Humorous stories; Washington (State) -- Fiction; Western stories
But they hung off on that. They got too much respect for my judgment. And
they admitted that Safety's way of standing the gaff had been downright
uncanny. So there was nothing to do but pay over their share of this
tainted money and wait for the blow, eight hundred and seventy-five
dollars being the amount I split with 'em for their masterly headwork
in the depredation.
That very day in the mail comes a letter that has been delayed because
this here Government of ours pinches a penny even worse than old Timmins
does. Yes, sir; this letter had been mailed at Seattle with a two-cent
stamp the day after the Government had boosted the price to three cents.
And what does the Government do? Does it say: "Oh, send it along! Why
pinch pennies?" Not at all. It takes a printed card and a printed
envelope and the time of a clerk and an R.F.D. mail carrier to send me
word that I must forward one cent if I want this letter--spends at least
two cents to get one cent. Well, it takes two days for that notice to
reach me; and of course I let it lie round a couple of days, thinking
it's probably an advertisement; and then two days for my one-cent stamp
to go back to this parsimonious postmaster; and two days for the letter
to get here; making about eight days, during which things had happened
that I should of known about. Yes, sir; it's a great Government that will
worry over one cent and then meet one of these smooth profiteers and
loosen up on a million dollars like a cowhand with three months' pay
hitting a wet town. Of course it was all over when I read this letter.
* * * * *
I rolled another cigarette for the injured woman it being no time for
words.
"It just goes to show," she observed after the first relishing draft,
"that we should be honest, even with defectives like old Timmins. This
man in Seattle that keeps track of prices for me writes that the top of
the mule market has blown sky-high; that if I got anything looking at all
like a mule not to let it go off the place for less than two hundred
dollars, because mule buyers is sure desperate. Safety must of got the
same tip, only you can bet his correspondent put the full three cents
on the letter. Safety would never have trusted a strange postmaster with
the excess. Anyway he sold that bunch of rabbits a week later for one
hundred and seventy-five a head, thus adding twenty-two hundred and fifty
dollars of my money to his tainted fortune. You can imagine the pins and
needles he'd been on for a week, scared I'd get the tip and knowing if he
even mentioned them runts at any price whatever that I'd be wise at once.
That joke of the boys must of seemed heaven-sent to him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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