"They had a bill as long as my arm for license--we couldn't get by with the five-dollar one--and for lights and hall rent and what-all.

There wasn't enough money in the house to pay it! And they was going to send us to jail! The sheriff acted anything but a gentleman, Mister, and if you ever lived in this town and liked it, I must say I question your taste!" "We wouldn't use a town like this for a garbage dump, back home," cut in Jack with all the contempt he could master.
"And they hauled us over to their dirty old Justice of the Peace, and he told us he'd give us thirty days in jail if we was in the county to-morrow noon, and we don't know how far this county goes, either way!" "Fifty miles to St.Simon," Bill told them comfortingly.

"You can make it, all right--" "We can make it, hey?
How're we going to make it, with our car layin' around all over your garage ?" Jack's tone was arrogant past belief.
Casey was fumbling for strap buckles which he could not reach.

He was also groping through his colorful, stage-driver's vocabulary for words which might be pronounced in the presence of a lady, and finding mighty few that were of any use to him.

The combined effort was turning him a fine purple when the lady was seized with another brilliant idea.
"Jack dear, don't be harsh.