nn 
 
 ^B B*"^^ 
 
 POSTMASTER 
 
 [iili! 
 
 JOSEPH C. LINCOLN
 
 o
 
 or CMXT.
 
 
 Seems to me I never saw her look prettier." 
 
 [Page iQ5.] ,
 
 THE 
 POSTMASTER 
 
 BY JOSEPH C. LINCOLN 
 
 Author of "The Depot Master," "Cap n Warrens Wards," 
 "Cap n Eri," "Mr. Pratt," etc. 
 
 J ! 
 
 WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS 
 BY HOWARD HEATH 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS NEW YORK.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY 
 D. APFLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 Copyright, 1911, 1912, by the Curtis Publishing Company 
 
 Copyright, 1911, 1912, by the Ainslee Magazine Company 
 
 Copyright. 1912. by the Ridgeway Company 
 
 Publish**. April, 1911 
 
 Printed in the United States of America
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 I MAKE TWO BETS AND LOSE ONE OF EM 
 
 SO you re through with the sea for good, are you, 
 Cap n Zeb," says Mr. Pike. 
 " You bet! " says I. " Through for good 
 Is just what I am." 
 
 " Well, I m sorry, for the firm s sake," he says. 
 " It won t seem natural for the Fair Breeze to make 
 port without you in command. Cap n, you re goin 
 to miss the old schooner." 
 
 " Cal late I shall some along at fust," I told 
 him. " But I ll get over it, same as the cat got 
 over missin the canary bird s singin ; and I ll have 
 the cat s consolation that I done what seemed 
 best for me." 
 
 He laughed. He and I were good friends, even 
 though he was ship-owner and I was only skipper, 
 just retired. 
 
 "So you re goin back to Ostable?" he says. 
 What are you goin to do after you get there? " 
 
 " Nothin ; thank you very much," says I, prompt. 
 
 i 
 
 2130929
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 "No work at all?" he says, surprised. "Not a 
 hand s turn? Coin to be a gentleman of leisure, 
 hey?" 
 
 " Nigh as I can, with my trainin . The leisure 
 part ll be all right, anyway." 
 
 He shook his head and laughed again. 
 
 " I think I see you," says he. " Cap n, you ve 
 been too busy all your life even to get married, 
 and" 
 
 " Humph! " I cut in. " Most married men I ve 
 met have been a good deal busier than ever I was. 
 And a good deal more worried when business was 
 dull. No, sir-ee ! twa n t that that kept me from 
 gettin married. I ve been figgerin on the day 
 when I could go home and settle down. If I d 
 had a wife all these years I d have been figgerin 1 
 on bein able to settle up. I ain t goin to Ostable 
 to get married." 
 
 " I ll bet you do, just the same," says he. 
 "And I ll bet you somethin else: I ll bet a new 
 hat, the best one I can buy, that inside of a year 
 you ll be head over heels in some sort of hard 
 work. It may not be seafarin , but it ll be some- 
 thin to keep you busy. You re too good a man 
 to rust in the scrap heap. Come ! I ll bet the hat. 
 What do you say ? " 
 
 Take you," says I, quick. " And if you want 
 to risk another on my marryin , I ll take that, too." 
 
 2
 
 i MAKE TWO BETS 
 
 " Go you," says he. " You ll be married inside 
 of three years or five, anyway." 
 
 " One year that I ll be at work steady work 
 and five that I m married. You re shipped, 
 both ways. And I wear a seven and a quarter, 
 soft hat, black preferred." 
 
 " If I don t win the first bet I will the second, 
 sure," he says, confident. Satan finds some mis 
 chief still for idle hands, 5 you know. Well, good- 
 by, and good luck. Come in and see us whenever 
 you get to New York." 
 
 We shook hands, and I walked out of that of 
 fice, the office that had been my home port ever 
 since I graduated from fust mate to skipper. And 
 on the way to the Fall River boat I vowed my vow 
 over and over again. 
 
 " Zebulon Snow," I says to myself not out 
 loud, you understand; for, accordin to Scriptur or 
 the Old Farmers Almanac or somethin , a feller 
 who talks to himself is either rich or crazy and, 
 though I was well enough fixed to keep the wolf 
 from the door, I wa n t by no means so crazy as to 
 leave the door open and take chances " Zebulon 
 Snow," says I, " you re forty-eight year old and 
 blessedly single. All your life you ve been haulin 
 ropes, or bossin fo mast hands, or tryin to make 
 harbor in a fog. Now that you ve got an anchor 
 to wind ard now that the one talent you put un- 
 
 3
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 der the stock exchange napkin has spread out so 
 that you have to have a tablecloth to tote it home 
 in, don t you be a fool. Don t plant it again, caP- 
 latin to fill a mains l next time, cause you won t 
 do it. Take what you ve got and be thankful 
 and careful. You go ashore at Ostable, where you 
 was born, and settle down and be somebody." 
 
 That s about what I said to myself, and that s 
 what I started to do. I made Ostable on the next 
 mornin s train. The town had changed a whole 
 lot since I left it, mainly on account of so many 
 summer folks buyin and buildin everywhere, espe 
 cially along the water front. The few reg lar in 
 habitants that I knew seemed to be glad to see me, 
 which I took as a sort of compliment, for it don t 
 always foller by a consider ble sight. I got into 
 the depot wagon the same horse was drawin it, 
 I judged, that Eben Hendricks had bought when 
 I was a boy and asked to be carted to the Trav 
 elers Inn. It appeared that there wa n t any 
 Travelers Inn now, that is to say, the name of it 
 had been changed to the Poquit House; " Poquit " 
 bein Injun or Portygee or somethin foreign. 
 
 But the name was the only thing about that hotel 
 that was changed. The grub was the same and the 
 wallpaper on the rooms they showed to me looked 
 about the same age as I was, and wa n t enough 
 handsomer to count, either. I hired a couple of 
 
 4
 
 I MAKE TWO BETS 
 
 them rooms, one to sleep in and smoke in, and 
 t other to entertain the parson in, if he should call, 
 which unless the profession had changed, too 
 I judged he would do pretty quick. I had the 
 rooms cleaned and papered, bought some dyspepsy 
 medicine to offset the meals I was likely to have, 
 and settled down to be what Mr. Pike had called a 
 " gentleman of leisure." 
 
 Fust three months twas fine. At the end of the 
 second three it commenced to get a little mite dull. 
 In about two more I found my mind was shrinkin 
 so that the little mean cat-talks at the breakfast 
 table was beginnin to seem interestin and important. 
 Then I knew twas time to doctor up with some- 
 thin besides dyspepsy pills. Ossification was set- 
 tin in and I d got to do somethin to keep me inter 
 ested, even if I paid for Pike s hats for the next 
 generation. 
 
 You see, there was such a sameness to the pro 
 gramme. Turn out in the mornin , eat and listen 
 to gossip, go out and take a walk, smoke, talk with 
 folks I met more gossip come back and eat 
 again, go over and watch the carpenters on the 
 latest summer cottage, smoke some more, eat some 
 more, and then go down to the Ostable Grocery, 
 Dry Goods, Boots and Shoes and Fancy Goods 
 Store, or to the post-office, and set around with the 
 gang till bedtime. That may be an excitin life for 
 
 5
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 a jellyfish, or a reg lar Ostable loafer but it 
 didn t suit me. 
 
 I was feelin that way, and pretty desperate, the 
 night when Winthrop Adams Beanblossom which 
 wa n t the critter s name but is nigh enough to the 
 real one for him to cruise under in this yarn told 
 me the story of his life and started me on the v yage 
 that come to mean so much to me. I didn t know 
 twas goin to mean much of anything when I 
 started in. But that night Winthrop got me to pad- 
 dlin , so s to speak, and, later on, come Jim Henry 
 Jacobs to coax me into deeper water; and, after 
 that, the combination of them two and Miss Letitia 
 Lee Pendlebury shoved me in all under, so twas a 
 case of stickin to it or swimmin or drownin . 
 
 I was in the Ostable Store that evenin , as us 
 ual. Twas almost nine o clock and the rest of the 
 bunch around the stove had gone home. I was 
 fillin my pipe and cal latin to go, too if you can 
 call a tavern like the Poquit House a home. Bean- 
 blossom was in behind the desk, his funny little griz 
 zly-gray head down over a pile of account books 
 and papers, his specs roostin on the end of his thin 
 nose, and his pen scratchin away like a stray hen in 
 a flower bed. 
 
 " Well, Beanblossom," says I, gettin up and 
 stretchin , " I cal late it s time to shed the partin 
 tear. I ll leave you to figger out whether to spend 
 
 6
 
 I MAKE TWO BETS 
 
 this week s profits in government bonds or trips to 
 Europe and go and lay my weary bones in the tomb, 
 meanin my private vault on the second floor of the 
 Poquit. Adieu, Beanblossom," I says; "remember 
 me at my best, won t you? " 
 
 He didn t seem to sense what I was drivin at. 
 He lifted his head out of the books and papers, 
 heaved a sigh that must have started somewheres 
 down along his keelson, and says, sorrowful but po 
 lite he was always polite " Er yes? You 
 were addressin me, Cap n Snow? " 
 
 " Nothin in particular," I says. " I was just 
 askin if you intended spendin your profits on a trip 
 to Europe this summer." 
 
 Would you believe it, that little store-keepin man 
 looked at me through his specs, his pale face twitch- 
 in and workin like a youngster s when he s tryin 
 not to cry, and then, all to once, he broke right 
 down, leaned his head on his hands and sobbed out 
 loud. 
 
 I looked at him. " For the dear land sakes," 
 I sung out, soon s I could collect sense enough to say 
 anything, "what is the matter? Is anybody dead 
 or" 
 
 He groaned. "Dead?" he interrupted. "I 
 wish to heaven, 7 was dead." 
 
 "Well!" I gasps. "Well!" 
 
 " Oh, why," says he, " was I ever born? " 
 
 7
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 That bein a question that I didn t feel compe 
 tent to answer, I didn t try. My remark about 
 goin to Europe was intended for a joke, but if my 
 jokes made grown-up folks cry I cal lated twas time 
 I turned serious. 
 
 "What is the matter, Beanblossom? " I says. 
 " Are you in trouble ? " 
 
 For a spell he wouldn t answer, just kept on sob- 
 bin and wringin his thin hands, but, after consid- 
 er ble of such, and a good many unsatisfyin re 
 marks, he give in and told me the whole yarn, told 
 me all his troubles. They were complicated and 
 various. 
 
 Picked over and b iled down they amounted to 
 this: He used to have an income and he lived on 
 it in bachelor quarters up to Boston. Nigh as I 
 could gather he never did any real work except to 
 putter in libraries and collect books and such. 
 Then, somehow or other, the bank the heft of his 
 money was in broke up and his health broke down. 
 The doctors said he must go away into the coun 
 try. He couldn t afford to go and do nothin , so he 
 has a wonderful inspiration he ll buy a little store 
 in what he called a " rural community " and go into 
 business. He advertises, " Country Store Wanted 
 Cheap," or words to that effect. Abial Beasley s 
 widow had the " Ostable Grocery, Dry Goods, Boots 
 and Shoes and Fancy Goods Store " on her hands.
 
 I MAKE TWO BETS 
 
 She answers the ad and they make a dicker. Said 
 dicker took about all the cash Beanblossom had left. 
 For a year he had been fightin along tryin to make 
 both ends meet, but now they was so fur apart they 
 was likely to meet on the back stretch. He owed 
 most a thousand dollars, his trade was fallin off, 
 he hadn t a cent and nobody to turn to. What 
 should he do? What should he do? 
 
 That was another question I couldn t answer off 
 hand. It was plain enough why he was in the hole 
 he was, but how to get him out was different. I set 
 down on the edge of the counter, swung my legs 
 and tried to think. 
 
 " Hum," says I, " you don t know much about 
 keepin store, do you, Beanblossom? Didn t know 
 nothin about it when you started in?" 
 
 He shook his head. " I m afraid not, Cap n 
 Snow," he says. " Why should I ? I never was 
 obliged to labor. I was not interested in trade. I 
 never supposed I should be brought to this. I am 
 a man of family, Cap n Snow." 
 
 " Yes," I says, " so m I. Number eight in a fam 
 ily of thirteen. But that never helped me none. 
 My experience is that you can t count much on your 
 relations." 
 
 Would I pardon him, but that was not the sense 
 in which he had used the word " family." He 
 meant that he came of the best blood in New Eng- 
 
 9
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 land. His ancestors had made their marks and 
 
 "Made their marks!" I put in. "Why? 
 Couldn t they write their names?" 
 
 He was dreadful shocked, but he explained. The 
 Beanblossoms and their gang were big-bugs, fine 
 folks. He was terrible proud of his family. Dur 
 ing the latter part of his life in Boston he had be 
 come interested in genealogy. He had begun a 
 " family tree " whatever that was but he never 
 finished it. The smash came and shook him out of 
 the branches; that wa n t what he said, but twas the 
 way I sensed it. And now he had come to this. 
 His money was gone; he couldn t pay his debts; he 
 couldn t have any more credit. He must fail; he 
 was bankrupt. Oh, the disgrace! and likewise oh, 
 the poorhouse! 
 
 " But," says I, considering " it can t be so tur- 
 rible bad. You don t owe but a thousand dollars, 
 this store s the only one in town and Abial used to 
 do pretty well with it. If your debts was paid,, and 
 you had a little cash to stock up with, seems to me 
 you might make a decent v yage yet. Couldn t 
 you?" 
 
 He didn t know. Perhaps he could. But what 
 was the use of talkin that way? For him to pick 
 up a thousand would be about as easy as for a par 
 alyzed man with boxin gloves on to pick up a flea, 
 or words to that effect. No, no, twas no use! he 
 
 10
 
 I MAKE TWO BETS 
 
 must go to the poorhouse ! and so forth and so on. 
 
 " You hold on," I says. " Don t you engage 
 your poorhouse berth yet. You keep mum and say 
 nothin to nobody and let me think this over a 
 spell. I need somethin to keep me interested and 
 
 . . I ll see you to-morrow sometime. Good 
 night." 
 
 I went home thinkin and I thought till pretty 
 nigh one o clock. Then I decided I was a fool even 
 to think for five minutes. Hadn t I sworn to be 
 careful and never take another risk? I was sorry 
 for poor old Winthrop, but I couldn t afford to mix 
 pity and good legal tender; that was the sort of 
 blue and yeller drink that filled the poor-debtors 
 courts. And, besides, wasn t I pridin myself on 
 bein a gentleman of leisure. If I got mixed up in 
 this, no tellin what I might be led into. Hadn t I 
 bragged to Pike about Oh, I was a fool ! 
 
 Which was all right, only, after listenin to the 
 breakfast conversation at the Poquit House, down 
 I goes to the store and afore the forenoon was over 
 I- was Winthrop Adams Beanblossom s silent part 
 ner to the extent of twenty-five hundred dollars. I 
 was busy once more and glad of it, even though 
 Pike was goin to get a hat free. 
 
 This was in January. By early March I was 
 twice as busy and not half as glad. You see I d 
 cal lated that the store was all right, all it needed 
 
 ii
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 was financin . Trade was just asleep, taking a nap, 
 and I could wake it up. I was wrong. Trade was 
 dead, and, barrin the comin of a prophet or some 
 miracle worker to fetch it to life, what that shop 
 was really sufferin for was an undertaker. My 
 twenty-five hundred was funeral expenses, that s all. 
 
 But the prophet came. Yes, sir, he came and 
 fetched his miracle with him. One evenin , after 
 all the reg lar customers, who set around in chairs 
 borrowin our genuine tobacco and payin for it 
 with counterfeit funny stories, had gone after 
 everybody, as we cal lated, had cleared out Bean- 
 blossom and I set down to hold our usual autopsy 
 over the remains of the fortni t s trade. Twas a 
 small corpse and didn t take long to dissect. We d 
 lost twenty-one dollars and sixty-eight cents, and 
 the only comfort in that was that twas seventy-six 
 cents less than the two weeks previous. The 
 weather had been some cooler and less stuff had 
 sp iled on our hands; that accounted for the savin . 
 
 Beanblossom I d got into the habit of callin 
 him " Pullet" cause his general build was so sim 
 ilar to a moultin chicken he vowed he couldn t 
 understand it. 
 
 " I think I shall give up buyin so liberally, Cap n 
 Snow," says he. " If we didn t keep on buyin we 
 shouldn t lose half so much," he says. 
 
 " Yes," says I, " that s logic. And if we give up 
 
 12
 
 I MAKE TWO BETS 
 
 sellin we shouldn t lose the other half. You and 
 me are all right as fur as we go, Pullet, and I guess 
 we ve gone about as fur as we can." 
 
 " Please don t call me * Pullet, " he says, digni 
 fied. " When I think of what I once was, it " 
 
 " S-sh-h ! " I broke in. " It s what I am that trou 
 bles me. I don t dare think of that when the min 
 ister s around he might be a mind-reader. No, 
 Pul Beanblossom, I mean it s no use. I im 
 agined because I could run a three-masted 
 schooner I could navigate this craft. I can t. I 
 know twice as much as you do about keepin store, 
 but the trouble with that example is the answer, 
 which is that you don t know nothin . We might 
 just exactly as well shut up shop now, while there s 
 enough left to square the outstandin debts." 
 
 He turned white and began the hand-wringin 
 exercise. 
 
 "Think of the disgrace!" he says. 
 
 " Think of my twenty-five hundred," says I. 
 
 " Excuse me, gentlemen," says a voice astern of 
 us; " excuse me for buttin in; but I judge that what 
 you need is a butter." 
 
 Pullet and I jumped and turned round. We d 
 supposed we was alone and to say we was surprised 
 is puttin it mild. For a second I couldn t make out 
 what had happened, or where the voice came from, 
 or who twas that had spoke then, as he come 
 
 13
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 across into the lamplight I recognized him. Twas 
 Jim Henry Jacobs, the livin mystery. 
 
 Jim Henry was middlin -sized, sharp-faa d, 
 dressed like a ready-tailored advertisement, and as 
 smooth and slick as an eel in a barrel of sweet ile. 
 Accordin to his entry on the books of the Poquit 
 House he hailed from Chicago. He d been in Os- 
 table for pretty nigh a month and nobody had been 
 able to find out any more about him than just that, 
 which is a some miracle of itself if you know 
 Ostable. He was always ready to talk talkin 
 was one of his main holts but when you got 
 through talkin with him all you had to remember 
 was a smile and a flow of words. He was at the 
 seashore for his health, that he always give you to 
 understand. You could believe it if you wanted 
 to. 
 
 He d got into the habit of spendin his evenin s 
 at Pullet s store, settin around listenin and smilin 
 and agreein with folks. He was the only feller 
 I ever met who could say no and agree with you 
 at the same time. Solon Saunders tried to borrow 
 fifty cents of him once and when the pair of em 
 parted, Saunders was scratchin his head and lookin 
 puzzled. " I can t understand it," says Solon. " I 
 would have swore he d lent it to me. Twas just 
 as if I had the fifty in my hand. I I thanked 
 him for it and all that, but but now he s gone I 
 
 14
 
 I MAKE TWO BETS 
 
 don t seem to be no richer than when I started. I 
 can t understand it." 
 
 Pullet and I had seen him settin abaft the stove 
 early in the evenin , but, somehow or other, we got 
 the notion that he d cleared out with the other 
 loafers. However, he hadn t, and he d heard all 
 we d been sayin . 
 
 He walked across to where we was, pulled a shoe 
 box from under the counter, come to anchor on it 
 and crossed his legs. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he says again, " you need a but 
 ter." 
 
 Poor old Pullet was so set back his brains was 
 sort of scrambled, like a pan of eggs. 
 
 " Er-er, Mr. Jacobs," he says, " I am very 
 sorry, extremely sorry, but we are all out just at 
 this minute. I fully intended to order some to-day, 
 but I I guess I must have forgotten it." 
 
 Jacobs couldn t seem to make any more out of 
 this than I did. 
 
 "Out?" he says, wonderin . "Out? Who s 
 out? What s out? I guess I ve dropped the key 
 or lost the combination. What s the answer? " 
 
 " Why, butter," says Pullet, apologizin . " You 
 asked for butter, didn t you? As I was sayin , I 
 should have ordered some to-day, but " 
 
 Jim Henry waved his hands. " Sh-h," he says, 
 " don t mention it. Forget it. If I d wanted but- 
 
 15
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 ter in this emporium I should have asked for some- 
 thin else. I ve been givin this mart of trade some 
 attention for the past three weeks and I judge that 
 its specialty is bein able to supply what ain t wanted. 
 I hinted that you two needed a butter-in. All 
 right. I m the goat. Now if you ll kindly give 
 me your attention, I ll elucidate." 
 
 We give the attention. After he d " elucidated " 
 for five minutes we d have given him our clothes. 
 You never heard such a mess of language as that 
 Chicago man turned loose. He talked and talked 
 and talked. He knew all about the store and the 
 business, and what he didn t know he guessed and 
 guessed right. He knew about Pullet and his buy- 
 in the place, about my goin in as silent partner 
 though that nobody was supposed to know. He 
 knew the shebang wa n t payin and, also and more 
 over, he knew why. And he had the remedy but 
 toned up in his jacket the name of it was James 
 Henry Jacobs. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he says, " I m a specialist. I m a 
 doctor of sick business. Ever since my medicine 
 man ordered me to quit the giddy metropolis and 
 the Grand Central Department Store, where I was 
 third assistant manager, I ve been driftin about 
 seekin a nice, quiet hamlet and an opportunity. 
 Here s the ham and, if you say the word, here s 
 the opportunity. This shop is in a decline; it s got 
 
 16
 
 : As he come across into the lamplight I recognized him."
 
 I MAKE TWO BETS 
 
 creepin paralysis and locomotive hang-back-tia. 
 There s only one thing that can change the funeral 
 to a silver weddin that s to call in Old Doctor 
 Jacobs. Here he is, with his pocket full of testi 
 monials. Now you listen." 
 
 We d been listenin twas by long odds the 
 easiest thing to do and we kept right on. He 
 had testimonials he showed em to us and they 
 took oath to his bein honest and the eighth business 
 wonder of the world. He went on to elaborate. 
 He had a thousand to invest and he d invest it pro 
 vided we d take him in as manager and give him 
 full swing. He d guarantee etcetery and so on, 
 unlimited and eternal, i 
 
 " But," says I, when he stopped to eat a throat 
 lozenge, " sellin goods is one thing; gettin the 
 right goods to sell is another. Me and Pullet 
 Mr. Beanblossom here have tried to keep a pretty 
 fair-sized stock, but it s the kind of stock that keeps 
 better n it sells." 
 
 " Sell! " he puts in. " You can sell anything, if 
 you know how. See here, let me prove it to you. 
 You think this over to-night and to-morrow fore 
 noon I ll be on hand and demonstrate. Just put on 
 your smoked glasses and watch me. I ll show you." 
 
 He did. Next mornin old Aunt Sarah Oliver 
 came in to buy a hank of black yarn to darn stock- 
 in s with. With diplomacy and patience the aver-
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 age feller could conclude that dicker in an hour and 
 a quarter if he had the yarn. Pullet was just 
 out of black, of course, but that Jim Henry Jacobs 
 stepped alongside and within twenty minutes he sold 
 Aunt Sarah two packages of needles, a brass thim 
 ble and a half dozen pair of blue and yellow striped 
 stockin s that had been on the shelves since Abial 
 Beasley s time, and was so loud that a sane person 
 wouldn t dare wear em except when it thundered. 
 She went out of the store with her bundles in one 
 hand and holdin her head with the other. Then 
 that Jim Henry man turned to Pullet and me. 
 
 "Well?" he says, serene and smilin . 
 
 It was well, all right. At just quarter to twelve 
 that night the arrangements was made. Jacobs was 
 partner in and manager of the " Ostable Grocery, 
 Dry Goods, Boots and Shoes and Fancy Goods 
 Store."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 WHAT A " PULLET " DID TO A PEDIGREE 
 
 IN less than two months that store of ours was 
 a payin proposition. Jim Henry Jacobs was 
 responsible, that is all I can tell you. Don t 
 ask me how he did it. Twas advertising mainly. 
 Advertisin in the papers, advertisin on the fences, 
 things set out in the windows, a new gaudy delivery 
 cart, special bargain days for special stuff they all 
 helped. Of course if we d limited ourselves to 
 Ostable the cargo wouldn t have been so heavy that 
 we d get stoop-shouldered, but that Jim Henry was 
 unlimited. He advertised in the county weekly and 
 sent a special cart to take orders for twenty mile 
 around. The early summer cottages was begin- 
 nin to open and twas summer trade, rich city 
 folks trade, that the Jacobs man said we must have. 
 And we got it, one way or another we got it all. 
 Most of the swell big-bugs had been in the habit 
 of orderin wholesale from Boston, but he soon 
 stopped that. One after another Jim Henry 
 landed em. When I asked him how, he just 
 winked. 
 
 19
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " Skipper," says he he most generally called 
 me " Skipper " same as I called Beanblossom " Pul 
 let " " Skipper," he says, " you can always hook 
 a cod if there s any around and you keepin changin 
 bait; ain t that so? Um-hm; well, I change bait, 
 that s all. Every man, woman and suffragette has 
 got a weak p int somewheres. I just cast around 
 till I find that particular weak p int; then they swal- 
 ler hook, line and sinker." 
 
 "Humph!" I says, "Miss Letitia ain t swal 
 lowed nothin yet, that I ve noticed. Her weak 
 p ints all strong ones? or what is the matter? " 
 
 He made a face. " Sister Pendlebury," says he, 
 " is the frostiest proposition I ever tackled outside 
 of an ice chest. But I ll get her yet. You wait and 
 see. Why, man, we ve got to get her." 
 
 Well, I could find more truth in them statements 
 than I could satisfaction. We d got to get her 
 yes. But she wouldn t be got. She was the rich 
 est old maid on the North Shore; lived in a stone 
 and plaster house bigger n the Ostable County jail, 
 which she d labeled "Pendlebury Villa"; had six 
 servants, three cats and a poll parrot; and was so 
 tipped back with dignity and importance that a 
 plumb-line dropped from her after-hair comb would 
 have missed her heels by three inches. Her winter 
 port was Brookline; summers she condescended to 
 shed glory over Ostable. 
 
 20
 
 A " PULLET " AND A PEDIGREE 
 
 To get the trade of Pendlebury Villa had been 
 Jim Henry s dream from the start. And up to date 
 he was still dreamin . The other big-bugs he had 
 caged, but Letitia was still flyin free and importin 
 her honey from Boston, so to speak. Jacobs had 
 tried everything he could think of, bribin the serv 
 ants, sendin samples of fancy breakfast food and 
 pickles free gratis, writin letters, callin with his 
 Sunday clothes on, everything but twas "Keep 
 Off the Grass " at Pendlebury Villa so far as we 
 was concerned. Twas the biggest chunk of trade 
 under one head on the Cape and it hurt Jim Henry s 
 pride not to get it. However, he kept on tryin . 
 
 One mornin he comes back to the store after a 
 cruise to the Villa and it seemed to me that he 
 looked happier than was usual after one of these 
 trips. 
 
 "Skipper," says he, "I think I wouldn t bet 
 any more n my small change, but I think I ve laid 
 a corner stone." 
 
 "With Miss Pendlebury?" says I, excited. 
 
 " With Letitia," he says, noddin . " I haven t 
 got an order, but I have got a promise. She s 
 agreed to drop in one of these days and look us 
 over." 
 
 Well! " says I, " I should say that was a cor 
 ner stone." 
 
 " We ll hope tis," he says. " Ho, ho! Skipper, 
 
 21
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 I wish you might have been present at the exercises. 
 They were funny." 
 
 Seems he d managed bribery and corruption of 
 the hired help again to see Letitia alone in what 
 she called her " mornin room." He said that, if 
 he d paid any attention to the temperature of that 
 room when he and she first met in it, he d have fig- 
 gered he d struck the morgue; but he warmed it up a 
 little afore he left. Miss Pendlebury just set and 
 glared frosty while he talked and talked and talked. 
 She said about three words to his two hundred 
 thousand, but every one of hers was a " no." She 
 didn t care to patronize the local merchants. The 
 city ones were bad enough she had all the trou 
 ble she wanted with them. She was not interested; 
 and would he please be careful when he went out 
 and not step on the flower beds. 
 
 He was about ready to give it up when he 
 happened to notice an ile portrait in a gorgeous gold 
 frame hangin on the wall. Twas the picture of 
 a man, and Jim Henry said there was a kind of great- 
 I-am look to it, a combination of fatness and im 
 portance and wisdom, same as you see in a stuffed 
 owl, that give him an idea. He started to go, 
 stopped in front of the picture and began to look 
 it over, admirin but reverent, same as a garter 
 snake might look at a boa-constrictor, as proof of 
 what the race was capable of. 
 
 22
 
 A " PULLET " AND A PEDIGREE 
 
 " Excuse me, Miss Pendlebury," he says, " but 
 that is a wonderful portrait. I have had some ex 
 perience in judgin paintin s " he was clerk in the 
 Grand Central Store framed picture department once 
 " and I think I know what I m talkin about." 
 
 Would you believe it, she commenced to unbend 
 right off. 
 
 " It is a Sargent," says she. 
 
 Now / should have asked: "Sergeant of mili 
 tia, or what?" and upset the whole calabash; but 
 Jim Henry knew better. He bows, solemn and wise, 
 and says he d been sure of it right along. 
 
 " But any painter," he says, " would have made 
 a success with a subject like that gentleman before 
 him. There is somethin about him, the height of 
 his brow, and his wonderful eyes, etcetery, which 
 reminds me You ll excuse me, Miss Pendlebury, 
 but isn t that a portrait of one of your near rela 
 tives?" 
 
 She unbent some more and almost smiled. The 
 painted critter was her pa and he was considered 
 a wonderful likeness. 
 
 Well, that was enough for your uncle Jim Henry. 
 He settled down to his job then and the way he 
 poured gush over that painted Pendlebury man was 
 close to sacreligion. But Letitla never pumped up 
 a blush; worship was what she expected for her 
 and her pa. He d been a member of the Gov- 
 
 23
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 ernor s staff and a bank president and a church 
 warden and an alderman and land knows what. 
 His daughter and Jacobs had a real sociable inter 
 view and it ended by her promisin to drop in at the 
 store and look our stock over. Course twa n t 
 likely twould suit her she was very exacting, she 
 said but she d look it over. 
 
 We looked it over fust. We put in the rest of 
 that day changin everything around on the coun 
 ters and shelves, puttin the canned stuff in piles 
 where they d do the most good, and settin adver- 
 tisin signs and such in front of the empty places 
 where they d been afore. Even Pullet worked, 
 though he couldn t understand it, and growled be 
 cause he had to leave the musty old book he was 
 readin and the " genealogical tree " he d begun to 
 cultivate once more. Jacobs was pretty well dis 
 gusted with Pullet. Said he was an incumbrance 
 on the concern and hadn t any business instinct. 
 
 All the next day and the next we hung around, 
 dressed up to kill that is, Jim Henry s togs would 
 have killed anything with weak eyes waitin for 
 Letitia Pendlebury to come aboard and inspect. 
 But she didn t come that day, or the next either. 
 Jacobs was disapp inted, but he wouldn t give in 
 that he was discouraged. The fourth forenoon, 
 when there was still nothin doin , he and I went 
 on a cruise with a hired horse and buggy over to 
 
 24
 
 A " PULLET " AND A PEDIGREE 
 
 Bayport, where we had some business. We left 
 Pullet in charge of the store and when we came back 
 he was lookin pretty joyful. 
 
 Who do you think has been here?" he says, 
 in his thin, polite little voice. " Miss Letitia Pen- 
 dlebury called this afternoon." 
 
 " She did! " shouts Jacobs. 
 
 " Did she buy anythin ? " I wanted to know. 
 
 No, it appeared that she hadn t bought anythin . 
 Fact is, Pullet had forgot he was supposed to be 
 a storekeeper. When Letitia came in he was 
 roostin in his family tree, had the chart spread out 
 on the counter and was fillin in some of the twigs 
 with the names of dead and gone Beanblossoms. 
 He couldn t climb down to common things like 
 crackers and salt pork. 
 
 " But she was very much interested," he says, his 
 specs shinin with joy. " When she found out what 
 I was busy with she was very much interested, really. 
 She is a lady of family, too." 
 
 "She is?" I sings out. "What are you talkin 
 about? She s an old maid and an only child besides, 
 and" 
 
 " Hush up, Skipper," orders Jacobs. " Go on, 
 Pullet Mr. Beanblossom, I mean go on." 
 
 So on went Pullet, both wings flappin . Letitia 
 and he had talked " family " to beat the cars. She 
 had most everything in the Villa except a family 
 
 25
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 tree. She must have one right away. She simply 
 must. 
 
 " And I am to help her in preparin it," says Pul 
 let, puffed up and vainglorious. " The Pendlebury 
 family tree will be an honor to prepare. Of course 
 it will require much labor and research, but I shall 
 enjoy doing it. I told her so. Her father would 
 have prepared one himself, had often spoken of it, 
 but he was a very busy man of affairs and lacked the 
 time." 
 
 My, but I was mad! I cal late if I had a marlin- 
 spike handy our coop would have been a Pullet 
 short. But Jim Henry Jacobs was so full of tickle 
 he couldn t keep still. He fairly dragged me into 
 the back room. 
 
 "Skipper," he says, "here it is at last! We ve 
 got it!" 
 
 " Yes," I sputters, thinkin he was referrin to 
 Beanblossom, "we ve got it; and, if you ask me, 
 I d tell you we d ought to chloroform it afore it 
 does any more harm." 
 
 " No, no," he says, " you don t understand. 
 We ve got the old girl s weak p int at last. It s 
 genealogy. Pullet shall grow her a family tree if 
 I have to buy a carload of fertilizer to-morrer. 
 Think of it ! think of it ! Why, she won t give him 
 a minute s rest from now on. She ll be after him 
 the whole time." 
 
 26
 
 A " PULLET " AND A PEDIGREE 
 
 " But I can t see where the trade comes in," 
 says I. 
 
 " You can t! With our senior pardner head for 
 ester? My boy, if any other shop sells Pendlebury 
 Villa a dollar s worth after this, I ll Fletcherize my 
 hat, that s all!" 
 
 He knew what he was talkin about, as usual. 
 The very next forenoon Letitia was in to consult 
 with Pullet about huntin up her family records. 
 Afore she left Jacobs took orders for thirty-two dol 
 lars worth and I d have bet she didn t know a thing 
 she bought. After dinner, Jim Henry sent Pullet 
 up to see her. He stayed until supper time. Next 
 day he had supper at the Villa. A week later he 
 made his first trip to Boston, to the Genealogical 
 Society, to hunt for records. And Jacobs stayed 
 in Ostable and kept the Villa supplied with the lux 
 uries of life. If the Pendlebury servants didn t die 
 of gout and overeatin , it wasn t our fault. 
 
 By August the whole town was talkin . They 
 had it all settled. Cordin to the gossip-spreaders 
 there could be only one reason for Pullet and Miss 
 Letitia bein together so much they was cal latin 
 to marry. The weddin day was prophesied and set 
 anywheres from to-morrer to next Christmas. I 
 thought such talk ought to be stopped. Jim Henry 
 didn t. 
 
 "Why?" says he. 
 
 27
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 "Whyl" I says. "Because it s foolishness, 
 that s why. Cause there s no truth in it and you 
 know it." 
 
 " No, I don t know," says he. " Stranger things 
 than that have happened." 
 
 " She marry that old fossilized pauper ! " 
 
 "Why not? He s a gentleman and a scholar, if 
 he is poor. She s rich, but if there s one thing she 
 isn t, it s a scholar." 
 
 "Humph! fur s that goes," says I, "she ain t a 
 gentleman, either though she s next door to 
 it." 
 
 " That s all right. Skipper, there s some things 
 money can t buy. Pullet s got book learnln and 
 treed ancestors and she ain t. She s got money 
 and he ain t. Both want what t other s best fixed 
 in. If old Beanblossom had any sand, I should be 
 lieve twas a sure thing. I guess I ll drop htm a 
 hint." 
 
 " My land! " I sang out; " don t you do it. The 
 fat ll all be in the fire then." 
 
 " Skipper," says he, " you re a cagey old bird, 
 but you don t know it all. There s some things you 
 can leave to me. And, anyhow, whether the wed- 
 din bells chime or not, all this talk is good free 
 advertisin for the store." 
 
 Twa n t long after this that the genealogical man 
 begun to seem less gay-like. He and Letitia was 
 
 28
 
 A " PULLET " AND A PEDIGREE 
 
 together as much as ever, the Pendlebury tree and 
 the Beanblossom tree he worked on both at the 
 same time was flourishing after the topsy-turvy 
 way of such vegetables from the upper branches 
 down towards the trunks; but there was a look on 
 Pullet s face as he pawed through his books and 
 papers that I couldn t understand. He looked wor 
 ried and troubled about somethin . 
 
 ; What s the matter?" I asked him, once. 
 " Ain t your ancestors turnin up satisfactory? " 
 
 Yes," he says, polite as ever, but sort of con- 
 descendin and proud, " the Beanblossom history 
 is, if you will permit me to say so, a very satisfactory 
 record indeed." 
 
 "And the Pendleburys ? " says I. "George 
 Washin ton was first cousin on their ma s side, I 
 s pose." 
 
 He didn t answer for a minute. Then he wiped 
 his specs with his handkerchief. " The Pendlebury 
 records are," he says, slow, " a trifle more confused 
 and difficult. But I am progressin yes, Cap n 
 Snow, I think I may say that I am progressin ." 
 
 The thunderbolt hit us, out of a clear sky, the 
 fust week in September. Yet I s pose we d ought 
 to have seen it comin at least a day ahead. That 
 day the Pendlebury gasoline carryall come buzzin 
 up to the front platform and Letitia steps out, grand 
 as the Queen of Sheba, of course. 
 
 29
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " Cap n Snow," says she, and it seemed to me 
 that she hesitated just a minute, " is Mr. Beanblos- 
 som about?" 
 
 " No," says I, " he ain t. I don t know where 
 he is exactly. He was in the store this mornin 
 askin about a letter he s expectin from the Gene 
 alogical Society folks, but he went out right after 
 wards and I ain t seen him since. I s posed, of 
 course, he was up to your house." 
 
 " No," she says, and I thought she colored up a 
 little mite; " he has not been there since day before 
 yesterday. Perhaps that is natural, under the cir 
 cumstances," speakin more to herself than to me, 
 " but . . . however, will you kindly tell him 
 I called before leavin for the city. I am goin to 
 Boston on a shoppin excursion," she adds, conde- 
 scendin . " I shall return on Wednesday." 
 
 She went away. Pullet didn t show up until night 
 and then the first thing he asked for was the mail. 
 When I told him about the Pendlebury woman he 
 turned round and went out again. 
 
 Next day was Saturday and we was pretty busy, 
 that is, Jim Henry and the clerk was busy. I was 
 about as much use as usual, and, as for Pullet, he 
 was no use at all. A big green envelope from the 
 Genealogical Society come for him in the morning 
 mail he was always gettin letters from that Soci 
 ety and he grabbed at it and went out on the plat- 
 
 30
 
 A " PULLET " AND A PEDIGREE 
 
 form. A little while afterwards I saw him roostin 
 on a box out there, with his hair, what there was 
 of it, all rumpled up, and an expression of such 
 everlastin , world-without-end misery on his face 
 that I stopped stock still and looked at him. 
 
 " For the mercy sakes," says I, " what s hap 
 pened? " 
 
 He turned his head, stared at me fishy-eyed, and 
 got up off the box. 
 
 " What s wrong? " I asked. " Is the world corn- 
 in to an end? " 
 
 He put one hand to his head and waved the other 
 up and down like a pump handle. 
 
 " Yes," he sings out, frantic like. " It is ended 
 already. It is all over. I I " 
 
 And with that he jumps off the platform and 
 goes staggerin up the road. I d have follered him, 
 but just then Jim Henry calls to me from inside the 
 store and in a little while I d forgot Beanblossom 
 altogether. I thought of him once or twice durin 
 the day, but twa n t till about shuttin -up time that 
 I thought enough to mention him to Jacobs. Then 
 he mentioned him fust. 
 
 " Whew ! " says he, settin down for the fust time 
 in two hours. "Whew! I m tired. This has been 
 the best day this concern has had since I took hold 
 of it, and I ve worked like a perpetual motion 
 machine. We ll need another boy pretty soon, Skip-
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 per. Pullet s no good as a salesman. By the 
 way, where is Pullet? I ain t seen him since 
 noon." 
 
 Neither had I, now that I come to think of it. 
 
 " I wonder if the poor critter s sick," I says. Then 
 I started to tell how queer he d acted out on the plat 
 form. I d just begun when Amos Hallett s boy 
 come into the store with a note. 
 
 11 It s for you, Cap n Zeb," he says, all out of 
 breath. " I meant to give it to you afore, but I 
 just this minute remembered it. Mr. Beanblossom, 
 he give it to me at the depot when he took the 
 up train." 
 
 "Took the up train?" says I. "Who did? 
 Not Pul Mr. Beanblossom?" 
 
 " Yes," says the boy. " He s gone to Boston, 
 leastways the depot-master said he bought a ticket 
 for there. Why ? Didn t you know it ? He 
 
 I was too astonished to speak at all, but Jim 
 Henry was cool as usual. 
 
 " Yes, yes, son," he says. " It s all right. You 
 trot right along home afore you catch cold in your 
 freckles." Then, after the youngster d gone, he 
 turns to me quick. " Open it, Skipper," he orders. 
 " Somethin s happened. Open it." 
 
 I opened the envelope. Inside was a sheet of 
 foolscap covered from top to bottom with mighty 
 shaky handwritin . I read it out loud. 
 
 32
 
 A " PULLET " AND A PEDIGREE 
 
 " Captain Zebulon Snow, 
 " DEAR SIR: 
 
 " Polite as ever, ain t he? " I says. " He d been 
 genteel if he was writin his will." 
 
 " Go on! " snaps Jacobs. " Hurry up." 
 
 " DEAR SIR: When you receive this I shall have 
 left Ostable, it may be forever. I have made a 
 horrible discovery, which has wrecked all my hopes 
 and my life. In accordance with Mr. Jacob s kindly 
 counsel, I recently summoned courage to ask Miss 
 Pendlebury to become my wife. 
 
 "Good heavens to Betsy!" I sang out, almost 
 droppin the letter. 
 
 " Go on!" shouts Jacobs. "Don t stop now." 
 
 "But he asked her to marry him!" I gasps. 
 " In accordance with your advice yours! Did 
 you have the cheek to " 
 
 "Will you go on? Of course I advised him. 
 We d got the Pendlebury trade, hadn t we? Can 
 you think of any surer way to cinch it than to have 
 those two idiots marry each other? Go on or 
 give me the letter." 
 
 I went on, as well as I could, everything consid 
 ered. 
 
 " She did not refuse. She was kinder than I had 
 a right to expect. I realized my presumption, 
 but " 
 
 33
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " Skip that," orders Jim Henry. " Get down to 
 brass tacks." 
 
 I skipped some. 
 
 " She told me she must have a few days time to 
 consider. I waited. To-day I received a communi 
 cation from the Genealogical Society which has 
 dashed my hopes to the ground. It was in connec 
 tion with my work on the Pendlebury family tree. 
 For some time I have been very much troubled con 
 cerning developments in that work. The later Pen- 
 dleburys have been ladies and gentlemen of repute 
 and worth, but as I delved deeper into the past and 
 
 approached the early generations in this country, 
 j " 
 
 " Skip again," says Jacobs. 
 I skipped. 
 
 " And now, to my horror, I find the fact proven 
 beyond doubt. Ezekiel Jonas Pendlebury whose 
 name should be inscribed upon the trunk of the tree, 
 he being the original settler in America was 
 hanged in the Massachusetts Bay Colony for steal 
 ing a hog upon the Sabbath Day." 
 
 Then I did drop the letter. " My land of love ! " 
 was all I could say. And what Jacobs said was 
 just as emphatic. We stared at each other; and 
 then, all at once, he began to laugh, laugh till I 
 thought he d never stop. His laughin made me 
 mad until I commenced to see the funny side of the 
 
 34
 
 A " PULLET " AND A PEDIGREE 
 
 thing; then I laughed, too, and the pair of us rocked 
 back and forth and haw-hawed like loons. 
 
 " Oh, dear me I " says Jim Henry, wipin his 
 eyes. " The original Pendlebury hung for hog 
 stealin ! " 
 
 " Stealin it on Sunday," says I. " Don t forget 
 that. Sabbath-breakin was worse than thievin in 
 them days." 
 
 " Well, go on, go on," says he. " There s more 
 of it, ain t they?" 
 
 There was. The writing got finer and finer as 
 it got close to the bottom of the page. Poor Pullet 
 had caved in when that revelation struck him. 
 Honor compelled him to tell Letitia the truth and 
 how could he tell her such a truth as that? She, 
 so proud and all. He had led her into this dreadful 
 research work and she would blame him, of course, 
 and dismiss him with scorn and contempt. Her 
 contempt he could not bear. No, he must go away. 
 He could never face her again. He was goin to 
 Boston, to his cousin s house in Newton, and stay 
 there for a spell. Perhaps some day, after she had 
 shut up her summer villa and gone, too, he might 
 return; he didn t know. But would we forgive 
 him, etcetery and so forth, and good-by. 
 
 His name was squeezed in the very corner. I 
 looked at Jacobs. 
 
 " Well," I says, some disgusted, " it looks to me, 
 35
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 as a man up a tree not a family tree, neither, 
 thank the Lord as if instead of cinchin the Pen- 
 dlebury trade your advice had queered it for 
 ever." 
 
 He didn t say nothin . Just scowled and kicked 
 his heels together. Then he grabbed the letter out 
 of my hand and begun to read it again. I scowled, 
 too, and set starin at the floor and thinkin . All 
 at once I heard him swear, a sort of joyful swear 
 word, seemed to me. I looked up. As I did he 
 swung off the counter, crumpled up the letter, 
 jammed it in his pocket and grabbed up his hat. 
 
 " Skipper," he says, his eyes shinin , " there s a 
 night freight to Boston, ain t there? " 
 
 " Yes, there is, but " 
 
 " So long, then. I ll be back soon s I can. You 
 and Bill " that was the clerk " must do as well 
 as you can for a day or so. So long. But you just 
 remember this: Old Doctor James Henry Jacobs, 
 specialist in sick businesses, ain t given up hopes of 
 this patient yet, not by any manner of means. By, 
 by." 
 
 He was gone afore I could say another word, 
 and for the rest of that night and all day Sunday 
 and until Monday evenin s train come in, I was like 
 a feller walkin in his sleep. All creation looked 
 crazy and I was the only sane critter in it. 
 
 On Monday evenin he came sailin into the store, 
 36
 
 A " PULLET " AND A PEDIGREE 
 
 all smiles. Twas some time afore I could get him 
 alone, but, when I could, I nailed him. 
 
 " Now," says I, " perhaps you ll tell me why you 
 run off and left me, and where you ve been, and 
 what you mean by it, and a few other things." 
 
 He grinned. "Been?" he says. "Well, I ve 
 been to see the last of Miss Letitia Pendlebury of 
 Pendlebury Villa, Ostable, Mass. Miss Pendle 
 bury is no more." 
 
 "No more!" I hollered. "No more! Don t 
 tell me she s dead! " 
 
 " I sha n t," says he, " because she isn t. She s 
 alive, all right, but she s no more Miss Pendle 
 bury. She s Mrs. Winthrop Adams Beanblossom 
 now," he says. " They were married this fore 
 noon." 
 
 "Married?" 
 
 " Married." 
 
 " But but after the hangin news and the 
 hog-stealin and Does she know it? She 
 wouldn t marry him after that?" 
 
 " She knows and she was tickled to death to 
 marry him. Skipper, there was a P. S. on the back 
 of that letter of Pullet s. You didn t turn the page 
 over; I did and I recognized the life-saver right off. 
 Here it is." 
 
 He passed me Beanblossom s letter, back side up. 
 There was a P. S., but it looked to me more like 
 
 37
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 the finishin knock on the head than it did like a 
 life-saver. This was it: 
 
 " P. S. I have neglected to state another fact 
 which my researches have brought to light and 
 which makes the affair even more hopeless. My 
 own ancestor, at that time Governor of the Colony, 
 was the person who sentenced Ezekiel Pendlebury 
 and caused him to be hanged." 
 
 " And that," says I, " is what you call a life- 
 saver! My nine-times great-granddad has your 
 nine-times great-granddad hung and that removes 
 all my objections to marryin you. Oh, sure and sar- 
 tin! Yes, indeed! " 
 
 He smiled superior. " Listen, you doubtin 
 Thomas," says he. " You can t see it, but Sister 
 Letitia saw it right off when I put Pullet s case 
 afore her at the Hotel Somerset, where she was 
 stoppin . Her ancestor was a hog-stealer and a 
 hobo; but Beanblossom s ancestor was a Governor 
 and a nabob from way back. If by just sayin yes 
 you could swap a pig-thief for a governor, you d 
 do it, wouldn t you? You would if you d been 
 braggin family as Letitia has for the past three 
 months. I saw her, turned on some of my con- 
 vincin conversation, saw Pullet at his cousin s and 
 convinced him. They were married at Trinity 
 parsonage this very forenoon." 
 
 38
 
 A " PULLET " AND A PEDIGREE 
 
 "My! my! my!" I says, after this had really 
 sunk in. " And the Pendlebury tree is " 
 
 " There ain t any Pendlebury tree," he inter 
 rupts. " It s the kindlin -bin for that shrub. But 
 the Beanblossom tree, with governors and judges 
 and generals proppin up every main limb, is goin 
 to hang right next to Pa Pendlebury s picture in the 
 mornin room of Pendlebury Villa. And the head 
 of Pendlebury Villa is the senior partner in the 
 Ostable Grocery, Dry Goods, Boots and Shoes and 
 Fancy Goods Store." 
 
 He was wrong there. Letitia Pendlebury Bean- 
 blossom had another surprise under her bonnet and 
 she sprung it when she got back. She sent for 
 Jacobs and me and made proclamation that her hus 
 band would withdraw from the firm. 
 
