Mr. Scraggs Part 9

People don't call a thing 'skee' unless they hev good reason for it. Before I caught the hang of them durn disconnected bob-sleds I saw where the 'skee' come in. The feller that loaned 'em to me kindly explained that you slid down the hills on 'em, and it was great sport. When I clumb the first hill and stood perspirin' on top I felt ent.i.tled to a little sport. 'Hooray!' says I, and pushed loose. It was a long, wide, high hill with trees and things on it. Some time after I started, say about three seconds, I thought I'd like to slack a bit and view the scenery. The way I was travelin' the scenery looked like the spokes of a flywheel. I left my stummick and my immortal soul about ten rods behind me.

You could play checkers on my coat-tail, as the sayin' is. Man!

And I pushed up a hurricane. It cut my eyes so I cried icicles a foot long. _Roar-row-roor-s-s-wish_! we went in the open, and _me-a-arrr_! we ripped through the timber. I crossed a downed log unexpected and flew thirty foot in the air. Whilst aloft I see a creek dead ahead of me. There wasn't nothin' to do but jump when I come to it, so I jumped. I don't care a cuss whether you believe me or not, dear friends and brothers, but I want to tell you right now that I cleared the creek with something like one hundred and eighty feet to spare! At which I took to throwin' summersaults. I threw one solid quarter-mile of summersaults before that suddent cravin' was satisfied.

"'Y-a-as,' says I when I picked myself up. 'Well, I reckon I've done enough of this here skeedaddlin' for one mornin'. So after that I went along quiet and dignified to William Pemberton's.

"I hit his cabin on Christmas Eve, findin' him very low-spirited.

It seems that he was expectin' an attack from some people anxious to jump the claims, thereby gettin' the mill standin' on the property. The feller that hired Billy as watchman promised him everything and forgot it. Billy was almighty faithful but hot-tempered'

"'Think of it!' says he to me. 'I gets word two days ago that the gang is comin' to hop me, and old man Davis ain't even sent me a rifle, like he agreed. What does he expect? Does he have illusions that when they come squirtin' lead at me I'm goin' to peg at 'em with s...o...b..a.l.l.s?'

"Then he laid back, fightin' for breath, and kickin' out with his legs till I loosened his collar. It was a terrible strain, bein'

watchman of a mill under them conditions, with a disposition like this. I pitched in to make him feel better. After I'd narrated some incidents that went to make up livin' with Mrs. Scraggs he chirped up considerable. 'Well, sir! This _is_ a gay world, ain't it?' says he. 'I wisht I could offer you something to drown your sorrers in, Zeke, but unless you happen to have brought along the makings of a flowing bowl we can't put an end to 'em at this ranch.'

"Well, now, that was sorrerful tidin's. I reckon William took notice of my face--Christmas Eve, alone on top of a G.o.d-forsaken mountain and not a smell of anything to make the sun rise in our souls--oh, murder!

"'I feel awful bad about this, Zeke,' says he.

"'Don't mention it,' says I as soon's I could tune my pipes to a cheerful lie. 'Your presence is sufficient.'

"'But I have an idee,' says he, pushing his finger agin my ribs.

'Don't git excited, Zeke, only to be cast down the harder, but there's a chance. All last summer we had stockholders'

investigation meetings, and the way old man Davis led 'em to make investigations through a gla.s.s darkly was a sin and a scandal. The altytood was too altytoodinous for strangers, says old man Davis, and therefore they must take a drink; and it was too cold and too hot, too wet and too dry, and if everything else failed it was too cussed mejium for them to live through it without takin' a drink.

The consequence was that all I remember about a stockholder is that he's a kind of man with wibbly-wabbly knees and feet that wants to swap sides, who spends his time hiccupin' up and down the mine trails, findin' specimens when and where old man Davis wills.'

"William Pemberton smote his forehead with the flat of his hand--everything took hold of William _so_ vi'lent. 'I give you my word, Zeke,' says he, 'that them horse-car busters picked hunks of red serpentine, loaded with gold from the Texas Star, out of our white quartz ledges that never see gold since Adam played tag, and believed it was all right--just the same as the gent pulls a rabbit out of your hat at the show, and you're convinced that rabbit was there all the time unbeknownst to you. And to think--' he says.

"'Sit down, William, sit down,' says I. 'I don't know what to do for appleplexy.'

"'Well, I'll sit down to oblige you, Zeke; but to think of them flappy-footed yawps puttin' away good liquor by the pailful--pailful?' yells William scornful.

'Barrelful--steam-enjine b'ilerful--

"'Well,' says I hastily, 'you was sayin' you had an idee?'

"'Oh, yes!' says he. 'It don't stand in reason they rounded up every last bottle, so it occurred to me that if we hunted we might make discoveries.'

"'Why, so we could!' I hollers loud and hearty, with more notion of creatin' a diversion, however, than any rank faith in my havin' a good time off what old man Davis overlooked. 'It'll be like hide-and-go-seek of a Christmas Eve when we was kids, William.'

"So we scrimmaged round here and there till there was only one closet in the cabin left.

