"What's all them rubes got ribbons on 'em fur?" asked Blister.
I followed his gaze to a group of variously garbed men and women who
had just rounded the paddock, and who slowly bore down upon us as they
drifted from stall to stall in a haphazard inspection of the great
racing plant at Latonia. Prominent upon the person of each member of
this party was a bountiful strip of yellow ribbon. The effect was
decidedly gay.
I had encountered similar ribbons in every nook and cranny of the Queen
City during the last few days, and I knew that each bore in thirty-six
point Gothic condensed, the words, "Ohio State Grange."
"Those are Ohio farmers and their wives who are attending a convention
in Cincinnati," I explained. "The ribbons are convention badges."
Blister allowed the saddle girth he was mending to lie unnoticed across
his knees as the delegates by twos and threes straggled past.
Each female member of the party carried a round paper fan with a cane
handle, and talked unceasingly. These streams of conversation were
entirely regardless of one another. It was as though many brooks
babbled onward side by side, but never joined. One fragment that
reached us, I preserved.
"An' I sez to the doctor when he come, sez I, 'Doctor, I ain't held a
bite on my stummick these three livelong days!'" This was delivered by
a buxom dame, fanning vigorously the meanwhile, and was noteworthy
since the lady was closely followed by a little man whose frailty
suggested dissolution, and who bore a large lunch box under one arm and
a heavy child upon the other.
The men appeared somewhat interested in the pampered nervous-looking
thoroughbreds, but made few comments. As compared to their women folk
they seemed more silent than the very tomb itself.
Long after the grangers had drifted out of our sight, Blister's
thoughts seemed devoted to them. Several times he chuckled to himself.
"Every time I see a bunch of rubes," he said at last, "it puts me in
mind of Butsy Trimble 'n' the new stalls at Lake Minnehaha Park."
"Lake Minnehaha Park," I repeated. "I never heard of such a place."
"It's up at Mount Clinton," Blister explained. "It's Ohio's beauty
spot."
"Get out!" I scoffed.
"Fact!" said Blister. "It says so right over the gates."
"Tell me about it," I demanded.
"This ain't been so long ago," said Blister. "The meetin' here at
Latonia is about over. Ole Whiskers has put the game on the fritz in
New York, so everybody's studyin' where to ship when get-away day
comes, 'n' the whole bunch is sore as bears--you can't get a pleasant
word from nobody.
"All I got in my string is some two-year-olds of Judge Dillon's. They
go back to the farm when the meetin' closes, so I ain't worried
none--not about where to ship.
"One night me 'n' Peewee Simpson is playin' pitch on a bale of hay with
a lantern. Butsy Trimble is settin' beside the bale readin' a hoss
paper.
"'Gimme high, jack, game--' says Peewee, after a hand.
"'I'll give you a poke in the nose!' I says. 'What you got fur game?'
"'I s'pose you want to count fur game--don't you?' says Peewee. 'I'll
give it to you sooner'n argue with you.'
"'You're right, you'll give it to me,' I says.
"'Well, I said I'd give it to you, didn't I?' says Peewee. 'You'd
rather argue'n eat, wouldn't you?'
"'All that's wrong with you,' I says, 'is you're sore 'cause you can't
hog game!'
"Peewee lays down his cards.
"'Now, look a here, you freckle-faced shrimp!' he says. 'Get off this
bale of hay--it'll _poison_ a hoss if _you_ set on it much longer!'
"'Whose bale of hay do you think this is?' I says. 'You tryin' to hog
_it_ like you does game?'
"'Gimme my lantern 'n' I'll be on my way,' says Peewee.
"'I puts the oil in that lantern,' I says, ''n' she sets right where
she is till she makes her last flicker.'
"'Cut it! Cut it!' says Butsy, spreadin' out his hoss paper. 'Act
like you has some sense, 'n' I puts you hep to a hot scheme I gets out
of this paper--us three can pull it off to a finish!'
"'I don't want in on no scheme with that lantern snatcher!' says Peewee
then to me.
"'If you don't age some,' I says to Peewee, 'nursie'll come around
here, 'n' put a nice fresh panty-waist on you!'
"Then Butsy goes ahead 'n' tells us the frame-up. He shows us an ad in
his paper askin' fur entries to race over the Ohio Short Ship Circuit.