 " I trust that Mr. Beanblossom and I are dem 
 ocratic," she says. " Of course we shall continue 
 to purchase our supplies from you gentlemen. But, 
 really," she says, " you must see that a man whose 
 ancestor by direct descent was Governor of Massa 
 chusetts Bay Colony could scarcely humiliate himself 
 by engaging in trade." 
 
 So, instead of gettin out of storekeepin , I was 
 left deeper in it than ever. But Jim Henry cheered 
 me up by sayin I hadn t really been in it at all yet. 
 
 " This foundlin is only beginnin to set up and 
 take notice," he says. " Skipper, you put your faith 
 
 39
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 in old Doctor Jacobs Teethin Syrup and Tonic for 
 Business Infants." 
 
 " I guess that s where it s put," says I, drawin a 
 long breath. 
 
 " It couldn t be in a better place, could it? No, 
 we ve got a good start, but that s all it is. Before 
 I get through you ll see. We ve got to make this 
 store prominent and keep it prominent, and the best 
 way to do that is to be prominent ourselves. Skip 
 per, I wish you d go into politics." 
 
 " Politics ! " says I, soon as I could catch my 
 breath. " Well, when I do, I give you leave to 
 order my room at the Taunton Asylum. What do 
 you cal late I d better try to get elected to Presi 
 dent or pound-keeper?" 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Both of them jobs are filled at the present time," 
 I went on, sarcastic. " So is every other I can think 
 of off-hand." 
 
 That s all right," says he. " Some of these 
 days you ll hold office right in this town. We need 
 political prestige in our business and you, Cap n Snow, 
 bein the solid citizen of this close corporation, will 
 have to sacrifice yourself on the altar of public duty." 
 
 " Nary sacrifice," says I. Which shows how little 
 the average man knows what s in store for him. 
 
 40
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 I GET INTO POLITICS 
 
 WHEN I shook hands with Mary Blaisdell 
 and left her standin under the wistaria 
 vine at the front door of the little old 
 house that had belonged to Henry, all I said was 
 for her to keep a stiff upper lip and not to be any 
 bluer than was necessary. " Ostable s lost a good 
 postmaster," says I, " and you ve lost a kind, 
 thoughtful, providin brother. I know it looks 
 pretty foggy ahead to you just now and you can t 
 see how you re goin to get along; but you keep up 
 your pluck and a way ll be provided. Meantime 
 I m goin to think hard and perhaps I can see a light 
 somewheres. My owners used to tell me I was con- 
 sider ble of a navigator, so between us we d ought 
 to fetch you into port." 
 
 Her eyes were wet, but she smiled, rainbow 
 fashion, through the shower, and said I was awful 
 good and she d never forget how kind I d been 
 through it all. 
 
 " Whatever becomes of me, Cap n Snow," she 
 says, u I shall never forget that."
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 What I d done wa n t worth talkin about, so I 
 said good-by and hurried away. At the top of the 
 hill I turned and looked back. She was still standin 
 in the door and, in spite of the wistaria and the 
 hollyhocks and the green summer stuff everywheres, 
 the whole picture was pretty forlorn. The little 
 white buildin by the road, with the sign, " Post- 
 office " over the window, looked more lonesome still. 
 And yet the sight of it and the sight of that sign 
 give me an inspiration. I stood stock still and 
 thumped my fists together. 
 
 "Why not?" says I to myself. "By mighty, 
 yes! Why not? " 
 
 You see, Henry Blaisdell was one of the few 
 Ostable folks that I d known as a boy and who was 
 livin there yet when I came back. He was younger 
 than I, and Mary, his sister, was younger still. I 
 liked Henry and his death was a sort of personal 
 loss to me, as you might say. I liked Mary, too. 
 She was always so quiet and common-sense and com 
 fortable. She didn t gossip, and the way she helped 
 her brother in the post-office was a treat to see. 
 She wa n t exactly what you d call young, and the 
 world hadn t been all fair winds and smooth water 
 for her, by a whole lot; but, in spite of it, she d 
 managed to keep sweet and fresh. She and Henry 
 and I had got to be good friends and I gen rally 
 took a walk up towards their house of a Sunday or 
 
 42
 
 I GET INTO POLITICS 
 
 managed to run in at the post-office buildin at least 
 once every week-day and have a chat with em. 
 
 When I heard of Henry s dyin so sudden my 
 fust thought was about Mary and what would she 
 do. How was she goin to get along? I thought 
 of that even durin the funeral, and now, the day 
 after it, when I went up to see her, I was thinkin 
 of it still. And, at last, I believed I had got the 
 answer to the puzzle. 
 
 Half the way back to the " Ostable Grocery, Dry 
 Goods, Boots and Shoes and Fancy Goods Store," 
 I was thinkin of my new notion and makin up my 
 mind. The other half I was layin plans to put it 
 through. When I walked into the store, Jim Henry 
 met me. 
 
 " Hello, Skipper," says he, brisk and fresh as a 
 no theast breeze in dog days, " did you ever hear 
 the story about the office-seekin feller in Wash- 
 in ton, back in President Harrison s time? He 
 wanted a gov ment job and he happened to notice 
 a crowd down by the Potomac and asked what was 
 up. They told him one of the Treasury clerks had 
 been found drowned. He run full speed to the 
 White House, saw the President, and asked for the 
 drowned chap s place. You re too late, says Har 
 rison, I ve just app inted the man that saw him 
 fall in. " 
 
 I d heard it afore, but I laughed, out of polite- 
 43
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 ness, and wanted to know what made him think of 
 the yarn. 
 
 Why," says he, " because that s the way it s 
 workin here in Ostable. Poor old BlaisdelFs 
 funeral was only yesterday and it s already settled 
 who s to be the new postmaster." 
 
 Considerin what I d been goin over in my mind 
 all the way home from Mary s, this statement, just 
 at this time, knocked me pretty nigh out of water. 
 
 " What ? " I gasped. " How did you know ? " 
 
 " Why wouldn t I know? " says he. " I got the 
 advance information right from the oracle. I was 
 told not ten minutes since that the app intment was 
 to go to Abubus Payne." 
 
 I stared at him. "Abubus Payne!" says I. 
 "Abubus Are you dreamin ?" 
 
 He laughed. " I d never dream a name like 
 Abubus, he says, * even after one of our Poquit 
 House dinners. No, it s no dream. The Major 
 was just in and he says his mind is made up. That 
 settles it, don t it? You wouldn t contradict the all- 
 wise mouthpiece of Providence, would you, Cap n 
 Zeb?" 
 
 I never said anything not then. I was realizin 
 that, if I wanted Mary Blaisdell to be postmistress 
 at Ostable which was the inspiration I was took 
 with when I looked back at her from the hill 
 I d got to do somethin besides say. I d got to work 
 
 44
 
 I GET INTO POLITICS 
 
 and work hard. And even at that my work was 
 cut out from the small end of the goods. To beat 
 Major Cobden Clark in a political fight was no boy s 
 job. But Abubus Payne 1 Abubus Payne post 
 master at Ostable ! ! Think of it ! Maybe you can; 
 / couldn t without stimulants. 
 
 You see, this critter Abubus did you ever hear 
 such a name in your life? had lived around most 
 every town on the Cape at one time or another. 
 He and his wife wa n t what you d call permanent 
 settlers anywhere, but had a habit of breakin out 
 in new and unexpected places, like a p ison-ivy rash. 
 He worked some at carpenterin , when he couldn t 
 help it, but his main business, as you might say, had 
 always been lookin for an easier job. In Ostable 
 he d got one. He was caretaker and general nurse 
 of Major Cobden Clark. His wife, who was about 
 as shiftless as he was, was the Major s housekeeper. 
 
 And the Major? Well, the Major was a star, a 
 planet yes, in his own opinion, the whole solar 
 system. He was big and fleshy and straight and 
 gray-haired and red-faced. He belonged to land 
 knows how many clubs and societies and milishys, 
 includin the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Com 
 pany of Boston and the Old Guard of New York. 
 He had political influence and a long pocketbook 
 and a short temper. Likewise he suffered from pig- 
 headedness and chronic indigestion. Twas the in- 
 
 45
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 digestion that brought him to Ostable and Abubus; 
 or rather twas his doctor, Dr. Conquest Payne, the 
 celebrated food and diet specializer see advertise 
 ments in most any newspaper who sent him there. 
 Abubus was Doctor Conquest s cousin and I judge 
 the two of em figgered the Clark stomach and 
 income as things too good to be treated outside of 
 the family. 
 
 Anyway, the spring afore I landed in Ostable, 
 down comes the Major, buys a good-sized house on 
 the lower road nigh the water front, hires Abubus 
 and his wife to look out for the place and him, and 
 settles down to the simple life, which wa n t the 
 kind he d been livin , by a consider ble sight. But 
 he lived it now; yes, sir, he did! He lived by the 
 clock and he ate and slept by the clock, and that 
 clock was wound up and set accordin to the rules 
 prescribed by Dr. Conquest Payne, " World Famous 
 Dietitian and Food Specialist " see more adver 
 tising with a tintype of the Doctor in the corner. 
 
 Nigh as I could find out the diet was a queer one. 
 It give me dyspepsy just to think of it. Breakfast 
 at seven sharp, consistin of a dozen nut meats, two 
 raw prunes, some "whole wheat bread" what 
 ever that is and a pint of hot water. Luncheon 
 at quarter to eleven, with another assortment of 
 similar truck. Afternoon snack at three and din 
 ner at half-past seven. He had two soft b iled eggs 
 
 46
 
 I GET INTO POLITICS 
 
 for dinner, or else a two-inch slice of rare steak,, 
 and, with them exceptions, the whole bill of fare 
 was, accordin to my notion, more fittin for a goat 
 than a human bein . He mustn t smoke and he 
 mustn t drink: Considerin what he d been used 
 to afore the " World Famous " one hooked him it 
 ain t much wonder that he was as crabbed and 
 cranky as a liveoak windlass. 
 
 However, it or somethin else had made 
 him feel better since he landed in Ostable and he 
 swore by that Conquest Payne man and everybody 
 connected with him. And if he once took a notion 
 into his tough old head, nothin short of a surgeon s 
 operation could get it out. He d decided to make 
 Abubus postmaster and he d move heaven and earth 
 to do it. All right, then, it was up to me to do some 
 movin likewise. I can be a little mite pig-headed 
 myself, if I set out to be. 
 
 And I set out right then. It may seem funny to 
 say so, but I was about as good a friend as the 
 Major had in Ostable. Course he had a tremen 
 dous influence with the selectmen and the like of 
 that, owin to his soldier record and his pompous- 
 ness and the amount of taxes he paid. And he and 
 I never agreed on one single p int. But just the 
 same he spent the heft of his evenin s at the store 
 and I was always glad to see him. I respected the 
 cantankerous old critter, and liked him, in a way.. 
 
 47
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 And I m inclined to think he respected and liked 
 me. I cal late both of us enjoyed fightin with 
 somebody that never tried for an under-holt or quit 
 even when he was licked. 
 
 So that night, when he comes puffin in and sets 
 down, as usual, in the most comfortable chair, I 
 went over and come to anchor alongside of him. 
 
 " Hello," he grunts, " you old salt hayseed. Any 
 closer to bankruptcy than you was yesterday? " 
 
 Your bill s a little bigger and more overdue, 
 that s all," says I. " See here, I want to talk poli 
 tics with you. Mary Blaisdell, Henry s sister, is 
 goin to have the post-office now he s gone, and I 
 want you to put your name on her petition. Not 
 that she needs it, or anybody else s, but just to help 
 fill up the paper." 
 
 Well, sir, you ought to have seen him ! His red 
 face fairly puffed out, like a young-one s rubber bal 
 loon. He whirled round on the edge of his chair 
 he was too big to move in any other part of it 
 and glared at me. What did I mean by that? 
 Hey? Was my punkin head sp ilin now that warm 
 weather had come, or what? Had I heard what 
 he told my partner that very mornin ? 
 
 " Yes," says I, " I heard it. But I judged you 
 must have broke your rule about drinkin liquor, 
 or else your dyspepsy has struck to your brains. 
 No sane person would set out to make Abubus 
 
 48
 
 I GET INTO POLITICS 
 
 Payne anythin more responsible than keeper of a 
 pig pen. You didn t mean it, of course." 
 
 He didn t! He d show me what he meant! 
 Abubus was the most honest, able man on the whole 
 blessed sand-heap, and he was goin to be postmas 
 ter. Mary Blaisdell was an old maid, good enough 
 of her kind, maybe, but the place for her was some 
 kind of an asylum or home for incompetent females. 
 He d sign a petition to put her in one of them places, 
 but nothin else. Abubus was just as good as ap- 
 p inted already. 
 
 We had it back and forth. There was consid- 
 er ble chair thumpin and hollerin , I shouldn t won 
 der. Anyhow, afore twas over every loafer on 
 the main road was crowdin round us and Jim Henry 
 Jacobs was pacin up and down back of the counter 
 ^vith the most worried look on his face ever I see 
 there. It ended by the Major s jumpin to his feet 
 and headin for the door. 
 
 "You you you tarry old imbecile," he hol 
 lers, shakin a fat forefinger at me, " I ll show you 
 a few things. I ll never set foot in this rathole of 
 yours again." 
 
 " You better not," I sung out. "If you dare to, 
 I ll" 
 
 "What?" he interrupts. "You ll what? I ll 
 be back here to-morrow night. Then what ll you 
 do?" 
 
 49
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " I ll show you Mary Blaisdell s petition," I says. 
 " And the names on it ll make you curl up and quit 
 like a sick caterpillar." 
 
 "Humph! I ll show you a petition for Abubus 
 Payne, next postmaster of Ostable, with a string of 
 names on it so long you ll die of old age afore you can 
 finish readin em. Bah! " 
 
 With that he went out and I went into the back 
 room to wash my face in cold water. 
 
 I wrote the headin to the Blaisdell petition afore 
 I turned in that very night. Next mornin I hur 
 ried over and, after consider ble arguin , I got Mary 
 to say she d try for the place. All the rest of that 
 day I put in drivin from Dan to Beersheby gettin 
 signatures. And I got em, too, a schooner load 
 of em. I had the petition ready to show the Major 
 that evenin ; but, when he come into the store, he 
 had a petition, too, just as long as mine. And the 
 worst of it was, in a lot of cases the same names 
 was signed to both papers. Accordin to those peti 
 tions the heft of Ostable folks wanted somebody to 
 keep post-office and they didn t much care who. 
 They wanted to please me and they didn t like to 
 say no to the Major. 
 
 He was mad and I was mad and we had another 
 session. But he wouldn t cross the names off and 
 neither would I and so, after another week, both 
 petitions went in as they was. All the good they 
 
 50
 
 I GET INTO POLITICS 
 
 seemed to do was that we each got a letter from 
 the Post-office Department and Mary Blaisdell was 
 allowed to hold over her brother s place until some 
 body was picked out permanent. And every evenin 
 Major Clark came into the store to tell me Abubus 
 was sure to win and get my prediction that Mary 
 was as good as elected. One week dragged along 
 and then another, and twas still a draw, fur s a 
 body could tell. The Washin ton folks wa n t makin 
 a peep. 
 
 But old Ancient and Honorable Clark was workin 
 his wires on the quiet and I must give in that he 
 pulled one on me that I wa n t expectin . The 
 whole town had got sort of tired of guessin and 
 talkin about the post-office squabble and had drifted 
 back into the reg lar rut of pickin their neighbors to 
 pieces. The Major had set em talkin on a new 
 line durin the last fortni t. He d been fixin up 
 his house and havin the grounds seen to, and so 
 forth. Likewise he d bought an automobile, one 
 of the nobbiest kind. This was somethin of a sur 
 prise, cause afore that he d been pretty much down 
 on autos and did his drivin around in a high-seated 
 sort of buggy " dog cart " he called it though 
 twas hauled by a horse and he hated dogs so that 
 he kept a shotgun loaded with rock salt on his porch 
 to drive stray ones off his premises. 
 
 " Who s goin to run that smell-wagon of yours? " 
 51
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 I asked him, sarcastic. He kept comin to the store 
 just the same as ever and we had our reg lar rows 
 constant. I cal late we d both have missed em if 
 they d stopped. I know I should. 
 
 "Humph!" he snorts; "smell-wagon, hey? If 
 it smells any worse than that old fish dory of yours, 
 I ll have it buried, for the sake of the public health." 
 
 By " fish dory " he meant a catboat I d bought. 
 She was named the Glide and she could glide away 
 from anything of her inches in the bay. 
 
 "But who s goin to run that auto?" I asked 
 again. " Tain t possible you re goin to do it your 
 self. If she went by alcohol power, I could under 
 stand, but " 
 
 " Hush up ! " he says, forgettin to be mad for 
 once and speakin actually plaintive. " Don t talk 
 that way, Snow," says he. "If you knew how much 
 I wanted a drink you wouldn t speak lightly of 
 alcohol." 
 
 "Why don t you take one, then?" I wanted to 
 know. " I believe twould do you good. That and 
 a square meal. If you d forget your prunes and 
 your nutmeats and your quack doctorin " 
 
 He was mad then, all right. To slur at the 
 " World Famous " was a good deal worse than 
 murder, in his mind. He expressed his opinion of 
 me, free and loud. He said I d ought to try Doc 
 tor Conquest, myself, for developin my brains. The 
 
 5 2
 
 I GET INTO POLITICS 
 
 Doctor was pretty nigh a vegetarian, he said, and 
 my head was mainly cabbage and so on. Inci 
 dentally he announced that Abubus was to run the 
 new auto. 
 
 "Abubus!" says I. "Why, he don t know a 
 gas engine from a coffee mill! He wouldn t know 
 what the craft s for." 
 
 " That s all right," he says. " He s been takin 
 lessons at the garage in Hyannis and he can run 
 it like a bird. He knows what it s for. He! he! 
 so do I. By the way, Snow, are you ready to give 
 up the post-office to my candidate yet?" 
 
 "Give up?" says I. "Tut! tut! tut! I hate 
 to hear a supposed sane man talk so. Mary Blais- 
 dell handles the mail in the Ostable post-office for 
 the next three years longer, if she wants to." 
 
 " Bet you five she don t," he says. 
 
 " Take the bet," says I. 
 
 He went out chucklin . I wondered what he had 
 up his sleeve. A week later I found out. Con 
 gressman Shelton, our district Representative at 
 Washin ton, came to Ostable to look the post-office 
 situation over and, lo and behold you, he comes as 
 Major Cobden Clark s guest, to stay at his house. 
 
 When Jim Henry Jacobs learned that, he took 
 me to one side to give me some brotherly advice. 
 
 " It s all up for Mary now," he says. " She 
 can t win. Clark and Shelton are old chums in poli- 
 
 53
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 tics. There s only one chance to beat Payne and 
 that s to bring for ard a compromise candidate a 
 dark horse." 
 
 " Rubbish 1 " I sung out. " Dark horse be hanged ! 
 Shelton s square as a brick. Nobody can bribe him." 
 
 " It ain t a question of bribin ," he says. "If it 
 was, you could bribe, too. Shelton is square, and 
 that s why he d welcome a compromise candidate. 
 But if it comes to a fight between Mary Blaisdell 
 and Abubus Payne, Abubus ll win because he s the 
 Major s pet. Shelton knows the Major better than 
 he knows you. Take my advice now and look out 
 for the dark horse." 
 
 But I wouldn t listen. All the next hour I was 
 ugly as a bear with a sore head and long afore din 
 ner time I told Jacobs I was goin for a sail in the 
 Glide. " Goin somewheres on salt water where the 
 air s clean and not p isoned by politics and automo 
 biles and congressmen and Paynes," I told him. 
 
 I headed out of the harbor and then run, afore 
 a wind that was fair but gettin lighter all the time, 
 up the bay. I sailed and sailed until some of my 
 bad temper wore off and my appetite begun to come 
 back. All the time I was settin at the tiller I was 
 thinkin over the post-office situation and, try as hard 
 as I could to see the bright side for Mary Blaisdell, 
 it looked pretty dark. The Major would give that 
 Shelton man the time of his life and he d talk 
 
 54
 
 I GET INTO POLITICS 
 
 Abubus to him to beat the cars. I couldn t get at 
 the Congressman to put in an oar for Mary and 
 well, I d have discounted my five-dollar bet for about 
 seventy-five cents, at that time. 
 
 I thought and thought and sailed and sailed. 
 When I came to myself and realized I was hungry 
 the Glide was miles away from Ostable. I came 
 about and started to beat back; then I saw I was 
 in for a long job. Let alone that the wind was 
 ahead, twas dyin fast, and if I knew the signs of 
 a flat calm, there was one due in half an hour. I 
 took as long tacks as I could, but I made mighty 
 little progress. 
 
 On the second tack inshore I came up abreast of 
 Jonathan Crowell s house at Heron P int. Jona 
 than s just a no-account longshoreman or he wouldn t 
 live in that place, which is the fag-end of creation. 
 There s a twenty-mile stretch of beach and pines and 
 such close to the shore there, with a road along it. 
 The first eight mile of that road is pretty good 
 macadam and hard dirt. A land company tried to 
 develop that section of beach once and they put in 
 the road; but the land didn t sell and the company 
 busted and after that eight mile the road is just 
 beach sand, soft and coarse. The strip of solid 
 ground, with its pines and scrub-oaks, is, as I said 
 afore, twenty mile long, but it s only a half mile or 
 so wide. Between it and the main cape is a tre- 
 
 55
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 mendous salt marsh, all cut up with cricks that 
 nobody can get over without a boat. Jonathan s 
 is the only house for the whole twenty mile, except 
 the lighthouse buildin s down at the end. The land 
 company put up a few summer shacks on specula 
 tion, but they re all rickety and fallin to pieces. 
 
 I knew Jonathan had gone to Bayport, quahaug 
 rakin , and that his wife was visitin over to Well- 
 mouth, so when the Glide crept in towards the beach 
 and I saw a couple of folk by the Crowell house, 
 I was surprised. I didn t pay much attention to 
 em, however, until I was just about ready to put 
 the helm over and stand out into the bay again. 
 Then they come runnin down to the beach, yellin 
 and wavin their arms. I thought one of em had 
 a familiar look and, as I come closer, I got more 
 and more sure of it. It didn t seem possible, but 
 it was one of those fellers on the beach was Major 
 Cobden Clark. 
 
 " Hi-i ! " yells the Major, hoppin up and down 
 and wavin both arms as if he was practicin flyin ; 
 " Hi-i-i ! you man in the boat ! Come here ! I 
 want you ! " 
 
 That was him, all over. He wanted me, so of 
 course I must come. My feelin s in the matter 
 didn t count at all. I run the Glide in as nigh the 
 beach as I dared and then fetched her up into what 
 little wind there was left. 
 
 56
 
 I GET INTO POLITICS 
 
 " Ahoy there, Major," I sung out. " Is that 
 you?" 
 
 " Hey? " he shouts. " Do you know Why, 
 I believe it s Snow! Is that you, Snow? " 
 
 " Yes, it s me," I hollers. " What in time are 
 you doin way over here? " 
 
 " Never mind what I m doin ," he roared. " You 
 come ashore here. I want you." 
 
 If I hadn t been so curious to know what he was 
 doin , I d have seen him in glory afore I ever 
 thought of obeyin an order from him; but I was 
 curious. While I was considering the breeze give 
 a final puff and died out altogether. That settled 
 it. I might as well go ashore as stay aboard. I 
 couldn t get anywhere without wind. So I hove 
 anchor and dropped the mains l. 
 
 " Come on ! " he kept yellin . " What are you 
 waitin for? Don t you hear me say I want you? " 
 
 I had on my long-legged rubber boots and the 
 water wa n t more n up to my knees. When I got 
 good and ready, I swung over the side and waded 
 to the beach. 
 
 " Hello, Maje," I says, brisk and easy, " you 
 ought not to holler like that. You ll bust a b iler. 
 Your face looks like a red-hot stove already." 
 
 He mopped his forehead. " Shut up, you old 
 fool," says he. Think I m here to listen to 
 a lecture about my face? You carry Mr. Shelton 
 
 57
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 and me out to that boat of yours. We want you 
 to sail us home." 
 
 So the other chap was the Congressman. I d 
 guessed as much. I went up to him and held out 
 my hand. 
 
 " Pleased to know you, Mr. Shelton," says I. 
 " Had the pleasure of votin for you last fall." 
 
 Shelton shook and smiled. " This is Cap n 
 Snow, isn t it? " he says, his eyes twinklin . " Glad 
 to meet you, I m sure. I ve heard of you often." 
 
 " I shouldn t wonder," says I. " Major Clark 
 and me are old chums and I cal late he s mentioned 
 my name at least once. Hey, Maje?" 
 
 The Major grinned. I grinned, too ; and Shelton 
 laughed out loud. 
 
 " I never saw such a talkin machine in my life," 
 snaps Clark. " Don t stop to tell us the story of 
 your life. Take us aboard that boat of yours. 
 You ve got to get us back to Ostable, d you under 
 stand?" 
 
 " Have, hey? " says I. " I appreciate the honor, 
 but . . . However, maybe you won t mind 
 tellin me what you re doin here, twelve miles from 
 nowhere?" 
 
 The Major was too mad to answer, so Shelton 
 did it for him. 
 
 " Well," he says, smilin and with a wink at his 
 partner, " we came in the Major s auto, but " 
 
 58
 
 I GET INTO POLITICS 
 
 He stopped without finishin the sentence. 
 
 "The auto?" says I. " You came in the auto? 
 Well, why don t you go back in it? What s the 
 matter? Has it broke down? Humph! I ain t 
 surprised; them things are always breakin down, 
 specially the cheap ones." 
 
 That stirred up the kettle. The Major give me 
 to understand that his auto cost six thousand dollars 
 and was the best blessedty-blank car on earth. It 
 wa n t the auto s fault. It hadn t broke down. It 
 had stuck in the eternal and everlastin sand and 
 they couldn t get it out, that was the trouble. 
 
 " But Abubus can get it out, can t he?" says I. 
 " Abubus runs it like a bird, you told me so yourself. 
 Now a bird can fly, and if you want to get from 
 here to Ostable in anything like a straight line, 
 you ve got to fly. By the way, where is Abubus? " 
 
 Three or four more questions, and a hogshead 
 of profanity on the Major s part, and I had the 
 whole story. He and Shelton had started for a ride 
 way up the Cape. They was cal latin to get home 
 by eleven o clock, but the machine went so fast that 
 they got where they was goin early and had time 
 to spare. Shelton happened to remember that he d 
 sunk some money in the land company I mentioned 
 and he thought he d like to see the place where 
 twas sunk. He asked Abubus if they couldn t run 
 along the beach road a ways. Abubus hemmed and 
 
 59
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 hawed and didn t know for sure he never was 
 sure about anything. But the Major said course 
 they could; that car could go anywhere. So they 
 turned in way up by Sandwich and come b iliri down 
 alongshore. Long s the old land company road 
 lasted they was all right, but when, runnin thirty- 
 five miles an hour, they whizzed off the end of that 
 road, twas different. The automobile lit In the 
 soft sand like a snow-plow and stopped and 
 stayed. They tried to dig it out with boards from 
 Jonathan Crowell s pig pen, but the more they dug 
 the deeper it sunk. At last they give it up; nothin 
 but a team of horses could haul that machine out of 
 that sand. So Abubus starts to walk the ten or 
 eleven miles back to civilization and livery stables 
 and the Major and Shelton waited for him. And 
 the more they waited the hungrier and madder 
 Clark got. Twas all Abubus s fault, of course. He 
 ought to have had more sense than to run that way 
 on that road, anyhow. He ought to have known 
 better than to get into that sand, a feller that had 
 lived in sand all his life. He was an incompetent 
 jackass. Well, I knew that afore, but it certainly 
 did me good to hear the Major confirm my judgment. 
 I went over and looked at the automobile. It 
 had always acted like a mighty lively contraption, 
 but now it looked dead enough. And not only dead, 
 but two-thirds buried. 
 
 60
 
 I GET INTO POLITICS 
 
 "Well?" fumes Clark, "how much longer have 
 we got to stay in this hole? " 
 
 " It s consider ble of a hole," says I, " and it 
 looks to me as if she d stay there till Abubus gets 
 back with a pair of horses. Considerin how far 
 he s got to tramp and how long it ll be afore he can 
 get a pair, I cal late the hole ll be occupied until 
 some time in the night." 
 
 That wa n t what he meant and I knew it. Did 
 I suppose he and Shelton was goin to wait and 
 starve until the middle of the night? No, sir; the 
 auto could stay where it was; he and the Congress 
 man would sail home with me in the Glide. 
 
 " I hope you ain t in any partic lar hurry," says 
 I, lookin out over the bay. There wa n t a breath 
 of air stirrin and the water was slick and shiny as 
 a starched shirt. " The Glide runs by wind power 
 and there s no wind. This calm may last one hour 
 or it may last two. As long as it lasts I stay where 
 I am." 
 
 What! Did I think they would stay there just 
 because I was too lazy to get my whoopety-bang 
 fish-dory under way? Stay there in that sand-heap 
 sand-heap was the politest of the names he called 
 Crowell s plantation and starve? 
 
 " Oh," says I. " I won t starve. I m goin to 
 get dinner." 
 
 Dinner! The very name of it was like a life- 
 61
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 preserver to a feller who d gone under for the sec 
 ond time. 
 
 "Can you get us dinner?" roars the Major. 
 " By George, if you can I ll " 
 
 " Not for you I can t," I says. " You live ac- 
 cordin to the Payne schedule, on prunes and pecans 
 and such. The prune crop round here is a failure 
 and I don t see a pecan tree in Jonathan s back yard. 
 No, any dinner I d get would give you compound, 
 gallopin dyspepsy, and I can t be responsible for 
 your death I love you too much. But I cal late 
 I can scratch up a meal that ll keep folks with com 
 mon insides from perishin of hunger. Anyhow, 
 I m goin to try." 
 
 62
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 HOW I MADE A CLAM CHOWDER; AND WHAT A CLAM 
 CHOWDER MADE OF ME 
 
 WELL, sir, even the Major s guns was spiked 
 for a minute. I cal late that, for once, 
 he d forgot all about his dietizin and 
 only remembered his appetite. He gurgled and 
 choked and glared. Afore he could get his artillery 
 ready for a broadside I walked off and left him. 
 He d riled me up a little and I saw a chance to rile 
 him back. 
 
 I went around to the back part of the Crowell 
 house and tried the kitchen door. Twas locked, 
 for a wonder, but the window side of it wasn t. I 
 pushed up the sash and reached in fur enough to 
 unhook the door. Then I went into the house and 
 begun to overhaul the supplies in the galley. I 
 found *lour and sugar and salt and pepper and 
 coffee and butter and canned milk and salt pork 
 about everything I wanted. Jonathan and I was 
 friendly enough so s I knew he wouldn t care what 
 I used so long as I paid for it. If he had I d have 
 taken the risk, just then. 
 
 The wood-box was full and I got a fire goin in 
 63
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 the cookstove, and put on a couple of kettles of 
 water to heat. Then I went out to the shed and 
 located a clam hoe and a bucket. There s clams 
 a-plenty most anywheres along that beach and the 
 tide was out fur enough for me to get a bucket- 
 full of small ones in no time. I fetched em up to 
 the house and set down on the back step to open 
 
 ? em. 
 
 The Major and Shelton was watchin me all this 
 time and they looked interested that is, the Con 
 gressman did, and Clark was dom his best not to. 
 Pretty soon Shelton walks over and asks a question. 
 
 " What are you doin with those things, Cap n 
 Snow?" says he, referrin to the clams. 
 
 " Oh," says I, cheerful, " I m figgerin on makin 
 a chowder, if nothin busts." 
 
 " A chowder," he says, sort of eager. " A clam 
 chowder ? Can you ? " 
 
 " I can. That is, I have made a good many and 
 I cal late to make this one, unless I m struck with 
 paralysis." 
 
 " A clam chowder! " he says again, sort of eager 
 but reverent. " By George ! that s good er 
 for you, I mean." 
 
 " I hope twill be good for you, too," says I. 
 " I m sorry that Major Clark s dyspepsy s such that 
 twon t be good for him, but that s his misfortune, 
 not my fault." 
 
 64
 
 A CLAM CHOWDER 
 
 Shelton looked sort of queer and went away to 
 jine his chum. The two of em did consider ble 
 talkin and the Major appeared to be deliverin a 
 sermon, at least I heard a good many orthodox 
 words in the course of it. I finished my clam 
 openin , went in and got my cookin started. The 
 flour and the butter made me think that some hot 
 spider-bread would go good with the chowder 
 and I started to mix a batch. Then I got another 
 idea. 
 
 Twas too late for huckleberries and such, but out 
 back of the shed, beyond the pines, was a little 
 swampy place. I took a tin pail, went out there and 
 filled the pail with early wild cranberries in five 
 minutes. As I was cornin back I noticed an onion 
 patch in the garden. A chowder without onions is 
 like a camp-meetin Sunday without your best girl 
 pretty flat and impersonal. Most of those left 
 in the patch had gone to seed, but I got a half 
 dozen. 
 
 After a short spell that kitchen begun to get 
 fragrant and folksy, as you might say. The coffee 
 was b ilin , the chowder was about ready, there was 
 a pan of red-hot spider-bread on the back of the 
 stove and a cranberry shortcake twould have 
 been better with cream, but to skim condensed milk 
 is more exercise than profit in the oven. I d 
 opened all the windows and the door, so the smell 
 
 65
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 drifted out and livened up the surroundin scenery. 
 Clark and Shelton were settin on a sand hummock 
 a little ways off and I could see em wrinklin their 
 noses. 
 
 When the table was set and everything was ready 
 I put my head out of the window and hollered: 
 
 " Dinner ! " I sung out. 
 
 There wa n t any answer. The pair on the hum 
 mock stirred and acted uneasy, but they didn t move. 
 I ladled out some of the chowder and the perfume 
 of it got more pervadin and extensive. Then I 
 rattled the dishes and tried again. 
 
 "Dinner!" I hollered. "Come on; chowder s 
 gettin cold." 
 
 Still they didn t move and I begun to think my 
 fun had been all for myself. I was disappointed, 
 but I set down to the table and commenced to eat. 
 Then I heard a noise. The pair of em had drifted 
 over to the doorway and was lookin in. 
 
 " Hello! " says I, blowin a spoonful of chowder 
 to cool it. " Am I givin a good imitation of a 
 hungry man? If I ain t, appearances are deceit 
 ful." 
 
 " Hog! " snarls Clark, with enthusiasm. 
 
 " Not at all," says I. " There s plenty of every 
 thing and Mr. Shelton s welcome. So would you 
 be, Major, if there was anything aboard you could 
 eat. I m awful sorry about them prunes and nut- 
 
 66
 
 A CLAM CHOWDER 
 
 meats. I only wish Crowell had laid in a supply 
 I do so." 
 
 The Major s mouth was waterin* so he had to 
 swallow afore he could answer. When he did I 
 realized what he was at his best. Shelton didn t 
 say a word, but the looks of him was enough. 
 
 " My, my! " says I, " I m glad I made a whole 
 kettleful of this stuff; I can use a grown man s share 
 of it." 
 
 Shelton looked at Clark and Clark looked at him. 
 Then the Major yelps at him like a sore pup. 
 
 "Go ahead!" he shouts. "Go ahead in! 
 Don t stand starin at me like a cannibal. Go in 
 and eat, why don t you ? " 
 
 You could see the Congressman was divided in 
 his feelin s. He wanted dinner worse than the Old 
 Harry wanted the backslidin deacon, but he hated 
 to desert his friend. 
 
 " You re sure " he stammered. " It seems 
 mean to leave you, but . . . Sure you wouldn t 
 mind? If it wasn t that you are on a diet and can t 
 eat I shouldn t think of it, but " 
 
 " Shut up ! " The Major fairly whooped it to 
 Jericho. " If you talk diet to me again I ll kill 
 you. Go in and eat. Eat, you idiot! I d just as 
 soon watch two pigs as one. Go in ! " 
 
 So Shelton came in and I had a plate of chowder 
 waitin for him. He grabbed up his spoon and 
 
 67
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 didn t speak until he d finished the whole of it. 
 Then he fetched a long breath, passed the plate for 
 more, and says he: 
 
 " By George, Cap n, that is the best stuff I ever 
 tasted. You re a wonderful cook." 
 
 " Much obliged," says I. " But you ain t com 
 petent to judge until after the third helpin . And 
 now you try a slab of that spider-bread and a cup 
 of coffee. And don t forget to leave room for the 
 shortcake because . . . Well, I swan to man! 
 Why, Major Clark, are you crazy? " 
 
 For, as sure as I m settin here, old Clark had 
 come bustin into that kitchen, yanked a chair up to 
 that table, grabbed a plate and the ladle and was 
 helpin himself to chowder. 
 
 " Major! " says I. 
 
 " Why, Cobden! " says Shelton. 
 
 " Shut up ! " roars the Major. " If either of you 
 say a word I won t be responsible for the conse 
 quences." 
 
 We didn t say anything and neither did he. 
 Judgin by the silence twas a mighty solemn occa 
 sion. Everybody ate chowder and just thought, I 
 guess. 
 
 " Pass me that bread," snaps Clark. 
 
 " But Cobden," says Shelton again. 
 
 " It s hot," says I, " and it s fried, and " 
 
 " Give it to me! If you don t I shall know it s 
 68
 
 A CLAM CHOWDER 
 
 because you re too rip-slap stingy to part with it." 
 
 After that, there was nothin to be done but the 
 one thing. He got the bread and he ate it not 
 one slice, but two. And he drank coffee and ate a 
 three-inch slab of shortcake. When the meal was 
 over there wa n t enough left to feed a healthy 
 canary. 
 
 " Now," growls the Major, turnin to Shelton, 
 "have you a cigar in your pocket? If you have, 
 hand it over." 
 
 The Congressman fairly gasped. " A cigar ! " he 
 sings out. "You goin to smoke? You?" 
 
 "Yes me. I m goin to die anyway. This 
 murderer here," p intin to me, " laid his plans to 
 kill me and he s succeeded. But I ll die happy. 
 Give me that cigar! If you had a drink about you 
 I d take that." 
 
 He bit the end off his cigar, lit it, and slammed 
 out of that kitchen, puffin like a soft-coal tug. Shel 
 ton shook his head at me and I shook mine back. 
 
 " Do you s pose he will die? " he asked. " He s 
 eaten enough to kill anybody. And with his stom 
 ach ! And to smoke 1 " 
 
 " The dear land knows," says I. To tell you 
 the truth I was a little conscience-struck and wor 
 ried. My idea had been to play a joke on Clark 
 tantalize him by eatin a square meal that he couldn t 
 touch and get even for some of the names he d 
 
 69
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 called me. But now I wa n t sure that my fun 
 wouldn t turn out serious. When a man with a lame 
 digestion eats enough to satisfy an elephant no 
 body can be sure what ll come of it. 
 
 The Congressman and I washed the dishes and 
 twas a pretty average sorrowful job. Only once, 
 when I happened to glance at him and caught a 
 queer look in his eyes, was the ceremony any more 
 joyful than a funeral. Then the funny side of it 
 struck me and I commenced to laugh. He joined 
 in and the pair of us haw-hawed like loons. Then 
 we was sorry for it. 
 
 Shelton went out when the dish-washin was over. 
 I cleaned up everything, left a note and some money 
 on Jonathan s table and locked up the house. 
 When I got outside there was a fair to middlin 
 breeze springin up. Shelton was settin on the hum 
 mock waitin for me. 
 
 "Where where s the Major?" I asked, pretty 
 fearful. 
 
 "He s over there in the shade asleep," he 
 whispered. 
 
 " Asleep ! " says I. " Sure he ain t dead ? " 
 
 " Listen," says he. 
 
 I listened. If the Major was dead he was a 
 mighty noisy remains. 
 
 He woke up, after an hour or so, and come 
 trampin over to where we was. 
 
 70
 
 A CLAM CHOWDER 
 
 " Well," he snaps, " it s blowin hard enough now, 
 ain t it? Why don t you take us home?" 
 
 " How about the auto? " I asked. 
 
 The auto could stay where it was until the horses 
 came to pull it out. As for him he wanted to be 
 took home. 
 
 "But but are you able to go?" asked Shel- 
 ton, anxious. 
 
 What in the sulphur blazes did we mean by that? 
 Course he was able to go ! And had Shelton got 
 another cigar in his clothes? 
 
 All of the sail home I was expectin to see that 
 military man keel over and begin his digestion tor 
 ments. But he didn t keel. He smoked and 
 talked and was better-natured than ever I d seen 
 him. He didn t mention his stomach once and you 
 can be sure and sartin that I didn t. As we was 
 comin up to the moorin s in Ostable I m blessed if 
 he didn t begin to sing, a kind of a fool tune about 
 " Down where the somethin -or-other runs." 
 Then I was scared, because I judged that his attack 
 had started and delirium was settin in. 
 
 Shelton shook hands with me at the landin . 
 
 " You re all right, Cap n Snow," he says. " That 
 was the best meal I ever tasted and nobody but you 
 could have conjured it up in the middle of a howlin 
 wilderness. If there s anything I can do for you 
 at any time just let me know."
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 There was one thing he could do, of course, but 
 I wouldn t be mean enough to mention it then. The 
 Major and I had, generally speaking fought fair, 
 and I wouldn t take advantage of a delirious in 
 valid. And just then up comes the invalid himself. 
 
 "See here, Snow," says he, pretty gruff; "I ll 
 probably be dead afore mornin , but afore I die I 
 want to tell you that I m much obliged to you for 
 bringin us home. Yes, and and, by the great 
 and mighty, I m obliged to you for that chowder 
 and the rest of it! It ll be my death, but nothin 
 ever tasted so good to me afore. There ! " 
 
 " That s all right," says I. 
 
 " No, it ain t all right. I m much obliged, I tell 
 you. You re a stubborn, obstinate, unreasonable 
 old hayseed, but you re the most competent person 
 in this town just the same. Of course though," he 
 adds, sharp, " you understand that this don t affect 
 our post-office fight in the least. That Blaisdell 
 woman don t get it." 
 
 "Who said it did affect it?" I asked, just as 
 snappy as he was. That s the way we parted and 
 I wondered if I d ever see him alive again. 
 
 I didn t see him for quite a spell, but I heard 
 about him. I woke up nights expectin to be jailed 
 for murder, but I wa n t; and when, three days 
 later, Shelton started for Washin ton, the Major 
 went away on the train with him. Abubus and his 
 
 72
 
 A CLAM CHOWDER 
 
 wife shut up the house and went off, too, and nobody 
 seemed to know where they d gone. All s could be 
 found out was that Abubus acted pretty ugly and 
 wouldn t talk to anybody. This was comfortin in 
 a way, though, most likely, it didn t mean anything 
 at all. 
 
 But at the end of two weeks a thing happened 
 that meant somethin . I got two letters in the mail, 
 one in a big, long envelope postmarked from the 
 Post-Office Department at Washington and the 
 other a letter from Shelton himself. I don t sup 
 pose I ll ever forget that letter to my dyin day. 
 
 " Dear Captain Snow," it begun. " You may be 
 interested to know that our mutual friend, Major 
 Clark, has suffered no ill effects from our picnic at 
 the beach. In fact, he is better than he ever was 
 and has been enjoying the comforts of city life 
 to an extent which I should not dare attempt. 
 Whether his long respite from such comforts 
 helped, or whether the celebrated Doctor Conquest 
 was responsible, I know not. The Major, however, 
 declares Doctor Payne to be a fraud and to have 
 been, as he says, working him for a sucker. 
 Therefore he has discharged the doctor and dis 
 charged the cousin with the odd name your fel 
 low townsman, Abubus Payne. The mishap with 
 the auto was the beginning of Abubus s finish and the 
 fact that no indigestion followed our chowder party 
 completed it. And also which may interest you 
 still more Major Clark has withdrawn his sup- 
 
 73
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 port of Payne s candidacy for the post-office and 
 urged the appointment of another person, one whom 
 he declares to be the only able, common-sense, hon 
 est man in the village. As I have long felt the 
 appointment of a compromise candidate to be the 
 sole solution of the problem, I was very happy to 
 agree with him, particularly as I thoroughly approve 
 of his choice. When you learn the new postmas 
 ter s name I trust you may agree with us both. I 
 know the citizens of Ostable will do so. 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 " WILLIAM A. SHELTON. 
 
 " P. S. I am coming down next summer and shall 
 expect another one of your chowders." 
 
 My hands shook as I ripped open the other en 
 velope. I knew what was comin somethin in 
 side me warned me what to expect. And there it 
 was. Me me Zebulon Snow, was app inted 
 postmaster of Ostable ! 
 
 Was I mad? I was crazy! I fairly hopped up 
 and down. What in thunder did I want of the 
 postmastership ? And if I wanted it ever so much 
 did they think I was a traitor? Was it likely that 
 I d take it, after workin tooth and nail for Mary 
 Blaisdell? What would Mary say to me? By 
 time, I d show em! It should go back that min 
 ute and my free and frank opinion with it. I d 
 kicked one chair to pieces already, and was beginnin 
 
 74
 
 A CLAM CHOWDER 
 
 on another, when Jim Henry Jacobs come runnin 
 in and stopped me. 
 
 No use to goin into particulars of the argu 
 ment we had. It lasted till after one o clock next 
 mornin . Jim Henry argued and coaxed and proved 
 and I ripped and vowed I wouldn t. He was 
 tickled to death. The post-office was the greatest 
 thing to bring trade that the store could have, and 
 so on. I must take the job. If I didn t somebody 
 else would, somebody that, more n likely, we 
 wouldn t like any better than we did Abubus. 
 
 "No," says I. "Not Mary Blaisdell shall 
 have " 
 
 " She won t get it anyway," says he. " She s out 
 of it Shelton as much as says so whatever hap 
 pens. And she don t want the title anyway. All 
 she needs or cares for is the pay and I ve thought of 
 a way to fix that. You listen." 
 
 I listened under protest, and the upshot of it 
 was that the next day I went up to see Mary. She d 
 heard that I was likely to get the appointment 
 old Clark had been doin some hintin afore he left 
 town, I cal late and she congratulated me as 
 hearty as if twas what she d wanted all along. But 
 I wa n t huntin congratulations. I felt as mean as 
 if I d been took up by the constable for bein a 
 chicken thief, and I told her so. 
 
 " Mary," says I, " I wa n t after the postmaster- 
 75
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 ship. I swear by all that is good and great I wa n t. 
 I don t know what you must think of me." 
 
 " What I ve always thought," says she, " and 
 what "oor Henry thought before he died. My 
 opinion is like Major Clark s," with a kind of half 
 smile, " that the appointment has gone to the best 
 man in Ostable." 
 
 " My, my ! " says I. " Your digestion ain t given 
 you delirium, has it? No sir-ee! I m no more fit 
 to be postmaster than a ship s goat is to teach 
 school." 
 
 " You mustn t talk so," she says, earnest. You 
 will take the position, won t you?" 
 
 " I ll take it," says I, " under one condition." 
 Then I told her what the condition was. She ar 
 gued against it at fust, but after I d said flat-footed 
 that twas either that or the government could take 
 its appointment and make paper boats of it, and 
 she d seen that I meant it, she give in. 
 
 " But," says she, chokin up a little, " I know 
 you re doin this just to help me. How I can ever 
 repay your kindness I don t " 
 
 I cut in quick. My deadlights was more misty 
 than I like to have em. " Rubbish ! " says I, 
 " I m doin it to win my bet with old Clark. I d do 
 anything to beat out that old critter." 
 
 So it happened that when, along in November, 
 the Major came back to Ostable to look over his
 
 A CLAM CHOWDER 
 
 place, afore leavin for Florida, and come into the 
 store, I was ready for him. He grinned and asked 
 me if he had any mail. 
 
 " While you re about it," he says, chucklin , " you 
 can pay me that bet." 
 
 Now the very sound of the word " bet " hit me on 
 a sore place. I d lost one hat to Mr. Pike and the 
 letter I d got from him rubbed me across the grain 
 every time I thought of it. 
 
 "What bet? "says I. 
 
 " Why, the bet you made that the Blaisdell 
 woman would be postmistress here." 
 
 " I didn t bet that," I says. 
 
 "You didn t?" he roared. "You did, too! 
 You bet" 
 
 " I bet that Mary would handle the mail, that s 
 all. So she will; fact is, she s handlin it now. 
 She s my assistant in the post-office here. If you 
 don t believe it, go back to the mail window and 
 look in. No, Major, / win the bet." 
 
 Maybe I did, but he wouldn t pay it. He 
 vowed I was a low down swindler and a " welsher," 
 whatever that is. He blew out of that store like 
 a toy typhoon and I didn t see him again until the 
 next summer. However, I had a feelin that Ma 
 jor Cobden Clark wa n t the wust friend I had, by 
 a consider ble sight. 
 
 You see, that was Jim Henry s great scheme 
 77
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 to hire Mary to run the office as my assistant. He 
 didn t say what salary I was to pay her, and, if I 
 chose to hand over three-quarters of the postmas 
 ter s pay to her, what business was it of his ? I told 
 him that plain, and, to do him justice, he didn t seem 
 to care. 
 
 But he did rub it in about my declarin I d never 
 go into politics. 
 
 In a little while the mail department was as much 
 a part of the " Ostable Grocery, Dry Goods, Boots 
 and Shoes and Fancy Goods Store " as the calico 
 and dress goods counter. We bought the Blaisdell 
 letter-box rack and fixin s and set em up and they 
 done fust-rate for the time bein . I was postmaster, 
 so fur as name goes, but twas Mary that really run 
 that end of the ship. It seemed as natural to have 
 her come in mornin s, as it did for the sun to rise; 
 and, if she was late, which didn t happen often, it 
 seemed almost as if the sun hadn t rose. The old 
 store needed somethin like her to keep it clean and 
 sweet and even Jim Henry give in that she was the 
 best investment the business had made yet. 
 
