Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 32, Number 338, 19 January 1908 — Page 7

A TRANSACTION

IN

.WING MACHINE Bv Earl Derr Bigg'ers us

Copjiight, 1007, By Thomas II. McHee. O, sir," said Mr. Peter Powers firmly, ' I fkv I don't believe in mixta' things. Everyk thing in the world's mixed now. Vou X, seo joy an sorrow, happiness an' mar riage, or home other trouble, graftin' an' iurch-goin', all marchin' hand in hand. It ain't ight, I say, an' I make it a rule never to mix nothin. YLat's why I've said 'beer' every one o the five 'imes you'e asked me to have a drink, an! that's why I'd go on sayin 'beer' if you was to ask mo five hundred more times." I nodded to the waiter, and Mr. Powers smiled genially. "Generosity," he continued, "is your strong point, an that's how you come to remind me o" George Barber, dome was the ,noa' generous man I ever tce, though you're a close se-ond, an' who knows but you'll boat, him out in the end? Every pay-day George acted more an' more like Carnegie, only be

mm Of-,;r5.i.. 'Vi PUT UP bver wasted no money oa books. It was a real j leasure to Kit near him in a cafe, with a good spry waiter (lose at hand. Yes, sir. you remind me o CJcorgo in a good many ways. He didn't have a very intelligent face, but he knew enough not to have Jicart failure whenever the waiter brought the checks." He drank. It's Ions since I seen poor George," he went on, Ijolingly, "three long years since the time Lira an' me tried to get rid o' a thousand sewin'-machines that had come into our lives accidental like. Unusual machines they was. too. always causin' trouble, l.n' before we got 'em off our hands we'd kidnapped lialf the female population o' a little New England town. Mobbe you'll like to hear about it?" I consulted my pocket, and again nodded to the waiter. With this slight encouragement Mr. Powers began: On one of the big North River docks in New York I struck old George Barber, always so jolly an" gay; en' the look in his eyes was sad, an' his smile o' greeting was the kind that does service at funerals. "I'm in trouble, Peter." he says to me, low an' tearful. ' Urn sorry, George." says I. with the true ting in lay voice; for I thought he was broke, an" to meet the most generous man you know an' find he has no money is the most mutual sorrow there is. "See that fancy yacht?" ho says, pointing to the harbor. An" there, right in among the dirty tugs an' tramp steamers an' the like, was the prettiest little boat afloat. Her brasses an' awnin's flashed in the sun. an' she was puffing an' snorting an' turuin' uj) her nose at the craft around her fer fell the world like Mrs. Van Dusfti visitin' the poorhouse. "Ain't s'.n the beauty?" 1 remarks. C.jor' sighed "I'm in command." he says. I started to congratulate him. but he got behind the post he'd been leauin' against and held up his l:and Don't." sas he. "That would be the last straw. Cn board that there yacht is the cause o a'l my T.oriy. Peter Powers, if you'd told me when last we me! that my generosity an' kind nature was goin' to fet. me iu ail this trouble. I'd 'a' turned different or. tl:e spc:." l'r.i :ilad 1 didn't, then." i says beartii. "Yes." b" answers, "I suppose it was better to let m? live m ipnornme. Hut it was a awful blow when k fcU." H : leans toward me. "Come'on board." he . ) :. p.rs ilk? -the villain iu the show, "we might be ard her.-. Come, an' I'll tell you the story o' my life." We was rowed out to the yacht, an' once in the cabin 1 was pleased to see that George was himself ega'.n, fer I had only just set down when he put scxae bottles an' passes cn the table. That was George tha' W3s the secret o' his generosity. The trouble he was in, the story he had to tell or the cue someone else was to! an' never got him so in -'-

