The Girl at the Halfway House: A Story of the Plains — John Shaqi
The Girl at the Halfway House: A Story of the PlainsHough, Emerson
General
The Girl at the Halfway House: A Story of the Plains
Hough, Emerson
Great Plains -- Fiction; Historical fiction, American
After breakfast Franklin paused for a moment at the hotel office, almost
as large and empty as the dining room. Different men now and then came
and passed him by, each seeming to have some business of his own. The
clerk at the hotel asked him if he wanted to locate some land. Still
another stranger, a florid and loosely clad young man with a mild blue
eye, approached him and held some converse.
"Mornin', friend," said the young man.
"Good-morning," said Franklin.
"I allow you're just in on the front," said the other.
"Yes," said Franklin, "I came on the last train."
"Stay long?"
"Well, as to that," said Franklin, "I hardly know, but I shall look
around a bit."
"I didn't know but maybe you'd like to go south o' here, to Plum Centre.
I run the stage line down there, about forty-six miles, twict a week.
That's my livery barn over there--second wooden building in the town.
Sam's my name; Sam Poston."
"I never heard of Plum Centre," said Franklin, with some amusement. "Is
it as large a place as this?"
"Oh, no," said Sam hurriedly, "not nigh as large as this, but it's a good
town, all right. Lots on the main street there sold for three hundred
dollars last week. You see, old man Plum has got it figgered out that
his town is right in the middle of the United States, ary way you measure
it. We claim the same thing for Ellisville, and there you are. We've
got the railroad, and they've got my stage line. There can't no one tell
yet which is goin' to get the bulge on the other. If you want to go down
there, come over and I'll fix you up."
Franklin replied that he would be glad to do so in case he had the need,
and was about to turn away. He was interrupted by the other, who stopped
him with an explosive "Say!"
"Yes," said Franklin.
"Did you notice that girl in the dining room, pony-built like, slick,
black-haired, dark eyes--wears glasses? Say, that's the smoothest girl
west of the river. She's waitin', in the hotel here, but say"
(confidentially), "she taught school onct--yes, sir. You know, I'm gone
on that girl the worst way. If you get a chanct to put in a word for me,
you do it, won't you?"
Franklin was somewhat impressed with the swiftness of acquaintanceships
and of general affairs in this new land, but he retained his own
tactfulness and made polite assurances of aid should it become possible.
"I'd be mightily obliged," said his new-found friend. "Seems like I lose
my nerve every time I try to say a word to that girl. Now, I plum forgot
to ast you which way you was goin'. Do you want a team?"
"Thank you," said Franklin, "but I hardly think so. I want to find my
friend Colonel Battersleigh, and I understand he lives not very far away."
"Oh, you mean old Batty. Yes, he lives just out south a little
ways--Section No. 9, southeast quarter. I suppose you could walk."
"I believe I will walk, if you don't mind," said Franklin. "It seems
very pleasant, and I am tired of riding."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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