The Great American Pie CompanyButler, Ellis Parker
General
The Great American Pie Company
Butler, Ellis Parker
Business -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Short stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“All right, Eph,” said Phineas. “We don't want to have no more fights,
an' I want to do what's right, so you can be president. I'll be
treasurer.”
Eph thought for a minute. He knew Phineas well.
“I want to do what's right, too,” he said at last. “You can be
president. I'll be treasurer.”
“I guess mebby we'd better take turns bein' treasurer,” suggested
Phineas.
[Illustration: 38]
“All right,” said Eph; “I want my turn first.”
CHAPTER FOUR
When the two men had settled the treasurer question, they smoked awhile
in silence, each lost in thought; and as they thought their brows
clouded.
“Say, Eph,” said Phineas at length, “what be you thinkin' that makes you
look so glum?” Eph shook his head sadly.
“I been lookin' ahead, Phin,” he said--“'way ahead. An' I see a snag.
I don't hold it ag'in' you, Phin; but the thing won't pan out.”
“What--what you run up ag'in', Eph?” asked Phineas, solicitously.
“Fruit,” said Eph, dolefully. “Loads of it. Phin, what if we _do_ gather
in all the fruit that comes to town? Ain't there just dead loads an'
loads o' fruit in these here United States? An' the minute we git to
puttin' up the price, it'll git noised about, an' Dagos an' Guinnies'll
pile in here with fruit an' cut under us.” He sighed. “'Twas a good
business while it lasted, Phin; but it didn't last long.” Phineas lay
back on the grass and laughed long and squeakily.
“Is _that_ all the farther ahead you looked, Eph Deacon?” he asked when
he had recovered his breath. “Any old fool ought to know that the second
year we was in business we'd buy up all the fruit in the United States.”
Eph's face cleared and he smiled again, but Phineas's face clouded.
“What worried me, Eph,” he said, “was 'bout payin' sich high prices
for fruit as them blame farmers would likely ask. Ner I won't stand it,
neither. Will you?”
“Not by a blame sight, Phin,” said Eph. “I won't let nobody downtrod me.
But,” he asked anxiously, “how you goin' to stop it?”
Phineas dug his heel in the soft turf.
“We got to buy out the farms,” he announced decisively, “an' hire the
farmers to run 'em.”
“Think we can afford it, Phin?” asked Eph. “We don't want to go puttin'
our money into nothin' losing?”
“We got to afford it,” said Phin. “We're in this thing so deep now we
can't go back. An' we'll need part o' the farms, anyhow, fer our wheat.”
“Our wheat?” said Eph, puzzled. “Be we goin' to sell wheat, Phin?”
“Sell wheat?” said Phin, with disgust. “No such fools. Won't we need all
the wheat this country can grow to keep our big flourmills rannin'? When
we own all the flour-mills in the country, it stands to reason we'll
have to own all the wheat, don't it?”
Eph looked at his companion with open mouth.
“Mills!” he ejaculated. “What fer do we want to own all the mills?”
Phineas waved his hand in the air.
“'Tain't 'want to,'” he said decisively, “it's 'have to.' I didn't say
we'd buy all the mills, because I thought you'd surely see fer yourself
that we'd have to buy them.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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