by W. C. Tuttle
Author of “Mary’s Little Lamb,” “With the Joker Wild,” etc.
“Well, she ain’t changed an awful lot since I left,” remarks Magpie
Simpkins, as he cuddles his long legs up under his chin and tilts his
chair against the side of the cabin.
“You can’t expect no big changes in uh wilderness like this in thirty
days,” says I, and he nods emphatic like and spits at uh lizard.
“The East looks good, Ike,” he proclaims.
“Did the East look good to you or did you look good to the East?” I
asks. “Seems to me that you gets uh heap civilized in thirty days.
What’s the idea uh that hard hat?”
“Last word in head-gear, Ike,” he states, picking the yaller,
pot-shaped thing off the ground, and patting it affectionate like.
“They calls ’em Darby hats. Did yuh notice that green and red shirt in
my valise? I annexes that in Chicago, Ill., U. S. A., and she sure is
uh humdinger. Got uh necktie pin in that valise, too, that only
assessed me ten dollars and eighty-five cents, and nobody what never
seen uh real diamond could tell the difference.”
“Being as ignorance is bliss around here yuh may make uh hit, Magpie,”
I replies. “The fact that yuh hangs your person full uh Christmas tree
ornaments don’t lessen my hankering to hear yuh tell about how much
capital yuh got interested in the Silver Threads.”
Magpie Simpkins is Ike Harper’s pardner, and I’m Ike Harper. We owns
the Silver Threads mine, four burros, uh little grub and uh desire to
find somebody with money to promote us.
Magpie’s physique is impressing, unless yuh views him edgeways, when
yuh can’t get more’n uh glimpse. He’s six feet several inches tall,
wears uh kind look and uh long mustache, and has the ability to let me
into more trouble than man is heir to.
When we gets nine hundred dollars’ worth uh gold out of our placer
mine on Plenty Stone Crick, Magpie gets the promoting itch. He orates
that in the East is uh tribe uh philanthropists who spend their time
hunting for uh shaft to sink their money in.
Also he opines that as uh hunter and finder uh this certain person he
can’t be beat or even tied. I protests audibly and often that we ought
to let gold enough alone, but when Magpie gets an idea like that it’s
all off until he’s proved that my objections were well founded.
Therefore and immediate he packs his valise—or rather one he borrows
from Buck Masterson, the saloon-keeper at Piperock, and pilgrims East.
I holds down uh chair on the shady side of our cabin for thirty days,
and tries to figure out how long it will take ’em to get Magpie’s nine
hundred away from him. He indicates in his departing words that his
stay is indefinite and his destination problematical, but he comes
back on the thirtieth day.
He pilgrims up from Piperock, with the taste uh ashes in his mouth, uh
yaller, hard hat on his head and kid gloves on his hands. I hands him
uh welcome and uh cigaret, and he humps up in my chair.
“She’s uh hard drag, Ike,” he states. “The tribe I mentioned is either
getting scarce or somebody has declared uh closed season on ’em. I
invades Pittsburg and Chicago and other places too numerous to
mention, but all I could find was folks who were kind enough to listen
while they took uh drink on me. When the drink was gone they all lost
their hearing, Ike.”
“Did yuh expect to find capitalists in grog shops?” I asked, chiding
like. “Moneyed men don’t get drunk—they gets intoxicated. Didn’t yuh
do uh thing to be thankful for, Magpie?”
He shakes his head, sad-like, and fumbles in his pocket. After
searching through all his clothes he comes back to the first pocket he
looks in, where it was all the time and he knowed it, and pulls out uh
letter.
“Ike, this is uh mystery,” he proclaims. “Honest to grandma, I don’t
know what it means, but this letter says it was paid for and is on its
way here. I didn’t think I got so drunk that I bought anything except
more drinks, but—well, take uh look at this.”
He hands me the letter. At the top it proclaims to be from the Fur and
Feathers Pet Shop, of Chicago. They orates that they handles each and
everything what wears fur and feathers, and will supply same with
cheer and great speed. The letter reads like this: