Excerpt
Even for a funeral, Pete Torgerson’s service was a glum affair,
Spanger thought. Everyone who could be expected to attend a
mayor’s funeral was there. The lieutenant governor, looking preoccupied,
represented the state administration. The minister read the
23rd Psalm, the choir sang “In The Garden,” people paid the
widow their respects at the reception, and all went home with a
sense of relief.
The hobo measure slipped off the council’s agenda. Not even
Frank Stout mentioned it again. The council set a special election
for November to fill the final year of Torgerson’s term and
appointed Ken Spear to serve as acting mayor in the interim.
Spanger knew Spear would run.A group of businessmen
was trying to convince Spanger to be a candidate. Without
Torgerson to contend with, he had the opportunity to mould
the police department into the organization he wanted. Still, he
liked the idea of leading the town. His family could not live on the
salary of a part-time mayor, but his share in the orchard produced a
fair income, and the prospect of spending more time on the ranch
appealed to him. Politics wasn’t what he had educated himself for,
but it could be what he was meant to do. When he asked Phyllis
about it, she said, “Is that what you want?” Up here at the top of the
valley, he thought it was.