This circuit is a bunch of race meets that's held on the bull rings at
county fairs up through the state. They're trottin' races mostly, but
they give one runnin' race at a different town each week.
"'Now,' says Butsy, 'I'm born 'n' raised in Mount Clinton, Ohio. I
sees the race meet there frequent 'n' she's a peach. You can have a
hoss lay down 'n' go to sleep on the track if you don't want him to win
'n' then tell the judges he's got spring fever. Everything goes except
murder. We'll take that black stud of mine 'n' Peewee's bay geldin'
'n' hit this punkin circuit. We can win a purse each week fur
travelin' expenses, 'n' what we cops on the side is velvet.'
"'What do you want me fur?' I says.
"'Why,' says Butsy, 'at these county fairs there ain't no bookies.
They just bets from hand to hand. While me 'n' Peewee rides, you
sashay out among the rubes 'n' get the coin down on whichever hoss we
frames to win.'
"We sets there 'n' talks over the proposition most all night. Butsy
says it's a cinch 'n' it ain't long till me 'n' Peewee figgers he's got
it doped right.
"'Let's go against it, Blister,' Peewee says to me. 'What do you say,
old pal?'
"'I'm there with bells on,' I says, 'n' that settles it. I ships my
colts to Judge Dillon, 'n' the next week we start.
"These punkin races is all half-mile dashes, best two out of three.
Peewee's geldin' is a distance hoss--he don't get goin' good under a
mile. In a bull-ring sprint he ain't got a chance with this black stud
of Butsy's.
"Our game is to have Butsy turn his dash-hound loose the first heat.
Then I ambulates out among the rubes 'n' acts like I'm willing to bet
on the bay geldin'. If I finds a live one, Butsy takes his hoss up in
his lap the last two trips 'n' Peewee comes on 'n' grabs the gravy.
"We figger the rubes'll eat it up after seein' that nice-lookin' black
stud romp away with the first heat. But right there the dope falls
down--the rubes ain't as dead as they look.
"In the first town we strike I eases up to a tall Jasper after the
black hoss has grabbed the opener on the bit.
"'Say, pardner,' I says, 'do you ever bet a piece of money on a race?'
"This Jasper is just a Adam's apple surrounded by arms 'n' legs.
"'Well, I should say as much,' he says. 'But most ginrally they wan't
nobody bet with me. Up in Liberty Township the boys call me Lucky
Andy.'
"'It's a crime to do this!' I says to myself. 'I'll make a little bet
with you, pardner,' I says out loud. 'Not much though--you're too
lucky!'
"'How was ye calkewlatin' to bet?' says the Jasper.
"'This black hoss acted kind-a tired to me,' I says. 'I'll just bet
you twenty bucks he don't win the race.'
"'You look like a smart little cuss,' he says. 'What's good enough fer
you is good enough fer me.' He beats it over to where another rube is
settin' in a buggy. 'Hi, Bill!' says my Jasper, 'I'll just bet ye
fifty cents the black hawse dun't win the race--even if I do lose!'
"That's the way it goes right along--the rubes stay away from it. Once
in a while I finds a mark but not often. We win a purse though in
every town 'n' this just about pays expenses. We ain't makin' nothin'
much, but we ain't losin' nothin' neither. We're eatin' regular 'n'
enjoyin' ourselves, except Butsy. _He_ wouldn't enjoy hisself at a dog
fight.
"This Butsy Trimble is a thin solemn gink 'n' he almost never cracks a
smile. He's got it doped out that everybody's agin him. Peewee 'n' me
has knocked around together so much we knows each other's ways, but we
ain't never had much to do with this Butsy, so we ain't wise to him at
first.
"It ain't long till Butsy begins to figger we're tryin' to hand it to
him. He gets sour-balled about everythin' we does. We try to kid him,
but he ain't hep to a kid 'n' he don't stand fur it like he'd ought.
His favorite stunt is to say he'll take his hoss 'n' quit. He springs
this right along.
"From the start this trip gets to Peewee's funny bone. He don't do
nothin' but laugh. Butsy don't see nothin' funny about it, 'n' he gets
to thinkin' Peewee's laughin' at him.
