# Tiberius Smith/Chapter 7
### VII THE REFORM AT RED ANT

"AFTER the Point Barrow nightmare, Tib had no irresistible hankering to hurry back to the States. For the second time, under one contract, we had fallen down—in Greenland and on the bears. Of course we had picked up a lot of bargain-counter sales for the circus—seals, a musk-ox, and such knick-knacks—but no Big Show, ten-by-twenty-foot poster stuff. Consequently we wouldn't endanger our lives by crossing a crowded street to greet the disgruntled owner. So we rolled up our kits and told the captain of the Saucy Liz he must leave us at Skagway. It was sadly out of his beat, but my patron was the accredited agent of the Loud Noise down in the sunshine, and with a hatful of explicit and all-searching epithets the Liz grouchily turned her nose in by Sitka and we were delectated. If I remember correctly, the captain in parting earnestly explained how he would like to see a rabbit, well trained down, run continuously for a month, and then measure off the distance fairly and ​exactly and have the privilege of permanently locating us that many miles in the heated hereafter. Anyway, the expression of good-will was very chaste.
"But we forgot him and his narrow views in our new surroundings. The first thing that impressed us, once we'd commenced the trip to Dawson, was the lack of municipal improvements and high public spirit. Of course you couldn't expect the average citizen to wax warm and zealous while living in a snow-drift, and thus I put it to Tib. But he insisted the only time to begin the discipline of a dump was when the dump was born. He argued that if a town is taken kindly, but firmly, in hand at its inception, and if civic pride is administered in small doses, you can't help but have a model habitat as the years prance by. He admitted it is wellnigh impossible to achieve in a minute any lasting results here in the East, and that the good must be taken with the bad. But in new parcels of our country, he contended, where towns bloom overnight, it can be done if the place is permeated with respectability at the start. And say, when it came to doctoring and nursing a seedy, disreputable centre of alleged civilization, I suppose Tiberius Smith ranked four miles ahead of all other physicians. He was certainly a doctor of towns and ought to have had a degree to that effect. Tiberius Smith, T.D.; not so bad, eh?
​"And what do you suppose his remedy was? Trading-stamps. Now don't look sceptical; remember, you can't strangle veneered vice with crude brute force. Tell a man he shall not drink kerosene, and he'll boom John R.'s game by breaking into storehouses and licking up a quart of that same article. And I reckon a man is never seized with an insane desire to take a drink in a prohibition State, eh? But, you see, Tib's way was to make virtue so attractive that, like Scrubine and other washing confections, you simply had to have it to be happy.
"Well, we reached Dawson, and had found our stock of joy-paper was fading away, with no indication of a diamond-hiked existence to cheer us on, before the psychological moment arrived for Tib to play the rôle of Moral Cleanser. I was for rushing into the wild-wood and tearing up alder bushes in a mad search for a golden reprieve, while the old chap was hinting I plight my troth with a Digger Indian princess, encumbered by several million dollars' worth of furs, and take him home to a chimney-corner of ease and baked dog. Naturally I complained of his grim humor, and to accentuate our position shook two meagre coins in his wasting face, and reminded him we had arrived at the point when snow-balls would taste good.
"As I was trying to recall him to a sense of our ​plight, and was at the climax of my despair, we fell in with a party of miners bound for Red Ant Camp, on the creek of the same name, just this side of Stewart River. The leader was a jovial dog, who, without reserve, told us that fifty of the boys had control of all the golden deposits on Red Ant and that there wasn't room for another pair of boots to crowd in.
"‘But we do need a store-keeper,' he admitted. 'I've just bought a load of stuff down the line, and it's being toted up there now. To be honest, gentlemen, I was on a little toot when I passed over the boys' dust, and, although I bought a whole cargo of stuff, it may be all piannys for what I know. Ye see, we all chip in and share expenses, but every one's so busy mining that the store has to run itself. If you and the kid want the job of running the store, hop along.'
"‘And you don't ask for references, my bearded pard?' asked Tib, his brown eyes lighting up with hope.
"Mr. Boots tapped him impressively on the shoulder and said: 'Don't let that bother ye. If a man plays us crooked we know what is good for him, and we'll leave him simply nothing to worry about. But speaking of that reminds me, if you can see any way to keep the town on the level and help its morals we'll boost yer game to the limit. We kind of need a soother and a shepherd.'