 As for business it kept on good, even though the 
 summer folks had gone and winter had set in. Our 
 order carts kept runnin and they took orders, too. 
 The store was doin well by us both and I certainly 
 owed old Pullet a debt of thanks for workin on 
 my sympathies until I put my cash into it. There 
 
 78
 
 A CLAM CHOWDER 
 
 was consider ble buildin goin on in town and,, 
 when spring begun to show symptoms of makin 
 Ostable harbor, Jim Henry got possessed of a new 
 idea. I didn t pay much attention at fust. He 
 was always as full of notions as a peddler s cart 
 and if I took every one of em serious we d either 
 been Rockefellers or star boarders at the poorhouse, 
 one or t other. Twa n t till that day in April when 
 old Ebenezer Taylor came in after his mail and 
 went out after the constable that I realized some- 
 thin had to be done. 
 
 You see, Ebenezer s eyes was failin on him and, 
 to make things worse, he d forgot his nigh-to specs 
 and had on his far-off pair. Consequently, when he 
 headed for the after end of the store, he wa n t in 
 no condition to keep clear of the rocks and shoals 
 in the channel. Fust thing he run into was a couple 
 of dress-forms with some bargain calico gowns on 
 em. While he was beggin pardon of them forms, 
 under the impression that they w r as women custom 
 ers, he backed into a roll of barbed wire fencin 
 that was leanin against the candy and cigar counter. 
 His clothes was sort of thin and if that barbed wire 
 had been somebody tryin to borrer a quarter of 
 him he couldn t have jumped higher or been more 
 emphatic in his remarks. The third jump landed 
 him against the gunwale of a bushel basket of eggs 
 that Jacobs was makin a special run on and had 
 
 79
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 set out prominent in the aisle. Maybe Ebenezer 
 was tired from the jumpin or maybe the excitement 
 had gone to his head and he thought he was a hen. 
 Anyhow he set on them eggs, and in two shakes of 
 a heifer s tail he was the messiest lookin omelet 
 ever I see. Jacobs and me and the clerk scraped 
 him off best we could with pieces of barrel hoop 
 and the cheese knife, and Mary come out from be 
 hind the letter boxes and helped along with the 
 floor mop, but when we d finished with him he was 
 consider ble more like somethin for breakfast than 
 he was human. 
 
 And mad! An April fool chocolate cream 
 couldn t have been more peppery than he was. He 
 distributed his commentaries around pretty general 
 Mary got some and so did Jacobs but the heft 
 was fired at me. He hated me anyhow, count of 
 my bein made postmaster and for some other rea 
 sons. 
 
 "You you thunderin murderer!" he hol 
 lered, shakin his old fist in my face. " Twas all 
 your fault. You done it a-purpose. Look at me ! 
 Look! my legs punched full of holes like a skim 
 mer, and and my clothes ! Just look at my 
 clothes! A whole suit ruined! A suit I paid ten 
 dollars and a half for " 
 
 Ten year and a half ago," I put in, involun 
 tary, as you might say. 
 
 80
 
 A CLAM CHOWDER 
 
 " It s a lie. Twon t be nine year till next 
 September. You think you re funny, don t you? 
 Ever since this consarned, robbin Black Republican 
 administration made you postmaster! Postmaster! 
 You re a healthy postmaster! I ll have you ar 
 rested! I ll march straight out and have you took 
 up. I will!" 
 
 He headed for the door. I didn t say nothin . 
 I was sorry about the clothes and I d have paid for 
 em willin ly, but arguin just then was a waste of 
 time, as the feller said when the deef and dumb 
 man caught him stealin apples. Ebenezer stamped 
 as fur as the door and then turned around. 
 
 "I may not have you took up," he says; "but 
 I ll get even with you, Zeb Snow, yet. You wait." 
 
 After he d gone and we d made the place look 
 a little less like an egg-nog, I took Jim Henry by 
 the sleeve and led him into the back room where 
 we could be alone. Even there the surroundin s 
 was so cluttered up with goods and bales and boxes 
 that we had to stand edgeways and talk out of the 
 sides of our mouths. 
 
 " Jim," says I, " this place of ours ain t big 
 enough. We ve got to have more room." 
 
 He pretended to be dreadful surprised. 
 
 ; Why, why, Skipper ! " he says. " You shock 
 me. This is so sudden. What put such an idea as 
 that in your head? Seems to me I have a vague 
 
 81
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 remembrance of handin you that suggestion no less 
 than twenty-five times since the last change of the 
 moon, but I hope that didn t influence you." 
 
 " Aw, dry up," says I. You was right. Let it 
 go at that. Afore I got the postmastership this 
 buildin was big enough. Now it ain t. We ve got 
 to build on or move or somethln . Have you got 
 any definite plan? " 
 
 He smiled, superior and top-lofty, and reached 
 over to pat me on the back; but reachin in that 
 crowded junk-shop was bad judgment, cause his 
 elbow hit against the corner of a tea chest and his 
 next set of remarks was as explosive and fiery as a 
 box of ship rockets. 
 
 " Never mind the blessin ," I says. " Go ahead 
 with the fust course. Have you got anything up 
 your sleeve? anything besides that bump, I mean." 
 
 Well, it seems he had. Seems he d thought it 
 all out. We d ought to buy Philander Foster s 
 buildin , which was on the next lot to ours, move it 
 close up, cut doors through, and use it for the post- 
 office department. 
 
 "Humph!" says I, after I d turned the notion 
 over in my mind. " That ain t so bad, considerin 
 where it come from. I can only sight one possible 
 objection in the offin ." 
 
 "What s that, you confounded Jezebel?" he 
 says. 
 
 82
 
 A CLAM CHOWDER 
 
 " Jezebel? " says I. " What on airth do you call 
 me that for? " 
 
 " Cause you re him all over," he says. " He 
 was the feller I used to hear about in Sunday School, 
 the prophet chap that was always croakin and be 
 lieved everything was goin to the dogs. That was 
 Jezebel, wasn t it? " 
 
 " No," says I, "that was Jeremiah; Jezebel was 
 the one the dogs went to. And she was a woman, 
 at that." 
 
 Well, all right," he says. " Whatever he or 
 she was they didn t have anything on you when it 
 comes to croaks. What s the objection? " 
 
 " Nothin much. Only I don t know s you ve 
 happened to think that Philander might not care to 
 sell his buildin , to us or to anybody else." 
 
 That was all right. We could go and see, 
 couldn t we? Well, we could of course and we 
 did.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A TRAP AND WHAT THE " RAT " CAUGHT IN IT 
 
 FOSTER run a shebang that was labeled 
 "The Palace Billiard, Pool and Sipio Par- 
 lors. Cigars and Tobacco. Tonics, all 
 Flavors. Ice Cream in Season." The " Palace " 
 part was some exaggeration and so was the " Par 
 lors," but the place was the favorite hang-out of 
 all the loafers and young sports in town and the 
 church folks was turrible down on it, callin it a 
 " gilded hell " and such pious profanity. The gilt 
 had wore off years afore and if the hot place ain t 
 more interestin than that billiard saloon it must be 
 dull for some of the permanent boarders. 
 
 We found Philander asleep back of the soft 
 drink counter and young Erastus Taylor " Ratty," 
 everybody called him practicin pin pool, as 
 usual, at one of the tables. " Ratty " was Ebe- 
 nezer Taylor s only son and the combination trial 
 and idol of the old man s soul. Ebenezer thought 
 most as much of him as he did of his money, and when 
 you ve said that you couldn t make it any stronger. 
 He d done a heap to make a man of " Rat " his 
 
 84
 
 A TRAP 
 
 idea of a man even separatin from enough cash 
 to send him to a business college up to Middleboro ; 
 but all the boy got from that college was a thunder 
 and lightnin taste in clothes and a post-graduate 
 course in pool playin . Pool playin was the only 
 thing he cared about and he could spot any one of 
 the Ostable sharps four balls and beat em hands 
 down. He d sampled two or three jobs up to Bos 
 ton, but they always undermined his health and he 
 drifted back home to live on dad and look for an 
 other " openln ." I cal late the pair lived a cat and 
 dog life, for Ratty always wanted money to spend 
 and Ebenezer wanted it to keep. The old man 
 was the wust down on the billiard room of anybody 
 and his son put in most of his time there. 
 
 Me and Jim Henry woke up Philander and told 
 him we wanted to talk with him private. He said 
 go ahead and talk; there wa n t anybody to hear 
 but Ratty, and Rat was just like one of the family. 
 So, as we couldn t do it any different, we went 
 ahead. Jacobs explained that we felt that maybe 
 we might some time or other need a little extry 
 room for our business and, bein as he Philander 
 was handy by and we was always prejudiced in 
 favor of a neighbor and so on, perhaps he d consider 
 sellin us his buildin and lot. Course it didn t make 
 so much difference to him; he could easy move his 
 " Parlors " somewheres else and similar sweet 
 
 85
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 ile. Philander listened till Jim Henry had poured 
 on the last soothin drop, and then he laughed. 
 
 " Um . . . ya-as," he says. " I could 
 move a heap, / could! I m so durned popular 
 amongst the good landholders in this town that any 
 one of em would turn their best settin -rooms over 
 to me the minute I mentioned it. Yes, indeed! 
 Just where bouts would I move? if tain t too 
 much to ask." 
 
 Well, that was some of a sticker, cause / 
 couldn t think of anybody that would have that 
 billiard room within a thousand fathoms of their 
 premises, if they could help it. But Jim Henry he 
 pretended not to be shook up a cent s wuth. That 
 was easy; twas just a matter of Philander s 
 pickin out the right place, that was all there was 
 to it. 
 
 Philander heard him through and then he 
 laughed again. 
 
 " You re wastin good business breath," he says. 
 " I wouldn t sell if I could, unless I had a fust- 
 class place to move into, and there ain t no such 
 place on the main road and you know it. I m doin 
 trade enough to keep me alive and I m satisfied, 
 though I can t lay up a cent. But, so fur as movin 
 out is concerned, I expect to do that on the fust of 
 next November. I ll be fired out, I judge, and 
 prob ly ll have to leave town. Hey, Rat? " 
 
 86
 
 A TRAP 
 
 Ratty Taylor, who d been listenin , twisted his 
 mouth and grunted. 
 
 " Yes," he says, " I guess that s right, worse 
 luck!" 
 
 "You bet it s right!" says Philander. "As I 
 said, Mr. Jacobs, if I could sell out to you and 
 Cap n Zeb I wouldn t, without a good handy place 
 to move into. And I can t sell any way. There s 
 a thousand dollar mortgage on this shop and lot; 
 it s due June fust; and, unless I pay it off which 
 I can t, havin not more n five hundred to my name 
 the mortgage ll be foreclosed and out I go." 
 
 This was news all right. Then me and Jim 
 Henry asked the same question, both speakin to 
 gether. 
 
 ; Who owns the mortgage?" we asked. 
 
 Foster looked at Ratty and grinned. Rat grinned 
 back, sort of sickly. 
 
 " Shall I tell em? " says Philander. 
 
 " I don t care," says Ratty. " Tell em, if you 
 want to." 
 
 " Well," says Foster, " old Ebenezer Taylor, 
 Ratty s dad, owns it, drat him ! and he s tryin to 
 drive me out of town count of Rat s spendin so 
 much time in here. Ratty s a fine feller, but his 
 pa s the meanest old skinflint that ever drawed the 
 breath of life. Not meanin no reflections on your 
 family, Rat but ain t it so? " 
 
 8?
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 "/ shan t contradict you, Phi," says Ratty. 
 
 Jacobs and I looked at each other. Then I got 
 up from my chair. 
 
 " Jim Henry," says I, " I don t see as we ve got 
 much to gain by stayin here. Let s go home." 
 
 We went back to the store, neither of us speakin , 
 but both thinkin hard. It was all off now, of course. 
 If old Taylor owned that mortgage, he d foreclose 
 on the nail, if only to get rid of his son s loafin place. 
 And he wouldn t sell to us hatin us as he did 
 unless we covered the place with cash an inch deep. 
 No, buyin the " Palace " was a dead proposition. 
 And there wa n t another available buildin or lot big 
 enough for us to move to within a mile of Ostable 
 Center. 
 
 " Humph! " says I, some sarcastic. " It looks to 
 me speakin as a man in the crosstrees as if that 
 wonderful business brain of yours had sprung a leak 
 somewheres, Jim. Better get your pumps to workin , 
 hadn t you?" 
 
 He snorted. " I d rather have a leaky head than 
 a solid wood one like some I know," he says. 
 " Quiet your Jezebellerin and let me think. . . . 
 There s one thing we might do, of course: We 
 might advance the other five hundred to Foster, let 
 him pay off his mortagage, and then " 
 
 " And then trust to luck to get the money back," 
 I put in. " There s more charity than profit in that, 
 
 88
 
 A TRAP 
 
 if you ask me. Once that mortgage is paid, you 
 couldn t get Philander out of that buildin with a 
 derrick. He don t want to go." 
 
 " But we might make some sort of a deal to 
 pay him a hundred dollars or so to boot and 
 then " 
 
 " And then you d have another hundred to collect, 
 that s all. I wouldn t trust that billiard and sipio 
 man as fur as old Ebenezer could see through his 
 nigh-to specs. No sir-ee ! Nothin doin , as the 
 boys say." 
 
 Next forenoon I met old Ebenezer Taylor on the 
 sidewalk in front of the Methodist meetin -house 
 and, when he saw me, he stopped and commenced 
 chucklin and gigglin as if he was wound up. 
 
 " He, he, he! " says he. " He, he! I hear you 
 and that partner of yours, Zebulon, want to buy my 
 property next door to you. Well, I ll sell it to you 
 at a price. He, he, he! at a price." 
 
 " So your hopeful and promisin son s been tellin 
 tales, has he? " says I. " I wa n t aware that it was 
 your property yet." 
 
 He stopped gigglin and glared at me, sour and 
 bitter as a green crab-apple. 
 
 " It s goin to be," he says. " Don t you forget 
 that, it s goin to be. And if you want it, you ll pay 
 my price. You owe me for them clothes you 
 ruined, Zeb Snow for them and for other things. 
 
 89
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 And I cal late I ve got you fellers about where I 
 want you." 
 
 " Oh, I don t know," says I. " You may be glad 
 enough to sell to us later on. What good is an 
 empty buildin on your hands ? Unless of course you 
 intend rentin it for another billiard saloon." 
 
 That made him so mad he fairly gurgled. 
 
 There ll be no billiard saloon in this town," he 
 declared. " No more gilded ha nts of sin, temptin 
 young men whose parents have spent good money on 
 their education. No, you bet there won t! And 
 that buildin may not be empty, nuther. I know 
 somethin . He, he, he!" 
 
 "Sho!" says I. "Do you? I wouldn t have 
 believed it of you, Ebenezer." 
 
 I left him tryin to think of a fittin answer, and 
 walked on to the store. Mary called to me from 
 behind the letter-boxes. 
 
 " Mr. Jacobs is in the back room," she says, " and 
 he wants to see you right away. Erastus Taylor is 
 with him." 
 
 " Rastus Taylor? " I sung out. " Ratty? What 
 in the world ? " 
 
 I hurried into the back room. Sure enough, there 
 was Jim Henry and Ratty caged behind a pile of 
 boxes and barrels. 
 
 "Ah, Skipper!" says Jacobs; "is that you? I 
 was hopin you d come. Young Taylor here has 
 
 90
 
 A TRAP 
 
 been suggestin an idea that looks good to me. Tell 
 the Cap n what you ve been tellin me, Ratty." 
 
 Rat twisted uneasy on the box where he was settin 
 and give me a side look out of his little eyes. I never 
 saw him look more like his nickname. 
 
 " Well, Cap n Zeb," he says, " it s like this : I ve 
 been thinkin and I believe I ve thought of a way 
 so you and Mr. Jacobs can get Philander s lot and 
 buildin ." 
 
 "You have, hey?" says I. "That s interesting 
 if true. What s the way? " 
 
 " Why," says he, twistin some more, " that mort 
 gage is due on the first of June. If it ain t paid, 
 Philander ll be foreclosed and he ll move out of 
 town. It s only a thousand dollars and Phi s got 
 half of it. If somebody you and Mr. Jacobs, 
 say was to lend him t other half, why then he 
 could pay it off and and " 
 
 " And stay where he is," I finished disgusted. 
 " That would be real lovely for Philander, but I 
 don t see where we come in. This ain t a billiard 
 and loan society Mr. Jacobs and I are runnin , 
 thankin you and Foster for the suggestion." 
 
 Wait a minute, Skipper," says Jim Henry. 
 " Your engine is runnin wild. That ain t Ratty s 
 scheme at all. Go on, Rat; spring it on him." 
 
 " Philander wouldn t be so set on stayin where 
 he is, Cap n Zeb," says Rat, quick as a flash, " if he
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 had another place to move into; another place here 
 on the main road, convenient and handy by. And 
 I think I know a place that could be got for him." 
 
 I didn t answer for a minute. I was runnin over 
 in my mind every possible place that might be sold 
 or let to Philander Foster for a " Palace." And to 
 save my life I couldn t think of one. 
 
 "Well," says I, at last, "where is it?" 
 
 Ratty leaned forward. " What s the matter with 
 Aunt Hannah Watson s buildin up the street?" he 
 says. " She s been crazy to sell it for a long spell. 
 And the lower floor would make a pretty fair billiard 
 room, wouldn t it?" 
 
 I was disgusted. I knew the buildin he meant, 
 of course. Jacobs and I had talked it over that very 
 mornin as a possible place to move the " Ostable 
 Grocery, Dry Goods, Boots and Shoes and Fancy 
 Goods Store " to, but we d both decided it wa n t 
 nigh big enough. 
 
 "Humph!" says I, "that scheme s so brilliant 
 you need smoked glass to look at it. Do you cal late 
 as good a church woman as Aunt Hannah Watson 
 would sell or let her place for a billiard room? She 
 needs the money bad enough, land knows; but she s 
 as down on those ha nts of sin as your dad Is, Rat 
 Taylor. She d never sell to Phi Foster in this 
 world." 
 
 "She mightn t, I give in," answered Rat. " But 
 92
 
 " Well, I ll sell it to you at a price. "
 
 A TRAP 
 
 her nephew up to Wareham is a diff rent breed of 
 cats. And since she moved over there to live along 
 with him, he s" got the handlin of her property. I 
 found that out to-day. From what I hear of this 
 nephew man he ain t as particular as his aunt. And, 
 anyway, tain t necessary for Philander to make the 
 deal. You and Mr. Jacobs might make it for him." 
 
 I thought this over for a minute. I begun to 
 catch the idea that the young scamp had in his noddle 
 or I thought I did. 
 
 " H m," I says. " Yes, yes. You mean that if 
 we d lend Philander enough to pay the balance of 
 his mortgage on the buildin he s in now and would 
 fix it so s Aunt Hannah d sell us her place, under the 
 notion that we was goin to use it you mean that 
 then, after June fust, Foster d swap. He d move 
 in there and turn over the old Palace to us." 
 
 He and Jim Henry both bobbed their heads em 
 phatic. 
 
 " That s what he means," says Jim. 
 That s the idea exactly, Cap n," says Rat. " I 
 think Philander might be willin to do that." 
 
 " Is that so!" says I, sarcastic. "Well, well! 
 I want to know ! But, say, Ratty, ain t you takin 
 an awful lot of trouble on Foster s account? You re 
 turrible unselfish and disinterested all to once; or 
 else there s a nigger in the woodpile somewheres. 
 Where do you come in on this? " 
 
 93
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 He looked pretty average cheap. He fussed and 
 fumed for a minute and then he blurts out his reason. 
 " Well, I ll tell you, Cap n," he says. " Philander s 
 about the best friend I ve got in this bum town and 
 I get more solid comfort in his saloon than anywheres 
 else. If he s drove out of Ostable, I ll be lonesomer 
 than the grave. I don t want him to go. And 
 besides well, you see, the old man dad, I mean 
 has got a notion about settin me up in business 
 here. And I don t want to be set up not in his 
 kind of business. I know the kind of business I 
 want to go into, and . . . but never mind that 
 part," he adds, in a hurry. 
 
 I smiled. I remembered what old Ebenezer had 
 said about the " Palace " buildin not bein empty on 
 his hands very long and about somethin he knew. 
 It was all plain enough now. He intended openin 
 some sort of a store there with his son as boss. I 
 almost wished he would. Twould be as good as 
 a three-ring circus, that store would, if I knew Ratty. 
 But I was mad, just the same, and when Jim Henry 
 spoke, I was ready for him. 
 
 " Well, Skipper," says Jacobs, " what do you think 
 of the plan? " 
 
 " Think it s a good one, if you re willin to heave 
 morals and common honesty overboard otherwise 
 no. To put up a trick like that on an old widow 
 woman like Aunt Hannah Watson to land a bil- 
 
 94
 
 A TRAP 
 
 liard room on her property, when she d rather die 
 than have it there, is too close to robbin the Old 
 Ladies Home to suit me. I wouldn t touch it with 
 a ten-foot pole. So good day to you, Rat Taylor," 
 says I, and walked out. 
 
 But Jim Henry Jacobs didn t walk out. No, sir! 
 him and that young Taylor scamp stayed in that 
 back room for another half hour and left it whis- 
 perin in each other s ears and actin thicker than 
 thieves. I wondered what was up, but I was too 
 put-out and mad to ask. 
 
 " I ll look it over right after dinner to-morrer," 
 says Jacobs, as they shook hands at the front door. 
 
 " Sure you will, now ? " asks Ratty, anxious. 
 " Don t put it off, cause it may be too late." 
 
 " At one o clock to-morrer I ll be there," says Jim 
 Henry, and Rat went away lookin pretty average 
 happy. 
 
 Jacobs scarcely spoke to me all the rest of that 
 day nor the next mornin . As we got up from the 
 boardin house table the follerin noon he says, with 
 out lookin me in the face, " I ain t goin back to the 
 store now. I ve got an errand somewheres else." 
 
 Yes," says I, " I imagined you had. You re 
 goin down to look at that buildin of poor old Aunt 
 Hannah s. That s where you re goin . Ain t you 
 ashamed of yourself, Jim Jacobs? " 
 
 " Oh, cut it out! " he snaps, savage. " You make 
 95
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 me tired, Skipper. You and your backwoods scru 
 ples give me a pain. I ve lived where people aren t 
 so narrow and bigoted and I don t consider a bil 
 liard room an annex to the hot place. If, by a 
 business deal, I can get that buildin next door to 
 add to our establishment, I m goin to do it, if I 
 have to use my own money and not a cent of yours. 
 Yes, I am goin to look at that Watson property. 
 Now, what have you got to say about it? " 
 
 " Why, just this," says I; " I cal late I ll go with 
 you." 
 
 " You will? " he sings out. " You? " 
 
 " Yes," says I, " me. Not that I feel any dif 
 ferent about skinnin Aunt Hannah than I ever did, 
 but because there s a bare chance that her place may 
 be big enough for us to move the store and post- 
 office to, after all. With that idea and no other, 
 I ll go with you, Jim." 
 
 So we went together, though we never spoke more 
 than two words on the way down. We got the key 
 at the jewelry and hardware shop next door and 
 went in. The Watson place was an old-fashioned 
 tumble-down buildin with a big open lower floor 
 and two or three rooms overhead. I saw right off 
 twouldn t do for us to move into, but likewise I 
 saw that the lower floor might do for Foster, though 
 twa n t as good as where he was, by consider ble. 
 
 Jim Henry looked the place over. 
 
 96
 
 A TRAP 
 
 " No good for us," he snapped. 
 
 " None at all," says I. 
 
 " Humph ! " says he, and we locked up and came 
 down the steps together. As we did so I noticed 
 someone watchin us from acrost the road. 
 
 " There s our friend, Jim Henry," says I. " And, 
 judgin by the way he s starin , he s got on his fur- 
 off glasses and knows who we are." 
 
 He looked across. "Old Taylor, by thunder! " 
 says he. " Well, if my deal goes through we ll jolt 
 the old tight-wad yet." 
 
 " Do you mean you re goin on with that low-down 
 billiard-room game?" I asked. 
 
 " Of course I do," he snapped. 
 
 " Then you ll do it on your own hook. / won t 
 be part or parcel of it." 
 
 " Who asked you to? " he wanted to know. And 
 we didn t speak again for the rest of that day. It 
 made me feel bad, because he and I had been mighty 
 friendly, as well as partners together. The only 
 comfort I got out of it was that, judgin by the way 
 he kept from lookin at me or speakin , he didn t 
 feel any too good himself. 
 
 But that evenin Ratty drifted in and the pair of 
 em had another confab. And next day, after the 
 mail had gone, Jacobs got me alone and says he : 
 
 " Well," he says, " I think I ought to tell you that 
 I ve written that nephew in Wareham and made him 
 
 97
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 an offer on the Watson property. I did it on my 
 own responsibility and I ll pay the freight. But I 
 thought perhaps I ought to tell you." 
 
 "What did you offer?" I asked. He told me. 
 
 " I ll take half," says I, " because I consider it a 
 good investment at that figger. But only with the 
 agreement that the billiard saloon sha n t go there." 
 
 Then you can keep your money," he says, short. 
 And there was another long spell of not speakin 
 between the two of us. 
 
 Mary noticed that there was somethin wrong, 
 and it worried her. She spoke to me about it. 
 
 " Cap n Zeb," she says, " what s the trouble be 
 tween you and Mr. Jacobs? Of course it isn t my 
 business, and you mustn t tell me unless you wish to." 
 
 I thought it over. " Well," says I, " I can t tell 
 you just now, Mary. It s a business matter we don t 
 agree on and it s kind of private. I ll tell you some 
 day, but just now I can t. It ain t all my secret, you 
 see." 
 
 " I see," says she. " I shouldn t have asked. I 
 beg your pardon. I wasn t curious, but I do hate to 
 see any trouble between you two. I like you both." 
 
 I nodded. I was feelin pretty blue. " Jim s a 
 mighty good chap at heart," I says. " I owe him 
 a lot and he s consider ble more than just a partner 
 to me." 
 
 " He thinks the world of you, too," says she. 
 98
 
 A TRAP 
 
 " He s told me so a great many times. That is why 
 I can t bear to see you disagree." 
 
 I couldn t bear it none too well, either, but Jim 
 Henry showed no signs of givin in and I wouldn t. 
 So we moped around, keepin out of each other s 
 way, and actin for all the world like a couple of 
 young-ones in bad need of a switch. 
 
 A couple more days went by afore the answer 
 came from Wareham. When I saw the envelope 
 on the desk, with the Watson man s name in the 
 corner, I knew what it meant and I was on hand 
 when Jim Henry opened it. He was ugly and 
 scowlin when he ripped off the envelope. Then I 
 heard him swear. I was dyin to know what the 
 letter said, but I wouldn t have asked him for no 
 money. I walked out to the front of the store. 
 Five minutes later I felt his hand on my shoulder. 
 He had a curious expression on his face, sort of a 
 mixture of mad and glad. 
 
 " Skipper," he says, " we re buncoed again. We 
 don t get the Watson place." 
 
 " Don t, hey ? " says I. " All right, I sha n t shed 
 any tears. I wa n t after it, and you know it. But 
 I m surprised that your offer wa n t accepted. Why 
 wa n t it?" 
 
 " Because somebody got ahead of me. Here s 
 the letter. Listen to this : Your offer for my 
 aunt s property in Ostable came a day too late. 
 
 99
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 Yesterday I gave a year s option on that property, 
 for five hundred dollars cash, to 
 
 " Land of love ! " I interrupted. " Only yester 
 day! That was close haulin , I must say." 
 
 " Wait," says he, " you haven t heard the whole 
 of it. A year s option . . . for five hundred 
 dollars cash, to Mr. Taylor of your town. 
 
 "Taylor!" says I. "Taylor! My soul and 
 body! The old skinflint beat us again! Well, I 
 swan! " 
 
 " Um-hm," says he. " I size it up like this. 
 He saw us come out of there the other day and 
 guessed that we thought of buyin and movin . So, 
 as he owed us a grudge, and because the Watson 
 property is, as you said, a good investment anyhow, 
 he makes his option offer on the jump, and beat me 
 to it." 
 
 I whistled. " I cal late you ve hit the nailhead, 
 Jim," says I. " Well, to be free and frank, I m glad 
 of it." 
 
 " So am I," says he. 
 
 That was a staggerer. I whirled round and 
 looked at him. 
 
 " You are? " I sung out. 
 
 Yes," says he, " I am. Of course I had my 
 heart set on gettin that Palace for an addition 
 that would give more room and extry space to our 
 place here; and the only \vay I could see to get it 
 
 100
 
 A TRAP 
 
 was to take up with that Rat s proposition. I 
 haven t any prejudice against billiards " 
 
 "Neither have I, but " 
 
 " I know. And you re right. Old lady Watson 
 has, and to run Foster s establishment in on her 
 would have been a low-down mean trick. I ve felt 
 like a thief, but I was so pig-headed I wouldn t back 
 down. Now that I ve got it where the chicken got 
 his, I m glad of it, I really am. Partner, will you 
 forget my meanness and shake hands? " 
 
 Would I? I was as tickled as a youngster with 
 a new tin whistle. And so was he. 
 
 " There s only one thing that keeps me mad," he 
 says, " and that is that old Ebenezer s got the laugh 
 on us again. As for more room for the store 
 well, we ll have to think that out." 
 
 We thought, but it wa n t us that got the answer. 
 Twas Mary Blaisdell. I told her what our fuss had 
 been about, and she agreed that I was right and that 
 Jim Henry s sharp business sense had sort of run 
 away with him for the time bein . 
 
 " But," says she, " we certainly do need more 
 room, both in the mail department and the store. 
 I ve had an idea for some time. Let me think a 
 while." 
 
 Next day she told Jacobs and me what her idea 
 was. Twas that we should build an addition on 
 to our own buildin . Run it two stories high and 
 
 101
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 right out into the back yard. Twas just the thing 
 and the wonder is that we hadn t thought of k our 
 selves. 
 
 "She s a wonder, Jim, ain t she?" says I, when 
 we was alone together. 
 
 " You think so, don t you, Skipper," says he, 
 smilin . 
 
 I flared up. " Sartin I do," I says. " Don t 
 you?" 
 
 " Indeed I do." 
 
 Then what do you mean? " 
 
 " Oh, nothin , nothin . Say, have you seen old 
 Taylor lately? I suppose he s crowin like a Shang 
 hai rooster. I do hate for that old skinflint to have 
 the joke always on his side." 
 
 " I know," says I. " So do I. But some day, 
 if we wait long enough, we may have a chance to 
 laugh at him. I ve lived a good many year and 
 I ve seen it work that way pretty often. We ll 
 wait and when we do laugh, we ll laugh hard." 
 
 And we didn t have to wait so tumble long 
 neither. We got a carpenter in, told him to keep 
 it a secret, but to plan how we could build the back 
 yard extension. The plannin and estimatin kept 
 us busy and we forgot about everything else. Fust 
 along I expected young Taylor would pester .us with 
 more schemes, but he didn t. He never came nigh 
 us once, fact is he seemed mighty anxious to keep 
 
 102
 
 A TRAP 
 
 out of our way, and so long as he did we didn t 
 complain. His dad come crowin and chucklin 
 around a couple of times and finally Jacobs lost his 
 temper and told him if he ever showed his face on 
 our premises again he was liable to be put to the 
 expense of havin it repaired by the doctor. 
 Ebenezer vowed vengeance and law suits, but he 
 went, and after that he sent a boy for his mail in 
 stead of comin to fetch it himself. 
 
 One forenoon, about eleven o clock twas, I was 
 standin on the store platform, when I heard the 
 Old Harry s own row in the " Palace Billiard, Pool 
 and Sipio Parlors." Loud voices, all goin at once, 
 and two or three different assortments of language. 
 Jim Henry heard it, too, and come out to listen. 
 
 "Skipper," he says, sudden; "what day is 
 this?" 
 
 "Why, Thursday," says I, "ain t it? Oh, you 
 mean what day of the month. Hey? By the ever- 
 lastin ! I declare if it ain t the fust of June! " 
 
 The day Foster s mortgage falls due," he says, 
 excited. " I wonder. . . . You don t sup 
 pose " 
 
 He didn t have to suppose, for inside of the next 
 two minutes we both knew. Three men came bustin 
 out of the billiard room door. One was Philander 
 himself, the other was Ezra Colcord, the lawyer, 
 and the third was our old shipmate and bosom friend, 
 
 103
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 Ebenezer Taylor. The old man was fairly frothin 
 at the mouth. 
 
 You you " he sputtered, "you ve deceived 
 me. You ve lied to me. You led me to think " 
 
 " I don t see as you ve got any kick, Mr. Taylor," 
 purrs Philander, smilin . " You ve got your money. 
 What more can you ask?" 
 
 " But but I don t want the money. I want 
 this property, and I ll have it." 
 
 " Oh, no, you won t, Mr. Taylor," says Colcord, 
 the lawyer. This property belongs to Foster now. 
 He s paid your mortgage in full. You have no 
 rights here whatever and I advise you to go before 
 you are arrested for trespassin ." 
 
 Well, the old man went, but he was still talkin 
 and threatenin when he turned the corner. Colcord 
 laughed and shook hands with Philander. 
 
 " Don t mind him, Foster," he says. " He s sore, 
 that s all, but he has no claim whatever. You ve 
 paid off your mortgage and the property is yours 
 absolutely. As for the other matter, the papers will 
 be ready for signature this afternoon. Ha, ha ! 
 I imagine they won t add to our friend s joy." 
 
 " Cal late not," says Philander, grinnin . " This ll 
 be his day for surprises, hey? " 
 
 They shook hands again and Colcord left. Soon s 
 he d gone, Jim Henry grabbed me by the arm. He 
 didn t even wait for the lawyer to get out of sight. 
 
 104
 
 A TRAP 
 
 " Come on," he says. " This is too good to be 
 true. We must find out about this, Skipper." 
 
 So over to the " Parlors " we hurried. Philander 
 looked sort of queer when he saw us comin , but he 
 didn t run away. We commenced to ask questions, 
 both of us together. After we d asked a dozen or 
 so, he held up his hand. 
 
 " Come inside," he says, " and I ll tell you about 
 it. The secret ll be out in a little while, anyhow, 
 and maybe we do owe you fellers a little mite of 
 explanation." 
 
 We went in, wonderin . Philander set up the 
 cigars, ten-centers at that, and then he says: 
 
 " Yes, I ve paid off my mortgage and I cal late 
 you wonder where the money came from. Five 
 hundred of it I had myself. You knew that." 
 
 " Yes," says Jacobs, and I nodded. 
 
 " Um-hm," says he. " Well, I loaned the five 
 hundred to Ratty and he bought the option on Aunt 
 Hannah s buildin with it." 
 
 We fairly jumped off our pins. 
 
 "What?" says I. 
 
 " Rat bought that option?" gasped Jim Henry. 
 " Nonsense! his dad bought it." 
 
 " No-o," says Philander, solemn, " twas Rat that 
 bought it at fust. The whole scheme was his and 
 I give him credit for it. After Mr. Jacobs here 
 had agreed to look at the Watson place, Ratty got 
 
 105
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 Ed. Holmes to take him over to Wareham in his 
 auto. There he see this nephew of Aunt Hannah s, 
 paid down his five hundred and got the option." 
 
 " But that letter I got said " began Jim Henry, 
 and then he pulled up short. " No," says he, " it 
 said Mr. Taylor had secured the option; I remem 
 ber now. But, of course, we supposed it was 
 Ebenezer." 
 
 " And Ebenezer did have it," I put in. " He 
 told me so himself. I met him on the road and 
 he" 
 
 " Hold on, Cap n," cuts in Philander, " no use 
 goin through all that. Ebenezer has got it now. 
 Ratty decoyed his dad down abreast the Watson 
 place while you and Mr. Jacobs was inside lookin 
 it over, and the old man see you two come out." 
 
 " I know he did," says I. " I saw him peekin 
 at us from behind a tree." 
 
 " Yes," goes on Foster, " he was there. And, 
 naturally, he jedged you was cal latin to buy that 
 buildin and move into it. Fact is, he d been in- 
 tendin to buy it himself as an investment, and, now 
 that there was a chance to spite you fellers hove 
 in for good measure, he was more anxious to get 
 it than ever. Then Rat broke the news that he 
 had the option and was willin to sell it to the highest 
 bidder. Ha ! ha ! I guess there was a lively ses 
 sion, but the upshot of it was that Ebenezer bought 
 
 106
 
 A TRAP 
 
 that option off his boy for a thousand dollars. 
 That s how he got it." 
 
 " Well, I ll be hanged! " says Jim Henry. I was 
 way past sayin anything. 
 
 " And so," continues Philander, " the five hundred 
 dollars profit on the option and the five hundred 
 dollars I lent Rat to start with made just the amount 
 needful to pay off my mortgage. And, Squire Col- 
 cord and me paid it off this mornin . You fellers 
 heard the concludin section of the ceremonies. 
 Ebenezer s benediction was some spicy, hey! " 
 
 "But but why, look here, Philander," says 
 I. " I don t understand this at all. Five hundred 
 of that thousand was Rat s. He ain t no philan 
 thropist; he wouldn t give it to you, unless miracles 
 are comin into fashion again. What " 
 
 Foster laughed. " There is a little somethin 
 underneath," he says. " It s been kept pretty close, 
 but the cat ll be out of the bag afore the day s over 
 and, considerin how much you two helped without 
 meanin to, I d just as soon tell you. Ratty told you 
 that his pa was cal latin to set him up in business, 
 didn t he? Yes. Well, Rat s had a notion for a 
 long spell about the business he meant to get into. 
 There s a new sign been ordered for this shebang 
 of mine. Here s the copy for it." 
 
 He reached under the cigar counter and held up 
 a long piece of pasteboard. Twas lettered like this : 
 
 107
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 PALACE BILLIARD, POOL AND SIPIO 
 PARLORS. 
 
 PHILANDER FOSTER & ERASTUS TAYLOR, 
 Proprietors. 
 
 " I cal late the old man ll disown his son when he 
 knows it," goes on Foster, " but Rat had rather run 
 a pool room than be rich, any day in the week. And 
 say," he adds, " if I was you fellers I d try to be on 
 hand when Ebenezer fust sees the new sign. I 
 should think you d get consider ble satisfaction from 
 watchin his face. I m cal latin to, myself," says 
 Philander Foster. 
 
 108
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 I RUN AFOUL OF COUSIN LEMUEL 
 
 WELL, to be honest, I felt pretty bad about 
 that billiard room business. I was real 
 sorry for old Ebenezer. Of course 
 Taylor was a skinflint and a thorough-goin mean 
 man, but Ratty was his son and his pride, and to 
 have a son play a dog s trick like that on the father 
 that had, at least, tried to make somethin out of 
 him, seemed tough enough. And my conscience 
 plagued me. I felt almost as if I was to blame 
 somehow. I wa n t, of course, but I felt that way. 
 A feller s conscience is the most unreasonable part 
 of his works; I ve noticed it often. 
 
 But I needn t have wasted any sympathy on 
 Ebenezer. For the fust little while after his boy 
 went into the pool and sipio business, he was a sore 
 chap. Then, all at once, I noticed that he took to 
 hangin around the " Parlors " consider ble and one 
 evenin I saw him comin out of there, all smiles. I 
 was standin on the store platform and as he passed 
 me I hailed him. We hadn t spoken for a consid 
 er ble spell, but I hadn t any grudge, for my part. 
 
 109
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 "Hello!" says I, "what are you so tickled 
 about?" 
 
 I didn t know as he wouldn t throw somethin at 
 me for darin to hail him, but no, he was ready to 
 talk to anybody, even me. 
 
 " No use," says he, " that boy of mine s a mighty 
 smart feller. He just beat Tom Baker three games 
 runnin , and spotted him two balls on the last one. 
 He s a wonder, if I do say it." 
 
 I looked at him. This didn t sound much like 
 disinheritin . 
 
 Three games of what? " says I. 
 
 " Why, pool," says he, " of course. And Baker s 
 been countin himself the best player in the county. 
 Rastus was playin for the house. Him and Phi 
 lander cleared over a hundred dollars in the last 
 month. That ain t so bad for a young feller just 
 startin in, is it? I always knew that boy had the 
 business instinct, if he d only wake up to it. I ve 
 told folks so time and again." 
 
 He went along, chucklin to himself, and I stood 
 still and whistled. And when I heard that the old 
 man had taken to callin the anti-billiard-room crowd 
 bigoted and narrer it didn t surprise me much. I 
 judged that Ebenezer s opinions was like those of 
 others of his tribe dependent on the profit and 
 loss account in the ledger. You can forgive your 
 own kith and kin a lot easier than you can outsiders, 
 
 no
 
 COUSIN LEMUEL 
 
 especially if your moral scruples are the Taylor 
 kind, to be reckoned in dollars and cents. 
 
 The carpenters were ready to begin work on our 
 store addition at last, and we started right in to 
 build on. Twas an awful job, enough sight worse 
 than movin , but it had to be got through with some 
 way and we wanted to have it finished when the 
 summer season opened for good. If the store had 
 been cluttered up and crowded afore, it was ten 
 times worse now. The amount of energy and 
 healthy remarks that Jacobs, and I wasted in fallin 
 over and runnin into things would have kept a 
 steamer s engines goin from Boston to Liverpool, 
 I cal late. I expected one of us would break our 
 neck sartin sure, but we didn t and, by the fust of 
 July we thought we could see the end. 
 
 "There!" says I, " in another week we ll be 
 clear of sawdust, I do believe. The painters won t 
 be so bad. And we ve got on without any accidents, 
 too, which is a miracle." 
 
 " You ought to knock wood when you say that, 
 Skipper," says Jim Henry. 
 
 " I ve knocked enough of it already with my 
 head," I told him. But I hadn t. At any rate the 
 accident come, and not by reason of the buildin on, 
 either. It come right in the way of everyday trade, 
 from where we wa n t expectin it. That s the way 
 such things generally happen. A feller runs under 
 
 in
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 a tree, so s to keep from gettin rained on and catchin 
 cold, and then the tree s struck by lightnin . 
 
 If I d remembered what old Sylvanus Baxter said 
 when they asked him to prove one of his fish state 
 ments, I d have been a wiser man. Sylvanus was 
 tellin how many mack rel him and his brother caught 
 off Setucket P int with a hand line, back when Methu- 
 salum was a child, or about then. Forty-eight bar 
 rels they caught, and it nigh filled the dory. One 
 of the young city fellers who was listenin undertook 
 to doubt the yarn. He got a piece of paper and a 
 pencil and proved that a dory wouldn t hold that 
 many fish. Sylvanus shut him up in a hurry. 
 
 Young man," he says, scornful, " where a human 
 bein is blessed with a memory same as I ve got, 
 proof s too unsartin to compare with it." 
 
 If I d borne in mind what Sylvanus said and abided 
 by it I might not have dropped the barrel of sugar 
 on my starboard foot. I d have been satisfied to 
 remember my strength and not try to prove it by 
 liftin the said barrel off the tailboard of our delivery 
 wagon. 
 
 However, I did try, and the result was that the 
 barrel slipped when I d got it most to the ground, 
 and my foot went out of commission with a hurrah, 
 so to speak. 
 
 Jim Henry come runnin and him and the clerk 
 loaded me into the wagon and carted me off to my 
 
 112
 
 COUSIN LEMUEL 
 
 rooms at the Poquit House. And there I stayed 
 in dry dock for three weeks, while the doctor done 
 his best to patch up my busted trotter and get me 
 off the ways and into active service again. 
 
 He done his part all right. I was mendin so 
 far as the lower end of me was concerned, but my 
 upper works and temper was gettin more tangled 
 and snarled every day. Too much company was 
 the trouble. I had too many folks runnin in to 
 ask how I was gettin on and to talk and talk and 
 talk. Jim Henry he come, of course, to talk about 
 the store; and Mary Blaisdell, to tell me how the 
 post-office was doin . I could stand them; fact is, 
 Mary was a sort of soothin sirup, with her pleasant 
 face and calm, cheery voice. But the parson he 
 come, to keep the spiritual part of me ready for 
 whatever might happen; and the undertaker, to be 
 sure he got the other part, if it did happen; and 
 twenty-odd old maids and widows from sewin -circle 
 to talk about each other and church squabbles and 
 the dreadful sufferin s and agonizin deaths of their 
 relations, who d had accidents similar to mine. 
 
 They made me so fidgety and mad that the doctor 
 noticed it. "What s troublin you, Cap n Snow?" 
 he asked. " No new pains, I hope? " 
 
 "Humph!" says I. "Your hope s blasted. 
 I ve got the meanest pain I ve had yet." 
 
 " Where? " says he, anxious.
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " All over," I says. Tabitha Nickerson s re 
 sponsible for it. She s been here for the last hour 
 and a half, tellin about how her second cousin, by 
 her uncle s marriage, stuck a nail in his hand and 
 was amputated twice and finally died of lingerin 
 lockjaw. She never missed a groan. Consarn her! 
 She gives me a pain just to look at." 
 
 He laughed. That s the trouble with you old 
 bachelors," he says. " You re too popular with the 
 fair sex." 
 
 " Fair ! " I sung out. " Doc, if you mean to say 
 Tabby Nickerson s fair, then I m goin to switch to 
 the homeopaths. Your judgment ain t depend 
 able." 
 
 He laughed again and then he went on. Seems 
 he d been thinkin for quite a spell that the Poquit 
 House wasn t the place for me. 
 
 >l What you need, Cap n," he says, " is a nice quiet 
 spot where nobody can get at you that is, nobody 
 but the disagreeable necessities, like me. I ve found 
 the place for you to board durin your convalescence. 
 Do you know the Deacon house over at South 
 Ostable on the lower road? " 
 
 " If you mean Lot Deacon s, I do yes," says I. 
 
 That s it," says he. " Lot s all alone there, and 
 he d be mighty glad of a boarder. The house is as 
 neat as wax, and Lot used to go as cook on a Banks 
 boat, so you ll be fed well. It s right on the shore, 
 
 114
 
 COUSIN LEMUEL 
 
 with the woods back of it. There s a splendid view, 
 the air s fine, and and " 
 
 " Don t strain yourself, Doc," I put in. " You 
 couldn t think of anything else if you thought for a 
 week. Air and view is all there is in that neigh 
 borhood. What on earth have I done to be sen 
 tenced to serve a term at Lot Deacon s? " 
 
 Well, it was quiet, and I needed quiet. It was 
 restful, and I needed rest. It was too far from 
 civilization for the undertaker or the sewin -circle 
 to get at me. It was but there ! never mind the 
 rest. The upshot was that I agreed to board at 
 Lot s till my foot got well enough to navigate and 
 they carted me down in the delivery wagon, next day. 
 
 The Deacon place lived up to specifications all 
 right. Nighest neighbor half a mile off, woods all 
 round on three sides, and the bay on t other. Good 
 grub and plenty of it. And no company except the 
 doctor every other day, and Jim Henry the days 
 between, and Lot oh, land, yes ! Lot, always and 
 forever. 
 
 He was a meek little critter, Lot was, accommo- 
 datin and willin to please, as good a cook as ever 
 fried a clam, and a great talker on some subjects. 
 He was a widower, with no relations except an aunt- 
 in-law over to Denboro, and a third cousin up to 
 Boston; and his principal hobby was spirits and 
 mediums and such. He was as sot on Spiritu lism
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 as anybody ever you see, and hadn t missed a Spirit - 
 list camp-meetin in Harniss durin the memory of 
 man. 
 
 However, Lot and I got along first-rate and he d 
 set and talk by the hour about the camp-meetin , 
 which was a couple of weeks off, and how he was 
 goin , and so on. Said I needn t worry about bein 
 left alone, cause his wife s Aunt Lucindy from Den- 
 boro was comin to keep house for me durin the 
 two days he was away. 
 
 "Is your Aunt Lucindy given to spirits, too?" 
 I wanted to know. 
 
 No, she wasn t. Seems her particular bug was 
 " mind cure." She was a widow whose husband 
 had died of creepin paralysis. She d tried every 
 kind of doctorin and patent medicines on him and, 
 in spite of it, the last specimen of " Swamp Bitters " 
 or Thistle Tea " finished him. But, anyhow, 
 Aunt Lucindy had no faith in medicines or doctors 
 after that. She d tried em all and they d gone back 
 on her. Now she was a " mind-curer." 
 
 " She ll prob bly try to cure your foot with mind, 
 Cap n Zeb," says Lot, apologetic as usual. " But you 
 mustn t worry about that. She means well." 
 
 " I sha n t worry," I says. " She can put her 
 mind on my foot, if she wants to; unless it s as hefty 
 as that sugar barrel I cal late twon t hurt me much. 
 But say, Lot," I says, " are all your folks taken with 
 
 116
 
 COUSIN LEMUEL 
 
 something special in the line of religion or cures? 
 How about this cousin this Lemuel one? What s 
 possessin him?" 
 
 Oh, Cousin Lemuel was different. He d had 
 money left him and was an aristocrat. He never 
 married, but lived in " chambers " up to Boston. 
 He didn t have to work, but was a " collector" for 
 the fun of it; collected postage stamps and folks 
 hand-writin s and insects and such. He wasn t very 
 well, his nerves was kind of twittery, so Lot said. 
 
 " Um-hm," says I. " Well, collectin insects 
 would make most anybody s nerves twitter, I cal late. 
 But if Cousin Lemuel likes em, I s pose we hadn t 
 ought to fret. He could pick up a healthy collection 
 of wood-ticks back here in the pines, if he d only 
 come after em, though it ain t likely he will." 
 
 But he did, just the same. Not after the ticks, 
 exactly, but, as sure as I m settin here, this Cousin 
 Lemuel landed in the house at South Ostable, bag 
 and baggage. Twas three days afore the begin- 
 nin of camp-meetin and two afore Aunt Lucindy 
 was expected over. Lot and me was settin in rockin 
 chairs by the front windows in my room lookin out 
 over the bay, when all to once we heard the rattle 
 of a wagon from the woods abaft the kitchen. 
 
 " It s the doctor, I cal late," says Lot, wakin up 
 and stretchin . " Ah, hum, I s pose I ll have to go 
 down and let him in." 
 
 117
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 Tain t the doctor," says I. " He come yester 
 day. More likely it s Mr. Jacobs, though I thought 
 he d gone to Boston and wouldn t be back for three 
 or four days." 
 
 But a minute later we see we was mistaken. 
 Around the house come rattlin Simeon Wixon s old 
 depot wagon, with the curtains all drawed down 
 though twas hot summer and the rack astern and 
 the seat in front piled up high with trunks and bags 
 and satchels and goodness knows what all. Sim was 
 drivin and he had a grin on him like a Chessy cat. 
 
