Ryan, Casey (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
But if Smith had any money he did not betray the fact. He asked quite
humbly for the loan of tools, and tube cement, and more blow-out patches,
and set awkwardly to work mending his tattered tires. And once more Casey
sent Juan to borrow the Oasis tub, and watered the goats and picked his
way amongst the Smith offsprings and pretended to be deaf half of the
time, and said he didn't know the other half. His green glass water
pitcher was practically useless to travelers, and Juan was worse. A goat
got away from Humbolt and Greeley and went exploring in the corner of the
garage where Casey lived, and ate three pounds of bacon. You know what
bacon costs. Maw Smith became acquainted with Casey and followed him about
with a detailed recital of her family history, which she thought would
make a real exciting book. What Casey thought I must not tell you.
That night Casey patched tires and tubes. He had to, you see, or go crazy.
Next morning he listened to the departure of the Smith family and the
Smith goats, and prayed that their tires would hold out even as far as
Bagdad,--though I don't see why, since there was no garage in Bagdad, or
anything else but a flag station.
That afternoon at three o'clock, they came back again! And Casey neglected
to send Juan after the tub to water the goats. Wherefore paw sent Humbolt,
and watered the goats himself from Casey's barrel and seemed peevish
because he must. Maw Smith came after coffee again, and helped herself
with no more formality than a shrill, "I'm borrying some more coffee!"
sent to Casey out in front.
That night Casey patched tires and tubes.
At six o'clock Smith pounded on the back door and called in to Casey that
he would have to have some gas before he started. So Casey pulled on his
pants and gave Smith some gas, and paid the garage out of his own pocket.
He didn't swear, either. He was past that.
That afternoon Casey watched apprehensively the road that led west. It was
two-thirty when he saw them coming. Casey set his jaw and went in and hid
every blow-out patch he had in stock, and all the cement.
Smith went into camp, sent Greeley after the Oasis tub and watered the
goats from one of Casey's water barrels. Casey went on with his work,
waiting upon customers who paid, and tried not to think of the Smiths,
although most of them were underfoot or at his elbow.
"Them tires you mended ain't worth a cuss," Smith came around finally to
complain. "I didn't get ten mile out with 'em before I had another
blowout. I tell yuh what I'll do. I'll trade yuh goats fer tires. I got
two milk goats that's worth a hundred dollars apiece, mebby more, the way
goats is selling on the Coast. I hate to part with 'em, but I gotta do
somethin'. Er else you'll have to trust me till I c'n get to my brother
an' git the money. It ain't," he added grievedly, "as if I wasn't honest
enough to pay my debts."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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