​"That tickled Tib. It was a situation he liked. To reform and keep lamblike a bevy of fifty maneaters was what would appeal to his decent mind. Of course, violence was out of the question, and that's why he liked the game. It demanded subtle and scientific treatment.
"‘Billy,' he whispered, as we spun down the river, I'm going to make that the nicest place in the northern zone, I'll fix 'em so they'll be pure as the nine months' snows.'
"And all the way to Red Ant he was busy scheming. But it was only after he had rummaged among the camp's stores on the boat that he saw a light. 'It's all easy now,' he encouraged. 'I've found just what I need.'
"Our reception at Red Ant was hearty and wholesome, but as I heard the crowd clamoring for whiskey I knew Tib had a tough outfit to convert. I could see they tolerated us as they would a couple of Chinese servants. But Tib was all enthusiasm, and after two days' work, no one lending a willing hand, we had broken open the cargo and had it neatly arranged in the big, double log-house which was to be our home and store combined. Fortunately, Ruddy Mac's toot had not resulted in a useless invoice, and although there were many knick-knacks there was also a large amount of tinned and canned stuff and other fodder.
​"But what Tib gloated over more than all else was a box of trading-stamps. How they ever got into that mixed cargo was a mystery, but there they were, and it was with these Tib intended to quiet the town and elevate its morals.
"First, he hustled about and got the names of the fifty miners, and then he sprung his plan. They were for it keenly, sir. Tib could talk the face off a mule, and he speedily had them hypnotized. Besides, collectively they wanted to be decent. It was only as individuals that they gazed lovingly on toots and high play.
"Well, the first night after the system was instituted there was the quaintest photo you ever gazed on when the citizens came up to the store to get their supplies. Tib had divided his merchandise into necessities and luxuries. Every man was scheduled to partake of the necessities, but only those holding trading-stamps could revel in the delicacies. And a man to get a trading-stamp had to be good.
"‘Ah, Mr. Jones,' saluted Tib of the first comer, 'you have two stamps coming to you. Give Mr. Jones two merits, Billy, for bravery on the field of battle. I observed, sir, you refused to drink from Tuttle's flask this morning.'
"‘It was rum, an' he takes only gin,' growled Mr. Tuttle, in self-defence.
​"‘Never mind what he has taken,' replied Tib, tartly, bending over his books; 'he didn't drink in working-hours. One stamp for Mr. Tuttle, Billy. Beware of the serpent, Mr. T., and never tempt a fellow-creature.'
"‘How many do I get?' asked a burly, shame-faced fellow, approaching amid a universal grin.
"‘I'm sorry, Mr. Gumpy, but there is no mail for you. You fired seven bullets through the northeast corner of Mr. Daggett's cabin at noon and knocked out a great deal of the chinking. No delicacies for Mr. G., Billy,' cautioned Tib.
"‘Wal, I'll be—'
"‘Tut, tut!' warned Tib. 'You will be if you say naughty things. See that sign up there? It forbids swearing in my store. Be careful, or you'll lose another stamp.'
"‘But I've got to eat!' howled the giant, glaring at his overjoyed companions.
"‘You can always get the staff of life,' assured Tib, gravely. 'Billy, one pound of potatoes and a pound of pork for Mr. G.'
"‘But I only did it fer fun,' remonstrated Gumpy. 'I knowed Dag wasn't at home.'
"‘Ye ain't no right ter spile my home life,' grinned Daggett, and the crowd roared.
"‘Dern ye, Fatty, come out here an' I'll clean ye up!' yelled Gumpy to Tib, as he grabbed his groceries.
​"‘Once for all, gentlemen, understand I'm no prize-fighter. Mind you, I don't concede this poor, benighted mortal can clean me up, as he vulgarly expresses it. But so long as a unit you indorse my system, so long will it stand, and no brawler or gambler or boozer can have his shirt mended on that sewing-machine, or eat a sugared plum from that pink box, or hear "My Old Kentucky Home" on that talking-machine. He can only take his pork and potatoes and go home a sadder and, I trust, a wiser man. And again, any man who coarsely threatens me and intimates that I am fat, will get no stamps for a week. This holds good so long as the town, as a whole, backs me up.'
"The town went wild and howled itself hoarse, while Ruddy Mac observed, slowly, 'It would be a shame, boys, if Gump cut up any didoes and had to be hung.'
"The giant bowed his head and shuffled home. Then the gang began swapping their stamps. Five, for a stamp each, gathered about the talking-machine, and slapped their booted legs, and writhed in glee, and cried, 'Ain't that the limit?' While those who had no stamps coming stood sullenly around and scowled blackly at Tib.