 Whoa ! " says he, haulin in the horses. " Ahoy, 
 Lot ! Turn out there ! Got a passenger for you." 
 
 Lot was so surprised he could hardly believe his 
 ears, though they was big enough to be believed. 
 He h isted up the window screen and looked out. 
 
 "Hey?" he says, bewildered-like. "Did you 
 say a passenger? " 
 
 " That s what I said. A passenger for you. 
 Come on down." 
 
 " A passenger? For me?" 
 
 Yes! yes! yes!" Simeon s patience was givin 
 out, and no wonder. " Don t stay up there," he 
 snaps, " with your head stuck out of that window 
 like a poll-parrot s out of a cage. And don t keep 
 sayin things over and over or I ll believe you are a 
 poll-parrot. Come down! " Then, leaning back 
 and hollerin in behind the carriage curtains, he sung 
 
 118
 
 COUSIN LEMUEL 
 
 out, "Hi, mister! here we be. You can get out 
 now." 
 
 The curtains shook a little mite and then, from 
 behind em, sounded a voice, a man s voice, but kind 
 of shrill and high, and with a quiver in the middle 
 of it. 
 
 "Are you sure this is the right place, driver?" 
 it says. 
 
 " Sartin sure. This is it." 
 
 " But are you certain those animals are perfectly 
 safe? They won t run away?" 
 
 The horses was takin a nap, the two of em. Sim 
 grinned, wider n ever, and winks up at the window. 
 
 " I ll do my best to hold em," he says. " If 
 I d known you was comin I d have fetched an 
 anchor." 
 
 The curtains shook some more, as if the feller 
 inside was fidgetin with em. Then the voice says 
 again and more excited than ever, " Well, why in 
 Heaven s name don t you unfasten this dreadful 
 door? How am I to get out?" 
 
 Simeon stood grinnin , ripped a remark loose un 
 der his breath, jumped from the seat, and yanked 
 the door open. There was a full half minute afore 
 anything happened. Then out from that wagon 
 door popped a black feit hat with a brim like a small- 
 sized umbrella. Under the hat was a pair of thin, 
 grayish side-whiskers, a long nose, and a pair of specs 
 
 119
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 like full moons. The hat and the rest of it turned 
 towards the horses and the voice says: 
 
 You re perfectly sure of those creatures you are 
 drivin ? Very good. Where is the step? Oh, 
 dear! where is the step?" 
 
 Sim reached in, grabbed a little foot with one of 
 them things they call a " gaiter " on it, hauled it 
 down and planted it on the step of the carriage. 
 
 ; There!" he snaps. "There tis, underneath 
 you. Come on ! Here ! I ll unload you." 
 
 Maybe the passenger would have said somethin 
 else, but he didn t have a chance. Afore he could 
 even think he was jerked out of that depot wagon 
 and stood up on the ground. 
 
 " There! " says Simeon. " Now you re safe and 
 no bones broken. Where do you want your dun 
 nage; in the house?" 
 
 I don t know what answer he got. Afore I could 
 hear it there was a gasp and a gurgle from Lot. 
 I turned to him. He was leaning out of the window 
 starin down at the little man under the big hat. 
 
 " I believe " he says, "I I why, it s 
 Cousin Lemuel ! " 
 
 Cousin Lemuel looked around him, at the house, 
 at the woods, at the bay, at everything. 
 
 " Good heavens! " says he, in a sort of groan. 
 " Good heavens! what an awful place! " 
 
 That s how he made port and that was his first 
 1 20
 
 COUSIN LEMUEL 
 
 observation after landin . He made consider ble 
 many more durin the next few days, but the drift 
 of em was all similar. He was a bird, Cousin 
 Lemuel was. His twittery nerves had twittered so 
 much durin the past month or so that his doctors 
 he had seven or eight of em had got tired of the 
 chirrup, I cal late, had held officers counsel, and 
 decided he must be got rid of somehow. They 
 couldn t kill him, cause that was against the law, so 
 they done the next best and ordered him to the sea 
 shore for a complete rest; at least, he said the rest 
 was to be for him, but I judge twas the doctors that 
 needed it most. He wouldn t go to a hotel hotels 
 were horrible, but he happened to think of relation 
 Lot down in South Ostable and headed for there. 
 Whether or not Lot could take him in, or wanted 
 to, didn t trouble him a mite ! He wanted to come 
 and that was sufficient! He never even took the 
 trouble to write that he was comin . When he once 
 made up his mind to do a thing, and got sot on it, 
 he was like the laws of the Medes and Possums 
 or whatever they was in Scripture; you couldn t 
 upset him in two thousand years. It got to be a 
 "matter of principle" with him he was always 
 tellin about his matters of principle and when the 
 " principle " complication struck, that settled it. Oh, 
 Cousin Lemuel was a bird, just as I said. 
 
 And Lot, of course, didn t have gumption enough 
 121
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 to say he wasn t welcome. No, indeed; fact is, Lot 
 seemed to consider his comin a sort of honor, as 
 you might say. If that retired bug-collector had been 
 the Queen of Sheba, he couldn t have had more fuss 
 made over him. The schooner-load of trunks and 
 satchels was carted aloft to the big room next to 
 mine, Lot s room twas, but Lot soared to the 
 attic, and Cousin Lemuel was carted there like 
 wise. He was introduced to me, and about the first 
 thing he said was, would I mind wearin a dressin - 
 robe, or a bath-sack, or somethin to cover up my 
 game foot? the sight of the dreadful bandage affected 
 his nerves. I was sort of shy on sacks and dolmans 
 and such, but I done my best to please him with 
 a patchwork comforter. 
 
 I can t begin to tell you the things he did, or had 
 Lot do for him. Changin the feather bed for a 
 pumped-up air mattress he d fetched along air 
 mattresses was a matter of principle with him and 
 firin the rag mats off the floor of his room, cause 
 the round-and-round braids made whirligigs in his 
 head and so on. But I sha n t forget that first 
 night in a hurry. 
 
 He was in and out of my room no less than fifteen 
 times, rigged out in some sort of blanket dress, fas 
 tened with a rope amidships. He wore that over 
 his nightgown, and a shawl like an old woman s on 
 top of the blanket. His head was tied up in a silk 
 
 122
 
 COUSIN LEMUEL 
 
 handkerchief; and his feet was shoved into slippers 
 that flapped up and down when he walked and 
 sounded like a slack jib in a light breeze. First off 
 he couldn t sleep cause the frogs hollered. Next, 
 twas the surf that troubled him. Then the window 
 blinds creaked. And, at last, I m blessed if he didn t 
 come flappin and rustlin in at half-past one to ask 
 what made it so quiet. I was desp rate, and I told 
 him I was subject to nightmare, and had been known 
 to cripple folks that come in and woke me sudden 
 that way. He cleared out and I heard him pilin 
 chairs and furniture against his door on the inside. 
 After that I managed to sleep till six o clock. Then 
 he knocked and asked if I was thoroughly awake, 
 cause if I was would I tell him what sort of weather 
 twas likely to be, so s he could dress accordin . His 
 risin hour was nine, more principle, of course, 
 but he liked to know what to wear when he did 
 get up. 
 
 And he was just as bad all that day and the next. 
 I d have quit and had the doctor take me back to the 
 Poquit House, but I didn t like to on Lot s account. 
 Poor Lot was all upset and needed some sane per 
 son to turn to for comfort. And besides, although 
 he made me mad, I got consider ble fun out of this 
 Lemuel man s doin s. He was such a specimen that 
 I liked to study him, same as he used to study a new 
 species of insect, when he had that particular craze. 
 
 123
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 He seemed to like me, too, in a way. Anyhow 
 he used to come in and talk to me pretty frequent. 
 He had three words that he used all the time 
 " awful " and " dreadful " and " horrible." Every 
 thing in the neighborhood fitted to them words, 
 cordin to his notion. And he had one question that 
 he kept askin over and over: What should he do? 
 What was there to do in the dreadful place ? 
 
 Why don t you keep on collectin ? " I asked him. 
 ; We re kind of scurce on postage stamps, and the 
 handwritin supply is limited; though you never col 
 lected anything like Lot s signature, I ll bet a cooky. 
 But there s bugs enough, land knows I Why don t 
 you go bug-huntin ? " 
 
 Oh, he was tired of insects. Never wanted to see 
 one again ! 
 
 Then you ll have to wear blinders when you go 
 past the salt-marsh," says I. " The moskeeters are 
 so thick there they get in your eyes. Why not take 
 a swim? " 
 
 Horrible ! he loathed salt-water. He never 
 bathed in it, as a matter of 
 
 I interrupted quick " Then take a walk," says I. 
 
 Walking was a " bore." 
 
 " Well then," I says, " just do what the doctor 
 ordered set and rest." 
 
 But settin made his nerves worse than ever ! " I 
 don t know what is the matter with me, Cap n Snow," 
 
 124
 
 COUSIN LEMUEL 
 
 he says. " My physicians seemed to think I should 
 find what I needed here, but I don t! I don t! 
 I am more depressed and enervated than ever." 
 
 " I know what you need," I said emphatic. 
 
 " Do you indeed? What, pray? " 
 
 " Somethin to keep you interested," I told him. 
 " Your life s like a wharf timber that the worms 
 have been at there s too many * bores in it. If 
 you could find somethin bran-new to interest you, 
 you d be lively enough. I d risk the depression then 
 and the enervation, too, whatever that is." 
 
 Oh, horrible ! How could I joke about a matter 
 of life and death? 
 
 Well, so it went for the two days and in the 
 evenin of the second day, Lot come tiptoein into 
 my room. He was all nerved up. The next 
 mornin was the time he d planned to go to camp- 
 meetin ; and how could he go now ? 
 
 " Why not? " says I. " I ll be all right. Your 
 Aunt Lucindy s comin to keep house, ain t she?" 
 
 "Yes yes, she s comin . But how can I leave 
 Cousin Lemuel? He won t want me to go, I m 
 sure." 
 
 " So m I," I says; " he ll kick as a matter of prin 
 ciple. But if you re gone afore he knows it, he ll 
 have to like it or lump it, one or t other. See 
 here, Lot Deacon; you take my advice and clear out 
 to-morrow early, afore the bug-hunter s nerves twit- 
 
 125
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 ter loud enough to wake him. You can get our 
 breakfast and leave it on the table out here in the 
 hall. I can manage to hobble that far. Afore din 
 ner Aunt Lucindy ll be on deck." 
 
 He brightened up consider ble. " I might do 
 that," he says. " And anyway Aunt Lucindy s likely 
 to be here afore breakfast. She s always terrible 
 prompt. But will Cousin Lemuel forgive me, do 
 you think? " 
 
 " I don t know," says I. " But I will, provided 
 you don t say terrible again. Now clear out and 
 don t let me see you till camp-meetin s over. And 
 say," I called after him, " just ask one of your spirit 
 chums what s good for nerve twitters." 
 
 Next mornin was sort of dark and cloudy, so 
 probably that accounts for my oversleepin . Any 
 how twas after seven o clock when Cousin Lemuel, 
 blanket and shawl and slippers, full undress uni 
 form, comes flappin into my room. I woke up and 
 stared at him. He was pale, and tremblin all over. 
 
 "What s the matter now?" says I. 
 
 "Hush!" he whispers, fearful. "Hush! some- 
 thin awful has happened. My cousin Lot is 
 insane." 
 
 " What? " I sung out, settin up in bed. 
 
 "Hush! hush!" says he. "It is horrible. In 
 sanity is hereditary in our family. What shall we 
 do?" 
 
 126
 
 COUSIN LEMUEL 
 
 " Insane rubbish! " says I, havin waked up a 
 little more by this time. " What makes you think 
 he s insane? M 
 
 He held up a shakin hand. " Listen ! " he whis 
 pers. " He has been makin dreadful noises for 
 the past half-hour, and singin actually singin 
 in the strangest voice. Listen ! " 
 
 I listened. Down below in the kitchen there was 
 a racket of pans and dishes and a stompin as if a 
 menagerie elephant had broke loose from its moor- 
 in s. Then somebody busts out singin , loud and 
 high: 
 
 " There s a land that is fairer than day, 
 And by faith we can see it afar." 
 
 "There, there!" says Lemuel. "Don t you 
 hear it? Would a sane man sing like that? " 
 
 I rocked back and forth in bed and roared and 
 laughed. " A sane man wouldn t," I says, " but a 
 sane woman might, if she had strong enough lungs. 
 That ain t Lot. Lot s gone to camp-meetin , to be 
 gone till to-morrow night. That s his wife s aunt, 
 Lucindy Hammond, from Denboro. She s goin to 
 keep house for us till he gets back." 
 
 127
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE FORCE AND THE OBJECT 
 
 WELL, it took all of fifteen minutes for me 
 to drive the idea out of that critter s head 
 that his relative had gone loony. I was 
 hoppin around on my sound foot tryin to dress, 
 while I explained things. I had enough clothes on 
 to be presentable in white folks society, when there 
 come a whoop up the back stairs. 
 
 " Good morn-in ! " whoops Aunt Lucindy. 
 " Breakfast is ready! Shall I fetch it up? " 
 
 " My soul ! " squeals Cousin Lemuel, and bolts 
 for his own room. I buttoned my collar by main 
 strength and answered the hail. 
 
 "All hands on deck! " I sung out. " Fetch her 
 along." 
 
 There was a mighty stompin on the stairs, and 
 then through the door marches as big a woman as 
 ever I see in my born days. Twa n t only that she 
 was fleshy, she must have weighed all of two hun 
 dred and thirty, but she was big, big as a small 
 mountain, seemed so, and was dressed in some sort 
 of curtain-calico gown that made her look bigger 
 
 128
 
 THE FORCE AND THE OBJECT 
 
 yet. She was luggin a tray heaped up with vittles 
 enough for a small ship s company. 
 
 " Good mornin ," says she, in a voice as big as 
 the rest of her, and as cheery as the fust sunshine 
 on a foggy day. She was smilin all over, but there 
 was a square look to her chin the upper one, for 
 she had no less than two and a half that made 
 me think she could be the other thing if occasion 
 called for. " Good mornin ," says she. " Is this 
 Lemuel?" 
 
 " It ain t," says I. " Cousin Lemuel is in disa 
 bility just at present. My name s Snow." 
 
 "Oh, yes!" she hollers every time she spoke 
 she hollered " Oh, yes 1 Cap n Zebulon Snow, of 
 course. I m Mrs. Hammond. Here s your break 
 fast." 
 
 " Mine ! " says I, lookin at the heap of rations. 
 " You mean mine and Cousin Lemuel s." 
 
 " Oh, no, I don t," says she, still smilin , and 
 puttin the tray down on the table, in the way she 
 did everything, with a bang; " I mean yours, Cap n 
 Snow. Lemuel s is all ready, though, and I ll fetch 
 it right up. I know what men s appetites are; I ve 
 had experience." 
 
 Afore I could think of an answer to this she swept 
 out of the door like a toy typhoon, the breeze from 
 her skirts settin papers and light stuff flyin , and 
 was stompin down the stairs, singin " Sweet By and 
 
 129
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 By " at the top of her lungs. I looked at the tray 
 and scratched my head. My appetite ain t a hum- 
 min -bird s, by a consider ble sight, but that breakfast 
 would have lasted me all day. As for Lemuel, 
 about all he did with food was find fault with it. 
 And just then in he comes. 
 
 " What s that? " says he, pointin to the tray. 
 
 "That?" says I. "That s my breakfast. 
 Yours is just like it and it ll be right up." 
 
 He fidgeted with his specs and bent over to look. 
 His nose was anything but a pug, but I give you 
 my word you could almost see it turn up. 
 
 "Fried potatoes!" he says; "and fried fish! 
 and fried eggs ! and griddle-cakes ! Why why 
 it s all fried! Horrible!" 
 
 "Ain t there enough?" I asks, sarcastic. "If 
 not, I presume likely there s more in the kitchen." 
 
 " Enough ! " he fairly screamed it. " I never take 
 anything but a slice of very dry toast and a cup of 
 tea in the mornin . It s a principle of mine. And 
 I never eat anything fried ! I I " 
 
 " All right," says I, " you tell her so. Here she 
 is." And afore he could get out of the door she 
 sailed through it, luggin another tray loaded like 
 the fust one. She slammed it down and turned to 
 the invalid, who was tryin to hide his blanket dress- 
 in -sack behind a chair. 
 
 " Here is Lemuel ! " she hollers. " It is Lemuel, 
 130
 
 isn t it? I m 50 glad to see you! I m Lucindy, 
 Lot s auntie. In a way we re related, so we must 
 shake hands." 
 
 She reached over and took his little thin hand 
 in her big one and gave it a squeeze that made him 
 curl up like a fishin worm. 
 
 ; There ! " says she, " now we re all acquainted 
 and sociable. Ain t that nice! You two set right 
 down and eat. I ll trot up again in a few minutes 
 to see how you re gettin on. Sure you ve got all 
 you want? All right, then." Out she went, singin 
 away, and Cousin Lemuel flopped down in a chair. 
 
 " Good heavens! " he gasps, working the fingers 
 Aunt Lucindy had shook, to make sure they was all 
 there. "Good heavens!" says he. 
 
 " Yes," says I, " I agree with you." 
 
 " She calls me by my Christian name ! " he says, 
 pantin , " and I never saw her before in my life ! 
 And it it didn t seem to occur to her that I was 
 not fully dressed. What shall I do? " 
 
 " Well," says I, " if you asked me I should say 
 you better make believe eat somethin . What / 
 can t eat I m goin to heave out of the back window. 
 I d ruther satisfy that woman than explain to her, 
 enough sight." 
 
 But he wouldn t eat, seemed to be in a sort of 
 daze, as you might say, and went flappin back to 
 his own room. I tackled the breakfast.
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 It would take a week to tell you all that hap 
 pened that forenoon. My time s limited, so I ll 
 only tell a little of it. When Aunt Lucindy come 
 up-stairs again and see his tray, not a thing on it 
 touched, she wanted to know why. I done my best 
 to explain, tellin her Cousin Lemuel was afflicted 
 in the nerves, and about his tea and toast, and his 
 diff rent kinds of medicines, and his doctors, and so 
 on, but she wouldn t listen to more n half of it. 
 
 " The poor thing! " she says, " Lot told me some 
 about him. He s in error, ain t he. Horatio, my 
 husband that was, was in error, too, but he died of 
 it. That was afore I got enlightened. And you re 
 in error with your foot, Cap n Snow, so Lot says. 
 Well, it s a mercy I m here. The first thing I ll 
 do for you is to give you a cheerful thought. * All s 
 right in the world. You keep thinkin that this 
 forenoon and I ll give you another after dinner. I 
 must get a thought for poor Lemuel, but he needs 
 a stronger one. I ll have one ready for him pretty 
 soon. Now I must do my dishes." 
 
 Soon s she cleared out this time I locked my door. 
 An hour or so later there was a snappish kind of 
 knock on it. 
 
 " Cap n Snow ! I say, Cap n Snow," whispers 
 Lemuel, pretty average testy, " where is my tea and 
 toast? Did you tell that woman about my tea and 
 toast? I m hungry." 
 
 132
 
 THE FORCE AND THE OBJECT 
 
 " I told her," says I. " If you ain t got it, you 
 better tell her yourself." 
 
 " But I don t want to see the creature," he says. 
 
 "Neither do I; that is, I ain t partic lar about 
 it. And I couldn t hop down-stairs if I was. 
 You ll have to do your own tellin . I m goin to 
 read a spell." 
 
 My readin didn t amount to much. He went 
 grumblin back to his room, but I judge his longi/i 
 for tea and toast got the better of his dread for the 
 " creature," cause pretty soon I heard him go down 
 stairs. Aunt Lucindy s singin and dish-clatterin 
 stopped, and I heard consider ble pow-wow goin 
 on. Cousin Lemuel s voice kept gettin higher and 
 shriller, but Aunt Lucindy s was just the same even 
 cheerfulness all the time. Then the ex-insect man 
 comes up the stairs again. I was curious, so I un 
 locked the door. 
 
 " How was the toast? " I asked. His usual pale 
 face was bright red and he was a heap more ener 
 getic than I d ever seen him. 
 
 " She she that woman s crazy! " he sputters. 
 " She s insane; I told her so. I " 
 
 "Hold on!" I interrupted. "Did you get the 
 toast?" 
 
 " I did not. She refused to give it to me. Actu 
 ally refused! She she had that dreadful fried 
 breakfast on the back of the stove and told me to 
 
 133
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 sit right down and eat it like a good fellow. A 
 good fellow to me ! as if I was a dog ! A dog, 
 by Jove ! I explained in spite of my just resent 
 ment I endeavored to reason with her. I told her 
 the doctor had forbidden my eatin a heavy break 
 fast. I said that my nerves were shattered and 
 so on. And what do you suppose she said to me? 
 She had the brazen effrontery to tell me that I had 
 no nerves. Nerves were * errors, whatever that 
 means. All I had to do was to think that that 
 those fried outrages were all right and they would 
 be. And when I you ll admit I had a good rea 
 son when I lost my temper and expressed my 
 opinion of her she began to sing. And she kept on 
 singin . Such singin ! Good heavens ! Horri 
 ble ! " 
 
 Then you ain t had any breakfast? " 
 
 " I have not. But I will have it ! I will ! You 
 mark my words, I " 
 
 He stopped. " The Sweet By and By " had 
 swung into the lower entry and was movin up the 
 stairs. I expected to see Cousin Lemuel beat for 
 snug harbor, but no sir-ee ! he stayed right where 
 he was, settin up in his chair as straight as a ram 
 rod. Aunt Lucindy s treatment might not be 
 workin exactly as she intended, the patient s nerves 
 might not be any better, but his nerve was improvin 
 fast. 
 
 134
 
 THE FORCE AND THE OBJECT 
 
 In she swept, smilin like clockwork, as smooth 
 and as serene as a flat calm in Ostable cove. She 
 paid no attention to the way the little man glared 
 at her, but turned to me and says: ;< Well, Cap n," 
 she says, " have you cherished the thought I gave 
 you?" 
 
 " Um-hm," says I, " I ve put it on ice. I cal late 
 twill keep over Sunday." 
 
 " I ve thought up one for you, Lemuel, you poor 
 thing," she says, turnin to the insect chaser. " It 
 is" 
 
 " Woman," broke in Cousin Lemuel, " I ll trouble 
 you not to call me a poor thing. Where is my tea 
 and toast? " 
 
 She smiled at him, condescendin but pitiful, same 
 as a cow might smile at a kitten that tried to scratch 
 it if a cow could smile. 
 
 " Your breakfast is on the stove, all nice and 
 warm," she says. " You don t really want tea and 
 toast; you only think so. Cap n Snow will tell you 
 how nice those fried potatoes are, and the codfish 
 and" 
 
 " Confound your codfish, madam ! I shall have 
 that tea and toast. I I must have it. My sys 
 tem demands it." 
 
 She shook her head. " Oh, no, it doesn t," says 
 she. " It will demand all the nice things I ve cooked 
 for you if you only think so. Thought is all. Now 
 
 135
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 let me give you your cheerful thought for the day. 
 It is " 
 
 "Confound your thoughts!" yells the nerve 
 sufferer, jumpin out of his chair and makin for the 
 door. " I always have tea and toast for breakfast, 
 and I intend to have it now." 
 
 I hate a fuss, so I tried to pour a little ile on the 
 troubled waters. " Now, Lemuel," says I, " don t 
 let s be stubborn. You " 
 
 He whirled on me like a teetotum. " Stubborn ! " 
 he snaps, " I was never stubborn in my life. This 
 is a matter of principle with me. That woman shall 
 give me my tea and toast." 
 
 Aunt Lucindy smiled, same as ever. " Oh, no, I 
 sha n t," says she, " it would only encourage you in 
 your error and that I shall not permit. Please lis 
 ten to the thought I have for you. It is such a nice 
 one. Be true to your higher self and " 
 
 " Madam," shrieks Lemuel, " my thought about 
 you is that you re an old fat fool ! There ! " And 
 he rushed into the hall and the next second his door 
 slammed so it shook the house. 
 
 For just one minute I thought Aunt Lucindy was 
 goin after him. Her smile stopped, her teeth 
 snapped together, she took one step towards the 
 door, and her big hands opened and shut. But that 
 one step was all she took. When she turned back 
 to me her face was red, but the smile had got busy 
 
 136
 
 THE FORCE AND THE OBJECT 
 
 once more. She set down in the cane rocker it 
 cracked, but it held and says she : 
 
 " He s a little mite antagonistic, don t you think 
 so, Cap n Snow? " 
 
 " Well," says I, " I should think you might call 
 it that without exaggeratin much." 
 
 " Yes," says she, " but I don t mind. There was 
 a time when if anybody d called me an old fat fool 
 I d have well, never mind. I m above such 
 things now. Nothin can make me cross any more. 
 Not even a sassy little, long-nosed shrimp like 
 . . . Ahem. Cap n Snow, have you read The 
 Soarin of Self ? It s a lovely book, an upliftin 
 book." 
 
 I said I hadn t read it and she commenced to tell 
 me about it, repeatin it by chapters, so to speak. I 
 couldn t make much out of it but a whirligig of 
 words, and when she was just beginnin I thought 
 I heard Lemuel s door creak. However, I didn t 
 hear anything more, and she strung along and strung 
 along, about " soul " and " mental uplift " and 
 " high altitude of spirit " and a lot more. By and 
 by I commenced to sniff. 
 
 " Excuse me, marm," I says, " but seems to me 
 I smell somethin burnin . Have you got anything 
 on cookin ? " 
 
 She sniffed then. ""No*," says she, wonderin . 
 " I can t remember anything." Then, with another 
 
 137
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 sniff, " But seems as if I smelt it, too. Like - like 
 bread burnin . Hey? You don t s pose " 
 
 She put for down-stairs. Next thing I knew there 
 was the greatest hullabaloo below decks that you 
 ever heard. Then up the stairs comes Cousin Lem 
 uel, two steps at a jump, which, considerin that his 
 usual gait had been a crawl, was surprisin enough 
 of itself. He had a scorched slice of bread in each 
 hand and he stopped on the upper landin and waved 
 em. 
 
 " I ve got the toast," he yells, triumphant, " and 
 I m goin to have the tea." Then he bolts into his 
 room and locked the door. 
 
 Up the stairs comes Aunt Lucindy. Her face 
 was so red that it looked as if somebody d lit a fire 
 inside it, and her big hands was shut tight. She 
 marched straight to that locked door and hollers 
 through the keyhole. 
 
 "You you little, dried-up critter!" she pants. 
 " LIumph ! I s pose you ve been sent to try my 
 faith, but you sha n t shake it. No, sir! you nor 
 nobody else can shake it or make me lose my tem 
 per. I m perfectly calm and cheerful this minute, 
 lam! Ha, ha! Ha, ha ! " 
 
 " I got my toast," hollers Cousin Lemuel from 
 inside. " And I ll have my tea, in spite of all the 
 New Thought cranks in this horrible hole ! " 
 
 " Indeed you won t. I was prepared for a diffi- 
 138
 
 THE FORCE AND THE OBJECT 
 
 cult case when I came here. Cousin Lot told me 
 about your foolish nerves and all the other errors 
 your selfishness has brought onto you. I made up 
 my mind to set you in the right path and I m goin 
 to do it." 
 
 " I ll have that tea." 
 
 " No, you sha n t. When folks are in error I 
 never give in to em. That s my principle and I 
 stick to it." 
 
 When she said " principle " I pretty nigh fell 
 over. If she d got the " principle " disease the case 
 was desperate. Anyhow, I thought twas about 
 time for somebody with a teaspoonful of common 
 sense to take a hand. 
 
 " See here," says I, " for grown-up folks this is 
 the most ridiculous doin s I ever heard of. Mrs. 
 Hammond, for the land sakes let him have his tea 
 and maybe we ll have peace along with it." 
 
 She turned to me. " Cap n Snow," she says, 
 " speakin as one who has learned to rise above their 
 baser self, and perfectly calm and good-tempered, 
 I advise you to mind your own business. I don t 
 care nothin about the tea itself; it s the principle 
 I m strivin for, I tell you. Do you s pose I ll let 
 that little withered-up, sassy, benighted scoffer " 
 
 "There! there! " says I. Then I bent down to 
 the keyhole. " Lemuel," I says, " be a man and not 
 prize inmate in a feeble-minded home. You re not 
 
 139
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 an idiot. Apologize to this lady and, if you can t 
 get tea, take hot water." 
 
 The answer I got was hotter than any water he 
 was likely to get, enough sight. And there was 
 some " principle " in it, too. 
 
 " Well," says I, disgusted, " I m durn glad that 
 I m unprincipled. Fight it out amongst yourselves, 
 but don t you either of you dare come nigh me. I 
 mean that." And I went into my room and locked 
 that door. 
 
 For two hours I stayed there, readin some and 
 thinkin a whole lot more. Down-stairs Aunt Lu- 
 cindy was singin at the top of her lungs to show 
 how good her temper was, I presume likely and 
 out in the upper hall Cousin Lemuel was tiptoein 
 back and forth and yellin at her that he d have 
 his tea in spite of her, and passin comments on her 
 music. I never knew two such stubborn critters in 
 my life, and I couldn t see any signs of either of em 
 givin in, long as their principles held out. 
 
 I remembered a conundrum that, when I was a 
 young one in school, the teacher used to spring on 
 the big boys in the first class in arithmetic. Twas 
 somethin like this: 
 
 " If an irresistible force runs afoul of an im 
 movable object, what s the result?" 
 
 The boys used to grin and say they didn t know. 
 Neither did I then; but I was learnin the answer 
 
 140
 
 THE FORCE AND THE OBJECT 
 
 that very minute. When an irresistible force meets 
 an immovable object it s a matter of principle, and 
 the result is liable to be most anything. That was 
 the answer, and I was learnin it by observation and 
 experience, same as the barefooted boy learned 
 where the snappin -turtle s mouth was. 
 
 Now the force and the object was in the same 
 house with me, and the minute the doctor, or Jim 
 Henry Jacobs, or anybody else with a horse and 
 team, come to that house, they could take me away 
 with em. I d contracted for quiet and rest, not 
 for a session in Bedlam. 
 
 Twelve o clock struck and I begun to think of 
 dinner. I hobbled over to my door, unlocked it 
 and looked out. Cousin Lemuel s door was open, 
 too, but he wasn t in his room or in the hall either. 
 I wondered where on earth he could be. Next min 
 ute I found out. 
 
 There was a whoop from the kitchen Lemuel s 
 voice and brimmin with pure joy. Then, some 
 where in the same neighborhood, began a most tre 
 mendous thumpin and bangin . A " cast " horse in 
 a narrow stall was the only sounds I ever heard that 
 compared with it. It kept on and kept on, and 
 Lemuel was whoopin and hurrahin accompani 
 ments. Such a racket you never heard in your born 
 days. 
 
 Thinks I, " The critter s nerves have gone back 
 141
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 on him for good. He s really crazy and he s killin 
 that poor mind-curer out of principle." 
 
 Somehow or other I hopped down them stairs on 
 my sound foot, draggin t other after me. Through 
 the dinin -room I hobbled and into the kitchen. 
 There was a roarin fire in the cookstove and in 
 front of that stove was Cousin Lemuel dancin round 
 with a teapot in his hand. The cellar door opened 
 out of the kitchen. It was shut tight, and some 
 body behind it was bangin the panels till I expected 
 every second to see em go by the board. If they 
 hadn t been built in the days when they made things 
 solid they would have. 
 
 "What in the world " I commenced. "You 
 Lemuel whatever your name is what are 
 you doin ? " 
 
 He turned and saw me. His bald head was all 
 shinin with the heat, his big round specs was almost 
 droppin off the end of his long nose, and he sartin 
 did look like somethin the cat brought in. - 
 
 " What am I doin ? " he says. " Can t you see? 
 I m gettin my tea, same as I said I would. Ho ! 
 ho! M 
 
 "Where s Aunt Lucinda?" I sung out. "You 
 loon, have you killed her?" 
 
 He laughed. "No, no!" he says. "She de 
 serves to be killed, but she s alive. She refused to 
 give me my tea; she refused to stop her horrible 
 
 142
 
 THE FORCE AND THE OBJECT 
 
 singin . She was utterly Impossible and I got rid 
 of her. I crept down and watched until she went 
 into the cellar. Then I closed the door and locked 
 it. Cap n Snow, I have never been treated as that 
 woman treated me in my life ! It was a matter of 
 principle with me and I was obliged " 
 
 He couldn t say any more because the poundin 
 on the door broke out again louder than ever. I 
 headed for it and he got in front of me. 
 
 " She is absolutely unharmed, I assure you," he 
 says. 
 
 She sounded healthy, that was a fact. The names 
 she called that insect-hunter was a caution ! 
 
 "Let me out!" she kept hollerin . "You let 
 me out of this cellar, you miserable little good- 
 for-nothin ! If I ever get my hands on you I ll " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " laughs Lemuel. " I couldn t make 
 her lose her temper, could I? Oh, no, she s per 
 fectly calm now ! You re not in the cellar, madam," 
 he calls to her, " you re in error. Thought can do^ 
 anything; think yourself out." 
 
 I looked at him. " Well," says I, " for a person 
 with twitterin nerves, you " 
 
 " D n my nerves ! " says he, which was the most 
 human remark he d ever made in my hearin and 
 proved that he wasn t beyond hopes. " You told 
 me that all I needed was somethin to keep me in 
 terested. Well, I ve got it."
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 "You let me out!" whoops Aunt Lucindy. 
 " Cap n Snow, if you re there, you let me out ! " 
 
 I think maybe I would have let her out, but when 
 I heard what she intended doin to Lemuel I thought 
 twas too big a risk. I turned and hobbled through 
 the dinin -room to the front outside door. And 
 there, just turnin into the yard, was Jim Henry 
 Jacobs, with his horse and buggy. When he saw 
 me he almost fell off the seat. And maybe I wa n t 
 glad to see him! 
 
 " You ! " he says. " You ! walkin l " 
 
 " Yes," says I, " and in five minutes I d have 
 been flyin , I cal late. Don t stop to talk. Help 
 me into that buggy. . . . There ! drive home 
 as fast as you can ! " 
 
 "But what under the canopy is the row?" he 
 says. 
 
 " Row enough," says I. " I ve been shut up 
 along with an irresistible force and an immovable 
 object, and I want to get away from em. Git dap." 
 
 We turned the horse s head. We had just left 
 the yard when he looked back. I looked, too. The 
 cellar had an outside entrance, a bulkhead door. 
 This door was bendin and heavin as if an earth 
 quake was under it. Next minute the staple flew, 
 the door slammed back, and Aunt Lucindy popped 
 out like a jack-iri-the-box. She never paid no atten 
 tion to us, but made for the kitchen. 
 
 144
 
 THE FORCE AND THE OBJECT 
 
 " Who what is that? " gasps Jacobs. 
 
 " That," says I, " is the irresistible force." 
 
 There was a yell from the kitchen and then out 
 of the door flew Cousin Lemuel. He didn t stop 
 for us, either, but ran like a lamplighter to the fence, 
 fell over it, and dove head-fust into the woods. 
 After he was away out of sight we could hear the 
 bushes crackin . 
 
 " And and what gasps Jim Henry, " was 
 that? " 
 
 That," says I, " was the immovable object. 
 Drive on, for mercy sakes ! " 
 
 Next day Lot came to see me at the Poquit House. 
 He was dreadful upset. Seems he hadn t stayed 
 his time out at camp-meetin . One of the mediums 
 or spooks or somethin over there told him there 
 was a destructive influence hoverin over his house 
 and he d hurried back to find out about it. 
 
 " Humph ! " says I. " I should have said it 
 had quit hoverin and had lit. How s Cousin 
 Lemuel?" 
 
 Seems Cousin Lemuel was at the hotel over to 
 Bayport. He d telephoned for his trunks. 
 
 " And he told me," says Lot, wonderin like, " to 
 tell Aunt Lucindy that he intended havin tea and 
 toast three times a day now, as a matter of prin 
 ciple. That s strange, isn t it?"
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " Not to me tain t," says I. " And how s Aunt 
 Lucindy? " 
 
 " Aunt Lucindy s gone back to Denboro," he says. 
 " And she left word for Cousin Lemuel that she 
 should send him a thought whatever that is 
 every day by mail from now on. And you d ought 
 to have seen her face when she said it ! But, Cap n 
 Zeb, when are you comin back to board with me? " 
 
 I shook my head. " Lot," says I, " I like you 
 fust-rate, but your relations are too irresistibly im 
 movable. I m goin to keep clear of em for the 
 rest of my life as a matter of principle," I says, 
 chucklin . 
 
 146
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 ARMENIANS AND INJUNS; LIKEWISE BY-PRODUCTS 
 
 YOU can imagine that Jim Henry and Mary 
 had a good deal of fun over my experience 
 with Lot and his tribe. They joked me 
 about it consider ble. But I didn t mind. My foot 
 was all right again, or nearly so, and the extension 
 to the store had been finished and was workin out 
 fine. We moved the mail room way back and that 
 give us lots of room on the main floor, and Mary 
 had a nice clean place, with plenty of air and light, 
 new sortin table, new desks, and all that. As for 
 business, we done more that summer than we had 
 previous and it kept up surprisin well through the 
 winter. I was happy and satisfied and Jacobs 
 seemed to be. 
 
 But he wa n t. It took a whole lot to satisfy him 
 and, by the time another spring reached us and the 
 cottages begun to open I could see that he was get- 
 tin fidgety. One mornin he come back from a 
 cruise amongst the cottagers he always handled 
 their trade himself and I could see that he was 
 about ready to bile over. 
 
 147
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " Well," says I, " what s weighin on your mind 
 now? Or is it your stomach? I m willin to bet 
 that I m two pound heftier than I was afore I ate 
 them hot biscuits at our boardin house this mornin ; 
 and you got away with three more n I did. Has 
 your ballast shifted, or what? " 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " Skipper," says he, " we re ruined by foreign 
 cheap labor." 
 
 " You re right," says I. " I heard that that 
 Dutch cook used to work in a cement factory, and 
 them biscuits prove it." 
 
 " Nothin doin ," he says. " My noon lunch for 
 two years was * Draw one with a plate of sinkers ; 
 and when it comes to warm dough, I m an immune. 
 That Poquit House cook could practice on me for 
 a week and never dent my nickel-steel digestion. 
 No. What I m full of just now is embroidery." 
 
 I looked at him. 
 
 " See here, Jim Henry," says I, " you ve got me 
 a mile offshore in a fog. Unless you ve swallowed 
 your napkin, I don t see " 
 
 " There ! There ! " he interrupted. " It s noth- 
 in I ve swallowed, I tell you ! It s somethin I ve 
 seen that I can t swallow. I can t swallow those tan- 
 faced, hook-nosed lace peddlers. It s only spring, 
 yet they are thicker round here already than lumps 
 of saleratus in those biscuit we ve been talkin about. 
 
 148
 
 ARMENIANS AND INJUNS 
 
 They re separatin perfectly good easy marks from 
 money that belongs to us, and I m gettin mad. My 
 Turkish blood s risin , and there s likely to be an 
 other Armenian massacre in this neighborhood pretty 
 soon." 
 
 I understood what he meant then. Every sum 
 mer for the last year or two the Cape has been 
 sufferin from a plague of fellers peddlin handmade 
 lace, and embroidery, and such. They re all shades 
 of color except white, and they talk all sorts of lan 
 guages except plain United States; but, no matter 
 what they look like or how they jabber, every last 
 one of them claims to be an Armenian, and to have 
 his hand satchel solid full of native-made tidies, and 
 tablecloths, and the like of that. I never run across 
 the Armenian flag on any of my v yages, but if it 
 ain t a doily, then it ought to be. 
 
 And the prices they charge ! Whew ! A white 
 man would blush every time he named one ; but these 
 fellers, bein all complexions, from light tan Oxford 
 to dark rubber boot, are born to blush unseen, and 
 can charge four dollars for a crocheted necktie and 
 never crack, spot, nor fade. 
 
 Jim Henry was some on high prices himself; like 
 wise, he considered the summer cottagers and the 
 hotel folks as more or less our special property. 
 Therefore, you can understand how this Armenian 
 competition riled and disturbed him. And, as it 
 
 149
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 turned out, that very mornin he d gone to call on 
 Mrs. Burke Smythe, who was one of the Ostable 
 Store s best and most well-off customers, and found 
 her ankle-deep in lamp mats and centerpieces which 
 an Armenian specimen was diggin out of a couple 
 of suit cases. And she d told him that she couldn t 
 pay our bill for another month count of havin spent 
 all her " household allowance " on the " loveliest set 
 of embroidered dress and waist patterns " and such 
 that ever was. There was the dress pattern. 
 Didn t he think it was a " dear " ? 
 
 Well, Jim Henry give in to the " dear " part 
 she d paid sixty-four dollars for it and come away 
 disgusted. These peddlers was takin the coin right 
 out of our mouths, he vowed. What was we goin 
 to do about it? 
 
 " Keep our mouths shut, I guess," says I. " I 
 can t see anything else." 
 
 But that wouldn t do for him. He went away 
 growlin , and for the next couple of days he hardly 
 said a word. I knew he was hatchin some scheme 
 or other, and I took care not to scare him off the 
 nest. The third mornin , he came off himself, 
 fetchin his brood with him. 
 
 " Skipper," says he, joyful, " I believe I ve got it. 
 I believe I ve got the idea that ll put those Armeni 
 ans in the discard. You listen to me." 
 
 I listened, and what he d hatched was somethin 
 150
 
 ARMENIANS AND INJUNS 
 
 like this: We that is, the " Ostable Grocery, 
 Dry Goods, Boots and Shoes, and Fancy Goods 
 Store " would sell embroidery and crocheted plun 
 der, and run the peddlers out of business. We d 
 open a tidy department on our own hook. What 
 did I think of that? 
 
 Well, I didn t think much of it, and I told him so. 
 
 " Don t believe we can do it," says I. 
 
 " Why not? " says he. " We can charge as much 
 as they can, and that seems to be the main thing." 
 
 " That ain t it," I told him. " We can t get the 
 stuff to sell. Plenty of machine made, but the sum 
 mer folks won t have that, cheap or high. What 
 they wake up nights and cry for is the genuine, hand- 
 manufactured article; and, unless you buy it off the 
 peddlers themselves which would be unprofitable, 
 to say the least / don t see where you re goin to 
 get it. Besides, if you could get it, sellin it in a 
 store wouldn t do. Tain t romantic and foolish 
 enough. Take this Burke Smythe woman," says I; 
 " she s a fair sample. She could have got just as 
 nice, pretty dress patterns out of a fashion magazine, 
 or" 
 
 " Great snakes I " he broke in. " You don t 
 think twas a paper pattern she paid sixty-four dol 
 lars for, do you? " 
 
 " Never mind what twas," I says, dignified; 
 twould be all the same, paper or sheet iron. She
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 wouldn t care for it at all if she d bought it in a 
 store. There s nothin mysterious or romantic in 
 that. But here comes one of these liver-complected, 
 black-haired fellers, lookin for all the world like a 
 pirate, and whispers in her ear he s got somethin 
 in that carpetbag of his that nobody else has got, 
 and that ll make Mrs. General Jupiter Jones, or 
 some other of the Smythe bosom friends, look like 
 a last summer s scarecrow. And, as a favor to her, 
 he ain t showed it to Mrs. Jupiter which is most 
 likely a lie, but never mind and he ll sell it to 
 her at a sixty-four-dollar sacrifice, because " 
 
 " Hold on ! " he interrupts. " Cut it out ! Break 
 away! Don t you s pose I ve thought of that? 
 Your old Uncle James Henry Jacobs, doctor of sick 
 businesses, wa n t born yesterday by about thirty- 
 eight years. I ain t figgerin to handle Armenian 
 stuff. See here, Skipper. What makes the summer 
 bunch so crazy to get hold of old clocks, and old 
 chains, and antique junk generally?" 
 
 Well," says I, " for one thing, cause they are 
 antiques. For another, because they come from 
 right here on the Cape, and " 
 
 " That s it," he sings out. " And that s enough. 
 Well, there s plenty of handmade embroideries and 
 laces, not to ngention lamp mats and bed quilts, made 
 right here on the Cape, too. Last fall, the county 
 fair had a buildin solid full of em. This is my 
 
 152
 
 ARMENIANS AND INJUNS 
 
 plan. Do stop your Doubtin Thomas act, and 
 listen." 
 
 The plan was sort of simple but complicated. 
 Fust off, him and me was to see all the old ladies 
 and young girls in Ostable and the surroundin coun 
 try, and get em to agree to sell their hand-made 
 knittin to us. If they wouldn t sell to us direct, 
 then we d sell it for them on commission. We d fit 
 up a room in the loft over the store, advertise it as 
 the " Colonial Curio Shop " or the " Pilgrim Moth 
 ers Exchange," or some such ridiculous or mys 
 terious name, stock it full of the truck the widows 
 and orphans had been knittin or tattin all winter, 
 drop a hint to the summer folks and then set back 
 and take the money. 
 
 " It ll go, I tell you," he says, enthusiastic. " It s 
 a sure winner. Just say the word, Skipper, and we ll 
 start fittin up the loft to-morrow mornin ." 
 
 " Well," says I, pretty doubtful, " if you re so 
 sure, Jim, I " 
 
 "Sure!" he broke in. "Why wouldn t I be 
 sure? There s only one kind of people that can get 
 ahead of me in a business deal and they don t 
 hail from Armenia. Skipper, here s where we hand 
 our peddlin friends theirs, and then some." 
 
 Next mornin he took the spare horse and started 
 out. When he got back that night, he had the bot 
 tom of the wagon covered with bundles of knittin 
 
 153
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 and handmade contraptions, and he made proclama 
 tions that he hadn t begun to cover the available 
 territory. He d seen I don t know how many single 
 females and widows who had the fancywork and 
 crochetin habit; and they sold him everything they 
 had in stock, and promised more. 
 
 They take to it like a duck to water," says he, 
 joyful. " They re all down on the peddlers, and 
 they re goin to pitch in and supply the home market. 
 In another week you can t pass two houses in this 
 town without hearin the merry click of the needle. 
 To-morrow I canvass Denboro and Bayport, and the 
 next day I tackle Harniss. By Monday we ll be 
 ready to fit up the loft." 
 
 And, sure enough, he was right. The amount 
 of stuff he fetched back in that wagon was surprisin . 
 How the female population of Ostable County could 
 have turned out all that embroidery and found time 
 to cook meals and sweep, let alone make calls and 
 talk about their neighbors, beat me a mile. But 
 when he told me what he paid for the collection I 
 begun to understand. However, I didn t say nothin . 
 Twa n t until he commenced to rig up the room over 
 the store that I spoke my thoughts. 
 
 "Why, Jim Henry!" I says. "What are you 
 thinkin of? Puttin panelin on those walls! And 
 paperin with that expensive paper! It must have 
 cost land knows how much a roll. And, for the 
 
 154
 
 ARMENIANS AND INJUNS 
 
 dear land sakes, what are those carpenters cuttin 
 that hole in the upper deck for? " 
 
 " For stairs, of course," says he. Think the 
 customers are goin to fly up there? Don t bother 
 me, Skipper, I m busy." 
 
 "Stairs! " I sings out. "Why, there s stairs al 
 ready. What s the matter with the steps leadin 
 aloft from the back room? We ve used them ever 
 since we ve been here, and " 
 
 " S-shh ! S-shh ! " says he, resigned but impatient. 
 " Cap n, your business instinct is all right in some 
 things, like like well, I can t think what just 
 now, but never mind. You re a good feller, but 
 you re too apt to cal late by last year s almanac. 
 You ain t as up to date as you might be. Do you 
 suppose Her Majesty Burke Smythe, and the rest 
 of the Royal Family we re settin this trap for, will 
 take the trouble to hunt up that back room, and 
 fall over egg cases and kerosene barrels to find the 
 ladder to that loft? And climb the ladder after they 
 find it? No, no! We ll have a flight of stairs right 
 from the main part of this store, where they can t 
 help seein em. And there ll be old-fashioned rag 
 mats on the landin s, and brass candlesticks with can 
 dles in em at night, and " 
 
 "Candles!" says I. "Well; that is the final 
 piece of lunacy ! Why, I could light those stairs like 
 a glory with kerosene lamps while a body was tryin 
 
 155
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 to get sight of em with a candle ! I never heard 
 such nonsense." 
 
 But twas no use. What we must do was make 
 that loft " quaint," and old-fashioned, and the like 
 of that. I didn t understand and so on. 
 
 "All right," says I, "maybe I don t; but I do 
 understand this: Judgin by the amount of hard 
 cash you ve spent for lace tuckers and doilies, and 
 the bill them stairs and panelin s and candlesticks ll 
 come to, I don t see a profit on the Pilgrim Curio 
 Mothers Exchange in ten year big enough to cover 
 a five-cent piece." 
 
 He d risk the profit. Besides, there was another 
 reason for the stairs, and such. To get to em all, 
 the rich folks would have to go right through the 
 store; and if they didn t buy anything upstairs they 
 would down, sure and sartin. He was figgerin on 
 catchin the transient trade, the automobile trade; 
 and all around the foot of the stairs we d have 
 temptin lunches put up and set out, and bottles of 
 ginger ale and boxes of cigars, and so forth, and so 
 on. He preached for half an hour, windin up with : 
 
 " Anyhow, Skipper, if the curio shop should lose 
 money which it won t it will bring customers 
 to the Ostable Grocery, Dry Goods, Boots and Shoes, 
 and Fancy Goods Store, which is the main thing; 
 that and keepin the coin in the United States instead 
 of shippin it to Armenia. The embroideries and 
 
 156
 
 ARMENIANS AND INJUNS 
 
 laces are by-products, as you might say; and if a 
 plant comes out even on its by-products, it s a payin 
 proposition." 
 
 He had me there. I didn t know a by-product 
 from a salt herrin ; so I shut up. 
 
