Argosy, Vol. 111, No. 1 — page 104: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

94 ~ Somehow, Slim felt stronger in the com- pany of the coarse, materialistic Mr. Trigg, while Fatty experienced a kind of spiritual uplift in the presence of the dreamy, poetical wanderer, Slim Peters. Sometimes in a wild strain of fancy Slim would think to himself: “ Now, couldn’ J throw a bomb under im, if I was ter tell what I know?” And again, exasperated with the thought of his wife’s perfidy: ‘If he hadn’t been board- in’ with ’er when they brung me in, maybe she wouldn’ ’a’ reckernized my corpse so quick.”’ But he kept his thoughts to himself. He was too well content to crave for a change in his condition; and, Sesides, his first ap- praisement of Mr. Trigg—that he would be of a violent, inflammable temper, if aroused ——was correct. It was well to let good enough alone. He did talk, however, of women and marriage in general. ** Women!” Slim sneered. ‘‘ I don’t take no truck in ’em. They’re ructious an’ vio- lent an’ don’t make no difference between throwin’ kisses an’ hammers.” ‘“*’Cause you don’t know how to handle ’em,” Fatty Trigg suggested. 6 How?” ‘“‘ Make ’em; that’s how,” the masterly Mr. Trigg explained. ‘‘ A dog don’t care nothin’ for you unless you make ’im do, an’ neither does a woman. I’d like to see my wife try to disobey me.”’ ‘‘ What would ver deo to ’er?”’ “T ain’t sayin’ what I would do or what I wouldn't do,” Mr. Trigg said non- committally. ‘‘ But they’s a passel o’ willer sprouts growin’ in the vard an’ a passel o’ barrel staves beyant the kitchen. But I ain’t sayin’ what I’d do, Slim.” No use of his saying. , Slim knew, and he regarded with something like adoration the man who could subdue Dovie. “I got a mighty smart stepdaughter, though,” pursued Mr. Trigg with displeas- ure. ‘‘ She’s plenty big to help earn the livin’, but do you think she'll turn ’er hand? Not her. Take in washin’, or cook an’ tidy up kitchens for the high-mucks? Phew! You’d think she was a millionaire. Thinks she’s better than me an’ Ker mother.” THE ARGOSY. “ Little Minnie?” asked Slim. “* Little Minnie, your foot! She’s twenty- one, an’ ycu’d think little if you was to see her. Been havin’ beaux five years.” Slim listened to these family matters without batting an eye. Whatever might be his feelings, he had trained his tongue to play dumb on graveyard topics, even in his most violent sprees. Which, by the way, occurred with the regularity and frequency of Saturday nights. Once, however, he was guilty of an in- discretion that might have been followed by serious consequences. Incidentally, it also saved him from a painful, nerve-racking experience on another line—but of that later. On Christmas Eve the molders, under- standing that Slim and Fatty Trigg looked after each other’s jobs during the other’s absence, offered Slim five dollars to clean up the dance-hall of the old lodge-room and build fires for their Christmas dance. Fatty generously agreed to relieve Slim till midnight. Slim went, but before he went the sawdust pile emptied part of its treasures. The molders also, in a festive, Christmas mood, urged him to partake of their private brands; and Slim was too docile and courteous to refuse a request. As a consequence, he reached the hall in a mildly intoxicated condition. He swept out the place, built fires, and then waited for the dance. A while after dark the dancers and a number of observers and wall-flowers began to make their appearance. The entertain- ment was delayed a few minutes by the tardiness of the fiddler. When the large, one-eyed musician presently appeared with his trusted instrument, the dance began in earnest. Slim had not been to a “ tear-down ” in over a decade, and this one flooded him with pleasant, far-away memories. Mixed liquors fraternized in him cordially, and -each time he replenished the fire near the fiddler he was invited to help himself from the fiddler’s own private bucket. He was inclined to be garrulous, but there was no one to whom he could talk. And so he con- tinued to build fires and look at the danee. Now, Alabama Slim was not immune to GOMIIGDOOO S (CO