"Peewee'll lay in the stall at night 'n' laugh 'n' laugh. Pretty soon
he'll get me goin', 'n' then we'll lay 'n' snort fur a hour. Butsy
can't go to sleep 'n' he gets wild.
"'What th' hell are you laughin' at?' he says. 'If you don't cut this
out 'n' let me get my rest I'll quit the game tomorrow!'
"It gets so I don't dare look at Peewee fur fear we'll get started 'n'
Butsy'll quit.
"At a burg called Mansfield I finds a good bunch of live ones 'n' we
grabs off three hundred life-savers. It seems to help Butsy a lot--he
acts more cheerful right away.
"'Cherries are ripe,' he says. 'Our next town's Mount Clinton. I know
every boob in it. We'll sift some change out of them Knox County
plow-pushers.'
"We ships over the B. & O. to Mount Clinton. It's rainin' when we
unloads, 'n' Butsy ain't as cheerful as he was.
"'How far is it to the track?' Peewee says to him.
"'About three miles 'n' all hills,' says Butsy.
"'How do you get out?' says Peewee.
"'We could take the street-car if it wasn't fur the hosses,' says
Butsy. 'As it is we'll have to hoof it through the mud.'
"'Look-a here,' I says to Butsy, 'there's no sense in three of us
gettin' wet. You know the way 'n' we don't. You take the hosses 'n'
we'll come out on the street-car.'
"'I thought it 'ud be like that,' says Butsy. 'You two always pick out
the soft stuff fur yourselves 'n' hand me the lemons. I guess I'll
just put my hoss back in the freight car 'n' be on my way.'
"'Now, Butsy,' I says, 'have some sense! We ain't slippin' you
nothin'. I'd take the dogs 'n' leave you 'n' Peewee ride if I knew the
way. What do you want to make a crack about quittin' fur just as the
game's gettin' good?' I says. 'We cops a neat little bundle at our
last stop, 'n' we'll grab a nice piece of change here. I feel it in my
bones.'
"'All right,' says Butsy. 'I'll be the goat just once more--but take
it from me this is the last time!'
"'Send a wagon fur the trunk when you get up-town,' I says to Butsy
when he's goin'.
"'Furget it!' he says. 'Put her on the street-car. The car runs right
into Minnehaha Park 'n' you can unload her in front of the stalls.'
"'You can't take a trunk on a street-car,' I says.
"'Wait till you see this street-car,' says Butsy.
"'Ain't they but one?' says Peewee.
"'That's all,' says Butsy. 'Orphy Shanner runs it.'
"Me and Peewee stands a-waitin' fur the street-car fur thirty minutes,
then I goes into the freight depot office.
"'Is the street-car runnin'?' I says to the old gazink at the desk.
"'Ye can't rightly call it runnin',' he says. 'It ain't been settled
yet. Some claims she dun't, some claims she do. Them that claims she
dun't is those who've rid on her.'
"'Well, whatever she does,' I says, 'will she get here this mawnin'? I
got to get to the race track.'
"'I'll call up Orphy an' see,' says the old gazink. 'Hello, Tessie,'
he says, after he grinds away at the telephone handle fur a while.
'Git a-holt of Orphy Shanner fer me out to th' park--that's a good
girl.' In about ten minutes somebody begins to talk over the phone.
'Say, Orphy, this is Ed at the B. & O. Freight,' says the old gazink.
'I got a passenger down here fer ye.' Then he listens at the phone.
'I don't know who he is. He's a stranger tu me,' he says, 'n' listens
some more. 'All right, I'll tell him,' he says, 'n' hangs up the phone.
"'Orphy says fer me to tell ye thet he's comin' in to get Mrs. Boone at
the Public Square at eleven o'clock,' he says to me. 'He's goin' to
take her out High Street to a whisk party at Mrs. Pucker's, an' he'll
come down here an' git ye then.'
"'Why, it ain't ten o'clock yet,' I says.
"'Well, you kin set in here out of the rain an' wait,' he says.
"I thinks we better walk 'n' then I remembers that cussed trunk.
"'Much obliged,' I says. 'I'll go out 'n' get my friend.'
"'Be they two of ye?' says he. 'Jeerusalem, I told Orphy they wa'n't
but one.'