 The " Old Colony Women s Exchange and Curio 
 Room," which was the name he finally picked out, 
 opened at the end of a fortni t. Jacobs had adver 
 tised it in the papers, and put signs for miles up and 
 down the main roads, let alone tellin every well-off 
 summer woman within reachin distance. And, al 
 most from the very start, it done well. The loft 
 was crowded most every afternoon; and sometimes 
 there d be as many as three automobiles anchored 
 alongside our main platform. 
 
 At the end of the fust month, the Exchange had 
 cleared cleared, mind you over two hundred 
 dollars; and Jim Henry was crowin over me like a 
 Shanghai rooster over a bantam. He d had another 
 happy thought, and had added " antiques " to the 
 stock in the loft; and the prices he got for lame 
 chairs and rheumatic tables was somethin scandalous. 
 But it wa n t all joy. There was two things that 
 troubled him. 
 
 One of the things was that the supply of knittin 
 and fancywork was givin out. Likewise the " an 
 tiques." Of course, there was some on hand. Aunt 
 Susannah Cahoon s yeller and black mittens, ear lap- 
 
 157
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 pets, and tippets hadn t sold, and wa n t likely to; 
 and Abinadab Saint s alabaster whale-oil lamp with 
 the crack in it, that his Great-uncle Peleg brought 
 home from sea, hadn t been grabbed to any extent. 
 But these were the exceptions. Most all the good 
 stuff had gone; and, though Jacobs had raked the 
 county with a fine-tooth comb, as you might say, the 
 reg lar dealers from Boston had raked it ahead of 
 him, and there wa n t any " antiques " left. 
 
 There was several reasons for the shortage in 
 fancywork. One was that the knitters and tatters 
 couldn t turn it out fast enough; and, moreover, 
 the season for church fairs was settin in, and the 
 heft of the females, bein reg lar members in good 
 standin , had to tack ship and go to helpin their 
 meetin -houses. So our stock was gettin low, and 
 Jim Henry was worried. 
 
 The other thing that worried him was that we 
 couldn t get the right kind of help to sell the stuff. 
 He couldn t tend to it himself, bein too busy other 
 wise. Mary had the post-office department on her 
 hands. The clerk and the delivery boys wa n t fitted 
 for the job at all; and, as for me, I couldn t sell a 
 blue sugar bowl without a cover for seven dollars 
 and take the money. I knew the one that bought 
 it was perfectly satisfied, but I couldn t do it; I ain t 
 built that way. 
 
 " It s no use, Jim Henry," says I. " I may be 
 158
 
 foolish, but I have ideas about some things; and it s 
 my notion that sartin kinds of folks are fitted by 
 nature for sartin kinds of things. Now, Cape Cod- 
 ders they re fitted for seafarin , and such; and New 
 Yorkers and Chicagoers, like you, are fitted for stock- 
 brokin and storekeepin ; and Italians for hand or 
 gans, and diggin streets, and singin in opera. And 
 when it comes to sellin secondhand stuff or keepin 
 a pawnshop, there s " 
 
 "Rubbish!" he snaps. "A while ago, you d 
 have said that the embroidery trade was cornered 
 by the Armenians. We ve proved that s a fairy tale, 
 ain t we? I ve got some ideas myself. I know the 
 kind of person I want to run that Exchange, and, 
 sooner or later, I ll find him or her. Meantime, 
 we ll have to do the best we can; and I ll take it as 
 a favor if you ll let up on the hammer exercise." 
 
 I wa n t sure what he meant by the " hammer 
 exercise"; but twas plain enough that them "by 
 products " was a sore subject, and that he was wor 
 ried. 
 
 However, he wa n t the only worried lace dealer 
 in the neighborhood. The Old Colony Exchange 
 had made good in one direction, anyhow. It had 
 knocked the embroidery peddlin business higher n a 
 kite. Where there used to be a dozen suit-case 
 luggers paradin through the town, now you scarcely 
 sighted one; and that one looked pretty sick and dis- 
 
 159
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 couraged. The home market had smashed foreign 
 competition for the time bein ; that much was pretty 
 sure. But our stock kept gettin lower and lower, 
 and the auto crowds begun to go by now instead of 
 stoppin . And the few that did stop hardly ever 
 bought anything unless Jim Henry himself was there 
 to hypnotize em into it. 
 
 One mornin I came to the store pretty late, and 
 found our clerk talkin to a dark-complected chap 
 with curly hair and a suit case. I didn t shove my 
 bows into the talk; but, when twas over, I asked 
 the clerk what the critter wanted. He laughed. 
 
 " Oh, he s the last survivor of the peddlin crew," 
 he says. " He ain t sold a thing, and he s goin 
 back to Boston right off. I told him he might as 
 well. He asked a lot of questions about the Ex 
 change, and I took him upstairs and showed him 
 around." 
 
 " You did ? " says I. " What for ? " 
 
 " Oh, just to let him see what he was up against, 
 that s all. He was a pretty decent feller some 
 of them Armenians ain t so bad and I pitied him. 
 He was awful discouraged. He d heard Mr. 
 Jacobs had been tryin to hire a salesman for up 
 there; and he hinted that he d kind of like the 
 job." 
 
 "Did, hey?" says I. "Well, it s a good thing 
 for you and him that Mr. Jacobs didn t catch you. 
 
 1 60
 
 ARMENIANS AND INJUNS 
 
 He d sooner have a snake on the premises than one 
 of them peddlers. What else did he say? Any 
 thing?" 
 
 Why, yes. It developed that he d said a good 
 deal. Asked where we got our stuff, and so on. I 
 judged twas a providence that I come in when I 
 did, or that clerk would have told every last word 
 he knew. I didn t say anything to Jim Henry. No 
 use frettin him unnecessary. 
 
 Three days after that the Injun show r ed up. I 
 don t know as you know it, but there are a few 
 Injuns left on the Cape half-breeds, or three- 
 quarters, they are mostly; and they live up around 
 Cohasset Narrows, or off in the woods in those lati 
 tudes. This one was an old feller, black-haired, of 
 course, and kind of fleshy, with a hook nose and skin 
 the color of gingerbread. I heard talk upstairs in 
 the Exchange; and, when I went aloft, I found him 
 and Jim Henry settin among the by-products, and 
 as confidential as a couple of rats in a schooner s 
 hold. Soon as Jacobs seen me, he sung out for me 
 to heave alongside. 
 
 " Look at that, Cap n Zeb," he says. " What do 
 you think of that? " 
 
 I took what he handed me, and looked at it. 
 Twas a piece of handmade lace a centerpiece, I 
 believe they call it and twas mighty well done. 
 
 " Think of it? " says I. " Well, I ain t much of 
 161
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 a judge, but I d call it a pretty slick article. Who 
 made it?" 
 
 The old black-haired chap answered. 
 
 " My sister," he says. " She make em. Make 
 em plenty." 
 
 " Bully for her! " says I. " She s the lady we ve 
 been lookin for. Maybe she make some more; 
 hey?" 
 
 He grinned; and Jacobs mentioned for me to 
 clear out; so I done it. He and old Gingerbread 
 Face stayed aloft in that Exchange for upward of 
 an hour; and, when they came down, Jim Henry 
 went with him as fur as the door. When the 
 stranger had gone, Jim turns to me and stuck out 
 his hand. 
 
 " Skipper," says he, grinnin like a punkin lantern, 
 "shake! I ve got it." 
 
 ; What have you got? " I asked. I was a little 
 mite provoked at bein sent below so unceremonious. 
 ;< What have you got Asiatic cholery? Thought 
 you wouldn t have nothin to do with Armenians." 
 
 " Armenians be hanged! " says he. " That s no 
 Armenian. He s an Indian, a full-blooded Indian, 
 or pretty near it. And his family is about the only 
 full-bloods left. There s a colony of them up the 
 Cape a ways; and it seems that they pick berries in 
 the summer, and put in their winters turnin out 
 stuff like that centerpiece. He heard about the Ex- 
 
 162
 
 ARMENIANS AND INJUNS 
 
 change, and he s come way down here to see if we 
 bought such things. I told him we bought em with 
 bells on, and he ll be back here to-morrow with an 
 other load." 
 
 Sure enough, he was, load and all; and twould 
 have astonished you to see what fust-class fancywork 
 his sister and the rest of the squaws turned out. 
 Jacobs bought the whole lot, and ordered more; said 
 he d take all the tribe could scare up; and old Gin 
 gerbread his American name, so he said, was 
 Rose, Solomon Rose went away happy. When 
 I found what Jim Henry had paid him for the 
 plunder, I didn t blame Rose for bein joyful. 
 
 But Jacobs didn t care. He was all excitement 
 and hurrah again. He had a new addition made 
 to the Exchange sign. Twas " The Old Colony 
 Women s Exchange, Curio Room, and Indian Ex 
 hibit " now; and inside of two days the Burke 
 Smythes and their friends was callin reg lar, the 
 auto parties was rollin up to the door, and the money 
 was rollin in. Injun embroidery was somethin 
 new; and the summer gang snapped at it like bull 
 frogs at a red rag. 
 
 Then that partner of mine was seized violent with 
 another rush of ideas to the head. I m blessed if 
 he didn t hire old Rose the "Last of the Mo 
 hicans," he called him, among other ridiculous and 
 outlandish names to spend his days in that Injun 
 
 163
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 Exchange loft. Paid him ten dollars a week, he 
 did, just to set there and look the part. Twas 
 a sinful waste of money, cordin to my notion; but 
 Jim Henry shut me up like a huntin -case watch 
 with a snap. 
 
 Who said he could sell? " he wanted to know. 
 " I didn t, did I ? I don t know that he can t he s 
 shrewd enough when it comes to sellin us the stuff 
 he brings with him; but if he don t sell a fifty-cent 
 article " 
 
 Which he won t," I interrupted; " for there s 
 nothin less than two-seventy-five in the robbers den, 
 and you know it. How you have the face to 
 charge " 
 
 Will you be quiet? " he wanted to know. " As 
 I say, whether he sells or not, he s wuth his wages 
 twice over. Can t you understand? Just oblige me 
 by rubbin your brains with scourin soap or some- 
 thin , and try to understand. All the auto bunch 
 ain t lambs; some of them the males especially 
 are a fairly cagey collection; and there s been doubts 
 expressed concernin the genuineness of our Injun 
 exhibit. But with old Uncas with the Last of the 
 Mohicans himself right on deck as a livin guarantee, 
 why, we could sell clam-shells as small change from 
 Sittin Bull s wampum belt, and never raise a sacri 
 legious question even from a Unitarian freethinker. 
 It s a cinch." 
 
 164
 
 ARMENIANS AND INJUNS 
 
 " See here, Jim Henry," says I, " if this thing s 
 a fraud, I won t have anything to do with it." 
 
 " Neither will I," says he, emphatic. " Frauds 
 don t pay, not in the long run. But grandmother s 
 genuine antiques and the A-number-one, Simon-pure 
 embroideries of the noble red man or woman 
 pay, and don t you forget it." 
 
 They did pay; and old Mohican himself was a 
 payin investment, too, in spite of my doubts and 
 Jeremiah prophesyin . He made a ten-strike with 
 every female that hit that loft. They said he was 
 so " quaint," and " odd," and " pathetic." Mrs. 
 Burke Smythe vowed there was somethin " big " and 
 " great " about him meanin his nose or his boots, 
 I presume likely and, somehow or other, though 
 he didn t look like a salesman, he sold. And every 
 week or so he d take a day off and go back home, 
 to return with a fresh supply of tidies, and lace, and 
 gimcracks. I changed my mind about Injuns. I 
 see right off that all the yarns I d read about em 
 was lies. They didn t murder nor scalp their ene 
 mies they smothered em with lamp mats. 
 
 And twa n t fancywork alone that the Rose critter 
 fetched back from these home v yages of his. He 
 struck an " antique " vein somewheres in the reserva 
 tion; and not a week went by that he didn t resurrect 
 an old bedstead or a table or a spinnin wheel or 
 somethin , and fetched em down in an old wagon 
 
 165
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 towed by an old white horse. The " children of the 
 forest " which was another of Jim Henry s names 
 for the Injuns and half-breeds didn t give up 
 these things for nothin ; far from it. We had to 
 pay as much as if they was made of solid silver; 
 but we sold em at gold prices, so that part was all 
 right. 
 
 And every other day Jacobs would ask me what 
 I thought of " by-products " now. As for Arme 
 nian competition, it was dead. There wa n t any. 
 
 Well, three more weeks drifted along, and the 
 summer season was most over. Then, one Tues 
 day mornin , old Rose, the Mohican, didn t show 
 up. He d gone away on Friday cal latin to be back 
 Monday with a fresh lot of " antiques " and center 
 pieces; but he wa n t. And Tuesday and Wednes 
 day passed, and he didn t come. Jim Henry was 
 awful worried. We needed more stock, and we 
 needed our Injun curio; and nothin would do but I 
 must turn myself into a relief expedition and hunt 
 him up. 
 
 " Somethin s happened, sure," says Jacobs. 
 " He s never missed his time afore. Those fellers 
 pride themselves on keepin their word you read 
 Cooper, if you don t believe it and he s sick or 
 dead; one or the other." 
 
 " Dead nothin ! " says I. " He s too tough to 
 kill, and nothin would make him sick but soap and 
 
 1 66
 
 ARMENIANS AND INJUNS 
 
 water, which ain t one of his bad habits by a con- 
 sider ble sight. However, if it ll make you any 
 easier, I ll take the mornin train and locate him if 
 I can." 
 
 " Go ahead," says he. " I d do it myself, but I 
 can t leave just now. Go ahead, Skipper, and don t 
 come back till you ve got him, or found out why he 
 isn t on hand." 
 
 So I took the mornin train and set out to locate 
 the noble red man. 
 
 167
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 UT locatin him wa n t such an easy matter. 
 All we knew was he lived somewheres in 
 Wampaquoit, and Wampaquoit is ten miles 
 from nowhere, in the woods up around Cohasset 
 Narrows. I got off the train at the Narrows de 
 pot, and, after considerable cruisin and bargaining 
 I hired a horse and buggy, and started to drive over. 
 I lost my way and got onto a wood road. Don t 
 ask me about that road. I don t want to talk about 
 it. I d been on salt water for a good many years, 
 and I d seen some rough goin , but rockin and 
 bouncin over that wood road come nigher to makin 
 me seasick than any of my Grand Banks trips. Nar 
 row! And grown over! My land! I had to 
 stoop to keep from bein scraped off the seat; and, 
 whenever I d straighten up to ease my back, a pine 
 branch would fetch me a slap in the face that you 
 could hear half a mile. 
 
 As for my language, you could hear that two 
 miles. That road ruined my moral reputation, I m 
 afraid. They had a revival meetin in the Narrows 
 
 168
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 meetin -house the follerin week, but whether twas 
 on my account or not I don t know. 
 
 However, I made port after a spell that is, I 
 run afoul of a house and lot in a clearin sort of; 
 and I asked a black-lookin male critter, who was 
 asleep under a tree, how to get to Wampaquoit. He 
 riz upon one elbow, brushed the mosquitoes away 
 from his mouth, and made answer that twas Wam 
 paquoit I was in. 
 
 " But the town? " says I. " Where s the town? " 
 
 Well, it appeared that this was the town, or part of 
 it. The rest was scattered along through the next 
 three or four mile of wilderness. Where was the 
 center? Oh, there wa n t any. There was a school- 
 house and a meetin -house, and a blacksmith s, and 
 such, on the main road up a piece, that was all. 
 
 "But where do the Injuns live?" I wanted to 
 know. The knittin women, the Lamp Mat 
 Trust where does it she they, I mean, 
 live?" 
 
 He couldn t seem to make much out of this; and 
 by and by he went into the house and fetched out his 
 wife. She was about as black as he was; and I 
 cal lated they was a Portygee family; but, no, lo and 
 behold you, it turned out they was Injuns themselves ! 
 But they never heard of anybody named Rose, nor 
 of anybody that knit centerpieces, nor of an " an 
 tique," nor anything. I give it up pretty soon, for 
 
 169
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 my temper was beginnin to heat up the surroundin 
 air, and the mosquitoes seemed to think I was " Old 
 Home Week," and come for miles around and 
 brought their relations. I give up and drove away 
 over a fairly decent road this time, till I found an 
 other house. But this was just the same; Injuns in 
 plenty most everybody was part Injun but no 
 body had heard of our special Mohican nor of an 
 " antique." And, which was queerer still, they 
 never heard of anybody around that done knittin 
 or crochetin or lace makin , or had sold any, if they 
 did do it. And they didn t any of em talk story 
 book Injun dialect, same as Uncas did. They used 
 pretty fair United States. 
 
 Well, to bile this yarn of mine down, I rode 
 through those woods and around the settlement 
 most of that afternoon. Then I was ready to give 
 up, and so was my old livery-stable horse. He d 
 gone dead lame, and twould have been a sin and a 
 shame to make him walk a step farther. I took 
 him to the blacksmith s shop, and left him there. I 
 pounded mosquitoes, and asked the blacksmith some 
 questions, and he pounded iron and wanted to ask 
 me a million; but neither of us got a heap of satis 
 faction out of the duet. 
 
 Two things seemed to be sure and sartin. One 
 was that Solomon Uncas Rose, the " child of the 
 forest " and chief of the tattin tribe, was mistook 
 
 170
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 when he give Wampaquoit as his home town; and 
 t other that, much as I wanted to, I couldn t get 
 out of that town until evenin . My horse wa n t fit 
 to travel, and I couldn t hire another, not until after 
 the blacksmith had had his supper. Then he d 
 hitch up and drive me back to the Narrows. 
 
 But luck was with me for once. Up the road 
 came bumpin a nice-lookin mare and runabout 
 wagon, with a pleasant-faced, gray-haired man on 
 the seat. The mare pulled up at the blacksmith s 
 house, and the man got down and went inside. 
 
 "Who s that?" says I. "And what s he done 
 to be sentenced to this place? " 
 
 " Doctor," says the blacksmith, with a grunt 
 he was one-quarter Injun, too. " Comes from West 
 Ostable. My wife s sick." 
 
 " I sympathize with her," says I. " I m sick, 
 too homesick. Maybe this doctor ll help me 
 out. What I need is a change of scene; and I need 
 it bad." 
 
 So, when the doctor come out of the house, I 
 hailed him, and asked him if he d do a kindness to a 
 shipwrecked mariner stranded on a lee shore. 
 
 "Why, what s the matter?" says he, laughin . 
 
 " Matter enough," I told him. " I want to go 
 home. Besides, a merciful man is merciful to the 
 beasts; and if I stay here much longer these mos- 
 quitoes ll die of rush of my blood to their heads. 
 
 171
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 I understand you come from West Ostable, Doctor: 
 but if twas Jericho twould be all the same. I 
 want you to let me ride there with you. And you 
 can charge anything you want to." 
 
 That doctor was a fine feller. He laughed some 
 more, and told me to jump right in. Said he d got 
 to see one more patient on his way back; but, if I 
 didn t mind that stop, he d be glad of my company. 
 So I told the blacksmith to keep my horse and buggy 
 overnight, and when I got to West Ostable I d 
 telephone for the livery folks to send for em. 
 Then I got into the doctor s runabout, and off we 
 drove. 
 
 We did consider ble talkin durin the drive; but 
 twas all general, and nothin definite on my part. 
 Course, he was curious to know what I was doin 
 way over there; but I said I come on business, and 
 let it go at that. I was beginnin to have some 
 suspicions, and I cal lated not to be laughed at if I 
 could help it. So we drove and drove; and, by and 
 by, when I judged we must be pretty nigh to West 
 Ostable, he turned the horse into a side road, and 
 brought him to anchor alongside of an old ram 
 shackle house, with a tumble-down barn and out- 
 buildin s astern of it. 
 
 " Now, Cap n," he says, " I ll have to ask you to 
 wait a few minutes while I see that last patient of 
 mine. Twon t take long." 
 
 172
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 "Patient?" says I. "Good land! Does any 
 body live in this fag end of nothin ness? " 
 
 " Yes," says he. " Twas empty for years, but 
 now a couple of fellers live here all by themselves. 
 Foreigners of some kind they are. Been here for 
 a month or more. One of em let a packin case 
 fall on his foot, and " 
 
 " I sympathize with him," says I. " The same 
 thing happened to me a spell ago. But a packin 
 case ! Cranberry crate, you mean, I guess." 
 
 " Maybe so," he says. " I didn t ask. But 
 twas somethin heavy, anyhow. Nobody seems to 
 know much about these chaps or what they do. 
 Well, be as comfort ble as you can. I ll be back 
 soon." 
 
 He took his medicine satchel and went into the 
 house. Soon s he was out of sight, I climbed out 
 of the buggy and started explorin . I was curious. 
 
 I wandered around back of the house. Such a 
 slapjack place you never see in your life ! Windows 
 plugged with papers and old rags, shingles off the 
 roof, chimneys shy of bricks twas a miracle it 
 didn t blow down long ago. Whoever the tenants 
 was, they was only temporary, I judged, and willin 
 to take chances. 
 
 From somewheres out in the barn I heard a 
 scratchin kind of noise, and I headed for there. 
 The big door was open a little ways, and I squeezed
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 through. Twas pretty dark, and I couldn t see 
 much for a minute; but soon as my eyes got used to 
 the gloominess, I saw lots of things. That barn 
 was half filled with boxes and crates, some empty 
 and some not. There was a horse in the stall 
 an old white horse and standin in the middle of 
 the floor was a wagon heaped with things, and cov 
 ered with a piece of tarpaulin. I lifted the tarpau 
 lin. Underneath it was a spinnin wheel, an old- 
 fashioned table, two chairs, and a basket. There 
 was embroidery and fancywork in the basket. 
 
 Then I took a few soundin s among the full 
 boxes and crates standin round. I didn t do much 
 of this, cause the scratchin noise kept up in a room 
 at the back of the barn, and I wa n t anxious to dis 
 turb the scratcher, whoever he was. But I saw a 
 plenty. There was enough bran-new " antiques " 
 and " genuine " Injun knittin work in them crates 
 and boxes to stock the " Colonial Exchange " for 
 six weeks, even with better trade than we d had. 
 
 I d seen all I wanted to in that room, so I tip 
 toed into the other. A feller was in there, standin 
 back to me, and hard at work. He was sandpa- 
 perin the polish off a mahogany sewin table; the 
 kind Mrs. Burke Smythe called a " find," and had 
 in her best front parlor as an example of what our 
 great-granddads used to make, and we wa n t capa 
 ble of in these cheap and shoddy days. There was
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 another " find " on the floor side of him, a chair 
 layin on its side. Pasted on the under side of the 
 seat was a paper label with " Grand Rivers Furni 
 ture Manufacturing Company " printed on it. I 
 judged that the hand of Time hadn t got to work 
 on that chair yet, but it would as soon as it had an 
 tiqued the table. 
 
 I watched the mellowin influence gettin in its 
 licks much as twenty year passed over that table 
 in the three minutes I stood there and then I 
 spoke. 
 
 " Hello, shipmate ! " says I. " You re busy, 
 ain t you? " 
 
 He jumped as if I d stuck a sail needle in him, 
 the table tipped over with a bang, and he swung 
 around and faced me. And I m blessed if he wa n t 
 that Armenian critter; the one that the clerk had 
 talked to the " last survivor of the peddlin 
 
 crew." 
 
 I was expectin most anything to happen, and I 
 was kind of hopin it would. My fists sort of shut 
 of themselves. But it didn t happen. I knew the 
 feller; but, as luck would have it, he didn t recog 
 nize me. He swallered hard a couple of times, and 
 then he says, pretty average ugly: 
 
 "Vat d ye want?" 
 
 " Oh, nothin ," says I. " I just drove over with 
 the doctor, and I cruised round the premises a little, 
 
 175
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 that s all. You must do a good business here. 
 Make this stuff yourself? " 
 
 " No," he snapped. 
 
 I could see that he was dyin to chuck me out, and 
 didn t dast to. I picked up the chair and looked at 
 it. 
 
 " Humph ! " I says. " Grand Rivers Company, 
 hey? Buy of them, do you?" 
 
 " Yes," says he. 
 
 "And this?" I took a centerpiece out of one 
 of the boxes. " This come from Grand Rivers, 
 too?" 
 
 " No," says he. " Boston. Is dere anything 
 else you vant to know? " 
 
 "Guess not. You the sick man?" 
 
 "No; mine brudder." 
 
 " Your brother, hey? Let s see. I wonder if I 
 don t know him. Kind of tall and thin, ain t he? " 
 
 He sniffed contemptuous. 
 
 " No," says he, " he s short and fat." 
 
 " Beg your pardon," says I, " guess I was mis 
 took. Well, I must be gettin back to the buggy; 
 the doctor s prob ly waitin for me. Good day, mis 
 ter." 
 
 He never said good-by; but I saw him watchin 
 me all the way to the gate. I climbed into the 
 buggy, and set there till he went back into the barn; 
 then I got down and hurried to the front of the 
 
 176
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 house. The door wa n t fastened, and I went in. 
 I met the doctor in the hall. He was some sur 
 prised to see me there. 
 
 "Hello, Doc!" says I. "Where s your pa 
 tient?" 
 
 " In there," says he, pointin to the door astern 
 of him. "But" 
 
 " How s he gettin along? " I wanted to know. 
 
 " Why, he s better," he says. " He s practically 
 all right. I wanted him to get up and walk, but he 
 wouldn t." 
 
 "Wouldn t, hey?" says I. "Humph! Well, 
 maybe he wouldn t walk for you; but I ll bet / can 
 make him fly." 
 
 Before he could stop me, I flung that door open 
 and walked into that room. The sufferer from 
 fallin packin boxes was settin in one chair with 
 his foot in another. I drew off, and slapped him 
 on the shoulder hard as I could. 
 
 " Hello, Sol Uncas Mohicans 1 " I sung out. 
 " How s genuine antique lamp mats these days? " 
 
 For about two seconds he just set there and 
 looked at me, set and glared, with his mouth open. 
 Then he let out a scream like a scared woman, 
 jumped out of that chair, and made for the kitchen 
 door, lame foot and all. I headed him off, and he 
 turned and set sail for the one I d come in at. He 
 reached the front hall just ahead of me; but my 
 
 177
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 boot caught him at the top step and helped him 
 some. He never stopped at the gate, but went 
 head-first into the woods whoopin anthems. 
 
 The sandpaperin chap came runnin out of the 
 barn, and I took after him; but he didn t wait to see 
 what I had to say. He dove for the woods on his 
 side. We had the premises to ourselves, and I went 
 back and picked up the doctor, who d been upset 
 by the " child of the forest " on his way to the an 
 cestral tall timber. 
 
 " What what what? " gasps the medical 
 man. " For Heaven sakes ! Why, he wouldn t try 
 to walk when I asked him to. How did you do 
 that?" 
 
 " Easy enough," says I. " Twas an old-fash 
 ioned treatment, but it helps in some cases. Just 
 layin on of hands, that s all. Now, Doc, afore you 
 ask another question, let me ask you one. Ain t 
 that critter s name Rose?" 
 
 He was consider ble shook, but he managed to 
 grin a little. 
 
 " No," says he, " but you ve guessed pretty near 
 it." 
 
 Then he told me what the name was. 
 
 I rode back to West Ostable with that doctor and 
 took the evenin train home. Jim Henry was 
 waitin for me on the store platform when I got out 
 of the depot wagon. 
 
 178
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 "Well?" he wanted to know. "Did you find 
 him?" 
 
 " Humph! " says I. " I did find the lost tribes, 
 a couple of members of em, anyway." 
 
 " What do you mean by that? " says he. 
 
 " Come somewheres where tain t so public and I ll 
 tell you." 
 
 So we went back into the back room and I told 
 him my yarn. He listened, with his mouth open, 
 gettin madder and madder all the time. 
 
 " Now," says I, endin up, " the way I look at it 
 is this. I ve been thinkin it out on the cars and I 
 cal late we ll have to do this way. We ain t crooks 
 that is, we didn t mean to be and now we 
 know all our antiques are frauds and our Injun 
 curios made up to Boston, we must either shut up 
 the Exchange or go back to home products. 
 We ll have to keep mum about those we have sold, 
 because most of em have been carted out of town 
 and we don t know where to locate the buyers. 
 But, for my part, bein average honest and meanin 
 to be square, I feel mighty bad. What do you 
 say?" 
 
 He said enough. He felt as bad as I did about 
 stickin our customers, but what seemed to cut him 
 the most was that somebody had got ahead of him in 
 business. 
 
 Think of it ! " says he. " Skipper, we re gold- 
 179
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 bricked! Cheated! Faked! Done! Think of it! 
 If I could only get my hands on that " 
 
 " Hold on a minute," says I. " Better think the 
 whole of it while you re about it. We set out to 
 drive those peddlers out of what was their trade. 
 If they was smart enough to turn the tables and 
 make a good profit out of sellin us the stuff, I don t 
 know as I blame em much. It was just tit for tat 
 or so it seems to me now that I ve cooled off." 
 
 " Maybe so," says he; " but it hurts my pride just 
 the same. James Henry Jacobs, doctor of sick 
 businesses, beat by a couple of peddlers from Ar 
 menia ! " 
 
 " Hold on again," I says. " I ain t told you 
 their real name yet." 
 
 Their name?" he says. "I know it already. 
 It s Rose." 
 
 " Not accordin to that West Ostable doctor, it 
 ain t. The name they give him was Rosenstein." 
 
 He looked at me for a spell without speakin . 
 Then he smiled, heaved a long breath, and reached 
 over and shook my hand. 
 
 "Whew!" says he. "Skipper, I feel better. 
 Richard s himself again. To be beat in a business 
 deal by Roses is one thing but by Rosensteins is 
 another. You can t beat the Rosensteins in busi 
 ness." 
 
 " Not in the secondhand and by-productin busi- 
 180
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 ness you can t," says I. Them lines belong to 
 em. We hadn t any right to butt in." 
 
 And we both laughed, good and hearty. 
 
 " But," says I, after a little, " what ll we do with 
 that curio room, anyway? Give it up? " 
 
 " Not much ! " says he, emphatic. " I guess 
 we ll have to give up the antiques; but we ve got the 
 winter ahead of us, Skipper, and the Ostable County 
 embroidery crop flourishes best in cold weather. 
 We ll start the old ladies knittin again and have a 
 fairly good-sized stock when the autos commence 
 runnin once more. Give up the Colonial Pilgrim 
 Mothers ? I should say not ! " 
 
 " All right," I says, dubious. You may be 
 right, Jim; you generally are. But I m a little 
 scary of this by-product game. It ll get us into se 
 rious trouble, -I m afraid, some day. It s easier to 
 steer one big craft, than tis to maneuver a fleet of 
 little ones." 
 
 He sniffed, scornful. " As I understand it, 
 Cap n Zeb," he says, " this business of yours was in 
 a pretty feeble condition when you called me in. to 
 prescribe." 
 
 " No doubt of that, Jim, but " 
 
 " Yes. And it s a healthy, growin child now." 
 
 " Yes. It sartin is." 
 
 Then, if I was you, I d take my medicine and 
 be thankful. Time enough to complain when you 
 
 181
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 commence to go into another decline. Ain t that 
 so?" 
 
 I didn t answer. 
 
 " Isn t it so? " he asked again. 
 
 " Maybe," I said; " but it may be a fatal disease 
 next time; and it s better to keep well than to be 
 cured and a lot cheaper." 
 
 He said I was a reg lar bullfrog for croakin , 
 and hinted that I was in the back row of the primer 
 class so fur s business instinct went. I had a feelin 
 that he was right, but I had another feelin that / 
 was right, too. However, there was nothin to do 
 but keep quiet and wait the next development. 
 Afore Christmas the development landed with both 
 feet. 
 
 I d heard the news twice already that mornin . 
 Fust at the Poquit House breakfast table, where 
 twas served along with the chopped hay cereal and 
 warmed over and picked to pieces, as you might 
 say, all through the b iled eggs and spider-bread, 
 plumb down to the doughnuts and imitation coffee. 
 Then I d no sooner got outdoor than Solon Saunders 
 sighted me, and he bout ship and beat acrost the 
 road like a porgie-boat bearin down on a school of 
 fish. He was so excited that he couldn t wait to 
 get alongside, but commenced heavin overboard his 
 cargo of information while he was in mid-channel. 
 
 " Did you hear about the Higgins Place bein 
 182
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 rented, Cap n Snow?" he sung out. "It s been 
 took for next summer and " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I heard it," says I. " Fine season 
 able weather we re havin these days. Don t see 
 any signs of snow yet, do you? " 
 
 If he d been skipper of a pleasure boat with a 
 picnic party aboard he couldn t have paid less at 
 tention to my weather signals. 
 
 " It s been hired for an eatin -house," he says, 
 puffin and out of breath. " A man by the name of 
 Fred from Buffalo, has hired it, and " 
 
 " Fred, hey ? " I interrupted. " Humph ! Cord- 
 in to the proclamations / heard he cruises under the 
 name of George Eben George and he hails 
 from Bangor." 
 
 " No, no ! " he says, emphatic. " His name s 
 Edgar Fred and it s Buffalo he comes from. Henry 
 Williams told me and he got it from his wife s aunt, 
 Mrs. Debby Baker, and her cousin by marriage told 
 her. She is a Knowles the cousin is married 
 one of the Denboro Knowleses and she got it 
 from Peleg Kendrick s nephew whose stepmother 
 is related to the woman that used to do old Judge 
 Higgins s cookin when he was alive. So it come 
 straight, you see." 
 
 Yes," I says, " about as straight as the eel went 
 through the snarled fish net. All right. I don t 
 care. How s your rheumatiz gettin on, Solon?" 
 
 183
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 I thought that would fetch him, but it didn t. 
 Gen rally speakin , he d talk for an hour about his 
 rheumatiz and never skip an ache; but now he was 
 too much interested in the Higgins Place even to 
 catalogue his symptoms. 
 
 " It s some better," he says, " since I tried the 
 Electric Ointment out of the newspaper. But, 
 Cap n Zeb, did you know that this Fred man was 
 goin to start a swell dinin -room for automobile 
 folks? He is. He s had all kinds of experience in 
 them lines. He s goin to have foreign help and 
 a chief Frenchman to do the cookin and and I 
 don t know what all." 
 
 " I guess that s right," says I. " Well, I don t 
 know what all, either, and I ain t goin to worry. 
 We ll see what we shall see, as the blind feller said. 
 Hello ! there s the minister over there and I ll bet he 
 ain t heard a word about it." 
 
 That done the trick. Away he put, all sail set, to 
 give the minister the earache, and I went on down 
 to the store. And there was Jacobs talkin to a 
 man I d never seen afore and both of em so inter 
 ested they scarcely noticed me when I come in. 
 
 He was a kind of ordinary-lookin feller at fust 
 sight, the stranger was, sort of a cross between a 
 parson and a circus agent, judgin by his get-up. 
 Pretty thin, with black hair and a black beard, and 
 dressed all in black except his vest, which was thun- 
 
 184
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 der-storm plaid. I d have cal lated he was in 
 mournin if it hadn t been for that vest. As twas he 
 looked like a hearse with a brass band aboard. Both 
 him and Jacobs was smokin cigars, the best ten- 
 centers we carried in stock. 
 
 " Mornin ," says I, passin by em. Jim Henry 
 looked up and saw me. 
 
 "Ah, Skipper," says he; "glad to see you. 
 Come here. I want to make you acquainted with 
 Mr. Edwin Frank, who is intendin to locate here 
 in Ostable. Mr. Frank, shake hands with my part 
 ner, Cap n Zebulon Snow." 
 
 We shook, the band wagon hearse and me, and I 
 felt as if I was back aboard the old Fair Breeze, 
 handlin cold fish. Jim Henry went right along ex- 
 plainin matters. 
 
 " Mr. Frank," he says, " has had a long expe 
 rience in the restaurant and hotel line and he be 
 lieves there is an openin for a first-class road-house 
 in this town. He has leased the " 
 
 Then I understood. " Why, yes, yes ! " I inter 
 rupted. " I know now. You re Mr. Eben Edgar 
 Fred George from Buffalo and Bangor, ain t you? " 
 
 Then they didn t understand. When I explained 
 about the boardin -house talk and Solon Saunders 
 " straight " news, Jacobs laughed fit to kill and even 
 Mr. Fred George Frank pumped up a smile. But 
 his pumps was out of gear, or somethin , for the 
 
 185
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 smile looked more like a crack in an ice chest than 
 anything human. However, he said he was glad 
 to see me and I strained the truth enough to say I 
 was glad to meet him. 
 
 " So you ve hired the Higgins Place, Mr. Frank," 
 I went on. " Well, well ! And you re goin to 
 make a hotel of it. If old Judge Higgins don t turn 
 over in his grave at that, he s fast moored, that s 
 all." 
 
 I meant what I said, almost. Judge Higgins, in 
 his day, had been one of the big-bugs of the town 
 and his place on the hill was one of the best on the 
 main road. It set way back from the street and 
 the view from under the two big silver-leaf trees by 
 the front door took in all creation and part of Os- 
 table Neck, as the sayin is. The Judge had been 
 dead most eight year now, and, bein a three times 
 widower without chick nor child, the estate was all 
 tied up amongst the heirs of the three wives and 
 was fast tumblin to pieces. It couldn t be sold, on 
 account of the row between the owners, but it had 
 been let once or twice to summer folks. To turn it 
 into a tavern was pretty nigh the final come-down, 
 seemed to me. 
 
 But Jim Henry Jacobs wa n t worryin about 
 come-downs. He never let dead dignity interfere 
 with live business. He didn t shed a tear over the 
 old place, or lay a wreath on Judge Higgins s tomb. 
 
 186
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 No, sir! he got down to the keelson of things 
 in a jiffy. 
 
 " Skipper," he says, sweet and plausible as a dose 
 of sugared soothin -syrup. " Skipper," he says, 
 " Mr. Frank s proposition is to open, not a hotel 
 exactly, but a first-class, up-to-date road-house and 
 restaurant. As progressive citizens of Ostable, as 
 business men, wide-awake to the town s welfare, that 
 ought to interest you and me, on general principles, 
 hadn t it?" 
 
 I judged that this was only Genesis, and that Rev 
 elation would come later, so I nodded and said I 
 cal lated that it had on general principles. 
 
 " You bet ! " he goes on. " It does interest us. 
 Speakin personally, I ve long felt that there was a 
 place in Ostable for a dinin -room, run to bag to 
 attract, I mean the wealthy, the well-to-do tran 
 sient trade. Why, just think of it ! " he says, 
 warmin up, " it s winter now. By May or June 
 there ll be a steady string of autos runnin along this 
 road here, every one of em solid full of city people 
 and all hungry. Now, it s a shame to let those 
 good things I mean hungry gents and ladies, go 
 by without givin em what they want. If I hadn t 
 had so many things on my mind, if the Ostable 
 Store s large and growin business hadn t took my 
 attention exclusive, I should have ventured a flyer 
 in that direction myself. But never mind that; Mr. 
 
 187
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 Frank here has got ahead of me and the job s in 
 better hands. Mr. Frank is right up to the minute; 
 he s abreast of the times and he by the way, Mr. 
 Frank, perhaps you wouldn t mind tellin my part 
 ner here somethin about your plans. Just give him 
 the line of talk you ve been givin me, say." 
 
 Mr. Frank didn t mind. He had the line over 
 in a minute and if I d been cal latin that he was a 
 frosty specimen with the water in his talk-b iler 
 froze, I got rid of the notion in a hurry. He 
 smiled, polite, and begun slow and deliberate, but 
 pretty soon he was runnin twenty knots an hour. 
 He told about his experience in the eatin -house line 
 he d been everything from hotel manager to club 
 steward and about how successful he d been and 
 how big the profits was, and what his customers said 
 about him, and so on. Afore a body had a chance 
 to think this over or to digest it, long s we re 
 talkin about eatin he was under full steam 
 through Ostable with the Higgins Place loaded to 
 the guards and beatin all entries two mile to the 
 lap. He d never seen a better openin ; his expe 
 rience backed his judgment in callin it the ideal 
 location and opportunity, and the like of that. He 
 talked his throat dry and wound up, husky but 
 hurrahin , with somethin like this: 
 
 " Cap n Snow," he says, " you and Mr. Jacobs 
 must understand that I know what I m talkin about. 
 
 188
 
 ROSES BY ANOTHER NAME 
 
 This enterprise of mine will be the very highest 
 class. French chef, French waiters, all the deli 
 cacies and game in season. A country Delmonico s, 
 that s the dope ahem! I mean that is the repu 
 tation this establishment of ours will have; yes." 
 
 I judged that the " dope " had slipped out un 
 expected and that the miscue jarred him a little mite, 
 for he colored up and wiped his forehead with a red 
 and yellow bordered handkerchief. I was jarred, 
 too, but not by that. 
 
 "Establishment of ours?" I says, slow. "You 
 mean yours, of course." 
 
 He was goin to answer, but Jim Henry got ahead 
 of him. 
 
 " Sure ! of course, Skipper," he says. " That s 
 all right. There ! " he went on, gettin up and takin 
 me by the arm. " Mr. Frank s got to be trottin 
 along and we mustn t detain him. So long, Mr. 
 Frank. My partner and I will have some conver 
 sation and we ll meet again. Drop in any time. 
 Good day." 
 
 I hadn t noticed any signs of Frank s impatience 
 to trot along, but he took the hint all right and got 
 up to go. He said good-by and I was turnin away, 
 when I see Jim Henry wink at him when they 
 thought I wa n t lookin . I was suspicious afore; 
 that wink made me uneasy as a spring pullet tied to 
 the choppin -block. 
 
 189
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE SIGN OF THE WINDMILL 
 
 EBEN GEORGE EDGAR EDWIN DEL- 
 MONICO FRANK went out, dabbin at his 
 forehead with the red and yellow handker 
 chief. Jacobs kept his clove hitch on my arm and 
 led me out to the settee on the front platform. 
 
 " Set down, Skipper," he says, cheerful and 
 more n extra friendly, seemed to me. " Set down," 
 he says, " and enjoy the December ozone." 
 
 We come to anchor on the settee and there we 
 set and shivered for much as five minutes, each of 
 us waitin for the other to begin. Finally Jim 
 Henry says, without lookin at me : 
 
 ; Well, Skipper," he says, " that chap s sharp all 
 right, ain t he?" 
 
 " Seems to be," says I, not too enthusiastic. 
 
 Yes, he is. If I m any judge of human nature 
 and I hand myself that bouquet any day in the 
 week he knows his business. Don t you think 
 so?" 
 
 " Maybe," I says. " But what business of ours 
 his business is I don t see yet. If you do, bein 
 
 190
 
 THE SIGN OF THE WINDMILL 
 
 as you and me are supposed to be partners, perhaps 
 you wouldn t mind soundin the fog whistle for my 
 benefit. I seem to have lost my reckonin on this 
 v yage. Why should we be interested in this Frank 
 man and his eatin -house? " 
 
 He laughed, louder n was necessary, I thought, and 
 slapped me on the shoulder. 
 
 " You don t see where we come in, hey? " he says. 
 " Well, I do. A dinin -room like that one of his 
 will need a good many supplies, won t it? And, if 
 I can mesmerize him into patronizin the home 
 market, the Ostable Grocery, Dry Goods, Boots and 
 Shoes and Fancy Goods Emporium will gain some, 
 I shouldn t wonder. Hey, pard! How about 
 that? " And he slapped my shoulder again. 
 
 I turned this over in my mind.* "Humph!" I 
 says. " I begin to see." 
 
 You bet you do I " he says, laughin . " The 
 amount of stuff I can sell that restaurant will " 
 
 But I broke in here. I remembered that wink 
 and I didn t believe I was clear of the choppin -block 
 yet. 
 
 " Hold on ! " says I. " Heave to ! And never 
 mind poundin my starboard shoulder to pieces, 
 either. I said I begun to see; I don t see clear yet. 
 How did you and he come to get together in the 
 fust place? Did you go and hunt him up? or did 
 he come in here to see you?" 
 
 191
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 He kind of hesitated. "Why," he says, "he 
 come into the store, and " 
 
 " Did he happen in, or did he come to see you 
 a-purpose? " 
 
 " He I believe he came to see me. Then he 
 and I " 
 
 "Heave to again! He didn t come to see you 
 to beg the favor of buyin goods of you, tain t 
 likely. Jim Jacobs, answer me straight. There s 
 somethin else. That feller wants somethin of you 
 or of us. Now what is it ?" 
 
 He hesitated some more. Then he upset the 
 woodpile and let out the darky. 
 
 " Well," he says, " I ll tell you. I was goin to 
 tell you, anyway. Frank s all right. He s got a 
 good idea and he s got the experience to put it into 
 practice; but he s somethin the way old Beanblossom 
 was afore you took a share in this store he needs 
 a little more capital." 
 
 I swung round on the settee and looked him square 
 in the eye. 
 
 "I see," I says, slow. " Now I see ! He s 
 after money and he wants us to lend it to him. I 
 might have guessed it. Well, did you say no right 
 off? or was you waitin to have me say it? You 
 might have said it yourself. You knew I d back 
 you up." 
 
 Would you believe it? he got as red as a beet. 
 192
 
 THE SIGN OF THE WINDMILL 
 
 " I didn t say anything," he says. " Don t go off 
 half-cocked like that. What s the matter with you 
 this mornin ? He don t want to borrer money. He 
 wants more capital in the proposition wants to 
 float it right. And he s been inquirin around and 
 has found that you and me are the two leadin busi 
 ness men in the place and has come to us first. It s 
 more a favor on his part than anything else. He 
 offers to let us have a third interest between us; you 
 put in a thousand and I do the same. Why, man, 
 it s a cinch ! It s a chance that don t come every day. 
 As I told you, I ve had the same notion in my head 
 for a long time. A summer dinin -room like that in 
 this town is " 
 
 "Wait!" I interrupted. "What do you know 
 about this Frank critter? Where d he come from? 
 Who is he?" 
 
 " He comes from Pittsburg. That s the last place 
 he was in. And he s got his pockets full of refer 
 ences and testimonials." 
 
 " Humph ! Anybody can get testimonials. 
 Write em himself, if there wa n t any other way. 
 I had a second mate once with more testimonials 
 than shirts, enough sight, and he " 
 
 " Oh, cut it out ! Besides, I don t care where he 
 comes from. He s sharp as a steel trap; that much 
 I can tell with one eye shut. And he s run dinin - 
 rooms and hotels; that I ll bet my hat on. That s 
 
 193
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 all we need to know. A road-house in this town is a 
 twenty per cent, proposition durin the summer 
 months. It s the chance of a lifetime, I tell you." 
 
 " Maybe so. But how do you know the feller s 
 honest? " 
 
 " I don t care whether he s honest or not. It 
 doesn t make any difference. If I wa n t here to 
 keep my eye peeled, : t might be; but I ll be here 
 and if he gets ahead of me, he ll be movin to some 
 extent. Someone else ll grab the chance if we don t. 
 I m for it. What do you say? " 
 
 I shook my head. " Jim," says I, " I can see 
 where you stand. You re so dead sartin that an 
 eatin -house of that kind ll pay big, that you re blind 
 to the rest of it. Now I don t pretend to be a judge 
 of human nature like you leavin out Injun and 
 Rosenstein human nature, of course nor a doctor 
 of sick businesses, which is your profession. But my 
 experience is " 
 
 He stood up and sniffed impatient. 
 
 " Cut it out, I tell you ! " he says, again. " This 
 ain t an experience meetin . Will you take a flyer 
 with me in that road-house, or won t you? " 
 
 " Way I feel now, I won t," says I, prompt. 
 
 He turned on his heel, took a step towards the 
 door and then stopped. 
 
 " Well," he says, " you think it over till to-morrer 
 inornin and then let me know. Only, you mark my 
 
 194
 
 THE SIGN OF THE WINDMILL 
 
 words, it s a chance. And, with me to keep my eye- 
 on it, there s no risk at all." 
 
 So that s the way it ended that day. And half 
 that night I laid awake, feelin meaner n dirt to say no 
 to as good a partner as I had, and yet pretty average 
 sure I was right, just the same. 
 
 In the mornin my mind was still betwixt and be 
 tween. I went down to the store and walked back 
 to the post-office department. I looked in through 
 the little window and saw Mary Blaisdell inside, 
 sortin the outgoin letters. The sunshine, streamin 
 in from outside, lit up her hair till it looked like one 
 of them halos in a church picture. Seems to me I 
 never saw her look prettier; but then, every time I 
 saw her I thought the same thing. A good-lookin 
 woman and a good woman yes, and capable. 
 That she d lived so many years without gettin mar 
 ried, was one of the things that made a feller lose 
 confidence in the good-sense of humans. The chap 
 that got her would be lucky. Then I caught a 
 glimpse of myself in the lookin -glass where cus 
 tomers tried on hats, and decided I d better stop 
 thinkin foolishness or somebody would catch me at 
 it and send me to the comic papers. 
 
 " Mornin , Mary," says I. " Has Mr. Jacobs 
 come aboard yet? " 
 
 She turned and came to her side of the window. 
 
 " Yes," she says, " he was here. He s gone out 
 
 195
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 now with that Mr. Frank. I believe they ve gone 
 up to the old Higgins Place." 
 
 " Um-hm," says I. " Well, Mary, just between 
 friends, I d like to ask you somethin . Do you like 
 that Frank man s looks? " 
 
 She wa n t expectin that and she didn t know how 
 to answer for a jiffy. Then she kind of half laughed, 
 and says : " No, Cap n Zeb, since you ask me, I I 
 don t. I don t like him. And I haven t any good 
 reason, either." 
 
 I nodded. " Much obliged, Mary," says I. 
 " And, since you ain t asked me, I ll tell you that / 
 don t like him. And my reason s about as good as 
 yours. Maybe it s his clothes. A man, cordin* 
 to my notion, has a right to look like a horse jockey, 
 if he wants to; and he s got a right to look like an 
 undertaker. But when he looks like a combination 
 of the two, I well, I get skittish and begin to shy, 
 that s all. It s too much as if he was baited to trap 
 you dead or alive." 
 
 Then Jim Henry come in and when, an hour or 
 so later, he got me one side and asked me if I d 
 made up my mind about investin in Frank s road- 
 house, I answered prompt that my mind was made up 
 and the answer was still no. He was disapp inted, 
 I could see that, and pretty mad. 
 