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-'.cd he forgot ih liquid rcfreshinent. Well, we set down, an' George took up his sad, sad dory. "Six months ago," he says, "I was a happy ruan lirst mate of a tramp .itiictr oarryiu' bananas t-e-tw:i:u a lot o' little South American republics an" New York. Then one iiay u rich general 1:jwb t'aer-j in the tropic climer, got the idee that he ought to bo president o the pink spot. or. the map called his country. He an' our captain met; money talked, as la lis habit, an' when nr-xt we left Now York it was with ten thousand rifles stowed away below, in tho name o' liberty as represented by the general. Everything had been arranged by his agents; all we did was to take the boxes from a shady wharf on a darn night an' hide 'em away from anxious eyes. So wj steamed South, to aid an" abet a Humpty-Pnmpty president at bavin' a great fall. "tiut be didn't. Oh, it's a sad lair. We anchor d two mills up a forsaken, .smelly river one moonlight i ioht, an' saw the ragged array o' tyrant slranglers

THE SIGNBOARD WHERE THEY COULDN'T HELP can ped on the shore. The general lent talk to the t'nloading he was a fat man full o' whiskey an' excitement. When the boxes v. all ashore he grabbed an ax an' n ounted one of 'im. Downin" tyrants was bis suhject, ihat an' giviu' liberty a fair field. AHc he mentioned that he had w&ited long fer them rifles. A fuzzy atmosphere was erawlin' into our lungs an' cbokin us, so we told him to cut it short. Then he opened a box, an' next he swore in Spanish. "Well, Peter, there ain't no use makiu' a mystery of it. Inside that box was a neat little sewin'-raa-chine. Inside tbe next ten, twenty, thirty, up to one thousand boxes the general began opening they was sewin'-machines. Don't ask me how they got there I don't know. The general set down on a box an' cried, an' between sobs be asked us what we thought he was runnin' a sewin' circle or a war. Our captain tried to tell him they was a new kind o' machine gun, but the old boy wouldn't be cheered. " 'This ain't no women's war,' " he says. " 'Well, says Murry, the captain, 'it was pretty dark that night on the wharf. An' these look a lot like the boxes we was told to take on. They was a few more than we expected, but we thought you couldn't have any too many er rifles.' "At mention o that word the general stood up an' drew cn his vocabulary fer some o' the choicest words I ever hear used. Then ho set down an' cried some more. "'You fight too much in these blame' picture-book countries anyhow," says Murry, mad about the names. 'Sometime when I can afford it I'm goin" to take a day eft an' spank tbia seat o' war. It's muddy here.' be goes on, 'an' I don't like the cries o' the birds an' beasts, cor the wild wet bree.e comin' up from the swamp. I believe I'm eatchin' cold. I'm goin' back on board.' "The general grabs him. 'The rifles?' he says. " 'I'm sorry.' says Murry, who'd got most cf his pay for the job before startin' in; 'I'm very sorry, but someone else probably has 'em now. An' it wouldn't be safe to inquire. Keep the machines.' he says, 'they'll come ia handy round the camp. Some rainy day when it's too wet to fight let the men stay at home an' do a little dressmakin". They need new clothes," he says. ' Two minutes' -think in' convinced the general thai revolutions was too ex pen she just then, an' thai he'd b- iter wait till they was cheaper. He tells bis army In go home, an' ferget it, in a 'there'll-be-no-war-to-nitih:" sjhoc1. Wo took him an' the machine:: to the capital city, where he got back bis job of Secretary o" War, with no questions asked. He's there now, quietly waitin' for a chance to shoot the president under the table at a cabinet meeting." That, sir, is the story George had to t.'.l. and as he stopped to fill my glass I says to him: "George," tays I. "George, what has all this to do with you an' your trouble?" "Mv trouble," says George, "is that I'm too genO.

