises.
"He throwed you off right into the dirt, didn't he, Merton?
Mer-tun, didn't he throw you off right into the dirt ?" If it were inevitable he wished that they would come closer.

He would even have taken little Woodrow by the hand.