 " Humph ! " says he. " Skipper, you re all right 
 except for one fault you re as country as they 
 
 196
 
 THE SIGN OF THE WINDMILL 
 
 make em, and they make em pretty narrer some 
 times. Well, you ve had the chance. Don t ever 
 tell me you haven t." 
 
 " I won t," says I, and we didn t mention the sub 
 ject for a long time. Then but that comes later. 
 However, I judged that Frank had found folks in 
 Ostable who wa n t as narrer and " country " as I 
 was, for, inside of a week, the carpenters was busy 
 on the Higgins Place. They built on great, wide 
 piazzas; they knocked out partitions between rooms; 
 they made the house pretty much over. In March 
 loads of fancy furniture came from Boston. At 
 last a windmill three feet high made to look like 
 a little copy of the old Cape windmills our great- 
 granddads used to grind grist in, with sails that 
 turned was set up in the front yard, and on a 
 post by the big gate was swingin a fancy notice 
 board, with a gilt windmill painted on that, and the 
 words in big letters: 
 
 THE SIGN OF THE WINDMILL. 
 
 MEALS AT ALL HOURS. 
 
 STEAKS, CHOPS, GAME, ETC. 
 TABLE D HOTE DINNER EACH DAY AT 1.15, 
 
 Special Accommodations for Auto Parties. 
 197
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 That was it, you see. " The Sign of the Wind 
 mill " was the name of the new road-house. 
 
 But that wa n t all the advertising by a consid- 
 er ble sight. There was signs all up and down the 
 main roads, with hands p intin in the " Windmill " 
 direction. And there was ads in the Cape papers 
 and in the Boston papers, too. I swan, I didn t 
 believe anybody but Jim Henry Jacobs could have 
 engineered such advertisin ! And there was a 
 black-lookin critter with the ends of his mustache 
 waxed so sharp you could have sewed canvas with 
 em he was the French chef and three foreign 
 waiters, and a dark-complected fleshy woman who 
 seemed to be a sort of general assistant manager and 
 stewardess, and and goodness knows what 
 there wa n t. There was so many kinds of hired 
 help that I couldn t see where Frank himself come 
 in unless he was the spare "windmill," which, 
 judgin by his gift of gab, I cal late might be the 
 fact. 
 
 The Sign of the Windmill " bought all its gro 
 ceries and general supplies at the store, which, con- 
 siderin that we d turned down the " chance " to be 
 part owners, seemed sort of odd to me, cause Frank 
 didn t look like a feller who d forgive a slight like 
 that. But I judged Jim Henry had hypnotized him, 
 as he done other difficult customers, and so I said 
 nothin . The auto season opened and our weekly 
 
 198
 
 THE SIGN OF THE WINDMILL 
 
 bills with that road-house was big ones, but they was 
 paid every week, and I hadn t any kick there, 
 either. 
 
 As for the business that dinin -room done, it was 
 surprising particularly Saturdays and Sundays, when 
 there d be twenty or more autos in the front yard 
 and more a-comin . The table d hote dinner at 1.15 
 was so well patronized that folks had to wait their 
 turns at table and later, on moonlight nights, the old 
 house was all lighted up and you could hear the noise 
 of dishes rattlin and the laughin and singin till 
 after eleven o clock. And our bills with the " Sign 
 of the Windmill " kept gettin bigger and bigger. 
 
 But though the auto parties was thick and the 
 patronage good, still there was some dissatisfaction, 
 I found out. One big car stopped at the store on a 
 Saturday afternoon and the boss of it talked with 
 me while the women folks was inside buyin post 
 cards and such. 
 
 " Well," says I, to the owner of the car, a big, 
 fleshy, good-natured chap he was, " well," says I, 
 " I cal late you ve all had a good dinner. Feed you 
 fust-class up there at the Windmill place, don t 
 they?" 
 
 He sniffed. " Humph ! " says he, " the food s 
 all right. It ought to be, at the price. Is the pro 
 prietor of that hotel named Allie Baby? " 
 
 "Allie which?" I says, laughin . "No, no, his 
 199
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 name s Frank. Edwin George Eben etcetery Frank. 
 What made you think twas Allie? " 
 
 " Cause he s a close connection of the Forty 
 Thieves," he says, sharp. " He d take a prize in 
 the hog class at a county fair, that chap would. 
 What s the matter with him? Does he think he s 
 runnin a get-rich-quick shop? Two weeks ago I 
 paid a dollar and a half for a dinner there, and that 
 was seventy-five cents too much. Now he s jumped 
 to two-fifty and the feed ain t a bit better." 
 
 "Two dollars and a half for a dinner!" says I. 
 "Whew! The cost of livin is goin up, ain t it? 
 What do they give you ? Canary birds tongues on 
 toast? Any shore dinner ever I see could be cooked 
 for" 
 
 He interrupted. " Shore dinner nothin ! " he 
 snorts. " I wouldn t kick at the price if I got a good 
 shore dinner. But what we got here is a poor imi 
 tation of a country Waldorf. Everybody s kickin , 
 but we all go there because it s the best we can find 
 for twenty miles. However, I hear another place 
 is to be started in Denboro and if that makes good, 
 your Forty Thief friend will have to haul in his 
 horns. He ll never get another cent from me, or a 
 hundred others I know, who have been his best cus 
 tomers. We re all waitin to give him the shake 
 and it looks as if we should be able to do it. We 
 motorin fellers stick together and, if the word s 
 
 200
 
 THE SIGN OF THE WINDMILL 
 
 passed along the line, the " Sign of the Windmill " 
 will be a dead one, mark my words." 
 
 I marked em, and when, by and by, I heard that 
 the Denboro dinin -room was open and doin a good 
 business, I underscored the mark. 
 
 This was about the middle of June. A week 
 later Jim Henry got the telegram about his younger 
 brother out in Colorado bein sick and wantin to see 
 him bad. He hated to go, but he felt he had to, 
 so he went. 
 
 I said good-by to him up at the depot and told him 
 not to worry a mite. " I ll look out for everything," 
 I says. " Course I ll miss you at the store, but 
 I ll write you every day or so and keep you posted, 
 and you can give me business prescriptions by 
 mail." 
 
 " That s all right, Skipper," says he, " I know the 
 store ll be took care of. But there s one thing that 
 that" 
 
 " What s the one thing? " I asked. " Overboard 
 with it. My shoulders are broad and I won t mind 
 totin another hogshead or so." 
 
 He hesitated and it seemed to me that he looked 
 troubled. But finally he said he d guessed twas 
 nothin that amounted to nothin anyway and he d 
 be back in a couple of weeks sure. So off he went 
 and I had a sort of Robinson Crusoe desert island 
 feelin that lasted all that day and night. 
 
 201
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 It lasted longer than that, too. I didn t hear 
 from him for ten days. Then I got a note sayin 
 his brother had scarlet fever which seemed a fool 
 disease for a grown-up man to have and was pretty 
 sick. I wrote to him for the land sakes to be careful 
 he didn t get it himself, and the next news I heard 
 was from a doctor sayin he had got it. After that 
 the bulletins was infrequent and alarmin . 
 
 I d have put for Colorado in a minute, but I 
 couldn t; that store was on my shoulders and I 
 couldn t leave. I telegraphed not to spare no 
 expense and to write or wire every day. Twas all 
 I could do, but I never spent such a worried time 
 afore nor since. I was worried, not only about my 
 partner, but about the business he d put in my charge. 
 There was new developments in that business and 
 they kept on developin . 
 
 Twas the " Sign of the Windmill " that was trou- 
 blin me. As I told you, the weekly bills for that 
 eatin -house was big ones, but the fust three or four 
 had been paid on the dot. Now, however, they 
 wa n t paid and they was just as big. Frank s 
 account on our books kept gettin larger and larger 
 and, not only that, but anybody could see that the 
 Windmill wa n t doin half the trade it begun with. 
 There was more auto parties than ever, but the heft 
 of em went right on by to the new road-house in 
 Denboro. I remembered what the fleshy man told 
 
 202
 
 THE SIGN OF THE WINDMILL 
 
 me and I judged that the word had been passed to 
 the motorin crew, just as he prophesied. 
 
 I went up to see Frank and had a talk with him. 
 I found him in his office, settin at a fine new roll-top 
 desk, with the dark-complected stewardess alongside 
 of him. She seemed to be helpin him with his let 
 ters and accounts, which looked odd to me, and she 
 glowered at me when I come in like a cat at a stray 
 poodle. She didn t get up and go out, neither, till 
 he hinted p raps she d better, and even then she 
 whispered to him mighty confidential afore she went. 
 Twas a queer way for hired help to act, but twa n t 
 none of my affairs, of course. 
 
 He was cordial enough till he found out what I 
 was after and then he chilled up like a freezer full 
 of cream. He was in the habit of payin his bills, 
 he give me to understand, and he d pay this one when 
 twas convenient. If I didn t care to sell the Wind 
 mill goods, that was my affair, of course, but his 
 relations with my partner had been so pleasant that 
 and so forth and so on. I sneaked out of that 
 office, feelin like a henroost-thief instead of an hon 
 est man tryin to collect an honest debt. I d bungled 
 things again. Instead of makin matters better, I d 
 made em worse; come nigh losin a good customer 
 and all that. What business had an old salt herrin 
 like me to be in business, anyhow? That s how I 
 felt when I was talkin to him, and how I felt 
 
 203
 
 when I shut that office door and come out into the 
 dinin -room. 
 
 But the sight of that dinin -room, tables all vacant, 
 and two waiters where there had been four, fetched 
 all my uneasiness back again. If ever a place had 
 " Coin down " marked on it twas the " Sign of the 
 Windmill." I stewed and fretted all the way to the 
 store and when I got there I found that another big 
 order of groceries and canned goods had been deliv 
 ered to the eatin house while I was gone. 
 
 The next week ll stick in my mind till doomsday, 
 I cal late. Every blessed mornin found me vowin 
 I d stop sellin that Windmill, and every night found 
 more dollars added to the bill. You see, I didn t 
 know what to do. If I d been sole owner and sailin 
 master, I d have set my foot down, I guess; but 
 there was Jim Henry to be considered. I wrote a 
 note to the Frank man, but he didn t even trouble 
 to answer it. 
 
 Saturday noon came round and, after the mail was 
 sorted, I wandered out to the front platform and 
 set there, blue as a whetstone. The gang of sum 
 mer boarders and natives, that s always around mail 
 times, melted away fast and I was pretty nigh alone. 
 Not quite alone ; Alpheus Perkins, the fish man, was 
 occupyin moorin s at t other end of the platform 
 and he didn t seem to be in any hurry. By and by 
 over he comes and sets down alongside of me. 
 
 204
 
 THE SIGN OF THE WINDMILL 
 
 " Cap n Zeb," he says, fidgety like, " I s pose 
 likely you ve been wonderin why I don t pay your 
 bill here at the store, ain t you? " 
 
 I hadn t, havin more important things to think 
 about, but now I remembered that he did owe con- 
 sider ble and had owed it for some time. Alpheus 
 is as straight as they make em and usually pays his 
 debts prompt. 
 
 " I know you must have," he went on, not waitin 
 for me to answer. " Well, I intended to pay long 
 afore this, and I will pay pretty soon. But I ve had 
 trouble collectin my own debts and it s held me back. 
 If I could only get my hands on one account that s 
 owin me, I d be all right. Say," says he, tryin hard 
 to act careless and as if twa n t important one way 
 or t other: " Say," he says, " you know Mr. Frank, 
 up here at the hotel, pretty well, don t you ? " 
 
 For a minute or so I didn t answer. Then I 
 knocked the ashes out of my pipe and says I, " Why, 
 yes. I know him. What of it?" 
 
 " Oh, nothin much," he says. " Only I was told 
 he was a partic lar friend of yours and Mr. Jacobs s 
 and and " 
 
 "Who told you he was our partic lar friend?" 
 I asked. 
 
 " Why, he did. I was up there yesterday, just 
 hintin I could use a check on account. Not pressin 
 the matter nor tryin to be hard on him, you under- 
 
 205
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 stand; course he s all right; but I was mighty short 
 of ready cash and so " 
 
 " Hold on, Al! " I said, quick. " Wait! Does 
 the Sign of the Windmill owe you a bill? " 
 
 " Pretty nigh a hundred dollars," says he. " I ve 
 supplied em with fish and lobsters and clams and such 
 ever since they started. Fust month they paid me 
 by the week. After that " 
 
 " Good heavens and earth! " I sung out. " My 
 soul and body ! And and, when you asked for 
 it, this this Frank man told you he d pay you when 
 twas convenient, same as he paid Jacobs and me, 
 who was his friends and was quite ready to do busi 
 ness that way." 
 
 He actually jumped, I d surprised him so. 
 
 "Hey?" he sung out. " Zeb Snow, be you a 
 second-sighter? How did you know he told me 
 that?" 
 
 I drew a long breath. " It didn t take second 
 sight for that," I says. " I was up there last Mon 
 day and he told me the same thing, only twas you 
 and Ed Cahoon who was his friends then." 
 
 He let that sink in slow. 
 
 "My godfreys domino!" he groaned. "My 
 godfreys ! He he told Why ! why, he must 
 be workin the same game on all hands ! " 
 
 " Looks like it," says I, and, thinkin of Jim 
 Henry, poor feller, sick as he could be, and the busi- 
 
 206
 
 THE SIGN OF THE WINDMILL 
 
 ness he d left me to look out for, my heart went 
 down into my boots. 
 
 Perkins set thinkin for a jiffy. Then he got up 
 off the settee. 
 
 "The son of a gun!" he says. "I ll fix him! 
 I ll put my bill in a lawyer s hands to-night." 
 
 " No, you won t," I sung out, grabbin him by the 
 arm. " You mustn t. He owes the Ostable Store 
 four times what he owes you, and it s likely he owes 
 Cahoon and a lot more. The rest of us can t afford 
 to let you upset the calabash that way. You might 
 get yours, though I m pretty doubtful, but where 
 would the rest of us come in. You set down, Alpheus. 
 Set down, and let me think. Set down, I tell you ! " 
 
 When I talk that way it s an old seafarin habit 
 most folks usually obey orders. Alpheus set. 
 He started to talk, but I hushed him up and, havin 
 filled my pipe and got it to goin , I smoked and 
 thought for much as five minutes. 
 
 "Hum!" says I, after the spell was over, "the 
 way I sense it is like this: This ain t any fo mast 
 hand s job ; and it ain t a skipper s job neither. It s 
 a case for all hands and the ship s cat, workin* 
 together and standin by each other. We ve got to 
 find out who s who and what s what, make up our 
 minds and then all read the lesson in concert, like 
 young ones in school. This Frank Windmill critter 
 owes you and he owes me; we re sartin of that. 
 
 207
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 More n likely he owes Ed Gaboon for chickens and 
 fowls and eggs, and Bill Bangs for milk, and Henry 
 Hall for ice, and land knows how many more. 
 S pose you skirmish around and find out who he does 
 owe and fetch all the creditors to the store here 
 to-morrer mornin at eleven o clock. It ll be church 
 time, I know, but even the parson will excuse us for 
 this once, specially as the * Sign of the Windmill is 
 supposed to sell liquor and he s down on it." 
 
 We had consider ble more talk, but that was the 
 way it ended, finally. I went to bed that night, but 
 it didn t take; I might as well have set up, so fur s 
 sleep was concerned. All I could think of was 
 poor, sick Jim Henry and the trust he put in me. 
 
 208
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 COOKS AND CROOKS 
 
 I WAS at the store by quarter of eleven, but the 
 gang of creditors was there to meet me, seven 
 of em altogether. Cahoon, the chicken man, 
 and Bangs, the milk man, and Hall, the ice man, 
 and Alpheus, and Caleb Bearse, who d been supplyin 
 meat to that road-house, and Peleg Doane, who d 
 done carpenterin and repairs on it, and Jeremiah 
 Doane, his brother, who d painted the repaired 
 places. Seven was all the creditors Perkins could 
 scare up on short notice, though he cal lated there 
 was more. 
 
 " There s one more, anyway," says Bill Bangs. 
 " That dark-complected woman the one you call 
 the stewardess, Cap n Zeb was sick a spell ago 
 and Frank told Doctor Goodspeed he d be respon 
 sible for the bill. I see the doc this mornin and 
 he s with us. Says he may be down later." 
 
 They elected me chairman of the meetin and we 
 started deliberatin . The debts amounted to quite 
 a lot, though the Ostable Store s was the biggest. 
 Some was for doin one thing and some another, but 
 
 209
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 we all agreed we must see Colcord, the lawyer, afore 
 we did much of anything. While we was still pow- 
 wowin , somebody knocked at the door. Twas 
 Doctor Goodspeed, on the way to see a patient. 
 
 " Well," says he, " how s the consultation comin* 
 on? Judgin by your faces, I should imagine twas 
 a autopsy. Time to take desperate measures, if you 
 asked me. I never did believe that Frank chap was 
 anything but a crook, so I m not surprised. I m 
 with you in spirit, boys, though I can t stop. How 
 ever, here s a couple of pieces of information which 
 may interest you : One is that * The Sign of the 
 Windmill s account was overdrawn yesterday at the 
 bank and the bank folks sent notice. T other is that 
 Lawyer Colcord is out of town for a couple of days, 
 so you can t get him. Otherwise than that, the 
 patient is normal. By, by. Life s a giddy jag of 
 joy, isn t it? " 
 
 He grinned and shut the door with a bang. The 
 eight of us looked at each other. Then Alpheus 
 Perkins riz to his feet. 
 
 " Humph ! " says he. " Account overdrawn, 
 hey? Well, maybe that Windmill ain t made 
 enough to pay its bills, but it s been takin in con- 
 sider ble cash. If it ain t at the bank, where is it? 
 I m goin to find out. And if I can t get a lawyer 
 to help me, I ll do without one. That Frank crit 
 ter s store clothes are wuth somethin , and, if I can t 
 
 210
 
 COOKS AND CROOKS 
 
 get nothin more, I ll rip them right off his back. 
 So long, fellers. Keep your ear to the ground and 
 you ll hear somethin drop." 
 
 He headed for the door, but he didn t go alone. 
 The rest of us got there at the same time, and I 
 well, I wouldn t wonder if twas me that opened it. 
 I was desperate, and I ve commanded vessels in my 
 time. 
 
 Anyhow, twas me that led the procession up the 
 front steps of the " Sign of the Windmill " and into 
 the dinin -room. The two waiters was busy. They 
 had five of the tables set end to end and covered with 
 cloths, and they was layin plates and knives and 
 forks for a big crowd. Twas plain that special 
 customers was expected. 
 
 " Mr. Frank in his office? " says I, headin for the 
 skipper s cabin. The waiters looked at each other 
 and jabbered in some sort of foreign lingo. 
 
 " No, sare," says one of em. " No, sare. 
 Meester Frank, he is away out." 
 
 " Away out, hey? " says I. " You re wrong, son. 
 We re the ones that are out, but we ain t goin to 
 be out another cent s wuth. Come on, boys, we ll 
 find him." 
 
 You can see I was mighty mad, or I wouldn t have 
 been so reckless. I walked acrost that dinin -room 
 and flung open the office door. Frank himself wa n t 
 there, but who should be settin at his roll-top desk, 
 
 211
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 but the fleshy, dark-complected stewardess woman. 
 She glowered at me, ugly as a settin hen. 
 
 " This is a private room," she snaps. 
 
 " I know, ma am," says I; " but the business we ve 
 come on is sort of private, too. Come in, boys." 
 
 The seven of em come in and they filled that 
 office plumb full. The stewardess woman s black 
 eyes opened and then shut part way. But there was 
 fire between the lashes. 
 
 What do you mean by comin in here?" says 
 she. " And what do you want? " 
 
 The rest of the fellers looked at me, so I answered. 
 
 " Ma am," says I, " we don t want nothin of you 
 and we re sorry to trouble you. We ve come to see 
 Mr. Frank on a matter of business, important busi 
 ness that is, it s important to us." 
 
 " Mr. Frank is out," says she. " You must call 
 again. Good day." 
 
 She turned back again to the desk, but none of 
 us moved. 
 
 "Out, is he?" says I. "Well then, I cal late 
 we ll wait till he comes in." 
 
 " He is out of town. He won t be in till to- 
 morrer," she snaps. 
 
 I looked round at the rest of the crowd. Every 
 one of em nodded. 
 
 " Well, then, ma am," I says, " I cal late we ll 
 stay here and wait till to-morrer." 
 
 212
 
 COOKS AND CROOKS 
 
 That shook her. She got up from the desk and 
 turned to face us. If I m any judge of a temper 
 she had one, and she .was holdin it in by main 
 strength. 
 
 " You may tell me your business," she says. " I 
 am Mr. Frank s er secretary." 
 
 So I told her. " We ve waited for our money 
 long as we can," says I. " None of us are well-off 
 and every one of us needs what s owin him. We ve 
 called and we ve wrote. Now we re goin to stay 
 here till we re paid. Of course, ma am, I realize 
 tain t none of your affairs, and we ain t goin to 
 make you any more trouble than we can help. We ll 
 just set down on the piazza or in the dinin -room or 
 somewheres and wait for your boss, that s all." 
 
 I said that, cause I didn t want her to think we 
 had anything against her personal. I cal lated 
 twould smooth her down, but it didn t. She looked 
 as if she d like to murder us, every livin soul. 
 
 " You get out of here! " she screamed, her hands 
 openin and shuttin . " You get right out of here 
 this minute ! " 
 
 " Yes, ma am," says I, " we ll get out of your 
 office, of course. Further n that you ll have to ex 
 cuse us. We re goin to stay right in this house till 
 we see Mr. Frank." 
 
 "I ll put you out!" she sputtered. "I ll have 
 the waiters put you out." 
 
 213
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 I thought of them two puny lookin waiters and, 
 to save me, I couldn t help smilin . You d think 
 she d have seen the ridic lous side of it, too, but 
 apparently she didn t, for she bust right through 
 between Alpheus and me and rushed into the dinin - 
 room. 
 
 " Boys," says I, to the crowd, " maybe we d bet 
 ter step out of here. We may need more room." 
 
 She was in the dinin -room talkin foreign lan 
 guage in a blue streak to the waiters. They was 
 lookin scared and spreadin out their hands and 
 hunchin their shoulders. 
 
 " Ma am," says I, " if I was you I wouldn t do 
 nothin foolish. We ain t goin and we won t be 
 put out, but, on the other hand, we won t make any 
 fuss. We ll just set down here and wait for the 
 boss, that s all. Set down, boys." 
 
 So all hands come to anchor on chairs around that 
 dinin -room and grinned and looked silly but de 
 termined. The stewardess glared at us some more 
 and then rushed off upstairs. In a minute she was 
 back with her hat on. 
 
 "You wait!" says she. "You just wait! I ll 
 put you in prison ! I ll Oh " The rest of it 
 was French or Italian or something but we didn t 
 need an interpreter. She shook her fists at us and 
 run down the front steps and away up the road. 
 
 " Well, gents all," says I, " man born of woman 
 214
 
 COOKS AND CROOKS 
 
 is of few days and full of trouble. To-day we re 
 here and to-morrer we re in jail, as the sayin is. 
 Anybody want to back out? Now s the accepted 
 time." 
 
 Nobody backed. The two waiters went on with 
 their table settin and we set and watched em. 
 Twas the queerest Sunday mornin ever I put in. 
 By and by Alpheus got uneasy and wandered away 
 out towards the kitchen. In a few minutes back 
 he comes, b ilin mad. 
 
 " Say, fellers," he sung out. " Do you know 
 what s goin on here? There s a party of thirty 
 folks comin in automobiles for dinner. They re 
 gettin the dinner ready now. And if we don t stop 
 em, they ll be fed with our stuff, the grub we ve 
 never got a cent for. I don t know how you feel, 
 but I ve got ten dollar s wuth of clams and lobsters 
 in this eatin -house that ain t goin to be used unless 
 I get my pay for em. You can do as you please, 
 but I m goin to stay in that kitchen and watch them 
 lobsters and things." 
 
 And out he put, headed for the kitchen. The 
 rest of us looked at each other. Then Caleb Bearse 
 rose to his feet. 
 
 " Well," says he, determined, " there s a lot of 
 chops and roastin beef and steaks out aft here that 
 belong to me. None of them go to feed auto folks 
 unless I get my pay fust." 
 
 215
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 And he started for the kitchen. Then up gets 
 Ed Cahoon and follers suit. 
 
 " I ve got six or eight fowl and some eggs aboard 
 this craft," he says. " I cal late I ll keep em com 
 pany." 
 
 The rest of us never said nothin , but I presume 
 likely we all thought alike. Anyhow, inside of three 
 minutes we was all out in that kitchen and facin as 
 mad a chief cook and bottle washer as ever hailed 
 from France or anywheres else. You see, twas 
 time to put the lobsters and clams and all the rest 
 of the truck on the fire and we wa n t willin to see 
 em put there. 
 
 The chief or " chef," or whatever they called 
 him, fairly hopped up and down. The madder he 
 got the less English he talked and the less every 
 body else understood. Bill Bangs done most of the 
 talkin for our side and he had the common idea that 
 to make foreigners understand you must holler at 
 em. Some of the other fellers put in their remarks 
 to help along, all hollerin too, and such a riot you 
 never heard outside of a darky camp-meetin . 
 While the exercises was at their liveliest the tele 
 phone bell rung. After it had rung five times I 
 went into the other room to answer it. When I 
 got back to that kitchen I got Alpheus to one side 
 and says I : 
 
 " Al," I says, " this thing s gettin more inter- 
 216
 
 COOKS AND CROOKS 
 
 estin every minute. That telephone call was from 
 the man that s ordered the big dinner here to-day. 
 There s thirty-two in his party and they ve got as 
 far as Cohasset Narrows already. They ll be here 
 in an hour and a half. He phoned just to let me 
 know they was on the way." 
 
 "Humph!" says he. "What did he say when 
 you told him there wouldn t be no dinner? " 
 
 u He didn t say nothin ," says I, " because I didn t 
 tell him. The wire was a bad one and he couldn t 
 hear plain, so he lost patience and rung off. Said 
 I could tell him whatever I wanted to say when him 
 and his party got here. / don t want to tell him 
 anything. You can explain to thirty-two hungry 
 folks that there s nothin doin in the grub line, if 
 you want to I don t." 
 
 " Humph ! " he says again. " I ain t hankerin 
 for the job. What had we better do, Cap n Zeb, 
 do you think? " 
 
 " Well," says I, " I cal late we d better shorten 
 sail and haul out of the race, for a spell, anyhow. 
 At any rate we d better clear out of this kitchen and 
 leave that chef and the rest to get the dinner. I 
 know it s our stuff that ll go to make that dinner, but 
 I don t see s we can help it. A few dollars more 
 won t break us more n we re cracked already." 
 
 But he waved his hand for me to stop. " No 
 question of a few dollars is in it. It s no use," he 
 
 217
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 says, solemn ; " you re too late. The Frenchman s 
 quit." 
 
 "Quit?" says I. 
 
 " Um-hm," says he. " Bill Bangs told him that 
 we fellers had took charge of this road-house and 
 he and the rest of the kitchen help quit right then 
 and there. They re out in the barn now, holdin 
 counsel of war, I shouldn t wonder. Bill seems to 
 think he s done a great piece of work, but I don t." 
 
 I didn t either; and, after I d hot-footed it to the 
 barn and tried to pump some reason and sense into 
 that chef and his gang, I was surer of it than ever. 
 They wouldn t listen to reason, not from us. They 
 wanted to see the boss, meanin Mr. Frank. He 
 was the one that had hired em and they wouldn t 
 have anything to say to anybody else. 
 
 I come back to the kitchen and found the boys 
 all settin round lookin pretty solemn. My joke 
 about the jail wa n t half so funny as it had been. 
 Bill Bangs, who d been the most savage outlaw of 
 us all, was the meekest now. 
 
 " Say, Cap n," he says to me, nervous like, 
 " hadn t we better clear out and go home? I don t 
 want to see them auto people when they get here. 
 And and I m scared that that stewardess has gone 
 after the sheriff." 
 
 " I presume likely that s just where she s gone," 
 says I. 
 
 218
 
 COOKS AND CROOKS 
 
 " Wh-what ll we do? " says he. 
 
 " Don t know," says I. " But I do know that 
 the time for backin out is past and gone. We 
 started out to be pirates and now it s too late to 
 haul down the skull and cross-bones. We ve got to 
 stand by our guns and fight to the finish, that s all I 
 see. If the rest of you have got anything better to 
 offer, I, for one, would be mighty glad to hear 
 it." 
 
 Everybody looked at everybody else, but nobody 
 said anything. Twas a glum creditors meetin , 
 now I tell you. We set and stood around that 
 kitchen for ten minutes; then we heard voices in the 
 dinin -room. 
 
 "Heavens and earth!" sings out Ed Cahoon. 
 " Who s that? It can t be the automobile gang so 
 soon! " 
 
 It wa n t. Twas a parcel of women. You see, 
 some of the crowd had told their wives about the 
 counsel at the store and that, more n likely, we d 
 pay a visit to the " Sign of the Windmill." Church 
 bein over, they d come to hunt us up. There was 
 Alpheus s wife, and Cahoon s, and Bangs s, and 
 Bearse s, and Jerry Doane s daughter, and Mary 
 Blaisdell. They was mighty excited and wanted to 
 know what was up. We told em, but we didn t 
 hurrah none while we was doin it. 
 
 ; Well," says Matildy Bangs, " I must say you 
 219
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 men folks have made a nice mess of it all. Wil 
 liam Bangs, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. 
 What ll I do when you re in state s prison? How m 
 I goin to get along, I d like to know! You never 
 think of nobody but yourself." 
 
 Poor Bill was about ready to cry, but this made 
 him mad. " Who would I think of, for thunder 
 sakes ! " he sung out. " I m the one that s goin to 
 be jailed, ain t I?" 
 
 Then Mary Blaisdell took me by the arm. Her 
 eyes were sparklin and she looked excited. 
 
 " Cap n Snow," she whispered, " come here a 
 minute. I want to speak to you. I have an idea." 
 
 " Lord ! " says I, groanin , " I wish / had. What 
 Is it?" 
 
 What do you suppose twas? Why, that we, 
 ourselves, should get up the dinner for the auto folks. 
 Every woman there could cook, she said, and so 
 could some of the men. We d seized the stuff for 
 the dinner already. It was ours, or, at any rate, it 
 hadn t been paid for. 
 
 " We can get em a good dinner," says she. " I 
 know we can. And, if that Frank doesn t come back 
 until you have been paid, you can take that much 
 out of his bills. If he does come no one will be any 
 worse off, not even he. Let s do it." 
 
 I looked at her. As she said, we wouldn t be any 
 worse off, and we might as well be hung for old 
 
 220
 
 COOKS AND CROOKS 
 
 sheep as lamb. The auto folks would be better off 4 , 
 they d have some kind of a meal, anyhow. 
 
 We had a grand confab, but, in the end, that s 
 what we done. Every one of them women could 
 cook plain food, and Mrs. Cahoon was the best cake 
 and pie maker in the county. We divided up the 
 job. All hands had somethin to do, includin me, 
 who undertook a clam chowder, and Bill Bangs, who 
 split wood and lugged water and cussed and groaned 
 about state s prison while he was doin it. 
 
 The last thing was ready and the last plate set 
 when the autos, six of em, purred and chugged up 
 to the front door. We expected Frank, or the 
 stewardess, or the constable, or all three of em, any 
 minute, but they hadn t showed up. The dinner 
 crowd piled in and set down at the tables and the 
 head man of em, the one who was givin the party, 
 come over to see me. And who should he turn out 
 to be but the stout man I d met at the store. The 
 one who had told me he d been waitin for a chance 
 to get even with Frank. I don t know which was 
 the most surprised to meet each other in that place, 
 he or I. 
 
 " Hello! " says he. " What are you doin here? 
 You joined the Forty Thieves? Where s the boss 
 robber?" 
 
 I told him the boss was out; that there was some 
 complications that would take too long to explain. 
 
 221
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " But, at any rate," says I, " you re meal s ready, 
 and that s the main thing, ain t it? " 
 
 " Yes," says he, " it is. I ve got a crowd of New 
 York men business associates of mine and their 
 wives down for the week end and I wanted to 
 give em a Cape dinner. I never would have come 
 here, but the Denboro place is full up and couldn t 
 take us in. I hope the dinner is a better one than 
 the last I had in this place." 
 
 I told him not to expect too much, but to set and 
 be thankful for whatever he got. He didn t under 
 stand, of course, but he set down and we commenced 
 servin the dinner. 
 
 We started in with Little Neck quahaugs and fol 
 lowed them up with my clam chowder. Then we 
 jogged along with bluefish and hot biscuit and 
 creamed potatoes. After them come the lobsters 
 and corn and such. Eat! You never see anybody 
 stow food the way those New Yorkers did. 
 
 In the middle of the lobster doin s I bent over my 
 fleshy friend and asked him if things was satisfac 
 tory. He looked up with his mouth full. 
 
 " Great Scott ! " says he. " Cap n, this is the best 
 feed I ve had since I first struck the Cape, and that 
 was ten years ago. What s happened to this hotel ? 
 Is it under new management? " 
 
 I didn t feel like grinnin , but I couldn t help it. 
 
 " Yes," says I, " it is for the time bein ." 
 222
 
 COOKS AND CROOKS 
 
 The final layer we loaded that crowd up with was 
 blueberry dumplin and they washed it down with, 
 coffee. Then the fat man his name was John 
 son hauled out cigars and the males lit and started 
 puffin . I went out to the kitchen to see how things 
 was goin there. 
 
 Mary Blaisdell, with a big apron tied over her 
 Sunday gown, was washin dishes. Her sleeves was 
 rolled up, her hair was rumpled, and she looked 
 pretty enough to eat at least, I shouldn t have 
 minded tryin . 
 
 "How was it?" she asked. "Are they satis 
 fied?" 
 
 " If they ain t they ought to be," says I. " And 
 to-morrer the dyspepsy doctors ll do business enough 
 to give us a commission. But where s our old col 
 lege chum, the chef, and the waiters and all ? " 
 
 " They re in the barn," says she. " They tried 
 to come in here and make trouble, but Mr. Perkins 
 wouldn t let em. He drove em back to the barn 
 again. But they re dreadfully cross." 
 
 " I shouldn t wonder," I says. " Well, goodness 
 knows what ll come of this, Mary, but " 
 
 Bill Bangs interrupted me. He come tearin out 
 of the dinin -room, white as a new tops l, and his 
 eyes pretty close to poppin out of his head. 
 
 " My soul! " he panted. " Oh, my soul, Cap n 
 Zeb! They re comin l they re comin ! " 
 
 223
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " Who s comin ? " I wanted to know. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Frank, and that stewardess ! And 
 John Bean, the constable, is with em. What shall 
 I do? I ll have to go to jail! " 
 
 He was all but cryin , like a young one. I left 
 him to his wife, who, judgin by her actions, was 
 cal latin to soothe him with a pan of hot water, and 
 headed for the front porch. However, I was too 
 late. I hadn t any more than reached the dinin - 
 foom, where all the comp ny was still settin at the 
 tables, than in through the front door marches Mr. 
 Edwin Frank of Pittsburg, and the stewardess, and 
 John Bean, the constable. The band had begun to 
 play and twas time to face the music. 
 
 Frank looked around at the crowd at the tables, 
 at Mrs. Cahoon, and Alpheus, and the rest who d 
 done the waitin ; and then at me. His face was 
 fire red and he was ugly as a shark in a weir net. 
 
 "Humph!" says he. "What does this mean? 
 Snow, what high-handed outrage have you commit 
 ted on these premises? " 
 
 I held up my hand. "Shh!" says I, tryin to 
 think quick and save a scene; " Shh, Mr. Frank! " 
 I says. " If you ll come into your private cabin 
 I ll explain best I can. Somebody had to get din 
 ner for this crowd. Your Frenchmen wouldn t 
 work, so we did. All we ve used is our grub, that 
 which ain t been paid for, and " 
 
 224
 
 , COOKS AND CROOKS 
 
 His teeth snapped together and he was so mad 
 he couldn t speak for a second. The stewardess 
 was as mad as he was, but it took more n that to 
 keep her quiet. 
 
 " Fred," says she and even then, upset as I was, 
 I noticed she didn t call him by the name he give 
 Jacobs and me " Fred, have him arrested. He s 
 the one that s responsible for it all. Officer, you do 
 your duty. Arrest that Snow there ! Do you 
 hear?" 
 
 She was pointin to me. Poor old Bean hadn t 
 arrested anybody for so long that he d forgot how, 
 I cal late. All he did was stammer and look silly. 
 
 " Cap n Zeb," he says, "I I m dreadful sorry, 
 but but " 
 
 Then he was interrupted. A big, tall, gray-haired 
 chap, who was settin about amidships of the table, 
 got to his feet. 
 
 " Just a minute, Officer," says he, quiet, and never 
 lettin go of his cigar, " just a minute, please. The 
 er lady and gentleman you have with you are 
 old acquaintances of mine. Hello, Francis! I m 
 very glad to see you. We ve missed you at the Con- 
 quilquit Club. This meetin is unexpected, but not 
 the less pleasant." 
 
 He was talkin to the Frank man. And the Frank 
 man well, you should have seen him! The red 
 went out of his face and he almost flopped over onto 
 
 225
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 the floor. The stewardess went white, too, and she 
 grabbed his arm with both hands. 
 
 "My Lord! " she says, in a whisper like, " it s 
 Mr. Washburn!" 
 
 " Correct, Hortense," says the gray-haired man. 
 " You haven t forgotten me, I see. Flattered, I m 
 
 sure." 
 
 For just about ten seconds the three of em looked 
 at each other. Then Frank made a jump for the 
 door and the woman with him. They was out and 
 down the steps afore poor old Bean could get his 
 brains to workin . 
 
 " Stop em ! " shouts Washburn. " Officer, don t 
 let em get away ! " 
 
 But they d got away already. By the time we d 
 reached the porch they was in the buggy they d come 
 in and flyin down the road in a cloud of dust. 
 
 I wiped my forehead. 
 
 "Well! "says I, "well!" 
 
 Johnson pushed through the excited bunch and 
 took the gray-haired feller by the arm. 
 
 " Say, Wash," he says, " you re havin too good 
 a time all by yourself. Let us in on it, won t you? 
 Your friends are goin some; no use to run after 
 them. Who are they?" 
 
 Washburn knocked the ashes from his cigar and 
 smiled. He d been cool as a no thwest breeze right 
 along. 
 
 226
 
 COOKS AND CROOKS 
 
 " Well," he says, " the masculine member used to 
 be called Fred Francis. He was steward of the Con- 
 quilquit Country Club on Long Island for some 
 time. He cleared out a year ago with a thousand 
 or so of the Club funds, and we haven t been able 
 to trace him since. He was a first-class steward and 
 sharp as a steel trap but he was a crook. The 
 woman oh, she went with him. She is his wife." 
 
 227
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 A WHOLE month more went by afore Jim 
 Henry Jacobs was well enough to come 
 home. When he got off the train at the 
 Ostable depot, thin and white and lookin as if he d 
 been hauled through a knothole, I was waitin for 
 him. Maybe we wa n t glad to see each other! 
 We shook hands for pretty nigh five minutes, I car- 
 late. I loaded him into my buggy and drove him 
 down to the Poquit House and took him upstairs 
 to his room, which had been made as comf table and 
 cozy as it s possible to make a room in that kind of 
 a boardin -house. 
 
 He set down in a big chair and looked around 
 him. 
 
 "By George, Skipper!" he says, fetchin a long 
 breath, " this is home, and I m mighty glad to be 
 here. Where d all the flowers come from? " 
 
 " Mary is responsible for them," I told him. 
 " She thought they d sort of brighten up things." 
 
 " They do, all right," says he, grateful. " And 
 now tell me about business. How is everything?" 
 
 228
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 I told him that everything was fine ; trade was tip 
 top, and so on. He listened and was pleased, but 
 I could see there was somethin else on his mind. 
 
 " There s just one thing more," he said, soon s 
 he got the chance. " I knew the store must be O. 
 K. ; your letters told me that. But er but " 
 tryin hard to be casual and not too interested, " how 
 is Frank doin with his restaurant? How s the 
 Sign of the Windmill gettin on? " 
 
 Then I told him the whole yarn, almost as I ve 
 told it here. He listened, breakin out with ex 
 clamations and such every little while. When I got 
 to where the Washburn man told who Frank and 
 the stewardess was, he couldn t hold in any longer. 
 
 " A crook! " he sung out. " A crook ! And she 
 was his wifel " 
 
 " So it seems," says I. " And that ain t all of 
 it, neither. You remember the doctor said he d 
 drawn his account out of the Ostable bank. Yes. 
 Well, that account didn t amount to much ; he d used 
 it about all, anyway. But there was another ac 
 count in his wife s name at the Sandwich bank, and 
 that was fairly good size." 
 
 " Did you get hold of that? " he asked, excited. 
 
 " No, we didn t. Twas in her name and we 
 wouldn t have touched it, if we d wanted to; but we 
 didn t get the chance. She drew it all the very next 
 mornin and the pair of em cleared out. I judge 
 
 229
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 they d planned to skip in a few days anyhow, and 
 our creditors raid only hurried things up a little 
 mite. The whole thing was a skin game Frank 
 and his precious wife had seen ruination comin on 
 and they d laid plans to feather their own nest and 
 let the rest of us whistle. We ain t seen em from 
 that day to this." 
 
 He was shakin all over. "You ain t?" he 
 shouted, jumpin from the chair. "You ain t? 
 Why not? What did you let em get away for? 
 Why didn t you set the police after em? What 
 sort of managin do you call that? I I " 
 
 " Hush ! " says I, surprised to see him act so. 
 "Hush, Jim! you ain t heard tke whole of it yet. 
 Our bill " 
 
 " Bill be hanged 1 " he broke in. " I don t care a 
 continental about the bill. I invested fifteen hun 
 dred dollars of my own money in that road-house, 
 and you let that fakir get away with the whole of it. 
 You re a nice partner ! " 
 
 / was surprised now, and a good deal cut up and 
 hurt. Twas an understandin between us not a 
 written one, but an understandin just the same 
 that neither should go into any outside deal without 
 tellin the other. We d agreed to that after the row 
 concernin Taylor and the " Palace Parlors." So I 
 was surprised and hurt and mad. But I held in well 
 as I could. 
 
 230
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 "That s enough of that, Jim Henry!" says I. 
 " I ll talk about that later. Now I ll tell you the 
 rest of the yarn I started with. After that critter 
 who called himself Frank, but whose name, it 
 seemed, was Francis, had galloped away with the 
 stewardess woman, there was conslder ble excitement 
 around that dinin -room, now I tell you. However, 
 Johnson and Washburn and me managed to get to 
 gether in the private office and I told em all about 
 how we come to be there, and about our gettin their 
 dinner, and all the rest of it. They seemed to think 
 twas funny, laughed liked a pair of loons, but I was 
 a long ways from laughin . 
 
 Well, well, well ! says Johnson, when I d fin 
 ished, that s the best joke I ve heard in a month 
 of Sundays. You sartinly have your own ways of 
 doin business down here, Cap n Snow. But the din 
 ner was a good one and I ll pay you for it now. 
 How much? 
 
 " Well, says I, I suppose I ought to get what 
 I can for our crowd to leave with their wives and 
 relations afore we re carted to jail. Course the meal 
 we got for you wa n t what you expected and I can t 
 charge that Frank thief s price for it; but I ve got 
 to charge somethin . If you think a dollar a head 
 wouldn t be too much, I 
 
 " A dollar! says both of em. A dollar! 
 
 " Do you mean that s all you ll charge ? says 
 231
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 Johnson. * A dollar for that dinner ! It was the 
 best 
 
 " * You bet it was ! says Washburn. 
 
 " Look here! goes on Johnson. * I was to pay 
 Frank, or whatever his real name is, two-fifty a plate. 
 Yours was wuth three of any meal I ever got here, 
 but, if you will be satisfied with the contract price I 
 made with him, I ll give you a check now. And, 
 Cap n Snow, let me give you a piece of advice. Now 
 you ve got this hotel, keep it; keep it and run it. 
 If you can furnish dinners like this one every day 
 in the week durin the summer and fall you ll have 
 customers enough. Why, I ll engage twenty-five 
 plates for next Sunday, myself. I*ve got another 
 week-end party, haven t I, Wash ? 
 
 " If you haven t I can get one for you, says 
 Washburn. Johnson s advice is good, Cap n. 
 Keep this place and run it yourself. Don t be afraid 
 of Francis. Confound him! I ought to have him 
 jailed. The Club would pitch me out if they knew 
 I had the chance and didn t take it. But I won t, 
 for your sake. So long as he doesn t trouble you 
 I ll keep quiet. But if he does trouble you, if he 
 ever comes back, just send for me. However, you 
 won t have to send ; he ll never come back. 
 
 " And," says I, to Jim Henry, " he ain t ever 
 come back. I talked the matter over with Mary 
 and Alpheus and a few of the others and, after con- 
 
 232
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 sider ble misgivin s on my part, we reached an agree 
 ment. I decided to run the Sign of the Windmill 
 myself. We bounced the chef and his helpers and 
 the foreign waiters and hired Alpheus s wife and 
 Cahoon s daughter and four or five more. We fed 
 ten folks that next day and they all said they was 
 comin again. They did and they fetched others. 
 The upshot of it is that all that hotel s outstandin 
 bills have been paid, the place is out of debt, and 
 the outlook for next season is somethin fine. There, 
 Jim Henry, that s the yarn. I went through Purga 
 tory because I figgered that you had trusted the store 
 business in my hands and the Windmill s bill was so 
 large and I thought I was responsible for it. If I d 
 known you d put money into the shebang without 
 tellin me, your partner, a word about it, maybe I d 
 have felt worse. I should have felt worse I do 
 now but in another way. I didn t think you d 
 do such a thing, Jim! I honestly didn t." 
 
 He d set down while I was talkin . Now he got 
 up again. 
 
 " Skipper," he says, sort of broken, "I I don t 
 know what to say to you. I " 
 
 " It s all right," says I, pretty sharp. " Your 
 fifteen hundred s all right, I cal late. The furniture 
 and fixin s are wuth that, I guess. Is there anything 
 else you want to ask me? If not I m goin to the 
 
 store." 
 
 233
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 I was turnin to go, but he stepped for ard and 
 stopped me. 
 
 " Zeb," he says, his face workin , " don t go away 
 mad. I ve been a chump. You ought to hate me, 
 but I I hope you won t. I was a fool. I thought 
 because you was country that you hadn t any head 
 for business, and when you wouldn t invest in that 
 Windmill proposition I was sore and went into it 
 myself. My conscience has plagued me ever since. 
 I m a low-down chump. I deserve to lose the fif 
 teen hundred and I m glad I did. By the Lord 
 Harry! you ve got more real business instinct than 
 I ever dreamed of." 
 
 He looked so sort of weak and sick and pitiful 
 that I was awful sorry for him, in spite of every 
 thing. 
 
 " Don t talk foolish," says I. " You ain t lost 
 your money. It s yours now; at least I don t think 
 Brother Fred George Eben Frank Francis ll ever 
 turn up to claim it." 
 
 He shook his head. " Not much ! " he says. 
 " You don t suppose I ll take a share in that hotel, 
 after you and your smart managin saved it, do you? 
 I ain t quite as mean as that, no matter what you 
 think. No, sir, you ve made good and the whole 
 property is yours. All I want you to do is to give 
 me another chance. If I live I ll show you how 
 thankful I " 
 
 234
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 " There ! there ! " says I, all upset, " don t say 
 another word. Of course we ll hang together in 
 this, same as in everything else. Shake, and let s 
 forget it." 
 
 We shook hands and his was so thin and white I 
 felt worse than ever. 
 
 " Skipper," he says, " I can t thank" 
 
 " No need to thank me," I cut in. " If you ve 
 got to thank anybody, thank Mary Blaisdell. She s 
 been the brains of that eatin -house concern ever 
 since I took hold of it. She s a wonder, that woman. 
 If she d been my own sister she couldn t have done 
 more. I wish she was." 
 
 He looked at me, pretty queer. 
 
 " Skipper," says he, smilin , " if you wish that 
 you re a bigger chump than I ve been, and that s 
 sayin a heap." 
 
 What in the world he meant by that I didn t know 
 
 but I didn t ask him. Not that I didn t think. 
 I d been thinkin a lot of foolish things lately, but 
 you could have cut my head oft afore I said em out 
 loud, even to myself. 
 
 He came down to the store the next mornin and 
 the sight of it seemed to be the very tonic he needed. 
 He got better day by day and pretty soon was his 
 own brisk self again. " The Sign of the Windmill " 
 
 by the way, I d changed the name on my own 
 hook and twas the " Sign of the Bluefish " now 
 
 235
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 done fust rate all through the fall and when we 
 closed it we was sure that next summer it would be 
 a little gold mine for us. In fact, everything in the 
 trade line looked good, by-products and all, and I 
 ought to have been a happy man. But I wa n t ex 
 actly. Somehow or other I couldn t feel quite con 
 tented. I didn t know what was the matter with 
 me and when I hinted as much to Jacobs he just 
 looked at me and laughed. 
 
 " You re lonesome, that s what s the matter with 
 you," he says. " You re too good a man to be 
 boardin at a one-horse ranch like the Poquit." 
 
 " I ll admit that," says I. " I ll give in that I m 
 next door to an angel and ought to wear wings, if 
 it ll please you any to have me say so. And the 
 Poquit ain t a paradise, by no means. But I ve 
 sailed salt water for the biggest part of my life and 
 it ain t poor grub that ails me." 
 
 Who said it was? " says he. " I said you were 
 lonesome. You ought to have a home." 
 
 " Old Mans Home you mean, I s pose. Well, 
 I ain t goin there yet." 
 
 He laughed again and walked off. 
 
