Next morning the authorities sent two more bodies to be consumed. As the functionary, wearing heavily padded gloves, unscrewed the caplike door of his little private inferno and involuntarily shrunk back from the blast of incredible heat which gushed out into his face, he was astounded to hear a querulous, plaintive, Afro-American voice uplifted from the very heart of the furnace, saying: “Who is dat openin’ dat do’ an’ lettin’ all dat cold draft of air in yere on me?” § 122 One Time When the Colonel Balked In his old age, after he quit the war-path, Quanah Parker, the famous chief of the Comanches, adopted many of the white man’s ways; but in one important respect he clung to the custom of his fathers. He continued to be a polygamist. He was a friend and admirer of ex-President Roosevelt. On one occasion, when Colonel Roosevelt was touring Oklahoma he drove out to Parker’s home camp twelve miles from Fort Sill to see the old warrior. With pride Parker pointed out that he lived in a house like a white man, that he was sending his children to the white man’s schools and that he, himself, wore the garb of the white man. Whereupon, Colonel Roosevelt was moved to preach him a sermon on the subject of the moralities. “See here, Chief,” he said, “why don’t you set your people a still better example of obedience to the laws of the land and the customs of the whites? A white man has only one wife; he’s allowed only one at a time. Here you are living with five squaws. Why don’t you give up four of them and remain faithful to the fifth? You could continue to support the four you put aside but they need no longer be members of your household. Then, in all respects, you would be living as the white man lives.” Parker, who spoke excellent English when he chose to do so, considered the proposition for a space in silence. Then, with a twinkle in his beady old eyes he made answer: “You are my great white father,” he said, “and I will do as you wish—on one condition.” “What’s the condition?” asked the Colonel. “You pick out the one I am to live with and then you go tell the other four.” § 123 And No Steam Calliope, Either There is a theatrical manager in New York who began his professional career as press-agent for a circus. A year or two ago he had occasion to believe that a bill-posting crew sent out by him to paper the territory for a big production in which he was interested had failed to live up to its contract. He decided to make a quiet trip over the itinerary and check up on the suspected shirkers. In a city just across the Canadian line in Quebec he hired a livery-stable rig with a driver for the purpose of riding through the adjacent country.