Back to the Woods: The Story of a Fall from GraceHobart, George V. (George Vere)
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Back to the Woods: The Story of a Fall from Grace
Hobart, George V. (George Vere)
Humorous stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"I got a clue from this here gent," he said, pointing a bony finger
at Bunch, "and I ups and chases that there maleyfactor for four
miles, well knowin' that the cause of justice would suffer and the
reward of fifty dollars be nil and voidless if the critter got
away. But I got him, by crickey, I got him!"
He looked from one to the other, seeking a sign of applause, and
Bunch said, "Where did you catch him?"
"About four miles yonder," Diggs explained, indefinitely. "It was
a fierce fight while it lasted, but they ain't no maleyfactor
livin' can escape the clutches of these here hands oncet they
entwines him. I pulled the dem cuss out of his clothes!"
With this thrilling announcement he opened the bundle and proudly
displayed the burglar harness which Bunch had worn on that
memorable night.
"And the burglar himself?" Bunch questioned.
Diggs raised his head slowly, and with theatrical effect answered,
"I give the cussed scoun'rel the doggonest drubbin' a mortal
maleyfactor ever got and let him go. That was nearly two weeks
ago, and he ain't showed up since, dag him!"
"You win, Mr. Ananias!" said Bunch, handing Diggs a ten dollar
bill, as he whispered to me, "That story is worth the money."
"What's that for?" inquired Diggs, somewhat taken aback.
"That's my contribution to the reward for the robber," Bunch told
him.
"Well," spluttered Diggs; "it don't seem zactly right, seein' as
how I on'y pulled the cuss out of his clothes and then let him go
with a lambastin'."
"The ten-spot is for the clothes you pulled him out of," Bunch
said, picking up the garments and handing them to me. "Keep them,
John, as a souvenir of your first burglar--and true friend, Bunch!"
I took them reverently, and said, "For your sake, Bunch, they'll be
handed down from generation to generation."
Clara J. blushed and said, "Oh, John!" and I thought Uncle Peter
would chuckle himself into a delirium.
"Good-night, Mr. Ananias!" Bunch called, as Diggs made a farewell
bow and turned to go.
"Good-night, one and all," replied Diggs, then a thought struck him
and he turned with, "Say, who's this here Mr. Annienias? Seems
like the name's familiar, but it ain't mine."
"Mr. Ananias is the first detective mentioned in history," Bunch
explained, and Mr. Diggs beamed over us all.
"Wait a moment, Mr. Officer," Aunt Martha piped in; "have a drop of
refreshment before you go. Tacks, run in and pour Mr. Officer a
drink from that bottle on the sideboard!"
Diggs stood there swallowing his palate in delightful anticipation
until Tacks handed him a brimming glass from which the brave
thief-taker took one eager mouthful, whereupon he emitted a shriek
of terror that could be heard for miles.
"Water! water! quick! I'm a'burnin' up!" cried the astonished
Diggs.
Uncle Peter in his eagerness to quench the flames poured half a
pitcher full of ice water down the back of Diggs' neck.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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