TAy

Brousrhton Brandeinbiiir

crous. i f" u if? '.s ti'-.'ii'.'li in".-?- j th-aui-jrid ,,' ' a;are en board th't : u'r. in .1 v : 1 rniti'i'?, 'irte-J by my kindnt-s.s ' a a' u .dTc-r a third -a hat i yet f .r nt, I r;.-r: a rou.c up tone !n tin-' .'vucral's Viiubt 'an' deil 'em oT f-.-r Mm." "Well. wLy don't : i"- I .nay?. "Why !.n't I V " sajs Gr,orge, whli tears in. his n ;:. "','.ia's i :.;' don't 1? A thousand white ),-; ha::'-- oti bevd th's yaetit would Le. easier disposed of. A tli. us -'' c! tare or: d tiaras d's..ppearia' from !.: N .- Y-: -! v. iji-f would n"'. have caused more tiir atrong Ike poli. e. The govern men1 ha.- taken charg- o' it." -iu-. .-. aa' now they're loi.kiu' f-T tbf ru'ifl:;!:;-:-. Tiny -.v.. very thine As, sure as I steul into a c-'.ty an ' r-'t-'.'y f ;r uamai'.i day i-n th y.:-h . fh- n-v.-st.a?H rj twine ( out with biff headlines a boa; n-.v !;., : the .. Why don't they feigel i' 7 Aiti'w tht !'.; no .j'h.-r news but lost sew iri"-ma-chines'.'" "The. ti-.iLi do." 1 fcu;. , siov an' careful, i.- le.

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P.El.V SEEN. Eo somewhere an' sell them machines to somebody. George looks disappointed. "I'd got that far myself." he says. "Ver," I says, "but you ain't been usin" common sense in carry in' out tbe plan. You've been tryiu' to s.ell what I suppose a cruel justice calls stolen goods in the land o' arclights an" cafes, where crime is wrote large in the headlines, an' there's suspicion in the eye of your brother if you ask him the time. It's the simple life fer yours. It's some little village alone an' forgotten by the sea. where hearts is unsuspecting, an' manners an' customs especially customs ain't too exactin'." "You're right, Peter," says George, "you're right." "Of course I am," I says, "an" I know the place, too. Up on the Maine coast they's a little town called Grimport. that even the Lord thinks has toppled off into the sea. What ails yon. George?" "I've heard of it." says George, choking over his drink. "That's queer," says I. "1 didn't suppose any man on earth had heard of it." "A friend of mine onet lived there," says George. "'No friend o' min has lived there, or ever could, an' still be a friend." I says, "but here's my plan. Why not run up there tor one day, pass round bills in the mornin" invitin' all ladies to come on board in tbe afternoon an' view the machines we're almost giviu' away, soli all we can, deliver 'em an' collect the money, an' then flit away before suspicion wakes? I'll go with you. George. I'm out of a berth, an' I always did like to bj near you, anyhow." George's: gratitude at my oiTenn' to go along was touchin" to see, i.u' bo hunts up the crew, orderin" them to start at once. We stemmed away north, an all that night George set up in the cabin, deef to the swearin' o' the mate, writin' advertisements fer sewin'-machines that was artistic triumphs. He said the machines was bought by a missionary society fer the h'-at'aen in Africa, but when they was delivered the heathen wouldn't have 'em. because they didn't iike to sew. an' di-in't wear dctiu-.t. anyhor. One o' the crew that was onet a sign-paintfr iu San r-ac.-ir.-'o rrin:e;i George's ads en ten bic board, an te ":.,r::.u we got to Gr;mport w-- took 'cm ashore r.:" :n: 'era ep whom they coaidnt help bein' seen. I t: .i u) get to org" to tie up to the docks, but. he was :-t on an borin' o:i :n iho barber. We could eet utel -r way o'ii "Iter i; ;.i,t!.i:.e happ-.-u-d. ho said, an' 1; : w -ts ' afraid o' troulh tha' Lo went ashore an' 'hire! a watts mat. to carry the ladies to an' from the yacht, not Want;:" to use our own boat fer the purpo.-e. At one o'ciO'.-k that afternoon we set clown to wait fer customers. Georgo was a little nervous about the outcome- o' the plan, so I cheers him up a bit. "Thiuk of it," I says, "in this deserted village there's over a thousand women, heart-sick an' hungerin' fer a ba-rai:: sale. Tew. if any, have come into their lives. An' now we bring 'em their heart s

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desire on board tt ;. a-Lt. Why. George, they'll f.ock here like like birds. We'll be fcatlod as public bentfaetorr. They'll build us a statue at the mouth c" this harbor. ' "Under v. a'.er," growls George.