 In October he went up to Boston and came back 
 with his head full of new ideas and his pockets full 
 of notions. He d been to what the advertisements 
 called the Industrial Exhibition in Mechanics 
 Buildin up there, and had fetched back every last 
 
 236
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 thing he could get for nothin and some few that he 
 bought cheap. He had a sample trap that, accordin 
 to the circular, would catch all the able-bodied rats 
 in a township the fust night and make all the crip 
 pled and bedridden ones grieve themselves to death 
 of disappointment because they couldn t get into it 
 afore closin hours. And he had the Gunners 
 Pocket Companion, which was a foldin hatchet and 
 butcher knife, with a corkscrew in the handle; and 
 samples of " cereal coffee " that didn t taste like 
 either cereal or coffee; and safety razors that were 
 warranted not to cut and wouldn t; and and I 
 don t know what all. These was side issues, how 
 ever, as you might say. What he was really en 
 thusiastic over was the Eureka Adjustable Aluminum 
 Window Screen. If he d been a mosquito he 
 couldn t have been more anxious about them 
 screens. 
 
 " They re the greatest ever, Skipper ! " he says 
 to me, enthusiastic. " Fit any window; can t rust 
 and a child of twelve can put em up." 
 
 " That part don t count," says I. " Nowadays 
 if a child of twelve ain t halfway through Harvard 
 his folks send for the doctor. I may be a hayseed, 
 but I read the magazines." 
 
 He went right along, never payin no attention, 
 and pralsin up them screens as if he was nominatin 
 em for office. Finally he made proclamation that 
 
 237
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 he d applied in the store name, of course for 
 the Ostable County agency for J em. 
 
 " But why? " says I. " We ve got an adjustable 
 screen agency now. And they re good screens, too. 
 No mosquito can get through them unless it takes 
 to usin a can-opener, which wouldn t surprise me a 
 whole lot." 
 
 " I know they are good screens," says he ; " but 
 there s nothin new or novel about em. And, I 
 tell you, Cap n Zeb, it s novelty that catches the coin. 
 We want to get the contract for screenin that new 
 hotel at West Ostable. It ll be ready in a couple of 
 months and there s two hundred rooms in it. Let s 
 say there are two windows to a room; that s four 
 hundred screens besides doors and all the rest. 
 That hotel will need screens, won t it? " 
 
 " Need em! " says I. " In West Ostable! In 
 among all them salt meadows and cedar swamps! 
 It ll need screens and nettin s and insect powder and 
 intment and even then nobody but the hard-of- 
 hearin bo rders ll be able to sleep on account of the 
 hummin . Need screens! That hotel! My soul 
 and body! " 
 
 Well, then, we must get the contract that s all. 
 It was well wuth the trouble of gettin . And with 
 the Adjustable Aluminum to start with, and he, Jim 
 Henry, to do the talkin , we would get it. He d 
 applied for the county agency and the Adjustable 
 
 238
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 folks had about decided to give it to him. They d 
 write and let us know pretty soon. 
 
 A week went by and we didn t hear a word. 
 Then, on the followin Monday but one, come a 
 letter. Jim Henry was openin the mail and I heard 
 him rip loose a brisk remark. 
 
 " What s the matter? " says I. 
 
 " Matter ! " he snarls. " Why, the miserable 
 four-flushers have turned me down that s all. 
 Read that!" 
 
 I took the letter he handed me. It was type 
 wrote on a big sheet of paper, with a printed head, 
 readin : " Ormstein & Meyer, Hardware and 
 Tools. Manufacturers of Eureka Adjustable Alu 
 minum Window Screens." And this is what it said: 
 
 Mr. J. H. Jacobs, 
 
 Ostable Grocery, Dry Goods, Boots and Shoes and 
 Fancy Goods Store, Ostable, Mass. 
 
 DEAR SIR: Regarding your application for Osta 
 ble County ag y Eureka Adjustable Aluminum Win 
 dow Screens, would say that we have decided to give 
 ag y to party named Geo. Lentz, who will give en 
 tire time to it instead making it a side issue as per 
 your conversation with our Mr. Meyer. Regretting 
 that we cannot do business together in this regard, 
 but trusting for a continuance of your valued patron 
 age, we remain Yours truly, 
 
 ORMSTEIN & MEYER. 
 Die. M L. G. 
 
 239
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 "Now what do you think of that?" snaps Jim, 
 mad as he could stick. " What do you think of 
 that!" 
 
 " Well," says I, slow, " I think that, speakin as 
 a man in the crosstrees, it looks as if you and me 
 wouldn t furnish screens for the West Ostable Ho 
 tel." 
 
 He half shut his eyes and stared at me hard. 
 
 "Oh!" says he. "That s what you think, 
 hey?" 
 
 " Why, yes," I says. " Don t you ? " 
 
 " No ! " he sings out, so loud that Dolph Cahoon, 
 our new clerk, who d been half asleep in the lee of 
 the gingham and calico dressgoods counter, jumped 
 up and stepped on the store cat. The cat beat 
 for port down the back stairs, whoopin comments, 
 and Dolph begun measurin calico as if he was 
 wound up for eight days. 
 
 " No ! " says Jacobs again, soon as the cat s opin 
 ion of Dolph had faded away into the cellar 
 " No ! " he says. " I don t think it at all. We 
 may not sell Eureka Adjustables to that hotel, but 
 we ll sell screens to it and don t you forget that. 
 I ll make it my business to get that contract if I 
 don t do anything else. I m no quitter, if you are ! " 
 
 " Nary quit ! " says I. " I ll stand by to pull 
 whatever rope I can; but it does seem to me that 
 this agent, whoever he is, will have an eye on that 
 
 240
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 hotel. And, accordin to your accounts, he s got 
 better goods than we have." 
 
 " Maybe. But if he s a better salesman than I 
 am he ll have to go some to prove it. I ll beat him, 
 by fair means or foul, just to get even. That s a 
 promise, Skipper, and I call you to witness it." 
 
 " Wonder who this Geo. Lentz is," says L 
 " Tain t a Cape name, that s sure." 
 
 " I don t care who he is. I only wish he d have 
 the nerve to come into this store that s all. He d 
 go out on the fly I tell you that ! And that s an 
 other promise." 
 
 Maybe twas; but, if so However, I m a lit 
 tle mite ahead of myself; fust come fust served, as 
 the youngest boy said when the father undertook to 
 thrash the whole family. The fust thing that hap 
 pened after our talk and the Eureka folks letter was 
 Jim Henry s goin over to West Ostable to see 
 Parkinson, the hotel man. He went in the new run 
 about automobile that he d bought since he got back 
 from the West, and was gone pretty nigh all day. 
 When he got back he was hopeful I could see 
 that. 
 
 " Well," says he, " I ve laid the cornerstone. 
 I ve talked the Nonesuch " that was the brand of 
 screen we carried " to beat the cars ; and we ll have 
 a show to get in a bid, at any rate. It ll be six weeks 
 more afore the contract s given out, and meantime 
 
 241
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 yours truly will be on the job. If our old college 
 chum, G. Lentz, Esquire, don t hustle he ll be left at 
 the post." 
 
 "What sort of a chap is this Parkinson man?" 
 I asked. 
 
 " Oh, he s all right; big and fat and good-natured. 
 A good feller, I should say. Likes automobilin , 
 too, and thinks my car is a winner." 
 
 " Married, is he? " says I. 
 
 " No; he s a widower. That s a good thing, too." 
 
 " Why? What s that got to do with it? " 
 
 " A whole lot. If he was married I d have to 
 take Mrs. P. along on our auto rides; and let 
 alone the fact that there wouldn t be room she d 
 want to talk scenery instead of screens. Women 
 and business don t mix. That s one reason why I ve 
 never married." 
 
 I couldn t help thinkin of some of the hints he d 
 been heavin at me the " home" remarks and so 
 on but I never said nothin . 
 
 This was a Tuesday. And when, on Thursday 
 afternoon, I walked into the store, after havin had 
 dinner at the Poquit, I found Dolph Cahoon our 
 new clerk I ve mentioned already leanin grace 
 ful and easy over the candy counter and talkin with 
 a young woman I d never seen afore. I didn t look 
 at her very close, but I got a sort of general observa 
 tion as I walked aft to the post-office department; 
 
 242
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 and, sifted down, that observation left me with re 
 membrances of a blue serge jacket and skirt, cut 
 clipper fashion and fittin as if they was built for the 
 craft that was in em; a little blue hat a real hat; 
 not a velvet tar barrel upside down with a little 
 white gull s wing on it; brown eyes and brown hair, 
 and a white collar and shirtwaist. I didn t stop to 
 hail, you understand; but I judged that the stranger s 
 home port wa n t Ostable or any of the Cape towns. 
 Ostable outfitters don t rig em that way. 
 
 I come in the side door, and Dolph or his cus 
 tomer didn t notice me. The young woman was 
 lookin into the showcase; and, as for Dolph, he 
 wouldn t have noticed the President of the United 
 States just then. He was twirlin his red mustache 
 with the hand that had the rock-crystal ring on the 
 finger of it, and his talk was a sort of sugared purr 
 at least, that s the nighest description of it that 
 I can get at. 
 
 I set down in my chair at the postmaster s desk 
 and begun to turn over some papers. Mary had 
 gone to dinner and Jim Henry was away in his auto ; 
 so I was all alone. I turned over the papers, but I 
 couldn t get my mind on em the talk outside was 
 too prevailing so to speak. 
 
 Dolph was doin the heft of it. The young 
 woman s answers was short and not too interested. 
 Dolph was remarkin about the weather and what 
 
 243
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 a dull winter we d had, and how glad he d be when 
 spring really set in and the summer folks begun to 
 come and so on. 
 
 " Really," says he, and though I couldn t see him 
 I d have bet that the mustache and ring was doin 
 business " Really," he says, " there s a dreadful 
 lack of cultivated society in this town, Miss er " 
 
 He held up here, waitin , I judged, for the young 
 woman to give her name. However, she didn t; so 
 he purred ahead. 
 
 " There s so few folks," he says, " for a young 
 feller like me used to the city to associate with. 
 This is a jay place all right. I m only here tem 
 porary. I shall go back to Brockton in the fall, I 
 guess." 
 
 / guessed he d go sooner; but I kept still. 
 
 " Are you goin to remain here for some time ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " Possibly," says the girl. 
 
 " I m fraid you ll find it pretty dull, won t you? " 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " I should be glad to introduce you to the folks 
 that are worth knowin . Are you fond of dancin ? 
 There s a subscription ball at the town hall to-night." 
 
 This was what a lawyer d call a leadin question, 
 seemed to me; but the answer didn t seem to lead to 
 anything warmer than the North Pole. The young 
 woman said, " Indeed? " and that was all. 
 
 244
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 " I m perfectly dippy about waltzin ," says Dolph. 
 "By the way, won t you have some confectionery? 
 These chocolates are pretty fair." 
 
 I riz to my feet. I don t mind bein a philanthro 
 pist once in a while, but I like to do my philanthropin 
 fust-hand. And them chocolates sold for sixty cents 
 a pound ! 
 
 I had my hand on the doorknob. Just as I turned 
 it I heard the young woman say, crisp and cold as a 
 fresh cucumber: 
 
 " Pardon me, but will your employer be in soon ? 
 If not I ll call again when he is in." 
 
 " You won t have to," says I, steppin out of the 
 post-office room and walkin over toward the candy 
 counter. " One of him s in now. Dolph, you can 
 put them chocolates back in the case. Oh, yes 
 and you might associate yourself with the broom and 
 waltz out and sweep the front platform. It s been 
 needin your cultivated society bad." 
 
 The rest of that clerk s face turned as red as his 
 mustache, and the way he slammed the chocolate 
 box into the showcase was a caution ! Then I turned 
 to the young woman, who was as sober as a deacon, 
 except for her eyes, which were snappin with fun, 
 and says I : 
 
 * You wanted to see me, I believe, miss. My 
 name s Zebulon Snow and I m one of the partners 
 in this jay place. What can I do for you? " 
 
 245
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 She waited until Dolph and the broom had moved 
 out to the platform. Then she turned to me and she 
 says: 
 
 " Captain Snow," she says, " I understand that 
 your firm here is intendin puttin in a bid for the 
 window screens at the new hotel at West Ostable. 
 Is that so?" 
 
 I was consider ble surprised, but I didn t see any 
 reason why I shouldn t tell the truth. 
 
 "Why, yes, ma am," says I; "we are figgerin 
 on the job. Are you interested in that hotel? If 
 you are I d be glad to show you samples of the 
 Nonesuch screen. We cal late that it s a mighty 
 slick article." 
 
 She smiled, pretty as a picture. 
 
 " I am interested in the hotel," she says; " and in 
 screens, though not exactly in the way you mean, 
 perhaps. Here is my card." 
 
 She took a little leather wallet out of her jacket- 
 pocket and handed me a card. I took it. Twas 
 printed neat as could be; but it wa n t the neatness 
 of the printin that set me all aback, with my can 
 vas flappin twas what that printin said: 
 
 GEORGIANNA LENTZ 
 
 OSTABLK COUNTY AGENT FOB THE 
 EUREKA ADJUSTABLE ALUMINUM WINDOW SCREEN 
 
 246
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 What ? What ! Hey ? " says I. 
 
 " Yes," says she. 
 
 " Agent for the Eureka Adjusta You ! " 
 
 " Why, yes; of course. The Eureka people wrote 
 you that they had given me the agency, didn t 
 they?" 
 
 I rubbed my forehead. 
 
 " They wrote my partner and me," I stammered, 
 " that they d given it to to a feller named George 
 er that is " 
 
 " Not George Georgianna. Oh, I see! They 
 abbreviated the name and so you thought Of 
 course you did. How odd ! " 
 
 She laughed. I d have laughed too, maybe, if 
 I d had sense enough to think of it; but I hadn t, just 
 then. 
 
 You the agent ! " says I. "A a woman ! " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "But but a woman!" 
 
 " Well? " pretty crisp. " I admit I am a woman; 
 but is that any reason why I should not sell window 
 screens? " 
 
 I rubbed my forehead some more. These are 
 progressive days we re livin in, aad sometimes I have 
 to hustle to keep abreast of em. 
 
 "Why, no," says I, slow; "I cal late tain t. I 
 suppose there s no law against a woman s sellin 
 most any article that is salable, window screens 
 
 247
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 or anything else if she wants to; but I can t 
 see " 
 
 " Why she should want to ? Perhaps not. How 
 ever, we needn t go into that just now. The fact is 
 I do want to and intend to. I have secured a 
 boardin place here in Ostable and shall make the 
 town my headquarters. This is a small community 
 and one naturally prefers to be friendly with all the 
 people in it. So, after thinkinV the matter over, I 
 decided that it was best to begin with a clear under- 
 standin . Do you follow me?" 
 
 "I I guess so. Heave ahead; I ll do my best 
 to keep you in sight. If the weather gets too thick 
 I ll sound the foghorn. Go on." 
 
 " I am naturally desirous of securin the hotel 
 screen contract. So, I understand, are you. I have 
 seen Mr. Parkinson, the hotel man, and he tells me 
 that your firm and mine will probably be the only 
 bidders. Now that makes us rivals, but it need not 
 necessarily make us enemies. My proposition is this : 
 You will submit your bid and I will submit mine. 
 The party submittin the lowest bid quality of 
 product considered will win. I propose that we 
 let it go in that way. We might, of course, do a 
 great many other things might attempt to bring 
 influence to bear; might well, might cultivate Mr. 
 Parkinson s acquaintance, and and so on. You 
 might do that so might I, I suppose ; but, for my 
 
 248
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN 
 
 part, I prefer to make this a fair, honorable business 
 rivalry, in which the best man er " 
 
 " Or woman," I couldn t help puttin in. 
 
 " In which the best bid wins. I have already 
 demonstrated the Eureka for Mr. Parkinson s benefit 
 and left a sample with him. He tells me that you 
 have done the same with the Nonesuch. I will agree 
 
 if you will to let the matter rest there, submit- 
 tin our respective bids when the time comes and 
 abidin by the result. Now what do you say? " 
 
 Twas pretty hard to say anything. I wanted to 
 laugh; but I couldn t do that. If there ever was 
 anybody In dead earnest twas this partic lar young 
 woman. And she wa n t the kind to laugh at either. 
 She might be in a queer sort of business for a female 
 
 but she was nobody s fool. 
 
 " Well," she asks again, " what do you say? " 
 
 I shook my head. " I can t say anything very 
 definite just this minute," I told her. " I ve got a 
 partner, and naturally I can t do much without con- 
 sultin him; but I will say this, though," noticin that 
 she looked pretty disappointed " I ll say that, fur s 
 I m concerned, I m agreeable." 
 
 She smiled and, as I cal late I ve said afore, her 
 smile was wuth lookin at. 
 
 Thank you so much, Cap n Snow," she says. 
 "Then we shall be friends, sha n t we? Except in 
 business, I mean." 
 
 249
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 "I hope so sartin, says I. "Now it ain t 
 none of my affairs, of course, but I am curious. How 
 did you ever happen to take the agency for for 
 window screens ? " 
 
 That made her serious right off. She might smile 
 at other things, but not at her trade; that was life 
 and death for sure. 
 
 " I took it," she says, " for several reasons. My 
 mother died recently and I was left alone. My 
 means were not sufficient to support me. I have 
 done office work, typewriting and so on, for some 
 years; but I felt that the opportunities in the posi 
 tions I held were limited and I determined to take 
 up sellin that is where the larger returns are. 
 Don t you think so? " 
 
 " Oh, yes sartin." 
 
 Yes. I knew Mr. Meyer slightly in a business 
 way. I took the Eureka screen and sold it on com 
 mission about Boston for a time. Then I applied 
 for the Ostable County agency and got it that s 
 all." 
 
 " I see," says I. " Yes, yes. Well, I must say 
 that, for a girl, you " 
 
 She interrupted me quick. 
 
 " I don t see that my bein a girl has anything to 
 do with it," she says. " And in this agreement of 
 ours, if it is made, I don t wish the difference of sex 
 considered at all. This is a business proposition 
 
 250
 
 JIM HENRY STARTS SCREENIN* 
 
 and sex has nothin to do with it. Is that plain?" 
 
 " Yes," says I, consider-in , " it s plain; but I ain t 
 sure that " 
 
 " I am sure," she interrupts " and you must be. 
 I wish to be treated in this matter exactly as if I 
 were a man. I wish I were one ! " 
 
 " I doubt if you d get most men to agree with 
 you in that wish," I says. " However, never mind. 
 I ll do my best to get Mr. Jacobs, my partner, to 
 say Yes to your proposal. And I hope you ll do 
 fust-rate, even if we are what you call rivals. Drop 
 in any time, Miss Georg Georgianna, I mean." 
 
 We shook hands and she went away. I went as 
 fur as the platform with her. When I turned to go 
 in again I noticed Dolph Cahoon starin after her, 
 with his eyes and mouth open. 
 
 " Gosh ! " says he, grinnin . " By gosh ! She s 
 a peach! Ain t she, Cap n Zeb? " 
 
 "Maybe so," says I, pretty short; " but I don t 
 recollect that we hired you as a judge of fruit. Has 
 that broom took root in the dirt on this platform? 
 Or what is the matter?" 
 
 251
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WHAT CAME THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 JACOBS come in late that afternoon. 
 " Say," says he, " there was a sample of the 
 Eureka screen in Parkinson s office when I was 
 there just now. He wouldn t say who left it or 
 anything about it. When I asked he grinned and 
 winked. That s all. Confound his fat head! Do 
 you know where it came from?" 
 
 "I can guess," I says; and then I told him the 
 whole yarn. He was as surprised as I was to find 
 out that Geo. Lentz was a female; but it only made 
 him madder than ever if such a thing s possible. 
 
 " Wants to be treated like a man, does she? " he 
 says. "All right; we ll treat her like one. She 
 may be Georgianna, but she ll get just what was 
 comin to George." 
 
 Then you won t agree to puttin in the bids and 
 lettin it go at that? " 
 
 " I ll agree to get that screen contract, all right! " 
 says he, emphatic. 
 
 I was kind of sorry for Miss Lentz ; but Jim Henry 
 was my partner, so there wa n t nothin more fco be 
 
 252
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 said. We didn t mention the subject again for two 
 days. However, I did hear from the Eureka agent 
 durin that time. Twas Dolph that I got my news 
 of her from. I was tellin Mary Blaisdell about her 
 and Cahoon happened to be standin by. 
 
 " So she boards here in Ostable," says Mary. " I 
 wonder where." 
 
 Afore I could answer Dolph spoke up. " She s 
 stoppin at Maria Berry s, down on the Neck Road," 
 he says. 
 
 " How did you know? " I asked. 
 
 He looked sort of silly. " Oh, I found out," says 
 he, and walked off. 
 
 The very next evenin , as I was strollin along the 
 sidewalk, smokin my good-night pipe, I happened 
 to see somebody turn the corner from the Neck Road 
 and hurry by me. I thought his gait and build were 
 pretty familiar, so I turned and followed. When he 
 got abreast the lighted windows of the billiard saloon 
 I recognized him. Twas Dolph, all togged out in 
 his Sunday-go-to-meetin duds, light fall overcoat 
 and all. 
 
 "Humph!" says I to myself. " So that s how 
 you knew, hey? Been callin on her, have you? 
 Well, she may not hanker for my sympathy, but she 
 has it just the same. I swan, I thought she had bet 
 ter taste! I m surprised! " 
 
 The followin mornin , however, I was more sur- 
 
 253
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 prised still. I had an errand that made me late at 
 the store. When I came in who should I see talkin 
 together but Jacobs and a young woman; the young 
 woman was Miss Georgianna Lentz. They ought 
 to have been quarrelin , cordin to all reasonable 
 expectations; but they wa n t. Fact is, they seemed 
 as friendly as could be. You d have thought they 
 was old chums to see em. 
 
 Georgianna sighted me fust. 
 
 " Good mornin , Cap n Snow," says she. " Mr. 
 Jacobs and I have made each other s acquaintance, 
 you see." 
 
 " Yes," says I, doubtful. " I see you have. I 
 cal late you think it s kind of unreasonable, our 
 not" 
 
 Jim Henry cut in ahead of me quick as a flash. 
 
 " Miss Lentz and I have been goin over the mat 
 ter of screens for Parkinson s hotel," he says. " I 
 tell her that her proposition suits us down to the 
 ground." 
 
 Over I went on my beam-ends again. All I could 
 think of to say was: "Hey?" and I said that 
 pretty feeble. 
 
 " It is very nice of you to do this," says Georgi 
 anna. " It makes it so much easier for me. Of 
 course, when I decided to make business my life- 
 work, I realized that I might be called upon to do 
 disagreeable things like like wire-pullin , and so 
 
 254
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 on, which some business people do; but honorable 
 rivalry is so much better, isn t it? " 
 
 " Sure ! " says Jacobs, prompt. " Yes, indeed." 
 
 " So it is all settled," she went on. " Our bids 
 are to go in on the same day; and meantime neither 
 of us is to call on Mr. Parkinson or to meet him 
 in a business way, I mean." 
 
 I nodded, bein still too upset to talk; but Jim 
 Henry spoke quick and prompt. 
 
 " What do you mean," he asks " in a business 
 way?" 
 
 Why," says she and it seemed to me that she 
 reddened a little "I mean that well, if we 
 should meet him by accident we wouldn t talk about 
 screens or the hotel contract. Of course one can t 
 help meetin people sometimes. For instance, I 
 happened to meet Mr. Parkinson yesterday. He 
 had driven over and happened to be in the vicinity 
 of the house where I board. I was goin out for 
 a walk, and he stopped his horse and spoke." 
 
 " Oh," says I, " he did, hey ? " Jim Henry didn t 
 say nothin . 
 
 " Yes," she says; " but I didn t talk about the con 
 tract. Though our agreement wasn t actually made 
 then, I hoped that it would be. Good mornin ; I 
 must be goin ." 
 
 She started for the door, but she turned to say 
 one more thing. 
 
 255
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " Of course," she says, decided, " it is understood 
 that you haven t agreed to my proposal simply be 
 cause I am a girl. If that was the case I shouldn t 
 permit it. I insist upon bein* treated exactly as if 
 I were a man. You must promise that both of 
 you." 
 
 " Sure ! Sure ! That s understood," says Jacobs. 
 
 I said " Sure ! " too, but my tone wa n t quite so 
 sartin. She went out, Jim Henry goin with her 
 as fur as the door. I follered him. 
 
 " Say," says I, " next time you turn a back somer 
 set like this I d like to know about it in advance. 
 I ve got a weak heart." 
 
 He didn t answer me at all. He was starin down 
 the road, just as Dolph had stared when the Eureka 
 agent called the fust time. 
 
 " Say, Jim " says I. He didn t turn or move; 
 didn t seem to hear me. I touched him on the shoul 
 der and he jumped and come about. 
 
 "Eh what?" he says. 
 
 " Nothin ," says I, " only I want to know why 
 that s all." 
 
 "Why?" says he. "Oh! you mean what 
 made me change my mind? Well, I just thought it 
 over and decided we might as well agree. Agreein 
 don t do any harm, you know. Hey, Skipper? 
 Ha-ha ! " 
 
 He slapped me on the shoulder and laughed. 
 256
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 The laugh seemed too big for the joke and sounded 
 a little mite forced, I thought. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! Ha-ha ! " says I. " But your 
 changin from lion to lamb so sudden " 
 
 "What are you talkin about? I ve got a right 
 to change my mind, ain t I ? " 
 
 " Sartin sure. But you was so set on gettin that 
 contract." 
 
 " Well, I ain t said I wasn t goin to get it, have 
 I? WVre goin to put in a bid, ain t we? What s 
 the matter with you? " 
 
 " Nothin at all ; but your breakfast don t seem to 
 have set extry well ! However, it takes two to make 
 a row, and I m peaceful, myself. What do you 
 think of the rival entry? Kind of a nice-appearin 
 girl don t you think so? " 
 
 He whirled round and looked at me as if he 
 thought I was crazy. 
 
 " Nice-appearin ! " he says. " Nice-ap Why, 
 she s" 
 
 Then he pulled up short and headed for the back 
 room. 
 
 Nothin of much importance happened for a while 
 after that. And yet there was somethin two or 
 three somethin s that had a bearin on the case. 
 One was the change in Dolph Cahoon. For a few 
 days after that night I met him on the road he was 
 as gay and chipper as a blackbird in a pear tree 
 
 257
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 happy even when I made him work, which was sur- 
 prisin enough. And then, all to once, he turned 
 glum and ugly. Wouldn t speak and seemed to be 
 broodin over his troubles all day long. I had my 
 suspicions; and so, one time when him and me was 
 alone, I hove over a little mite of bait just to see 
 if he d rise to it. 
 
 " Seen anything of the Lentz girl lately? " I asked, 
 casual. 
 
 " Naw," says he, " and I don t want to, neither! 
 She s a bird, she is ! Too stuck up to speak to com 
 mon folks. Everybody s gettin on to her you 
 bet ! She won t make many friends in this town." 
 
 I grinned to myself. Thinks I : "I guess, 
 young man, Georgianna s handed you your walkin 
 papers. You won t go down the Neck Road any 
 more!" 
 
 And yet, an evenin or so after that, I see some 
 body go down that road. I didn t see him plain, 
 but I d have almost taken my oath twas Jim Henry 
 Jacobs. It couldn t be, of course and yet 
 
 Well, two days later, I took back the " yet." I 
 happened to be standin at the side door of the store, 
 lookin across the fields, when I saw an auto with 
 two people in it sailin along the crossroad from the 
 east ard. Twas a runabout auto and I looked 
 and looked ! Then I called to Dolph. 
 
 " Dolph," says I, "come here! Who s auto- 
 258
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 mobile s that? If I didn t know Mr. Jacobs was 
 off takin orders in Denboro I should say twas his." 
 
 Dolph looked. 
 
 " Humph! " says he " tis his. He s drivin it 
 himself. But who s that with him? What? Well, 
 by gosh ! if it ain t that stuck-up Georgianna Lentz ! " 
 
 " Get out ! " says I. " The softness of your heart 
 has struck to your head. It s likely he d be takin 
 her to ride, ain t it I " 
 
 And then Jacobs looked up and sighted us standin 
 in the doorway. His machine hadn t been goin 
 slow afore now it fairly jumped off the ground 
 and flew. In a minute there was nothin but a dust- 
 cloud in the offin . 
 
 He came in about noon. I didn t say nothin , 
 but I guess my face was enough. He looked at me, 
 turned away and then turned back again. 
 
 " Well," he says, loud and cheerful, " you saw us, 
 didn t you? I was goin to tell you, anyway, soon 
 as I got the chance." 
 
 " Oh," says I, " I want to know! " 
 
 " Sure, I was. Of course you see through the 
 game." 
 
 "The game?" 
 
 " Why, yes, yes ! The game I m playin the 
 game that s goin to get us that screen contract! 
 Oh, I wasn t born yesterday. I knew a thing or 
 two. This er Lentz girl and you and me have 
 
 259
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 agreed not to go near Parkinson till the contract s 
 given out; but Parkinson ain t promised not to go 
 near her! He s been over there two or three times 
 lately, and that won t do. He s a widower, and " 
 
 "A widower!" I put in. "What s that got to 
 do with it?" 
 
 " Oh, nothin nothin . Just a joke, that s 
 all. But I realized right away that she and he 
 mustn t be together or he ll make her talk screens 
 in spite of herself, and that ll be dangerous for us. 
 So, says I to myself, Jim Henry, says I, * it s up to 
 you. You must keep her out of his way.* That s 
 why I ve been goin to see her once in a while and 
 and takin her to ride, and and so on. See? 
 Oh, I m wise! You trust your old doctor of sick 
 businesses." 
 
 He d been talkin a blue streak. Seemed almost 
 as if he was afraid I d say somethin afore he could 
 say it all. Now he stopped to get his breath and 
 I put in a word. 
 
 "So," says I, slow, "that s why you re doin it, 
 hey? But ain t that You know you promised 
 to treat her just as if she was a man! " 
 
 "Well, ain t I?" he snaps hotter than was 
 needful, I thought. " If she was a man I d make 
 it my business to keep her in sight, wouldn t I? 
 Well, then ! I never saw such a chap as you are for 
 lookin for trouble when there isn t any." 
 
 260
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 He stalked off. I follered him; and as I done so 
 I noticed Dolph Gaboon duck behind the calico 
 counter. I judged he d heard every word. 
 
 The finishin work on the hotel hustled along and 
 inside of a month we got word that twas time to 
 put in our bid. Jacobs and I figured and figured till 
 we got the price down to the last cent we thought 
 it could stand, and then we sent our proposition over 
 to Parkinson by mail. 
 
 " Wonder if Miss Georgianna s sent hers in," I 
 says, casual. 
 
 "Oh, yes," says Jim, prompt; "she is goin to 
 mail it this mornin ." 
 
 I didn t ask him how he knew. His chasin round 
 and keepin watch on a girl who was as fair-minded 
 and square as she was had always seemed too much 
 like spyin to please me, and I cal lated he knew how 
 I felt at any rate he d scurcely spoke her name 
 since the day when I saw em autoin together. But 
 now I did say that, so long as the bids was in, it 
 wouldn t be necessary for him to keep his eye on her 
 any longer. 
 
 He looked at me kind of queer. " Umph ! " he 
 says; "maybe not!" And he walked away to 
 attend to a customer. 
 
 That afternoon he took his car and went off on 
 his reg lar order trip to Denboro and Bayport 
 and round. Dolph Gaboon and I was alone in the 
 
 261
 
 front part of the store. Dolph seemed to be in 
 mighty good spirits for him and kept chucklin 
 to himself in a way I couldn t understand. At last 
 he says to me, lookin back to be sure that Mary 
 Blaisdell, in the post-office department, couldn t 
 hear 
 
 " Cap n Zeb," he says, " what would you give the 
 feller that got the screen contract for you? " 
 
 " Give him ? " I says. " What feller do you mean 
 Parkinson? I wouldn t give him a cent! I 
 ain t a briber and I don t think he s a grafter." 
 
 " I don t mean Parkinson," he says, chucklin . 
 " But, suppose somebody else had been workin for 
 you on the quiet, what would you give him? " 
 I looked him over. 
 
 "Look here, Dolph," says I; "I never try to 
 guess a riddle till I hear the whole of it. What 
 are you drivin at? " 
 
 He grinned. " I know who s goin to get that 
 contract," he says. 
 
 "You do. Who is it?" 
 
 The Ostable Store s goin to get it. Your bid s 
 a little mite the lowest. Parkinson told me so last 
 night." 
 
 " Parkinson told you ! " I sung out. " How did 
 you happen to see Parkinson?" 
 He winked. 
 
 " Oh, I saw him ! " says he. " I ve seen him a 
 262
 
 ain t been sneakin ! he yelled."
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 good many times lately. I made it my business to 
 see him. He was pretty stuck on the Eureka till 
 I got after him and I cal late he d have contracted 
 for Eurekas, bid or no bid. But I put in my licks; 
 I ve drove over to West Ostable four nights and 
 two Sundays in the last fortni t. And didn t I 
 preach Nonesuch to him ! He-he ! You bet I did ! 
 And last night he said he was goin to give us the 
 job. Oh, I fixed that stuck-up Georgianna Lentz ! 
 I got even with her. He-he-he ! " 
 
 I never was madder in my life. I took two steps 
 toward him with my fists doubled up. 
 
 " You whelp ! " says I and then I stopped short. 
 The Lentz girl herself was walkin in at the front 
 door. 
 
 " Good mornin , Cap n Snow," she says, holdin 
 out her hand. She paid no more attention to Dolph 
 than if he d been a graven image. " Good mornin ," 
 says she. " It s a beautiful day, isn t it? " 
 
 I was past carin about the weather. 
 
 " Miss Georgianna," says I, " I m glad you come 
 in. I ve got somethin to tell you. I ve got to beg 
 your pardon for somethin that ain t my fault or 
 Mr. Jacobs , either. You and my partner and me 
 had an agreement not to go nigh Parkinson or try 
 to influence him in any way. Well, unbeknown to 
 me, that agreement has been broke." 
 
 She stared at me, too astonished to speak. 
 263
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " It s been broke," says I. " That that critter 
 there," pointin to Dolph, " has been sneakin " 
 
 Dolph s face had been gettin redder and redder. 
 I cal late he thought I d praise him for his doin s; 
 and when he found I wouldn t, but was goin to give 
 the whole thing away, he blew up like a leaky b iler. 
 
 " I ain t been sneakin ! " he yelled. " And I ain t 
 broke no agreement, neither. You and Mr. Jacobs 
 agreed but I never. I see Parkinson on my own 
 hook; and if it hadn t been for me he wouldn t be 
 goin to give you the contract." 
 
 There twas, out of the bag. I looked at Georgi- 
 anna. Her pretty face went white. That contract 
 meant all creation to her; but she stood up to the 
 news like a major. She was plucky, that girl f 
 
 a Oh!" she says. "Oh! Then he has given 
 you the contract ? I I congratulate you, Cap n 
 Snow." 
 
 " Don t congratulate me," says I. " The contract 
 ain t been given yet, though this pup says it s goin 
 to be; but, as for me, if I d known what was goin 
 on I d have stopped it mighty quick! I m honor 
 able and decent, and so s Jacobs; and we don t take 
 underhanded advantages." 
 
 Dolph bust out from astern of the counter. 
 
 " You don t, hey! " says he. " I want to know! 
 How about Jacobs takin her to ride and callin on 
 her, and pretendin to be dead gone on her? What 
 
 264
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 did he do that for? You know as well as I do. 
 Twas so s to keep a watch on her, and not let 
 Parkinson see her and be influenced into .buyin 
 Eureka screens. You know it ! " 
 
 My own face grew red now, I cal late. 
 
 "You you " I begun. "You miser ble 
 liar" 
 
 " Tain t a lie," says he. " I heard him tell you 
 with my own ears. He said all he was beauin her 
 round for was just that. If that ain t a underhanded 
 trick then I don t know what is." 
 
 I wanted to say lots more; but, afore I could get 
 my talkin machinery to runnin , the Lentz girl her 
 self spoke. 
 
 " Is that true, Cap n Snow? " says she. 
 
 I was set back forty fathom. 
 
 "Well, miss," says I, "I--I " 
 
 " Is that true? " says she. 
 
 I got out my handkerchief and swabbed my fore 
 head. 
 
 " Well, Miss Georglanna," says I, " I ll tell you. 
 Jim Henry Mr. Jacobs, I mean did say some- 
 thin like that; but but Well, you wanted to 
 be treated like a salesman, and er Mr. Jacobs 
 would have kept his eye on a man, you know; and 
 so and so " 
 
 I stopped again. Twas the shoalest water ever 
 I cruised in. All I could do was mop away with the 
 
 265
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 handkerchief and look at Georgianna. And she 
 well, the color, and plenty of it, begun to come back 
 to her cheeks. And how her brown eyes did 
 flash! 
 
 " I see," she says, slow and so frosty I pretty nigh 
 shivered. "I see ! " 
 
 "Well," says I, " tain t anything I m proud of, 
 I will admit; but " 
 
 " One moment, if you please. You haven t actu 
 ally got the contract yet?" 
 
 " No. As I told you, all I know is what this con- 
 sarned fo mast hand of mine says. For what he s 
 done, I m ashamed as I can be. As for Mr. Jacobs, 
 I know he did keep to the letter of the agreement, 
 anyhow. For the rest Well, all s fair in love 
 and war, they say and there s precious little love 
 in business." 
 
 She looked at me, with a queer little smile about 
 the corners of her lips, though her eyes wa n t smilin , 
 by a consider ble sight. 
 
 "Isn t there?" she says. "I I wonder. 
 Good-by, Cap n Snow. You might tell Mr. Jacobs 
 not to order those Nonesuch screens just yet." 
 
 Out she went; and for the next five minutes I had 
 a real enjoyable time. I told Dolph Cahoon just 
 what I thought of him that took four of the min 
 utes; durin the other one I fired him and run him 
 out of the office by the scruff of the neck. 
 
 266
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 Then Mary Blaisdell and me held officers council, 
 and that ended by our decidin not to tell Jim Henry 
 that the Lentz girl knew why he d been so friendly 
 with her. It wouldn t do any good and might make 
 him feel bad. Besides, the contract was as good as 
 got, cordin to Dolph s yarn; and twa n t likely 
 he d see Georgianna again, anyway. When he come 
 back I told him I d fired Cahoon for bein no good 
 and sassy, and he agreed I d done just right. 
 
 When I said good night to him he was chipper 
 as could be ; but next day he was blue as a whetstone 
 and the blueness seemed to strike in, so to speak. 
 He didn t take any interest in anything moped 
 round, glum and ugly; and I couldn t get him to talk 
 at all. If I mentioned the screen contract he shut 
 up like a quahaug, and only once did he give an 
 opinion about it. That opinion was a surprisin one, 
 though. 
 
 Alpheus Perkins was in the store, and says he : 
 
 " Say, Mr. Jacobs," he says, " is old Parkinson, 
 the hotel man, cal latin to get married again? I 
 see him out ridin with a girl yesterday? That 
 female screen drummer that Georgianna Lentz, 
 twas. She s a daisy, ain t she ! I don t blame him 
 much for takin a shine to her." 
 
 Jim Henry didn t make any answer; but, knowin 
 what I did, I was a little surprised. 
 
 " Jim," says I, " that contract " 
 267
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " D n the contract ! " says he, and cleared out 
 and left us. 
 
 I was astonished, but I guessed twas a healthy 
 plan to keep my hatches closed. 
 
 When I opened the mail a few mornin s later I 
 found a letter with the West Ostable Hotel s name 
 printed on the envelope. I figgered I knew what 
 was inside. Thinks I : " Here s the acceptance of 
 our bid! " But my figgers was on the wrong side 
 of the ledger. Parkinson wrote just a few words, 
 but they was enough. After considerin the matter 
 careful, he wrote, he had decided the Eureka to be 
 a better screen than the Nonesuch; and, though our 
 bid was a trifle lower, he should give the Eureka 
 folks the contract. 
 
 " Well ! " says I out loud. " Well, I ll be 
 blessed!" 
 
 Jim Henry was settin at his desk we was all 
 alone in the store and he looked up. 
 
 "What are you askin a blessin over?" says he. 
 
 I handed him the letter. He read it through and 
 set for a full minute without speakin . Then he 
 slammed it into the wastebasket and got up and 
 started to go away. 
 
 " For thunder sakes! " I sung out. ; What ails 
 you ? Ain t you goin to say nothin at all ? " 
 
 "What is there to say?" he asked, gruff. 
 " We re stung and that s the end of it." 
 
 268
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 " But but don t you realize Why, our 
 bid was the lowest! And yet the contract " 
 
 He whirled on me savage. 
 
 " Didn t I tell you," says he, " that I didn t give 
 a durn about the contract?" 
 
 "You don t! You don t! Then who on airth 
 does?" 
 
 " I don t know and I don t care ! " 
 
 " You don t care ! I swan to man ! Why, twas 
 you that swore you d put the screens in that hotel 
 or die tryin . You said twas a matter of principle 
 with you. And now that the Eureka folks have 
 beat us by some shenanigan or other for our bid 
 was lower than theirs you say you don t care! 
 Have you gone loony? What do you care 
 about?" 
 
 " Nothin much," says he, and flopped down in 
 his chair again. 
 
 I stared at him. All at once I begun to see a 
 light. You d have thought anybody that wa n t 
 stone blind would have seen it afore but I hadn t. 
 You see, I caPlated that I knew him from trunk to 
 keelson, and so it never once occurred to me. I riz 
 and walked over to him. Just as I done so, I heard 
 the front door open and shut, but I figgered twas 
 Mary comin back, and didn t even look. I laid my 
 hand on his shoulder. 
 
 " Jim," says I, " I guess likely I understand. I 
 269
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 declare I m sorry! And yet I wouldn t wonder 
 if" 
 
 I didn t go on. He wa n t payin any attention, 
 but was lookin over the top of his desk lookin 
 with all the eyes in his head. I looked, too, and 
 caught my breath with a jerk. The person who d 
 come in wa n t Mary Blaisdell, but Georgianna 
 Lentz. 
 
 She saw us and walked straight down to where we 
 was. She was kind of pale and her eyes looked as 
 if she d been awake all night; but when she spoke 
 twas right to the point there wa n t any hesitation 
 about her. 
 
 " Cap n Snow," says she, " have you heard from 
 Mr. Parkinson?" 
 
 "Yes," says I, wonderin; "we ve heard. We 
 don t understand exactly, but perhaps that ain t 
 necessary. I cal late all there is left for us to do 
 is to offer congratulations and go way back and 
 set down, as the boys say. You ve got the con 
 tract." 
 
 " Yes," she says; "it has been given to me. 
 But " 
 
 Jim Henry stood up. " You ll excuse me," he 
 says, sharp. " I m busy." 
 
 He started to go, but she stopped him. 
 
 " No," she says; " I want you both to hear what 
 I ve got to say. Mr. Parkinson gave me the con- 
 
 270
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 tract yesterday; but I have decided not to take 
 it." 
 
 We both looked at her. 
 
 "You you ve what?" says I. "Not take it? 
 You want it, don t you ? " 
 
 " Yes," she says, quiet but determined, " I want 
 it or I did want it very, very much. It meant 
 so much to me now and might mean a great 
 deal more in the future ; but I can t take it." 
 
 This was too many for me. I looked at Jacobs. 
 He didn t say a word. 
 
 " I can t take it," says Georgianna, " under the 
 circumstances. I don t feel that I got it fairly. We 
 agreed, you and I, that no personal influence should 
 be brought to bear upon Mr. Parkinson; and I " 
 she blushed a little, but kept right on " I have seen 
 Mr. Parkinson several times durin the past week." 
 
 I thought of her bein to ride with the hotel man, 
 but I didn t say anything. Jim Henry, though, 
 started again to go. And again she stopped him. 
 
 " Wait, please! " she went on. e I didn t go to 
 him you must understand that! But after what 
 you, Cap n Snow, and that Mr. Gaboon told me the 
 other day I was hurt and angry. I felt that you had 
 broken your agreement with me. So when Mr. 
 Parkinson came to see me I didn t arak* him as I 
 had been doin . I I accepted invit a<Kons for 
 drives with him, and and Oh, dorA you see ? 
 
 271
 
 I couldn t take the contract. I couldn t! What 
 would you think of me? What would I think of 
 myself? No, my mind is made up. I m afraid " 
 with a half smile that had more tears than fun in it 
 " that my experience in business hasn t been a success. 
 I shall give it up and go back to stenography or 
 somethin . There ! Good-by. I m sure that the 
 Nonesuch screen will win now. Good-by! " 
 
 And now twas she that started to go and Jim 
 Henry that stopped her. 
 
 Wait!" says he, sharp. "There s somethin 
 here I don t understand. What do you mean by 
 what the Cap n and Cahoon told you the other day? 
 Skipper, what have you been doin ? " 
 
 I wished there .was a crack or a knothole handy 
 for me to crawl into; but there wa n t, so I braced 
 up best I could. 
 
 " Why, Jim," says I, " I ain t told you the whole 
 of that business I fired Dolph for. Seems he d been 
 seein Parkinson on his own hook and pullin wires 
 for the Nonesuch. Twas a sneakin mean trick, 
 and I knew twould make you mad same as it done 
 me; so I didn t tell you. Twas for that I bounced 
 him." 
 
 Jim Henry s fists shut. 
 
 " The toad! " says he. " I wish I d been there. 
 Wait till I get my hands on him ! I ll " 
 
 " But you mustn t," put in Georgianna. " I hope 
 272
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 you don t think I care what such a creature as he 
 might do. When I first came here he Oh, why 
 can t people forget that I m a girl ! " 
 
 I could have answered that, but I didn t. Jacobs 
 asked another question. 
 
 " Then, if it wa n t Dolph, who was it? " says he. 
 "Parkinson?" 
 
 " No ! " with a flash of her eyes. " Certainly not. 
 Mr. Parkinson is a gentleman; but but I don t 
 like him that is, I don t dislike him exactly; 
 but" 
 
 She was dreadful fussed up. Jim Henry was 
 between her and the door, though, and he kept right 
 on with his questions. 
 
 " Then what was the trouble? " he said, brisk. 
 
 I answered for her. 
 
 " Well, Jim," says I, " there was somethin else. 
 You see, Dolph got mad when I sailed into him, and 
 he come back at me by tellin what you said about 
 your callin on Miss Lentz here and takin her 
 autoin and such. How you said you was doin it 
 so s to keep a watch on her that s all. I couldn t 
 deny that you did say it, you know because you 
 did!" 
 
 Jim s face was a sight to see a sort of combina 
 tion of sheepishness and shame, mixed with another 
 look, almost of joy or as if he d got the answer to 
 3. puzzle that had been troublin him. 
 
 273
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 The Lentz girl spoke up quick. 
 
 " Of course," she says, " I understand now why 
 you did it. Then I was was Well, it did 
 hurt me to think that I hadn t seen through the 
 scheme, and for a while I felt that you hadn t been 
 true to our agreement; but, now that I have had 
 time to think, I understand. You promised to treat 
 me exactly as if I were a man; and, as Cap n Snow 
 said, if I were a man you would have kept me in 
 sight. It s all right ! But " with a sigh " I 
 realize that I m not fitted for business this kind of 
 business. I don t blame you, though. Good-by. 
 I must go! " 
 
 Lettin her go, however, was the last thing Jim 
 intended doin just then. He stepped for ard and 
 caught her by the hand. 
 
 " Georgianna," says he, eager, " you know what 
 you re sayin isn t true. I did tell the Cap n that 
 yarn about watchin you. He d seen me with you 
 and I had to tell him somethin ; but it was a lie 
 every word of it! You know it was." 
 
 She tried to pull her hand away, but he hung on 
 to it as if twas the last life-preserver on a sinkin 
 ship. I cal late he d forgot I was on earth. 
 
 " You were keeping your promise," she said. 
 " You were treatin me as you would if I were a 
 man! Please let me go, Mr. Jacobs; I have told 
 you that I didn t blame you." 
 
 274
 
 THROUGH THE SCREEN 
 
 "Nonsense!" says he. "If I had done that I 
 ought to be hung ! A man ! Treat you like a man ! 
 Do you suppose if you were a man I should " 
 
 That was the last word I heard. I was bound 
 for the front platform, and makin some headway for 
 a craft of my age and build. I have got some sense 
 and I know when three s a crowd! 
 
 I didn t go back until they called me. I give the 
 pair of em one look and then I shook hands with em 
 up to the elbows. Georgianna was blushin , and her 
 eyes were damp, but shinin like masthead lights on 
 a rainy night. As for Jim Henry Jacobs, he was 
 one broad grin. 
 
 " Well," says I, after I d said all the joyful things 
 I could think of, " one point ain t settled even yet 
 who s goin to get that screen contract? There ain t 
 any love in business, you know." 
 
 " Humph! " says Jim Henry. " I wonder! " 
 
 I laughed out loud. 
 
 " Why," says I, " that s exactly what Georgianna 
 here said t other day she wondered ! " 
 
 275
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE EPISTLE TO ICHABOD 
 
 MARY came in a few minutes later and she 
 had to be told the news. She was as 
 pleased as I was and there was more con- 
 gratulatin . Then Georgianna had to go home and, 
 as she was altogether too precious to be allowed 
 to walk, Jim Henry went and got his auto and they 
 left in that. 
 
 When he got back that car must have been 
 sufferin from a stroke of creepin paralysis, for it 
 took him two hours to run that little distance he 
 and I had a good confidential talk. He was way up 
 above this common earth, soarin around in the 
 clouds, and all he wanted to talk was Georgianna. 
 The whole of creation had been set to music and was 
 clancin to the one tune " Georgianna." 
 
 It was astonishin to me who had been in the habit 
 of considerin him just a sharp, up-to-date buyer and 
 seller, a man whose whole soul was wrapped up in 
 business with no room in it for anything else. I 
 found myself lookin at him and wonderin : " Is 
 the world comin to an end, I wonder? Is this my 
 
 276
 
 THE EPISTLE TO ICHABOD 
 
 partner? Is this moon-struck critter Jim Henry 
 Jacobs, doctor of sick businesses? " 
 
 I couldn t help jokin him a little. 
 
 " Jim," says I, " for a feller who hadn t any use 
 for females you re doin pretty well, I must say. 
 Either you was mistaken In your old opinions or your 
 new ones are wrong. Which is it? Women and 
 business don t mix, you know. That ain t an orig 
 inal notion; that is quoted from the Gospel accord 
 ing to Jacobs, Chapter 1,000; two hundred and 
 eightieth verse." 
 