"When I gets back with Peewee, the old gazink pushes a couple of chairs
at us.
"'Set right down, boys,' he says, ''n' make yourselves mis'able.' Then
he puts a chew in his face that would choke a he-elephant 'n' begins to
ask us questions. The only thing he don't ask us he don't think of.
He'll stop right in the middle of a word 'n' say, 'pit-too-ee,' 'n' hit
a flat box full of sawdust dead center. I don't see him miss once.'
"After he's got us pumped dry he begins to tell us what _he_ knows, 'n'
believe me he's got a directory beat to a custard. He hands us some
info about everybody who's alive in Mount Clinton 'n' then starts in on
the cemetery. He works back till he's talkin' about some 'dead an'
gone these twenty year,' as he says.
"I happens to look at Peewee--Peewee's in a trance. He can't look
away. He's noddin' his head 'n' his eyes has got a glassy stare. I
goes outside quick 'n' lays up against the side of the buildin'.
"When I get back the old gazink is still workin' on Peewee, but all of
a sudden he stops 'n' listens.
"'Pit-too-ee--there's your car, boys!' he says, 'n' then I begins to
hear a groanin' sound.
"Man! they ain't no way to tell you about that street-car! She falls
to pieces only they wraps all the upper parts together with wire till
she looks like a birdcage. A big freckled guy with red hair is runnin'
her 'n' I know just by lookin' at him it's Orphy.
"'Howdy, boys,' he says to us when he gets to where we're standin'.
'Jump aboard! I'm goin' down far as the pumpin' station an' the brakes
ain't workin' just like they'd ought-a this mornin'.'
"'We've got a trunk,' I says.
"'Oh!' he says, 'n' spins the whirligig. She keeps right on goin'.
Then he runs back 'n' yanks the trolley off, 'n' she begins to slow
down. 'Git your trunk an' fetch it to where I stop at!' he hollers.
'The cut-off ain't workin' just like it ought-a this mornin'.'
"We lugs the trunk down to the car 'n' puts her on the back platform.
"'That's the way things goes!' says Orphy. 'I hadn't figgered on no
trunk. Ed never tells me nothin' about it. You better set on it,' he
says. 'The seats ain't just in first-class shape this mornin'.' I
looks inside at the seats, 'n' he's got it doped right--some chickens
has spent the night on 'em.
"After we gets to goin' Orphy pokes his head in the door.
"'The company don't allow me to handle the money,' he says. 'But my
friends most gen'ally drop the fare down the right-hand side of the
slot.'
"Me 'n' Peewee goes forward 'n' looks at the money box. The front of
the car has warped till there's a big crack in the right-hand side of
the box you can see the platform through. I drops two nickels in on
that side, 'n' bing! they go down the shoot 'n' out the crack. They
falls on the platform 'n' Orphy picks 'em up 'n' goes south with 'em.
"'That's what I call a live guy!' says Peewee. 'I'm proud to know him.'
"Pretty soon Orphy comes back 'n' jerks the trolley off 'n' we stop on
a big square with a monument in the middle.
"'We got to wait here at the Public Square fer Mrs. Boone,' he says.
"In about twenty minutes here comes a dame across the Square. She's
sixteen hands high 'n' will girt according. She belongs in the
heavy-draft class 'n' she's puffin' some.
"'How-dee-do, Orphy,' she says. 'I'm a mite late, but I didn't get
shet of my peach butter as quick as I aimed to.'
"'That's all right, Missus Boone,' says Orphy. 'The company allows me
a liberal schedool. Set right down on the trunk, Missus Boone. I
wouldn't resk the seats this mornin' if I was you.'
"'What's wrong with 'em?' says Mrs. Boone, 'n' pokes her head in the
door. 'Land a Liberty!' she says. 'I shall certainly write to the
_Banner_ about this! I call it disgraceful!' Then she sets down on
the trunk.
"I'm standin' up, but Peewee's still on it. She covers the whole
trunk, but a little corner, 'n' Peewee tries to set on that.
"'Why don't you give the lady some room?' I says to Peewee, 'n' he gets
up 'n' leaves her have the trunk.
"'You're a real polite young man,' says Mrs. Boone to me.
"We ain't more'n got started when the dame lets out a holler.