"'I saved it till the last--it's the most likely,' says William.

'Shine a light on our departing hopes, Ezekiel.'

"He put his hand very careful toward the back. 'E. G. W., says he,' 'my fingers have teched something cold and smooth, just like a bottle--pull hard, Ezekiel.'

"I took a long breath and pulled hard.

"'It _is_ round,' says William Pemberton. 'It _is_ a bottle.'

"Nothin' could be heard but the beatin' of our hearts.

"'Is it--is it--_heavy_, William?' I falters. Then you couldn't hear nothin', for our hearts had cease to beat. He let loose of a roar same as a lion that's skipped atop of his prey.

'Ezekiel G. W. Scraggs!' he shrieks, 'she's full!'

"'I wish no better luck myself,' says I. 'Trot her out!'

"When the light of the lantern fell upon that bottle we got a shock. Instead of the cheerin' color that usually fills useful bottles, the contents of this here one was green--green as gra.s.s off a June hillside.

"'Well!' says William, 'what in--where in--why, it's perfumery!' he hollers, and raises it for a smash.

"'Hold, William! Hold!' says I. 'It's got red sealin'-wax on the top. If you break it before we take a sample you and me is the best of friends parted in the middle, not to mention the disturbance we'll make in this room.'

"So I took it away from him and looked at it in the candle-light.

Sure enough, there was the inspirin' words on it, 'Liqueur--Creme de Menthe.' A furreign way of spellin' liquor, to be sure, but what's a letter or two out of the way, so long as the results is in sight?

"'William,' says I, 'L-i-q, lick, u-e-u-r, er--licker. Get gla.s.ses, William, and let us be joyful.'

"William mumbled somethin' about green not bein' a joyful color, but he went and did as I told him.

"That stuff smelt of perpemint, fearful. It was a young ladies'

bevridge if ever I hit one. We sot opposite each other, filled a tumbler apiece, says, 'Here's how,' and waited. We waited quite some time.

"'Ezekiel, do you notice anythin'?' says William. Well, to tell the truth, I hadn't; yet it might only been fancy, so I says, 'Seems to me I _do_, William--nothin' vi'lent, nor musical, nor humorous--but a kind of a tranquil, preliminary, what-you-might-call-indication of somethin' to follow.'

"'Huh,' says William, 'let's try another.

"We was careful to load to the brim this time. After five minutes I says, 'Are you sure you don't notice nothin,' William?' I observed a risin' color in his face.

"'U-m-m--y-a-as,' says he most sarcastical; 'I notice somethin', Ezekiel--a strong smell of peppermint--not escaped you, perhaps?

Well, there's just one more swig of green paint goin' to force itself into the midst of William Pemberton, and if there ain't more to show for it than the present odor and a sensation 'sif I'd been turned inside out and exposed to the wintry blasts you'll hear from me, Ezekiel. I've stood,' says William, 'about all I'm prepared to stand. The next act will be for me to proceed to get a move on.'

"Knowin' what a powerful disposition he had I most sincerely hoped our next gla.s.s would bring about satisfactory conclusions. I downed her, but it had got to be all I could do, I felt a freezin'

cold in my vitals, like William had complained of, instead of the warmth and comfort for which I looked. Y-a-as, I swallered that gla.s.s by main strength, like a snake would a hop-toad--kinder lengthened myself until I was outside of it.

"'Tick-tick-tick,' remarks William's clock on the wall. When it had arranged its hands before its mild countenance in such a way as to inform me that twenty minutes, mountain time, had done all the elapsin' possible, I slid my anxious gaze on William. He held to his chair with both hands, and white spots showed in his cheeks, the way he chawed his teeth together.

"'Ahem,' says I, clearin' my throat, 'Hum--ah, do you--er--do you no--'

"I got no farther. William leant over and bent his finger double agin my chest. 'Full well,' says he in a tone of v'ice not loud but so loaded with meanin' it b.u.mped on his teeth--'full well, Ezekiel George Washington Scraggs, do I a.s.simerlate what the results of such a course will be, but if you should persume to ast me any more if I notice anything I shall at once arise and bat you in the eye--I am beyond carin' for conserquences.'

"'Now, now, now! What is the use of gettin' so excited? Take a drink of water--you'll bust your b'iler, foamin' like that,' I says.

"'Water!' says William. 'Ha, ha, ha.' It wasn't no giggle, that laugh of his. It was one of them blood-curdlers you read about.

"'All right," says he, brisk, 'to oblige you--remember that.' He turned the dipper upside down, then heaved it through the window.

'Sufferin' Ike'' says he, "I can't even taste it--nothin' but cold, cold. Went down my gullet like a buckshot down a ten-foot shaft.'

He struggled for air and continued; 'Here am I,' says he, 'William Pemberton, celebratin' Christmas by dyeing my linin' green and smellin' like a recess in a country school.' His ventilation give out again, whilest he worked his face into knots and flew his hands around. 'You come along with me,' says he, 'and I'll show you a Christmas celebration.'

"I grabbed him. 'William,' I says, 'your eye is desperate. You explain to me before you scuff a foot.'