In fact, we never can be sure we've struck the right nail on the head until we see Lu hitting the high places, and never even looking back." "I must read that wonderful article again," quoth the admiring Thad.
"It's simply great the way Jim's written it up, and I'm sure that chap is bound to occupy an exalted place in newspaperdom down in New York one of these days when luck comes to him, and he emigrates that way." They scanned it line by line until they could almost repeat the whole story by heart, it made such a great impression on them.

Thad seemed more than amused over the idea that the good folks from Scranton would swallow it whole, and believe there was really a Texan marshal in their midst, looking right and left for a desperate character who had dropped down in that quiet and respectable neighborhood, thinking he would be safe from molestation there.
"Why, Hugh," he went on to say, exuberantly, "all today I warrant you hundreds of people here, women as well as boys and men, will be scanning every party who happens to be wearing a felt bat anything like the one Marshal Hastings is said to possess; and wondering if the stranger from Mechanicsville, or Allandale, or any other old place can be the wonderful Texan official, who according to Jim's graphic account has notches cut on the stocks of both his big revolvers to indicate just how many bad men he has been compelled to lay low during the course of his long and thrilling public career.
Oh! I feel just as if I wanted to drop down and laugh till my sides ached, it's such a rich joke.

That Jim will kill me yet with his wonderful write-ups." Hugh was apparently also highly amused, but he did not lose sight of the main facts in the case, as his next remark proved.
"Remember we settled it that we'd be around to look Jim up about half-past eight, instead of nine o'clock this morning.

Thad, it's getting near that time now, so perhaps we'd better be moving.

Jim might feel like starting a bit early, so as to give him more time later on for his regular duties.