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"Hell's bells and panther-tracks!" Mayor Poundstone started as if snake-bitten. "I should say you have hooked a big fish. Boy, you've landed a whale!" And the Mayor whistled softly in his amazement and delight. "By golly, to think of you getting in with that bunch! Tremendyous! Per-fect-ly tree-mend-yous! Did Ogilvy say anything about future business?" "He did.
Donald was apparently unconscious; so Mr. Daney knelt, placed his inquisitive nose close to the partly open lips, and sniffed. Then he swore his chiefest oath. "Hell's hells and panther-tracks! He isn't drunk. He's sick."
Then he remembered the complications that were about to ensue, and to the wonderment of several citizens of Port Agnew, he paused in front of the post-office, threw both arms aloft in an agitated flourish, and cried audibly: "Hell's bells and panther-tracks! I'd give a ripe peach to be in hell or some other seaport. O Lordy, Lordy, Lordy! And all the calves got loose!"
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