"Yoj cui George ".v at. .tod je." I tells him. un' he saw. I wish I could describe the stene 'hat followed. If I had one more drink inch be I couid.' Thank you mu.-b iblicl. The first trip the wate-rmat i.tade he brought live v.-jinca. ..n' pretty tmoii la iy shoppers? was thicker on that dec, than iti .i department store the day before Christmas. George ven o'.t eorne cf ;h i.ta.'bir.c an' seme o" :.:e ;.;ce Sewin' S'"' wltc hut' brought aloD-.t implement:; for down ar." sewed, aeeord'i.' lo George.'.- ef-a.J.-. Ye" won't, gues.-, what a pretty s-.en-fer in 'be it made w ilb the ladies tatUin' a blue streak, an tbe machines a-bu.tzit. '. an' George's head bus-tin' too. because o' me questions they asKett. One by on-- they cam" an' ordered an' went aa. I could beat George bavin.': "Yes'm. pay ou delivery to-night," an' then h'd come over to where I wan sittiti' by the rail an' punch me like be was ringiu" up the ab; on a cash register, uu' shrifk low for joy. ' Another gone." he'd gay; "Peter, this ia your work. Gob bless you'" It began to get late, an' the crowd thinned out. They wiis just live left, the old lady with the green spt'-s. an old maid who wouldn't have been satisfied with a solid gold machine set with diamond?, a butcher's wife whose social staudin wouldn't allow h'r to buy nothin' inferior, an' two young married women who couldn't decide. George comes over to UK. "Two hundred and eighty-three bold!" he says. "If you'd 'a' told me yesterday such luck was waitin' fer me. I'd "a" jammed the lie down your throat. Tonight I'll be a rich man. Two hundred and eightythree, an' rnebbe some more." "Yes, mebbe some more," I says, "fer here comes the waterman with another customer." George smiled and says: "That's good," an turned to look at -the waterman's skiff, not a hundred yards av.usy. Then his face went white an' he trembled all over. At that minute the waterman's passenger, a tall, homely woman, stood up in the stern o' the boat an' made some remarks, emphasizin' her words by wavin' a umbrella vigorously. "Good Lord!" says George in a broken voice, "she's teen me." "Well, why not?" says I, surprised. "Why not? ' shrieked George. "Why not, you fool? She's my wife, that's why not." "You never told me." I says sadly. "This ain't no time fer family history," he says, an' rusb.es below. 1 followed. The engineer was right there, but George didn't notice him. He started the yacht himself. "Look here," I hollered, "they's five women aboard this boat what belong ashore. Are yoti mad, George?" "No." says George, "I'm doin' the only sane thing, as you'd know if you'd ever m"t my wife. Eight years ago I left her, an' she's been after mc ever since. Once she gets me, I'm a goner. I was a fool fer comin' to this town, she used to live here when she was a girl. Go up on the bridge an' keep her headed to sea. Jim," he says to one o' tbe men. "Where are we goin'?" I asks. "Siberia, Hindoostan, Algiers, anywhere." tsays George, "anywhere, I ain't sure where," he says. "I only know we're goin' an' we're goin' quick." "Well, put on your armor." I says, "an' we'll go on deck." I think I'll need another drink to describe the scone that met our eyes there. Thanks! Have you ever faced rive, cryin'-raad women you've just kidnapped? No? Well, I guess they ain't no use tryin' to give you any idee o' the way they acted. i ALi.. HOMELY WOMAN STOOD UP IN "U: calm, i. idles, be cairn." says George, ia his softest tours: "this is aa accident, an' we're nil sorry, I'll " The old lady v:i curia stopped fry: a' to stream. ' "Pirnre-:! Pirates' 1 knew it. from the vr tirt. It so r.:" l all along sometbicg was wrong. I suppose we're be-in' carrktl eff to be ptrutesscj.- Put I won't i e er.' . I'il li: fir.-t." "Yes. I 'juess: you will," says George, tryin' to cheer things up a tit. "Listen to that," shrieked the eld lady, ' he's goin' to kill us. I knew it. Take ua back, you monster." George tried to explain, but cxplainin' to angry women is like cxpestulatin' with a storm at sea. The carats ibe-.v called Lim was far better an' stronger than I'd heard from sea-captains who'd had profanity on their side from birth. When we'd gon" nbout three miles down the coast I took George aside.