 He reddened up and laughed. " Well, they don t 
 mix, as a general thing," he says. " I guess twas 
 Georgianna s sand in goin into business that got me 
 in the first place. I leave it to you, Skipper ain t 
 she a wonder? Now be honest, ain t she? " 
 
 Course I said she was; I have the usual sane man s 
 regard for my head and I didn t want it knocked off 
 yet awhile. And Georgianna was as nice a girl as 
 I ever saw that is, almost as nice. Jim went 
 sailin on, about how now he could settle down and 
 live like a white man in a home of his own, about 
 the house he was goin to build, and so forth and 
 etcetery. I declare it made me feel almost jealous 
 to hear him. 
 
 " My! my! " says I, kind of spiteful, I m afraid v 
 " you have got it bad, ain t you ! Sudden attacks 
 are liable to be the most acute, I suppose." 
 
 277
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 He laughed again. You couldn t have made him 
 mad just then. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " says he. " Yes, I guess I m way past 
 where there s any hope for me. But I m glad of it. 
 It did come sudden, but that s the way most good 
 things come to me. It s my nature. Now if I was 
 like some folks that I won t name, I d be mopin 
 around for months without sense enough to know 
 what ailed me." 
 
 "Who are you diggin at?" I wanted to know. 
 He wouldn t tell; said twas a secret, and maybe 
 I d find out the answer for myself some day. 
 
 The next few weeks was busy times, in the store 
 and out of it. Georgianna havin declined the screen 
 contract, Parkinson gave it to us, after a little 
 arguin . That kept me hustlin , for Jim was too 
 interested in other things to care for screens. He 
 was making arrangements to be married. 
 
 And married he and Georgianna were. She d 
 have waited a little longer, I cal late that bein a 
 woman s way if it had been left to her to name the 
 time; but Jim Henry never was the waitin kind. 
 They were married at the parson s and Mary Blais- 
 dell and I saw the splice made fast. Then we went 
 to the depot and said good-by to Mr. and Mrs. Jim 
 Henry Jacobs. They were goin on a honeymoon 
 cruise to the West Indies that would last two months. 
 
 Good-byes ain t ever pleasant to say, but I was so 
 278
 
 THE EPISTLE TO ICHABOD 
 
 glad for Jim, and so happy because he was, that I 
 tried to be as chipper as I could. 
 
 " If you need me, wire at Havana, Skipper," he 
 says. " I ll come the minute you say the word." 
 
 " I sha n t need you," I told him. " Mary and 
 I ll run things as well as we can. She makes a good 
 fust mate, Mary does." 
 
 " You bet! " says he. " I feel a little conscience- 
 struck to leave you just now, with that West End 
 crowd tryin to make trouble for you, but Congress 
 man Shelton is your friend and he ll look out for you 
 in Washin ton." 
 
 " Don t you worry about that," I says. " I ain t 
 scared of Bill Phipps or Ike Hamilton much, or 
 any of their West End crew. The decent folks in 
 town are on my side, and with Shelton to back me up 
 at Washin ton, I cal late I ll keep my job till you come 
 back anyhow." 
 
 The train started and Mary and I waved till 
 twas out of sight. Then we went back to the store. 
 I give in that the old feelin , the feelin that I d had 
 when Jim was sick out West, that of bein adrift 
 without an anchor, was hangin around me a little, 
 but I braced up and vowed to myself that I d do 
 the best I could. If this post-office row did get dan 
 gerous, I might telegraph for Jacobs, but I wouldn t 
 till the ship was founderin . 
 
 I suppose you can always get up an opposition 
 279
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 party. There was one amongst the Children of 
 Israel in Moses s time, and there s been plenty ever 
 since. So long as somebody has got somethin 
 there ll always be somebody else to want to get it 
 away from him. That s human nature, and there s 
 as much human nature in Ostable, size considered, 
 as there was in the Land of Canaan. 
 
 I d been postmaster at Ostable for quite a spell. I 
 didn t try for the position, I was mad when twas 
 given to me, there wa n t much of anything in it but 
 a lot of fuss and trouble, and I d said forty times over 
 that I wished I didn t have it. But when the gang 
 up at the West End of the town set out to take it 
 away from me I r ared up on my hind legs and swore 
 I d fight for my job till the last plank sunk from 
 under me. Don t sound like sense, does it? It 
 wa n t twas just more human nature. 
 
 Course the opposition wa n t large and twa n t 
 very influential. Old man William Phipps and 
 young Ike Hamilton was at the head of it, and they 
 had forty or fifty West-Enders to back em up. 
 Phipps had been one of the leading workers for 
 Abubus Payne, the chap I beat for the app intment 
 in the fust place; and young Hamilton was junior 
 partner in the firm of " Ichabod Hamilton & Co., 
 Stoves, Tinware and Fishermen s Supplies," a mile 
 or so up the main road. Young Ike everybody 
 called him " Ike," though his real name was Ichabod, 
 
 280
 
 same as his uncle s was a pushin critter, who d 
 come back from a Boston business college and had 
 started right in to make the town sit up and take 
 notice. He was goin to get rich he admitted that 
 much and he cal lated to show us hayseeds a few 
 things. Up to now he hadn t showed much but 
 loud clothes and cheek, but he had enough of them to 
 keep all hands interested for a spell. 
 
 His uncle, Ichabod, Senior, was a shrewd old 
 rooster, with twenty thousand or so that, accordin 
 to his brags he was always tellin of it he d 
 put away for a " rainy day." We have consider ble 
 clamp weather at the Cape, but twould have taken a 
 Noah s Ark flood to make Ichabod s purse strings 
 loosen up. That twenty thousand dollars had 
 growed fast to his nervous system and when you 
 pulled away a cent he howled. Young Ike was the 
 only one that could mesmerize this old man into 
 spendin anything, and how he did it nobody knew. 
 But he did. Since he got into that Stoves and Tin 
 ware firm the store had been fixed up and adver 
 tisements put in the papers, and I don t know what 
 all. The uncle had been under the weather with 
 rheumatism for a year; maybe that explained a little. 
 
 Anyhow twas young Ike that picked himself to 
 be postmaster instead of me and he and Phipps 
 got the West-Enders, fifty or so of em, to sign a 
 petition askin that a new app intment be made. I 
 
 281
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 couldn t be removed except on charges, so a lot of 
 charges was made. Fust, the post-office, bein in 
 the Ostable Grocery, Dry Goods, Boots and Shoes 
 and Fancy Goods Store, was too far from the center 
 of the town. Second, I was neglectin the office 
 and my assistant Mary, that is was really doin 
 the whole of the government work. There was some 
 truth in this, because Mary knew a good deal more 
 about mail work than I did, and was as capable a 
 woman as ever lived; and besides, Jim Henry and 
 I had been so busy with our store and the " Windmill 
 Restaurant," and our other by-product ventures, that 
 I had left Mary to run the post-office. But it was 
 run better than any post-office ever was run afore 
 in Ostable and everybody with brains knew it. 
 
 Third . . . But never mind the rest of the 
 charges, they didn t amount to anything. In fact, 
 there was so little to em that when the West End 
 petition went in to Washin ton, I didn t take the 
 trouble to send one of my own, though Jacobs 
 thought I d better and a hundred folks asked me to 
 and said they d sign. I just wrote to the Post-office 
 Department and told them that I was ready to sub 
 mit my case, if there was any need for it, and if they 
 cared to send a representative to investigate, I d be 
 tickled to death to see him. They wrote back that 
 they d look into the matter, and that s the way it 
 stood when Jim and Georgianna left and it stayed 
 
 282
 
 THE EPISTLE TO ICHABOD 
 
 so until the lost letter affair run me bows fust onto 
 the rocks and turned the situation from ridiculousness 
 into something that looked likely to be mighty serious 
 for me. 
 
 It come about same as such jolts generally come 
 when I was least ready for it. Jim Henry had 
 been gone three weeks or more. Twas February 
 and none of my influential friends amongst the sum 
 mer folks was on hand to help. No, Mary and I 
 were all alone and sailin free with what looked like 
 a fair wind, when " Bump 1 " all at once our craft 
 was half full of water and sinkin fast. 
 
 That mornin the mail was a little mite late and 
 there wa n t any store trade to speak of. Mary was 
 in the post-office place writin , the usual gang of 
 loafers was settin around the stove, and I was out 
 front talkin with Sim Kelley, who lived up to the 
 west end of the town, amongst the mutineers. 
 Twas from Sim that I got most of my news about 
 the doin s of the Phipps and Hamilton crowd. He 
 was a great, hulkin , cross-eyed lubber, too lazy to 
 get out of his own way, and as shif less as a body 
 could be and take pains enough to live. 
 
 " Sim," says I to him, " I thought you said old 
 man Hamilton was in bed with his rheumatiz. I 
 saw him up street as I was comin by. He looked 
 pretty feeble, but he was toddlin along on foot just 
 as he always does. Rheumatic or not, it s all the 
 
 283
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 same. I cal late the old critter wouldn t spend 
 enough money to hire a team if he was dyin ." 
 
 Sim was surprised, and not only surprised, but, 
 seemingly, a little mite worried. Why he should 
 be worried because Ichabod was takin chances with 
 his diseases I couldn t see. 
 
 "Old man Hamilton!" says he. "Is he out a 
 cold mornin like this? Where was he bound? " 
 
 " Don t know," says I. " He stopped into the 
 drug store when I saw him. Whether that was his 
 final port of call or not I don t know." 
 
 He seemed to be thinkin it over. Then he got 
 up and walked to the door. 
 
 " He ain t in sight nowheres," he says. " Guess 
 he wa n t comin as far as here, tain t likely." 
 
 "Well," says I, "how s the rest of the family? 
 The hopeful leader of the forlorn hope how s 
 he?" 
 
 " Ike? " he says. " Oh, he s all right. He s a 
 mighty smart young feller, Ike is." 
 
 Yes," says I, " so I ve heard him say. Gettin 
 ready to stand in with him when he gets my job, 
 are you, Sim ? " 
 
 That shook him up a mite. Twas common talk 
 around town that Sim and Ike was pretty thick. He 
 turned red under his freckles. 
 
 " No, no ! " he sputtered. " Course I ain t ! I m 
 standin by you, Cap n Snow, and you know it. But, 
 
 284
 
 THE EPISTLE TO ICHABOD 
 
 all the same, Ike s a smart boy. He s gettin rich 
 fast, Ike is." 
 
 "Sold another cookstove, has he?" 
 
 " He sells a lot of em. Sold two last month. 
 But that ain t it. He s got foresight and friends in 
 the stock exchange up to Boston. He s buyin cop 
 per stocks and they " 
 
 He stopped short; thought his tongue was runnin 
 away with him, I presume likely. But I was inter 
 ested and I kept on. 
 
 " Oh ! " says I ; " he s buyin coppers, is he ? Well, 
 where does he get the U. S. coppers to do it with? 
 Is Uncle Ichabod backin him? Has the old man s 
 rheumatiz struck to his brains?" 
 
 " Course he ain t backin him. He don t know 
 nothin of stocks. He ain t up-to-date same as 
 Ike. But he ll be glad enough when his nephew 
 makes fifty thousand. When he finds that out 
 he ll " 
 
 " He ll never find it out on this earth," I cut in. 
 " If he found out that Ike made fifty dollars, all on 
 his own hook, he d drop dead with heart disease. 
 If he didn t, everybody else in town would. But 
 it takes money to buy stocks, don t it ? I never knew 
 Ike had any cash of his own." 
 
 " He s in the firm, ain t he ! And Hamilton and 
 Co. are ... Hello ! here comes the depot 
 wagon." 
 
 285
 
 Sure enough, twas the depot wagon with the mail. 
 I took the bags from the driver and went back to 
 help Mary sort. I d taken to helpin her a good 
 deal lately more since Jacobs left than ever afore. 
 She said there wa n t any need of it, but I didn t 
 agree with her. Of course I realized that I was 
 an old fool but, somehow or other, I felt more 
 and more contented with life when I was alongside 
 of Mary. She and I understood each other and 
 I d come to depend upon her same as a man might 
 on his sister or his well, or anybody, you under 
 stand, that he thought a good deal of and knew was 
 square and and so on. And she seemed to feel 
 the same way about me. 
 
 We sorted the mall together, puttin it in the dif 
 ferent boxes and such. And almost the fust thing 
 I run across was that registered letter addressed to 
 " Ichabod Hamilton, Jr." Twas a long envelope 
 and up in one corner of it was printed the name of 
 a Boston broker s firm. I laid it out by itself and 
 went on sortin . 
 
 When the sortin and distributin was over and the 
 crowd had gone, I called to Sim Kelley. We didn t 
 have Rural Free Delivery then and Sim carried the 
 West End mail box; that is, a lot of the folks up 
 that way chipped in and paid him so much for deliv- 
 
 erin 
 
 u 
 
 Sim," says I, " there s a registered letter here 
 286
 
 THE EPISTLE TO ICHABOD 
 
 for young Ike Hamilton. If I give it to you will 
 you be careful and see that he signs the receipt and 
 the like of that? " 
 
 He was outside the partition and he come to the 
 little window and took the letter from me. He 
 acted mighty interested. 
 
 " Gosh ! " says he, grinnin , " I wouldn t wonder 
 if this was . . . Humph! Oh, I ll be careful 
 of it! don t you worry about that." 
 
 Just then Mary called to me. I went over to 
 where she was settin at her desk. 
 
 " Cap n Zeb," she whispered, " I wouldn t send 
 that letter by Sim. It is important, or it would not 
 be registered, and Sim is so irresponsible. If any 
 thing should happen it would give Mr. Hamilton 
 and the rest such a chance. And they have accused 
 us of bein careless already." 
 
 They had, that was a fact. One or two letters 
 had gone astray durin the past six months and the 
 loss of em was described, with trimmin s, in the 
 West End charges and petition. And Sim was a 
 lunkhead. I thought it over a jiffy and then I called 
 to Kelley once more. He was just comin to the 
 hooks by the door outside the mail-box racks where 
 Mary and I and the store clerk the one we d hired 
 in place of Dolph hung our overcoats and hats. 
 Sim had hung his coat there that mornin . 
 
 " Sim," I said, " let me see that registered letter 
 287
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 of Ike Hamilton s again, will you?" He took it 
 out of his pocket and passed it to me. 
 
 " All right," says I ; " you needn t bother about 
 this. I ll send a notice by you that it s here and Ike 
 can call for it himself. I won t take any chances of 
 your losin it." 
 
 Well, you d ought to have seen him! His face 
 blazed up like a Fourth of July tar-barrel. 
 " Chances ! " he sung out. " What are you talkin 
 about? I cal late I m able to carry a letter without 
 losin it. I ain t a kid." 
 
 " Maybe not," says I, " but you ain t goin to lose 
 this one, kid or not. Here s the notice, all made 
 out." 
 
 " Notice be darned ! " he snarled. " You give 
 me that letter. Hamilton and Co. pay me to carry 
 their mail, don t they? And, besides, Ike told me 
 particular that he was expectin " 
 
 He pulled up short again. 
 
 " Well? " says I. " Heave ahead. What s the 
 rest of it?" 
 
 u Nothin ," he answered, ugly; "but you ve got 
 no right to say I can t carry a letter when I m paid 
 to do it. As for losin things, there s others besides 
 me that lose mail in this town." 
 
 There s no use arguin when a matter s all settled. 
 I handed him the notice and walked off, leavin him 
 standin outside that partition, sore as a scalded cat. 
 
 288
 
 THE EPISTLE TO ICHABOD 
 
 I looked at my watch. Twas twelve o clock, my- 
 dinner time. I walked out to the hook rack, took 
 down my overcoat and put it on. I had the Hamil 
 ton letter in my hand. There wa n t any reason why 
 I should be more worried about that registered letter 
 than any other, but I w r as, just the same. Maybe 
 twas because twas Ike s and he was so anxious to 
 make trouble for me. Somehow or other I couldn t 
 feel safe till he got it and signed the receipt. I 
 thought for a minute and then I decided I d walk 
 up to Hamilton and Co. s and deliver it myself. 
 That decision was foolish, maybe, but I felt better 
 when twas made. I put the letter in the inside 
 pocket of the overcoat I had on, and just as I was 
 doin it Mary come out of the post-office room with 
 her hat on. 
 
 " Oh! " says she, " are you goin out, Cap n Zeb? 
 I thought 
 
 Then I remembered. She d asked to go to din 
 ner fust that day and I d told her of course she could. 
 I begged her pardon and said I d forgot. I d wait 
 till she got back. So, after makin sure that I didn t 
 care, she took her coat from the hook, put it on and 
 went out. 
 
 I took off my overcoat and, just as I did so, some- 
 thin fell on the floor. I stooped and picked it up. 
 I swan to man if it wasn t that pesky Hamilton let 
 ter! Thinks I, "That s funny!" I put my hand 
 
 289
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 into the pocket where it had been and there was a 
 hole right through the linin . Now if there s one 
 thing I m fussy about it is that my pockets are whole. 
 And I knew this one ought to be whole. So I looked 
 at the coat and I m blessed if it was mine at all! 
 Twas Sim Kelley s! Both coats had been hangin 
 together on the hook-rack and both was blue and 
 about the same size. I d been saved by a miracle, 
 as you might say. 
 
 I was comin to feel more and more as if there 
 was some sort of fate about that registered letter. 
 I took it back Into the post-office room, handlin it as 
 careful as if twas solid gold, and laid it down on the 
 sortin bench behind the letter boxes. And then 
 somebody spoke to me through the little window. 
 
 " Cap n Zeb," says Sim Kelley, " there s a man 
 just drove over from Bayport to see you. Come in 
 Gabe Lumley s buggy, he did. His name s Peters 
 and Gabe says he s got some sort of government 
 job." 
 
 " Government job? " says I. And then it flashed 
 through my mind who the feller might be. The 
 Post-office Department had said they might send an 
 investigator. I didn t care for that, but I did wish 
 Sim hadn t seen him. 
 
 " Oh," says I ; " all right. It s the lighthouse 
 inspector, I shouldn t wonder. Guess tain t me he 
 is after. Probably I ain t the Snow he wants to 
 
 290
 
 THE EPISTLE TO ICHABOD 
 
 see; it s Henry Snow over to the Point. Where 
 is he?" 
 
 " Out on the platform," says Sim. I hurried out 
 of the post-office room, lockin the door careful 
 astern of me. The man Peters was just comin into 
 the store. I met him at the front door. We shook 
 hands and he introduced himself. Twas the inves 
 tigator, sure enough. 
 
 " Glad to see you," says I. " I know that may 
 sound like a lie, but, as it happens, it ain t in this 
 case. I ain t got anything to be ashamed of and the 
 sooner the government finds that out the better I ll 
 be pleased." 
 
 He laughed. He was a real good chap, this 
 Peters man, and I took to him right off the reel. 
 We stood there talkin and laughin and says he : 
 
 " Well, Cap n," he says, " I ll tell you frankly 
 that I m not very much worried about the conduct 
 of your office here at Ostable. I ve made some 
 inquiries about you, here and in Washin ton, and the 
 answers are pretty satisfactory. Congressman 
 Shelton seems to be a friend of yours." 
 
 I grinned. " Yes," says I, " but Shelton s preju 
 diced, I m afraid. He and old Major Clark ate a 
 chowder once that I cooked and ever since they ve 
 both swore by me." 
 
 He laughed, though I could see Shelton hadn t 
 told him the yarn. 
 
 291
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 "Humph!" says he, "that s unusual, isn t it? 
 Judgin by some chowders I ve eaten, it would be 
 easier to swear at the cook. Speakin of eatables, 
 though, reminds me that I m hungry. Where s a 
 good place to get a meal around here? " 
 
 " Nowhere," says I, prompt; " not at this season 
 of the year, with the summer dinin -room closed. 
 But, if you ll wait until my assistant gets back, I ll 
 pilot you down to the Poquit House, where I feed, 
 and we ll face the wust together." 
 
 He was willin to risk it, he said, and we walked 
 back and set down in the post-office department. As 
 we left the front door Sim Kelley went out of it, 
 luggin his West-End mail box. Peters and I talked. 
 Seems he hadn t come to the Cape a-purpose to inves 
 tigate me, but he had a job at the Bayport office and 
 had took me in on the way home. After a spell 
 Mary come back and Peters and I headed for the 
 Poquit, where the cold fish balls and warmed-over 
 beans was waitin . 
 
 On the way I saw old man Hamilton, Ike s uncle, 
 totterin along, headin to the west ard this time. I 
 pointed him out to Peters. 
 
 There goes," I says, " one of the fellers that s 
 trying to knock me out of my job." 
 
 "Humph!" says he; "he looks pretty near 
 knocked out himself. Why, he s all bent out of 
 shape." 
 
 292
 
 THE EPISTLE TO ICHABOD 
 
 " Yes," I told him. " Ichabod s bent, but he s 
 far from broke. And a tough old limb like him 
 stands a lot of bendin ." 
 
 I was feelin pretty good. With a square man 
 like this Peters to look into matters, I cal lated I d 
 be postmaster for a spell yet. 
 
 But that afternoon, about three o clock, as we was 
 inside the mail room, Mary at her desk, and Peters 
 alongside of her, goin over the books and papers, 
 and me smokin in a chair nigh the delivery window, 
 Ike Hamilton walked into the store. 
 
 " Afternoon, Snow," says he, pert and important 
 as ever, " I understand there s a registered letter 
 for me. I s pose it is part of your business to refuse 
 to give it to the regular carrier and put me to the 
 trouble of walkin way down here." 
 
 " I s pose tis," says I. 
 
 Yes," he says. " Well, if you were as careful 
 to put your partic lar friends to the same inconve 
 nience there might not be as much talk about you and 
 your handlin of this office as there is now." 
 
 " Oh, yes, there would," I told him. " There d 
 always be more talk than anything else where you 
 lived, Ike. Want your letter, do you ? " 
 
 He was mad, but he held in pretty well. 
 
 " I do if gettin it won t make you work too 
 hard," he says, sarcastic. " I should hate to see you 
 really work." 
 
 293
 
 " Yes," I says, " the sight of work never was a 
 joy to you, cordin to all accounts. Well, here s 
 your letter." 
 
 I reached down to the sortin table where I d laid 
 the letter at noon time and it wa n t there. 
 
 I hunted that table over. " Mary," says I, " did 
 you put that registered letter of Mr. Hamilton s 
 away somewheres? " 
 
 She looked surprised and, it seemed to me, rather 
 anxious. 
 
 " Why no! " says she; " I haven t touched it." 
 
 Whew! . . . Well, there was a lively hunt 
 in that mail room for the next ten minutes, but it 
 ended in nothin . 
 
 Ike Hamilton s registered letter was gone! 
 
 294
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 HOW IKE S LOSS TURNED OUT TO BE MY GAIN 
 
 THERE S no use dwelling on unpleasantness. 
 And there s no use tellin what Ike Ham 
 ilton said. I d be liable to the law, if I 
 did tell it, and, besides, I ve been away from seafarin 
 so long that my memory for such language ain t as 
 good as twas. Ike wa n t only mad now: he was 
 ha f crazy, and pale and scared-lookin besides. The 
 interview ended by my takin him by the arm and 
 leadin him to the door. 
 
 " You get out of here," I told him, " and I ll leave 
 this door open so s to sweeten the air after you. 
 That letter of yours has turned up missin and I m 
 mighty sorry. I ll find it, though, or die a-tryin . 
 Meanwhile, unless you can behave like a decent 
 human bein which I doubt you ll find it tur- 
 rible unhealthy for you on these premises. Under 
 stand?" 
 
 I cal late he understood, for he waited till he was 
 out of reach afore he answered. Then he turned 
 and snarled at me like a kicked dog. 
 
 " By the Almighty, Zeb Snow," he says, " this is 
 
 295
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 the wust day s work you ever did! That letter s 
 wuth hundreds of dollars to me and I ll sue you for 
 every cent. And, more n that," he says, " this is the 
 last straw that ll break your back as postmaster of 
 this town. You re done! and don t you forget it! " 
 
 I wa n t likely to forget it not to any consid- 
 er ble extent. 
 
 Well, all the rest of that day and for the next two 
 days, Mary and Peters and I hunted high and low 
 for that letter; but we couldn t find it. I was wor 
 ried, Peters was worried, and Mary Blaisdell seemed 
 the most worried of any of us. Ike Hamilton come 
 in every few hours, and, though he blustered and 
 threatened a whole lot, he kept a civil tongue in his 
 head, rememberin , I cal late, what I said to him when 
 I showed him the door. Apparently he hadn t told 
 any of his cronies about his loss, for nobody else said 
 a word about it to me. This was queer, for I ex 
 pected the news would be all over town by this time. 
 
 Peters asked a lot of questions and I done my best 
 to satisfy him. I showed him the exact place where 
 I laid the letter down afore I went to the front of 
 the store to meet him, and he remembered, same as 
 I did, that the door to the mail room was locked 
 when we come back to it. And we d stayed in that 
 room together until Mary came and we went to din 
 ner. Nobody but Mary and I had keys to the room, 
 either. 
 
 296
 
 IKE S LOSS MY GAIN 
 
 Course I thought of Sim Kelley and how mad 
 he was because I took the letter away from him, 
 and Peters and I cross-questioned him pretty sharp. 
 But he told a straight yarn and stuck to it. He 
 hadn t seen the letter since I took it. He d de 
 livered the notice to Ike and Ike had said he d call 
 and get the letter that afternoon. Well, all that 
 seemed to be true, and, besides, there was no way 
 Sim could have got hold of the thing if he d wanted 
 to. 
 
 " No use," says I, when the questionin was over 
 and Sim had cleared out, protestin injured inno 
 cence and almost cryin . " No use," says I, " I car- 
 late he s tellin the truth for once in his life. I 
 guess his skirts are clear." 
 
 " Maybe so," says Peters. " His story is straight 
 enough; but he don t look you in the face; I don t 
 like that." 
 
 "That s nothin ," I said. "He d have to get 
 round the corner to look a body in the face, as cross 
 eyed as he is." 
 
 Mary Blaisdell spoke up then. " If this letter 
 shouldn t be found at all, Mr. Peters," says she, 
 " what effect would it have on Cap n Zeb s position 
 as postmaster? " 
 
 Peters was pretty solemn, and he shook his head. 
 
 Well," he says, " to be perfectly frank with you, 
 Cap n, it might have consider ble effect. From 
 
 297
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 what I ve seen of you and this office, generally 
 speakin , my report to headquarters would be a very 
 favorable one. Your records and accounts are 
 straight and the place is neat and well kept. But 
 your opponent s petition charges that several letters 
 have been lost already. This loss comes at a very 
 bad time and it might be considered serious." 
 
 I d realized all this, but it didn t help me much 
 to hear him say it. I didn t make any answer, but 
 Mary asked another question. 
 
 " But if," she says, slow, u it should turn out that 
 the Cap n was not to blame at all? If someone else 
 had lost that letter? He wouldn t be removed 
 then?" 
 
 " No, certainly not. That is, not if my report 
 counted for anything." 
 
 "I see," says she; and she didn t speak to us 
 again that afternoon. Peters, though, had more 
 questions to ask. What sort of a letter was this, 
 anyhow? And did I have any idea what was in it? 
 
 I told him that I didn t really know much, but, 
 bein a Yankee, I was subject to the guessin habit. 
 Ike Hamilton had been buyin stocks up to Boston 
 and this letter had a broker firm s name printed on 
 the envelope. My guess was that there was some 
 certificates, or such, inside. 
 
 " I see," he says. " That would explain what he 
 said about its value. So he s been speculatin , hey? " 
 
 298
 
 IKE S LOSS MY GAIN 
 
 " So Sim Kelley hinted. But where the money 
 comes from I don t see. Old Ichabod don t furnish 
 it, I ll bet a dollar. The old critter s got cramps in 
 the pocketbook worse than he has in his back." 
 
 " That was the old feller you pointed out to me 
 the other day," he says. " I haven t seen him since. 
 Where is he?" 
 
 " Back in bed with the rheumatiz, so I hear. 
 Guess his cruise down town was too much for him." 
 
 Well, the rest of our talk didn t amount to much 
 and I went home that night pretty blue and dis 
 couraged. I didn t care so much about bein post 
 master, but it hurt my pride to be bounced for bad 
 seamanship. I d never wrecked a craft afore in 
 my life. 
 
 Next mornin I come to the store at my usual time, 
 but Mary was late, for a wonder. When she did 
 come she looked so pale and used up that I was 
 troubled. 
 
 " Mary," says I, " what s the matter? Ain t sick, 
 are you? " 
 
 " Oh, no! " says she. "I I didn t sleep well, 
 that s all. I m all right." 
 
 11 But, Mary," I says, " I " 
 
 " Please excuse me, Cap n Zeb," she cut in. 
 " I m very busy." 
 
 She d never used that tone to me afore, and I was 
 set back about forty mile. Why she should be so 
 
 299
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 frosty I couldn t see. I went out to the platform 
 and paced the quarter deck, thinkin . I was down 
 at the heel anyway, and I thought a whole lot of 
 fool things. I was goin to lose my job and so I 
 s posed that, after all, I d ought to expect my friends 
 to shake me. There s a proverb about rats leavin 
 a leaky vessel. But Mary Blaisdell!! I cal late I 
 come as nigh wishin I was dead as ever I did in my 
 life. 
 
 Twas almost eleven afore the Peters man showed 
 up. He was walkin brisk and smilin a little. 
 
 Well," says I, " you re lookin a heap more 
 chipper than I feel. What are you grinnin about? " 
 
 " Oh, just for instance," he says. " Is Miss 
 Blaisdell in the office?" 
 
 u Guess so. She was awhile ago. Yes, she s 
 there. Why?" 
 
 " I want to see her and you, too. Come on." 
 
 He led the way to the mail room. Mary was 
 there, workin at her books. She looked up when 
 we come in, and her face was whiter than ever. I 
 forgot all about my " rat " thoughts and the rest 
 of it. 
 
 " Mary," says I, anxious, " you are under the 
 weather. Why don t you go home ? " 
 
 She held up her hand and stopped me. 
 
 " Please don t," she says. 
 
 Then, turnin to Peters: "Mr. Peters, I want 
 300
 
 IKE S LOSS MY GAIN 
 
 to speak to you. And to you, too, Cap n Zeb. I 
 I ve got somethin that I must tell you." 
 
 Twa n t so much what she said as the way she said 
 it. I looked at Peters and he looked at me. I cal - 
 late we was both wonderin what sort of lightnin 
 was goin to strike now. 
 
 She didn t leave us to wonder long. She went 
 right on, speakin quick, as if she wanted to get it 
 over with. 
 
 " Mr. Peters," she says, " last night you told me 
 that, if it should be proved that Cap n Zeb had no 
 part in losin that letter, if it wasn t his fault at all, 
 the postmastership wouldn t be taken from him. 
 You meant that, didn t you ? " 
 
 Peters looked queer enough. " Why, yes," he 
 says, "I did. But how " 
 
 " Mr. Peters," she went on, in the same hurried 
 way, " / lost that letter." 
 
 I don t know what Peters did then, but I know 
 that my knees give from under me and I flopped 
 down in the armchair. 
 
 "You? You, Mary!" says I. 
 
 Peters seemed to be as much flabbergasted as I 
 was. He rubbed his forehead. 
 
 You lost it? " he says, slow. 
 
 Yes," says she. " That is, I I destroyed it 
 by accident. It was while you two were at dinner. 
 I was clearin up the sortin table and and puttin 
 
 301
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 the waste paper in the stove. I I must have 
 taken the letter with the other things." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " I sung out. Peters didn t say 
 nothin . 
 
 " Nonsense ! " I said again. You don t know 
 that twas " 
 
 " But I do," she interrupted. "I I saw it 
 burnin and and it was too late to get it out. It 
 was my fault altogether. No one else is to blame 
 at all." 
 
 If I hadn t been settin down already you could 
 have knocked me over with a feather. Twas an 
 accident, of course; anybody might have done such 
 a thing; but what I couldn t understand was why she 
 hadn t told me of it afore. That didn t seem like 
 her at all. 
 
 "Well! "I says;" ***///" 
 
 Peters had transferred his rubbin from his fore 
 head to his chin. 
 
 " Miss Blaisdell," says he, quiet, " why didn t you 
 tell us sooner? " 
 
 "That s all right," I cut in, quick. "I don t 
 blame her for not tellin . I cal lafe that she felt so 
 bad about it that she couldn t make up her mind to 
 tell right off. That was it, wa n t it, Mary? " 
 
 She didn t look up, but sat playin with a pen 
 holder. 
 
 " Yes," she says, " that was it." 
 302
 
 IKE S LOSS MY GAIN 
 
 " All right then," says I. " It was an accident, 
 and if anybody s to blame it s me. I shouldn t have 
 left the letter there." 
 
 Then she looked up. " Of course you re not to 
 blame," she says, awful earnest. " It was my fault 
 entirely. You know it was, Mr. Peters. It was 
 my fault and I must take the consequences. I will 
 resign my place as assistant and " 
 
 " Resign ! " I sung out. " Resign ! Well, I guess 
 not!" 
 
 " But I shall. Of course I shall. Mr. Peters, 
 you see that it wasn t Cap n Snow s fault, don t you? 
 Don t you? " 
 
 " Yes," says Peters, short. 
 
 " Nonsense! " I roared. " He don t see no such 
 thing. Mary, I don t care " 
 
 She held up her hand. " Please don t talk to me 
 now," she begged. " Please not now." 
 
 I looked at Peters. There was a look in his eyes, 
 almost as if he was smilin inside. I could have 
 punched his head for it. 
 
 " But, Mary " I begun. 
 
 " Please don t talk to me," she begged, almost 
 cryin . " Please go away and leave me now. 
 Please." 
 
 I cal late I shouldn t have gone; fact is, I know 
 I shouldn t; but that government investigator put his 
 hand on my arm. 
 
 303
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " Cap n," he says, " come with me." 
 
 " With you ? " I snapped. " Why ? " 
 
 " Because I want you to. It s important. I 
 won t keep you long." 
 
 I went, but he ll never know how much I wanted 
 to kick him. As I shut the door of the mail room 
 I saw poor Mary s head go down on her arms on 
 the desk. 
 
 Peters led me out to the front of the store, where 
 he come to anchor on a shoe-case. 
 
 " Set down," says he, pattin the case alongside 
 of him. 
 
 " I don t feel like settin ," I says, ugly. " And 
 I tell you, Mr. Peters " 
 
 " No," says he, " I m goin to tell you this time. 
 Or, if I m not, the feller I told to be here at half past 
 eleven will. Yes . . . here he comes now." 
 
 In at the door comes Sim Kelley, and, if ever a 
 chap looked as if he was marchin to be hung, he 
 did. His eyes was red and his face was white un 
 der the freckles. 
 
 " Here here I be, Mr. Peters," he stammered. 
 
 Yes, I see you be, " says Peters, dry as a chip. 
 " All right. Now you can tell Cap n Snow what you 
 told me this mornin ." 
 
 Sim looked at me, and at the government man. 
 He was shakin all over. 
 
 "Aw, Cap n Zeb," he bust out, "don t be too 
 304
 
 IKE S LOSS MY GAIN 
 t 
 
 hard on me. Don t put me in jail I I know I 
 hadn t ought to have taken that letter, but you riled 
 me up when you told me I couldn t be trusted with 
 it. Ike pays me to fetch the mail. And he told me 
 he was expectin an important letter from them stock 
 brokers. So I " 
 
 Well, there s no use tryin to spin the yarn the 
 way he did. Twas all mixed up with prayers about 
 not puttin him in jail, and what would his ma say, 
 and " pleases " and " oh, dont s " and such. B iled 
 down and skimmed it amounted to this: He d seen 
 me lay that Hamilton letter on the sortin table, saw 
 it when he come back to tell me that Peters had 
 arrived. After I d gone out to the platform he was 
 struck with an idea. He would take that letter to 
 Ike, just to show that he could be trusted, and, be 
 sides Ike had promised him fifty cents for lookin 
 out for it and fetchin it to him direct. He had a 
 key to the Hamilton box and the letter laid right 
 back of that box. All he had to do was to reach 
 through the box to the table, take the letter, and lock 
 up again. So he did it, and put the letter in his 
 overcoat inside pocket. 
 
 " And and " he finished up, almost blub- 
 berin , " there was a great big hole in that pocket 
 and I didn t know it." 
 
 " I did," says I, involuntary, so to speak. 
 " Never mind. Heave ahead." 
 
 305
 
 THE POSTMASTER . 
 
 " And the letter must have dropped out of it. 
 When I got a little ways up the road I found twas 
 gone. I didn t dast tell Ike or you. I I didn t 
 dast to. Ike would kill me if I told him, and and 
 Oh, please, Cap n Zeb, don t put me in jail! I 
 don t know where the letter is. Honest, I don t! 
 Please . . ." and so on. 
 
 Peters cut him short. " There ! " says he, " that ll 
 do. Kelley, you go out on the platform and wait 
 till we need you. Go ahead! Shut up and 
 
 go. 1 ; 
 
 Sim went, but I cal late if we d listened we could 
 have heard the platform boards tremblin underneath 
 where he was standin ." 
 
 Peters looked at me and grinned. Twas my time 
 to rub my forehead. 
 
 " Well !" says I. " Well, I I ... Is he 
 lyin ? " 
 
 " Didn t act like it, did he?" 
 
 " No-o, he didn t. But but, if he took that let 
 ter, how did it get back onto that sortin table? " 
 
 " How do you know it did? " 
 
 "How do I know! Course it got back there! 
 Didn t Mary say " 
 
 " Wait a minute," he put in. " How do you ex 
 plain that, Cap n? " 
 
 He was holdin out somethin that he d took from 
 his pocket. I grabbed it. Twas the regular re- 
 
 306
 
 IKE S LOSS MY GAIN 
 
 ceipt for that registered letter, and twas signed by 
 Ichabod Hamilton, Junior. 
 
 I looked at that receipt and then at him. The 
 paddin in my head that, up to then, I d compli 
 mented by callin brains was whirlin as if somebody 
 was stirrin it. I couldn t say a word. He laughed 
 out loud. 
 
 " Don t have a fit, Cap n Snow," he says. " It s 
 simple enough. What you told me yesterday about 
 the firm of Hamilton and Co. put me wise to the 
 real answer to the riddle. I remembered that you 
 pointed out Hamilton to me on the street when you 
 and I were on the way to that hotel where we dined 
 the noon of my arrival. He was on his way home 
 then and he had been somewhere in this vicinity. 
 There was a chance that he had been here at the 
 office. This mornin I went to his house and found 
 him in bed. He was full of rheumatism and groans, 
 but fuller still of the Evil One. I told him I knew 
 he d got his partner s registered letter a bluff of 
 course and he didn t take the trouble to deny it. 
 Seems Sim Kelley, with the mail box, passed him 
 right here by the store platform. As they passed 
 each other the letter fell from Kelley s overcoat 
 pocket. The old man picked it up, intendin to call 
 to Kelley and give it back to him. When he saw 
 the address he didn t." 
 
 He stopped then, waitin for me to say something 
 
 307
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 I s pose. But I couldn t say anything. My head 
 was fuller of stir-about than ever, and I just stared 
 at him with my mouth open. 
 
 When he saw the address and the name of 
 the brokerage firm he didn t. He took that let 
 ter home and opened it. You see, the old feller is 
 nobody s fool, even if his rheumatism has kept him 
 from active business for the last few months. He 
 had suspected his nephew of speculatin and here was 
 the proof, a hundred shares of cheap minin stock, 
 and a letter sayin that two hundred more had been 
 bought on a margin. Young Hamilton had been 
 stockjobbin with the firm s money." 
 
 " My soul ! " was all I could say. 
 Yes ; well, old Ichabod is ha ! ha ! a queer 
 character. His rheumatism had come back and he 
 was waitin to get better afore he took the matter 
 up with his partner. What I ll say and do to that 
 young pup is a well man s job/ he told me. We had 
 a long talk and it ended in his sendin for Ike. As 
 soon as the young chap came I cleared out that is, 
 after I got this receipt signed. That bedroom was 
 too sulphurous for me. I could smell brimstone 
 even in the front yard. Cap n, I guess you needn t 
 worry about your rival candidate for postmaster. 
 He s got troubles enough of his own." 
 
 I got up, slow and deliberate, from that shoe-case. 
 
 " But but " I stuttered. 
 308
 
 IKE S LOSS MY GAIN 
 
 "Yes? Anything that I haven t made clear?" 
 
 "Anything? Why! if all this yarn of yours is 
 so . . . But it can t be so ! Why did Mary 
 burn that letter? " 
 
 " She didn t." 
 
 " But she said she did." 
 
 " I know. Well, Cap n, if you ll remember when 
 we talked, the three of us, yesterday, I hinted that 
 unless you were cleared of blame in this affair you 
 might be removed from office." 
 
 "I know, but . . . Hey? You mean that 
 she lied and put the blame on herself, so as to save 
 me? So s I d keep my job?" 
 
 " Looks that way to a man up a tree, doesn t it? " 
 
 " But why? Why should she sacrifice herself for 
 for me?" 
 
 Peters bit the end off of a cigar. "That," says 
 he, " don t come under the head of government busi- 
 
 Mary was still at her desk when I walked into the 
 mail room. I put my hand on her shoulder. 
 " Mary," says I, " I know all about it." 
 She looked at me. Her eyes were wet, and I 
 cal late mine wa n t as dry as a sand bank in July. 
 You know? " she says. 
 
 Yes," says I. And I told her the yarn. Afore 
 I got through the color had come back to her cheeks. 
 
 309
 
 " Then you did leave it on the sortin table after 
 all," she says, almost in a whisper. 
 
 " Course I did ! Didn t I say so ? " 
 
 "Yes; but Cap n Zeb, I saw you put that letter 
 in your overcoat pocket. I saw you do it, myself." 
 
 So there twas. I d forgot to tell her about my 
 mistake in the overcoats and she thought I d lost the 
 letter and didn t know it. 
 
 " And so," says I, after I d explained, " you 
 thought I d lost it and yet you took the blame all on 
 yourself. You risked your place and told a lie just 
 to save me, Mary. Why did you do it? " 
 
 " How could I help it? " she says. " You ve been 
 so good to me and so kind." 
 
 "Good and kind be keelhauled!" I sung out. 
 " Mary, my goodness and kindness wouldn t explain 
 a thing like that. Oh, Mary, don t let s have an 
 other misunderstandin . I m crazy maybe to think 
 of such a thing, and I m ten years older than you, 
 and you ll be throwin yourself away, but, do you 
 care enough for me to " 
 
 She got up from her desk, all flustered like. 
 
 " It s mail time," she says. "I I must " 
 
 But twa n t mail I was interested in just then. I 
 caught her afore she could get away. 
 
 "Could you, Mary?" I pleaded. She wouldn t 
 look at me, so I put my hand under her chin and 
 tipped her head back so I could see her face. Twas 
 
 310
 
 IKE S LOSS MY GAIN 
 
 as red as a spring peony, and her eyes were wetter 
 than ever. But they were shinin behind the fog. 
 
 Well, about three that afternoon, we were alone 
 together in the mail room. Peters, who had as much 
 common sense as anybody ever I see, had gone for 
 a walk. 
 
 Mary was thinkin things over and says she, " But 
 it was too bad," she says, " that all the worry and 
 trouble had to come on you just because of that fool 
 ish Sim Kelley. I m so sorry." 
 
 " Sorry! " says I. " I m goin to give Sim a ten- 
 dollar bill next time I see him. If I gave him a 
 million twould be a cheap price for what I ve got 
 by his buttin in. Sorry! / ain t sorry, I tell you 
 that!" 
 
 And I ve never been sorry since, either.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 I PAY MY OTHER BET 
 
 } f | "\WAS June, and Mary and I were in 
 New York together, on our honeymoon. 
 "^ We d been married, quietly, by the same 
 parson that tied the knot for Jim and Georgianna, 
 and Georgianna and Jim had been on hand at the 
 ceremony. We was cal latin to stop in New York 
 a few days, then go to Washin ton, and from there 
 to Chicago, and from there to California or the 
 Yellerstone, or anywhere that seemed good to us at 
 the time. I d waited fifty years for my weddin 
 tour and I didn t intend to let dollars and cents cut 
 much figger, so far as regulatin the limits of the 
 cruise was concerned. Jim Henry and the clerk, 
 who d been swore in as substitute assistant, believed 
 they could run the store and post-office while we 
 were gone. 
 
 Mary and I were walkin down Broadway to 
 gether. I d told her I had an errand to do and 
 asked her if she wanted to come along. She said 
 she did and we were walkin down Broadway, as I 
 said, when all at once I pulled up short. 
 
 312
 
 I PAY MY OTHER BET 
 
 " What is it?" asked Mary, lookin to see what 
 had run across my bows to bring me up into the 
 wind so sudden. 
 
 " Nothin serious," says I; "but, unless my eye 
 sight is goin back on me, this shop we re in front 
 of is what I ve been huntin for." 
 
 She looked at the shop I was p intin at. The 
 window was full of hats, straw ones mainly. 
 
 "Why!" says she, "it s a hat store, isn t it? 
 You don t need a new hat, Zebulon, do you? " 
 
 " You bet I do ! " says I, chucklin . " I need 
 just as much hat as there is. Come in and watch 
 me buy it." 
 
 I could see she was puzzled, but she was more 
 so after I got into the store. A slick-lookin , but 
 pretty condescendin young clerk marched up to us 
 and says he: 
 . " Somethin in a hat, sir?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," says I; " everything in a hat." 
 
 He didn t know what to make of that, so he tried 
 again. 
 
 "One of our new straws, perhaps?" he asks. 
 The fifteenth is almost here, you know." 
 
 " Maybe so," I told him, " but I don t want any 
 straw, the fifteenth or the sixteenth either. I want 
 a plug hat, a beaver hat that s what I want." 
 
 The clerk was a little set back, I guess, but poor 
 Mary was all at sea. 
 
 313
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 "Why, Zebulon! " she whispers, grabbin me by 
 the arm, " what are you doin ? You re not goin 
 to buy a silk hat! " 
 
 " Yes, I am," says I. 
 
 " But you aren t goin to wear it." 
 
 To save me, when I looked at her face I couldn t 
 help laughin . 
 
 " Ain t I ? " says I. " Why, I think I d look too 
 cute for anything in a tall hat. What s your opin 
 ion?" turnin to the clerk. 
 
 He coughed behind his hand and then made proc 
 lamation that a silk hat would become me very well, 
 he was sure. 
 
 " Then you re a whole lot surer than I am," says 
 I. " However, trot one out, the best article you ve 
 got in stock." 
 
 That clerk s back was gettin limberer every sec 
 ond. Yes, sir," says he, bowin . " Our im 
 ported hat at ten dollars is the finest in New York. 
 If you and the lady will step this way, please." 
 
 We stepped; that is, I did. I pretty nigh had to 
 drag Mary. 
 
 "What size, sir?" asked the clerk. 
 
 " Oh, I don t know," says I. " Any nice genteel 
 size will do, I guess." 
 
 I had consider ble fun with that clerk, fust and 
 last, and when we came out of that store I was 
 luggin a fine leather box with the imported tall hat 
 
 3H
 
 I PAY MY OTHER BET 
 
 inside it. I d made arrangements that, if the size 
 shouldn t be right, it could be exchanged. 
 
 " And now, Mary," says I, " I cal late you re 
 wonderin where we ll go next, ain t you? " 
 
 She looked at me and shook her head. 
 
 " Zeb," she says, half laughin , "I I m almost 
 afraid we ought to go to the insane asylum." 
 
 I laughed out loud then. " Not just yet," I told 
 her. " We re goin on a cruise down South Street 
 fust." 
 
 So I hired a hack street cars ain t good enough 
 for a man on his weddin trip and the feller drove 
 us to the number I give him on South Street. The 
 old place looked mighty familiar. 
 
 " Is Mr. Pike in?" I asked the bookkeeper, who 
 had hollered my name out as if he was glad to see 
 me. 
 
 " Why, yes, Cap n Snow, he s in. I ll tell him 
 you re here." 
 
 "Wait a minute," says I. "Is he alone? 
 Good! Then I ll tell him myself. Come, Mary." 
 
 Pike was in his private office, not lookin a day 
 older than when I left him four years and a half 
 ago. He looked up, jumped, and then grabbed 
 me by both hands. " Why, Cap n Zeb ! " he sung 
 out. " If this isn t good for sore eyes. How are 
 you? What are you doin here in New York? By 
 George, I m glad to see you! What " 
 
 315
 
 THE POSTMASTER 
 
 " Wait f " I interrupted. " Business fust, and 
 pleasure afterwards. I m here to pay my debts." 
 
 " Debts? " says he, wonderin . 
 
 " Yes," I says. " Did you get a hat from me 
 four year or so ago ? " 
 
 He laughed. " Yes, I did," he says. " I wrote 
 you that I did. I knew I should win that bet. You 
 couldn t stay idle to save your soul." 
 
 " There was another bet, too, if you recollect. 
 A bet with a five-year limit on it. The limit won t 
 be up till next fall, so here I am and here s the 
 other hat." 
 
 I set the leather box on the table. He stared at 
 it and then at me. 
 
 " What do you mean? " he says, slow. " I don t 
 remember. . . . Why, yes I do! You don t 
 mean to tell me that you re " 
 
 " That s the hat, ain t it? " I cut in. " You re a 
 man of judgment, Mr. Pike, and any time you want 
 to set up professionally as a prophet I d like to take 
 stock in the company." 
 
 He was beginnin to smile. 
 
 " Then " says he " Why, then this must 
 be" 
 
 I cut in and stopped him. 
 
 "Hold on," says I. "Hold on! I m prouder 
 to be able to say it than I ever was of anything else 
 in this world, and I sha n t let you say it fust. Mr. 
 
 316
 
 I PAY MY OTHER BET 
 
 Pike, let me introduce you to my wife Mrs. Zebu- 
 Ion Snow." 
 
 About half an hour afterwards he found time to 
 look at the hat. 
 
 " Whew ! " says he. " Cap n, this is much too 
 good a hat for you to buy for me. I m mighty glad, 
 for your sake, that I won the bet, but " 
 
 " Ssh-h ! shh ! " says I. " Don t say another 
 word. Think of what / won! Hey, Mary?" 
 
 THE END 
 
 (3)
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
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