"'Orphy!' she yells, 'Stop! Wait a minute! Whoa!' Orphy comes 'n'
yanks off the trolley.
"'I declare to goodness!' says Mrs. Boone. 'I've furgot my rubbers.
Run up and get them for me, Orphy--they're behind the door in the front
hall.'
"'I'd like to oblige you real well, Mrs. Boone,' says Orphy, 'but the
company don't allow me to leave the car when I'm on duty--'
"'Well, I call lookin' after your customers bein' on duty,' says Mrs.
Boone. 'Now, you skip an' get my rubbers, Orphy Shanner!'
"Orphy beats it fur the rubbers.
"While he's gone Mrs. Boone goes 'n' drops a nickel down the chute, but
she don't put it in the right side 'n' it trickles down into the box.
When Orphy gets the car started after he's back, he turns 'round 'n'
gives a sad look at the nickel in the box.
"'Stung!' says Peewee, 'n' I think he's goin' to fall off the car.
"'What ails that young man?' says Mrs. Boone to me. 'He seems to be
havin' a spell.'
"'It ain't nothin',' I says. 'He'll be all right in a minute.'
"We lets Mrs. Boone off after while 'n' keeps on goin' fur a mile or so
till we come to some gates. In gold letters over the gates is 'Ohio's
Beauty Spot,' 'n' below that in bigger letters yet is 'Lake Minnehaha
Park.' We goes through these gates 'n' there's the track. More'n half
the center-field is took up by a baseball diamond. In the other half
is a pond with a shoot-the-chutes runnin' down into it.
"'Where's the lake?' Peewee says to Orphy.
"'Right in front of your nose,' says Orphy, pointin' at the pond.
"'She's some body of water,' says Peewee. 'If you ain't careful a big
rough guy'll come along here with a tin cup some dark night 'n' go
south with her.'
"'I guess not,' says Orphy. 'She's four feet deep--in spots.'
"When we come in sight of the stalls, there's Butsy standin' in the
rain with the hosses. A big bunch of Jaspers is holdin' a meetin' out
in front of a row of bran'-new stalls that's just been put up. There's
a hot argument goin' on 'n' they don't pay no attention to the rain.
"'You gone dippy?' I says to Butsy. 'What are you standin' out in the
rain with the dogs fur? Why don't you put 'em up?'
"'No chance,' says Butsy. 'All the stalls is took except these new
ones, 'n' the guy who furnished the lumber fur 'em won't unlock 'em
till he's paid.'
"I looks at the stalls--there's a great big padlock on each door.
"'Why don't they slip him the coin?' I says.
"'You can search me,' says Butsy. 'That's what they're chewin' the rag
about now.'
"Me 'n' Peewee slides over to where the crowd is.
"'I'll have the law on ye sure!' a old Jasper is sayin'. He's got on a
long-tailed coat 'n' a white string tie.
"'Edge right in!' whispers Peewee to me. 'It ain't goin' to cost you a
cent!'
"'You ain't got no right to lock them stalls, Jim Burns!' says the old
Jasper. 'They belong to the Knox County Agricultural Society!'
"'Not till I'm paid fer the lumber, they don't!' says the guy he calls
Jim Burns. 'Gimme eighty-six dollars, Kurnel, if you want to use them
stalls.'
"'I'll have the law on ye sure as my name's Hunter!' says the old
Jasper.
"'I guess you won't,' says Burns. 'My lawyer tells me to lock them
stalls.'
"'Who's your lawyer?' says the old Jasper.
"Harry Evans," says Burns.
"'Well, why ain't he here?' says the old Jasper.
"'That's right--he'd ought to be here!' says several in the crowd.
"'I told him to come two hours ago,' says Burns. 'Say, Orphy!
Telephone in an' find out why Harry ain't here!'
"Orphy climbs off the car 'n' goes in a shed 'n' we hears the telephone
bell jingle. Pretty soon he comes back.
"'Missus Evans says Harry's fixin' a clock,' says Orphy. 'He's purty
nigh through, an' he aims to git out here soon as she'll strike right.
He's comin' in his autymobile.'
"The crowd gives a groan. Burns throws up his hands.
"'He'd a damn sight better walk,' he says.
"The argument sort-a dies down while they're waitin' fur this Harry
Evans.