"Your '..' can't follow yoti here," I says, "aa t can't Iu-tcn this commotion much lonjtpr an' sta in my riyht mind. Why not stop an' put these womer ashore in a boat. They can walk back to Grimporl befckTo raid: isht." George- :-md it was the l-st rlan. an' be told th Iftiics so. As he was linin up tbe weepin crowi ready to lower 'em into tbe ship's boat, his generosity cam j to the freuit again. "I've caus-ed yon some inconvenience, ladies," hc says, "no, yo.i can't deny it don't try. So I'm goin' to make .-.teh or.e o' you a nice little present. Witb each lady put ashore goes one o' our latest-model, light-: ur.niti s- win -machines. When I'm far away an' I'll be as far away as I can get, you can bet on that." be as, tbmkin' o" bis wife, "you can look a, tbe machines an' r member George Barber, the men that carried vou away by accident " "Cut it out." says the butcher's wife; "it's RCtttn late." ; So the crew put 'em ashore In tbe boat, an followed "cm with live o cur brft machine. Tb"f made a pretty picture, standin' on the sand, each on beside a sevc in'-uiacbice, an' utterin" female curse on George's head. We steamed away, an" George said it almost broke his heart to leave Vm. Dut I reminded him o' his wife, an' he was comforted. We'd gone about a quarter o' a mile when Gc org came rush in' to me. a glass in his hand. "Peter." he says, "bad luck don't come single. They've gut u now. or my name ain't George Barber." "Who's got us?" I asked, "the ladies?" "The law," whispers George ia hoarse tones, "tha law." An' he points with shakin' finger toward a revenue cutter speedin' along through tbe dusk, blowing bushels o" smoke from its funnels, an" thro win its searchlight, like some evil eye, over the waters. "It's been nothin' but trouble, trouble," says George sadly, "ever since I took charge o' these blamed machines. An now It's six years hard labor fer us all. He fell over a machine, an' instead o' swearin. etops to think. "They's one way out," he says, excited like; "'they's one way to save us yet." An he picks up a machine an throws it overboard. "Call the crew," he shouts; "this is the only way." We all got to work, not relishing George's picture o prison stripes, an pretty soon we'd thrown seven hundred and twelve perfectly good sewin'-machines into the deep blue sea. The cutter comes nearer an' nearer. George find it harder an' harder to breathe. Then she turns her light on us fer a second just a contemptuous glance in passin' an' flashes by. George's face was a sight to see, even in the dusk. "They never stopped," he says softly; "they never stopped." "That's clear," says I; "they went by. "Fifty thousand dollars' worth o sewin'-machines, he murmurs, "thrown to the mermaids." "It's a shame," says I; "but the mermaids need "A third o the money mine," he goes on, "an a excitable general waitin' in South America fer his share." "What's the answer?" I says. We steamed on southward, a sad lot. 1 asked to be put ashore here at New York, an George gave In, against his will. When I said good -by, he told me bis plan. He was goin to show tbe general the newspaper clippings about bow the police was on our track. "The 6tory of our brave fight, as I have thought it out," says George, "is a touchin one. For a hundred miles we raced tbe fastest revenue cutter in America, Brought to bay at last, we were forced to throw overboard our treasure, in order to save our lives. All is lost, my dear general, save honor an" the yacht." "I hope he'll be good to you." I says, "as good aa you deserve. Good-by. Good-by, George. I hate U

.THE STERN AND MADE SOME REMARKS. leave you." "An" so." finished Mr. Peter Powers, "inc an" George Barber parted fer tb last time. It's been three long years tin-c I sren him, an' him the mo3 generous man I know. No, you haven't beat him out; I'd like to say you bad, but loyalty to poor old George won't let me." I eaid good-by to poor old George's faithful friend, and started out. Near the door I met a waiter I knew. "Who is this Peter Powers?" I asked. Tbe waiter smiled. "He's a carpenter." he said, "and he lives over in Brooklyn." "But h5's been on the water a great deal," I protested. ' Ferry boats," returned the man, "twice a daymorning and eight. And maybe oa the swan boat in Central Park." hbor