AT THE POST OFFICE IN BEARTOWN
Although Mike Murphy rarely got the worst of it in a bout at repartee, he
had the true sporting instinct and liked the winner because of his
victory. It took a bright person to beat him, but it did happen now and
then, and he enjoyed a clash of wits with one who proved his master,
though in the long run the youth generally came out ahead.
When, therefore, the girl in the post office at Beartown snapped out the
remark just printed, he was roused to admiration. He threw back his head
and the store rang with his infectious laughter.
"Begorra! ye were too much for me that time. If ye'll not think me
impudent, I beg the privilege of shaking hands wid ye."
The merry sprite, laughing almost as heartily as he, though with less
noise, reached a dainty hand across the counter and he grasped it. From
behind the rack at the front of the store, the gentle mother beamed with
a smile. She had heard and understood it all.
"I am afraid, Nora, you were rude to the gentleman," she said in her
silvery voice.
"Not a bit!" was the hearty response of Mike. "I got it that time where
the chicken got the axe--which the same is in the neck. It was a fair hit
and I desarved more, though no one could give it to me."
It may be said that this little incident fixed Mike in the favor of
mother and daughter. It was hard to resist the rollicking good nature of
the Irish youth, who was equally impressed by the gentle goodness of the
mother and the sprightly wit of the daughter. He now called a halt with
his nonsense and gave a true account of the situation. His two companions
were the sons of wealthy parents and one of them owned a beautiful motor
launch which broke down while descending the river from Wiscasset. He had
left the two trying to tinker it in shape, but had doubts of their
success. In case they failed, it would be very pleasing to them if they
could get supper and lodging in Beartown. Would the good woman advise
them where to apply?
She replied that she would be glad to meet their wants, though they would
be disappointed with the poor meals and lodging, for she knew they must
be accustomed to much better. This was the invitation for which Mike was
angling and he promptly accepted, assuring the woman that it was a fine
piece of good fortune which more than repaid them for the disabling of
their engine.
"They may repair it and go home," suggested Nora.
"That will make no difference, for I sha'n't return to them till night
comes and then they'll have no ch'ice."
"They may not wait for you," said Nora.
"Little fear of their laving widout me, so nothing will be done till I
arrive, as Brian O'Lynn said when he was walking forth to be hanged."
With no other purpose in mind than to force his friends to stay over
night in the village, Mike Murphy loitered. When the mother and daughter
were not engaged with customers he entertained them by his quaint
remarks, which kept the smile on their faces. He had seated himself, on
the invitation of Nora, in a chair at the rear of the store, where he was
in no one's way and where he could make use of his eyes. Thus it came
about that he observed several interesting facts.
Mrs. Friestone and Nora made up the whole force of the store, which did a
considerable trade in groceries and articles such as a village community
needs. Furthermore, the abundant and excellent stock showed that the
owner was not only enterprising but understood her business. The other
store in Beartown hardly rose to the dignity of a rival.
It may as well be said at this point that her husband, who had been dead
six years, went through the whole war for the Union and was badly wounded
several times. President Grant personally complimented Captain Friestone
for his bravery in battle, and when he became President appointed him as
postmaster at Beartown. He suffered so grievously from his old wounds
that the small post office and his pension were all that saved him and
his young wife from actual want. He took up storekeeping in a small way,
gradually branching out until he had established a flourishing business,
whereupon he did an almost unheard of thing. As soon as he knew his
future was secure, he notified the government that he would no longer
accept a pension and he stuck to the resolution.
The veteran was retained in office by the successors of President Grant
until his death, when the appointment was given to his widow, not a
member of the community asking for a change. The income was meagre, but
the widow had become accustomed to the duties, having performed them
during the last years of her husband's life, and she liked the work. The
store paid so well that it more than met the wants of the two.
When the cheering thousands welcomed the soldiers returning from the war,
a proud father held his little girl on his shoulder and she waved her
hand joyously to the bronzed heroes some of whom were still little more
than boys. One laughing soldier snatched away the child and kissed her.
He was Captain Friestone and the girl was Bessie Elton. The acquaintance
thus begun ripened until the time arrived for her to put on long dresses,
and by and by she became the happy bride of the officer, and never a
shadow darkened their hearthstone until Death called and took away the
brave husband and father.