"And he noticed their evil looks, and, picking out Slouchy Williams, declared: 'Mr. Williams, another of those furtive, sidelong, venomous glances at me ​will result in no stamp to-morrow. Be sunny in looks if you can^t be sunny in your heart. You can't eat your cake and have it. Don't try to pick a quarrel with Little Bob again. That's why you lost your chance to-day.'
"Well, sir, it was simply beautiful to see Slouchy throw amiability into his gnarled countenance. His eyes showed green, while his bearded lips cracked in an awful contortion meant for a sweet smile. Every time he caught Tib's eye he would fracture his face with merriment.
"The majority of the gang took immensely to the idea. They began to realize that, although left out one day, they might enjoy the good things on the next. There was a fascination, too, in seeing who would be passed by at each nightly assembly. The big fellow, Gumpy, was so good the second day that Tib gave him three stamps, and he ate a small jar of strawberries, had his reefer mended by Tib, and cried over 'My Old Kentucky Home,' while Daggett, fallen from grace, was denied all of these pleasures.
"‘I am simply showing you, gentlemen, that it really pays to be proper. There is no investment that will bring such big returns as decency,' explained Tib, as he waved Daggett aside with some beans and onions. 'Now, Slouchy yesterday wanted to kill Little Bob. To-day he helped Little Bob ​mend his rocker. Some different, eh? Something cheery cropping out, eh? Good nature assaying top high, eh? Billy, give Slouchy four tickets for trying to reform,' And Slouchy^s face glowed with pride as he squandered his surplus.
"‘But I want ter hear "Blue Bells o' Scotland,"’ groaned Daggett.
"‘Go and listen in a sea-shell,' advised Tib, kindly. 'If you can't be desirable, your existence will consist largely of potatoes. Another time don't tell a man he has only one choice of locating a claim in the future state, and that it won't be Alaska weather. Leave something to the imagination.'
"‘What? Can't I cuss at my work, jest to ease my mind?' cried Daggett.
"‘No, siree! No profanity goes in this camp,' declared Tib, as he loaned a man a picture-book for two stamps.
"‘That's proper,' affirmed Ruddy Mac, who at times was most impolite in his language. 'Dag got a stamp yesterday, and now he thinks he can run the whole damned shooting-match.'
"‘No stamp for you to-morrow, Mr. Mac,' snapped Tib.
"Mac gulped back a throatful of expletives, grew blue in the face, but mildly said, 'All right, Mr. Smith.'
​"‘And don't think this ruling means you have a day to riot in,' cautioned Tib, slowly.
"‘All right, Mr. Smith,' choked Mac.
"And the crowd went wild, sir; for Mac was their leader, and they saw Tib was playing no favorites. 'It 'll teach ye ter keep a clean tongue in yer head,' reproached Sausage Joe, the biggest coward in the camp. 'I'm ashamed that a man of yer years should act so.'
"Mac wheeled with fist drawn back, then grew limp. Water was in his eyes as he sobbed: 'Lad—ha, ha! Let's be merry! Lad, sometimes you stand in the valley of the shadow and don't know it. Oh, I wouldn't harm a fellow-creetur for a bushel of rewards of merit, but if—wow!' And he ran away from the chortling group as fast as his long legs would carry him.
"‘If I thought, boys, that any of you were deriding a worthy member of Red Ant, your cards wouldn't be good at the box-office for a week,' said Tib, softly.
"The teasing laughter was instantly squelched, and you never saw such sad faces in your life. But every now and then a man would go outside and cough violently.
"Well, sir, Tib's game swept 'em off their feet. It also swept away all-night parties, and the men began to send more dust home. A drunk was a ​curiosity. Of course, they would take a beaker at home, but there was no more dancing on the green and trooping the colors around the merry May-pole. There were lots of books in stock, and Tib let these out at two stamps per week. Then he found a magic-lantern and pictures of other climes, and every time the whole camp, down to the last individual, was good for two days he'd give an illustrated lecture. And they liked that best of all! He'd been all over, and could give the atlas lots of points, and when he gave a talkfest on Africa or India's coral strands they were there, keen to listen.