"'Come on!' Peewee says to me. 'I got to tell Butsy the good news.'
"I see the rain tricklin' off Butsy's nose when we get close to him.
"'Stay with it, Butsy!' says Peewee. 'They got a lawyer comin' in a
auto--'
"'Come 'n' hold these dogs fur a while!' says Butsy.
"'I'd like to,' says Peewee, 'but I can't. I might miss somethin','
'n' he goes back to where the crowd is.
"We waits fur about a hour.
"'Why don't ye git a lawyer that ain't got no autymobile?' says
somebody to Burns.
"'They've all got 'em,' says Burns. 'I'll give ye a dollar fer every
lawyer in Mount Clinton ye can name who ain't got one of the blame
things!'
"'How about Sam Koons?' says somebody.
"'Got one just the other day,' says Burns. 'It's made up to Bucyrus.
It's called the Speeding Queen. He give three hundred and twenty
dollars cash fer it.'
"Not long after that I begins to notice a noise. It ain't like any
other sound I ever hears before. It gets right into my system. It's
gettin' closer 'n' pretty soon I think I'll go find a nail 'n' bite on
it.
"'What's that?' says Peewee.
"'It's him,' says Burns. 'It's Harry. If he don't have no bad luck
he'll be here in twenty minutes. He ain't over a half a mile away
right now.'
"'I hope they ain't no children on the road,' says Peewee.
"I figgers this Harry Evans is sure ridin' a threshin'-machine with its
insides loose, but when he comes through the gates I gets a shock.
Say,--his machine ain't much bigger'n a good-sized sardine can! It's
painted red 'n' smoke's comin' out of the front of it. I can roll
faster'n it's movin', but it keeps a-shakin' so he can't hardly set in
the seat.
"When it's pretty close I see he's a little guy with specs 'n' a yellow
coat on, but he's bein' shook so I can't hardly see what he does look
like.
"'How-dee-do!' he says, when he gets her stopped. 'Er,--it occurs to
me that I may be a little late. . . . Will any of you gentlemen
indulge in a Cuban Beauty?' He fishes some long black stogies out of
his pocket, but they don't nobody go against 'em, except him--he lights
one.
"Then the crowd shows him the locked stalls 'n' everybody takes a shot
at tellin' him what ought to be did.
"'Er,--it occurs to me,' says this Harry Evans, 'that there is a simple
way out of the--er--difficulty.'
"'There's class to him,' says Peewee.
"'How's that?' says some one in the crowd.
"'If Colonel Hunter here will tender me--er--eighty-six dollars in
behalf of my client,' says Harry Evans, 'I'll instruct my client to
unlock the stalls.'
"'There you are!' says Peewee.
"The big Jasper lets out a fierce roar.
"'Not by a damn sight!' says he. 'We leased these grounds with the
full use an' privilege of all buildin's an' other fixtures an'
appurtenances fur the purpose of holdin' a fair. We weren't aimin' to
get skinned out of eighty-six dollars by no lumber concern, 'n' we
ain't a-goin' to neither!'
"'Let's see your lease?' says Harry Evans.
"'It's back in town at my office,' says the old Jasper.
"'Who signed it?' says Harry Evans.
"'Judge Tate signed it,' says the old Jasper.
"'Er,--if that's the case,' says Harry Evans, 'get him out here. He's
receiver for the Park Company and you can make him pay this claim.'
"The whole bunch says that's a good idea. So they tell Orphy to go in
'n' get this Judge Tate.
"'I got to go 'n' tell Butsy there's a judge comin'!' says Peewee.
"'Butsy's sore about somethin',' he says when he gets back.
"This Judge Tate unloads hisself from the car when Orphy brings him,
like he's the most important piece of work fur miles around. He has
little side-whiskers 'n' a bay-window with a big gold chain stretched
across it. He holds a umbrella over hisself with one hand 'n' wiggles
the watch-chain with the other.
"'Ahem--gentlemen, what can I do for you?' he says.
"'Something doing now!' says Peewee to me. 'This is God-a'mighty's
right-hand man!'
"'Er--Judge,' says Harry Evans, 'we are having a dispute concerning
certain buildings on these premises, and--er--it occurred to me you
could settle the matter.'
"'Settle is the word,' says Peewee to me.
"'As receiver for the Park Company, Judge,' says Harry Evans, 'can you
tell us--er--who the buildings on these premises belong to?'
"'Why--ahem--' says the judge, 'it is my understanding that all the
buildings of every sort and description belong to the Park Company,
irrespective of any improvements that the--ahem--lessees may see fit to
make.'
"'Now yer talkin',' says Burns. 'Just hand me eighty-six dollars due
fer lumber on them new stalls--you claim to own em.
"'A-he-m!' says the judge. 'That's a different matter. The
Agricultural Society is responsible for those stalls. The man you
should see about your claim is Alf Dingle. I happen to know there is a
certain sum of money in the treasury and I kind of think Alf will pay
this claim. Why don't you try to get him to come out here?'
"They argue a while 'n' then it's thought best to send fur Alf Dingle.
But Orphy has took the street-car 'n' went.
"'That's the way it goes,' says the old Jasper they call colonel.
'He's a-chasin' around town with that car instead of stayin' here
tendin' to his business!'
"'I'll go in and get Alf,' says Harry Evans, startin' fur his machine.
"Nobody says nothin'.
"'I ain't got the heart to tell Butsy,' says Peewee.
"Harry Evans begins to turn the handle on his machine. He turns it fur
ten minutes. When he's all in, he straightens up.
"'Somebody'll have to help me crank her,' he says.
"The crowd goes to work. They all take turns. But she don't start.
"'Er--it occurs to me there may be something wrong with her,' says
Harry Evans, 'n' starts to lift off the cover where the machinery is.
Peewee gives me a poke in the ribs.
"'I expect he's right,' he says.
"'I'm gettin' all-fired tired of this putterin' around,' says the old
Jasper. 'Tom', he says to a guy in overalls, 'get a crowbar an' knock
them padlocks off.'
"'If you do that I'll put ye in jail!' yells Burns. 'That's a criminal
act! It's destruction of property with burglarious intent! Ain't it,
Harry?'
"Harry comes up out of the machinery. There's grease even on his specs.
"'It's the carbureter,' he says.
"'I'll leave it to the judge!' hollers Burns. 'Ain't that a criminal
act?'
"'A--hem!' says the judge, 'I am not prepared to say you have the right
to those stalls, but I wouldn't advise breaking a lock. As you say,
it's a criminal act.'
"Just then here comes Orphy rollin' through the gates.
"'You hustle in an' git Alf Dingle!' says the old Jasper to him. 'An'
when you git back, you stay here where you're needed!'
"The crowd has moved 'round back of the stalls to watch Harry Evans
work on his machine. I stands with 'em fur a while, but Peewee has
left. All of a sudden I see him poke his head 'round the end of the
new stalls 'n' give me the high sign.
"'What you standin' out in the rain fur?' he says, when I gets near him.
"'What else can I do?' I says.
"'Come on 'n' I'll show you,' says Peewee.
"He leads me round in front of the stalls. In two of 'em is the hosses
all bedded down nice. Butsy is settin' in the stall with his stud. He
makes a puddle wherever he sets.
"'How did you get 'em open?' I says.
"'They ain't locked,' says Peewee. 'None of 'em are. The padlocks is
closed, _but not locked_.'
"_No_,' I says.
"'It's the truth!' says Peewee, 'n' we rolls in the straw a-holdin' to
each other till I feel like I'd been stepped on by a draft hoss.
"Butsy gets up.
"'Just one more snicker out of either of you,' he says, ''n' I lead my
hoss to the depot!'
"I see he means it 'n' I gets my head down in the straw 'n' holds my
breath. Butsy stands there a-lookin' at us.
"'Has Alf come yet?' says Peewee, but he don't look at me.
"'Not yet, but he's expected,' I says, 'n' Peewee sticks his head down
in the straw 'n' makes a noise like Harry Evans' machine. I does the
same.
"As soon as I can see again, there's Butsy leadin' his hoss fur the
gate.
"'Now you've done it,' I says to Peewee.
"Peewee sets up 'n' takes a look.
"'Hi, Butsy!' he yells, 'come on back here! We weren't laughin' at
you!'
"But Butsy keeps right on a-goin'."