Mike noticed that a massive safe stood behind the counter in a corner at
the rear of the store. The ponderous door was open, for mother and
daughter had frequent cause to use the repository. Within the steel
structure all the stamps, government funds and daily cash receipts were
deposited at the close of the day's business. The value of these was
slight, but the safe contained a great deal more. While Nora was lighting
the five kerosene lamps, suspended on brackets at favorable points in the
store, a middle aged and somewhat corpulent man bustled in, nodded to the
widow and handed her a large sealed envelope. Mike heard him say,
"Twenty-five hundred," and she replied "Very well." It was evident that
he had brought in that amount of money and left if for security with her.
On the back of the envelope--though of course the youth did not see
this--was written in a large, round hand, "C. Jasper, $2500."
The widow walked to the rear of the store, drew out one of the small
central drawers of the safe and placed the big envelope in it, still
leaving the heavy door open, though the little drawer was locked with a
tiny key.
Five minutes later, a second man, thin, nervous and alert, stepped
through the door, glanced sharply around and passed a similar envelope to
the woman. On the back of it was written, "G. H. Kupfer--$1250."
"You will please give me a receipt," he said in his brisk fashion. The
reply was gentle:
"I cannot do that."
"Why not? It's simple business."
"Mr. Kupfer, because you have more faith in my safe than in your small
one, you bring your money to me. I have not asked it; I should rather not
have it, and I do it only to accommodate you, besides which I charge you
nothing. If burglars should break in and steal your money, I cannot be
responsible. Do I make that clear to you?"
"Why, Mrs. Friestone, I have no fear of that sort; I only ask that you
give me a receipt merely as a matter of record and to save you possible
annoyance. Suppose anything should happen to me--such as my death--my
folks would be put to great trouble to get this money."
"That cannot possibly occur, for your name and the amount are written on
the sealed envelope; I know every member of your family, and in the event
you speak of I should hand it personally to some one of them. On no other
condition will I take your money for safe keeping. Follow your own
pleasure."
"Oh, well," replied the caller, with a nervous laugh, "have it as you
please. I have left money with you before and haven't suffered. But
say----"
As the keen eyes flitted around the store, he saw Mike Murphy sitting
under one of the lamps and looking as if he was not listening to their
conversation. Mr. Kupfer leaned over the counter and lowered his voice:
"Who is he?"
"A young gentleman."
"I don't like his looks."
"Then I advise you not to look at him," was the reply.
"How long is he going to hang round the store?"
"Just so long as it suits his pleasure to do so. He and two of his
friends are going to take supper and stay overnight with us."
"Do you know anything about the two?"
"I have never seen them, and I never saw this young gentleman till this
afternoon."
The caller turned his face and scanned Mike more closely. The youth, who
was boiling with anger, tried to look as if unaware of the insulting
action.
"Please hand that package back," said Mr. Kupfer, with a compression of
his thin lips.
Without a word, the widow passed the envelope to the man, who whisked
through the open door, fairly leaping off the porch to the dusty path.
Who shall describe the emotions of Mike Murphy during these exasperating
moments? He recalled the experience of Alvin and Chester, as they related
it to him, when they were arrested as post office robbers some days
before, and now something similar in essence had come to him. But what
could he do? He would have liked to pummel the one who had insulted him,
but that was impracticable, inasmuch as he had not addressed any words to
the youth.
While he was fuming and glaring at the door through which the man had
disappeared, Mike heard a soft chuckle behind him. He whisked his head
around and saw Nora standing beside the safe just back of him, stuffing
her handkerchief in her mouth and with her face almost as crimson as his
own.
"If I may be so bowld I should like to know what ye are laughing at,"
said Mike, who could feel no resentment toward the merry young miss.
"We both heard what he said," she replied as soon as she could command
her voice.
"Being I faal like a firecracker that has jest been teched off, I suspict
I caught his loving remarks consarning mesilf."
"Will you tell me something truly--upon your word of honor--take your
dying oath?"
"That I will, ye may depind upon the same."
"Are you a real post office robber?"