"Of course, the man who indulged in pranks, or tried to shoot out the moon, and thus postponed the treat, was bound to become unpopular. The whole camp set aside Friday and Saturday for their extra- good-behavior days, and usually had the lecture Saturday night. Deaf Mitchell said he was tired of looking at pictures and not hearing any of the talk, and on a Saturday morning he threw a rock against our door just to stop the others' fun. When Tib and I overtook him he was surrounded by a score of miners in the woods, and one of them was busy throwing a rope over a branch. One end of the rope was decorated with a noose.
"‘We's jest tryin' a little innercent game, Mr. Smith, and Mitch here stopped ter watch us. Didn't ye, Mitch?' spoke up Gumpy.
​"‘Sure, Gump; an' now I guess I'll trot back with Mr. Smith,' replied Mitchell, fervently, taking hold of Tib's hand and gazing down on the top of his head affectionately. 'An' say, store-keeper, I's taken crazy with th' heat a few minutes ago, an' may have damaged yer door. If I did, don't hold back yer picter talk an' pester th' dear old boys on my account. Take it all out of my hide.'
"‘He don't think he'll be troubled with them fits ag'in,' explained Mac, gravely, following behind us, rope in hand.
"‘I think if he shets off on red licker fer a few months his health 'll be better,' prescribed Little Bob.
"‘Since it was all a mistake, and seeing that he is to drink no more, I guess I won't charge anything for the rock,' smiled Tib.
"‘Oh, he won't drink no more. He's took the pledge; ain't ye, Deafy?' asked Mac.
"‘Sure,' whimpered Deafy, who loved fire-water worse than an Injun.
"Only once did the imps try to break the combination. First, Gumpy came to Tib and explained the morrow was his birthday, and that, although no stamps were due him, he wanted a few on credit. Said his old mother always celebrated the day, and he liked to observe it. Tib melted in a second and passed out six stamps, but warned him his aged ​parent would feel it keenly if she knew he had to borrow the fruits of respectability. Well, next came Little Bob, and he had a birthday he wanted to embroider. He was on the naughty list, but Tib fixed him out. Then came Tuttle, also blacklisted; ditto Johnson—and each had a birthday with no stamps due them. Tib began to look solemn, but delivered the goods to each man.
"But on the next roll-call he gave a little lecture on honesty that would take the kinks out of a wire door-mat. It certainly was tart. He drew pictures of about every form of rascality, and then showed how these weaknesses are all praiseworthy pursuits compared with malicious falsifying. And it stung 'em to the quick, sir! No one answered back, but several days later the bogus birthday claimants, after being as good as the gold they'd dug out, came up in a body and admitted they were unregenerate liars. Then they laid down the amount of their embezzlement and slouched off.
"Then Tib played a big card, and I trembled for my job. He decided the time was ripe to forbid Sunday labor. He labored with them and offered three extra stamps for each Sabbath spent free from work. He told them he had noticed several were breaking down under the strain, and he invited them to come to the store, and loll back and smoke a pipe, and listen to a chapter from the Bible, and imagine ​they could hear the church-bells in old New England. They kicked, and kicked hard, but Tib was like the granite of his native Vermont, and at last Ruddy Mac concluded: 'It's blessed tough, boys, but I reckon it's right, and if I see any man working on Sunday I shall feel like smashing him. Of course, I wouldn't,' he hastened to add, as Tib elevated his brows in surprise and reached for the demerit book. 'Of course I wouldn't, but I might feel like it. No harm in that, is there, Mr. Smith?'
"‘Well, I don't know,' mused Tib, still retaining the fatal book. 'Of course, it isn't good form to encourage violent thoughts. But you were honest in confessing, and we'll let it go this time. Billy, give Mr. Mac a stamp for extra honesty.'
"Then what might seem to be a flaw in the system was shown up. And yet it wasn't a flaw. Tib's system was all correct, but the human system in Red Ant hadn't been chastened sufficiently. On Mac's birthday—a genuine one—the crowd got permission to celebrate all night, providing none was unfit for work on the morrow. During the festivities Slouchy Williams decoyed all of those who had saved up rewards of merit into a poker game and cleaned out the lot. At the wind-up they wagered their stamps. When Tib faced the sad-eyed losers next day he docked them for two days' stamps, while Williams was denuded for a week.
​"‘And does Slouchy git value received for those stamps?' asked Mac, humbly.
"‘Certainly,' declared Tib, promptly, 'I shall always honor one of these stamps.'
"Williams grinned broadly, and stated that he would start in on the morrow and take a holiday while earning no stamps, and incidentally monopolize the talking-machine. Tib readily assented, but that night he unpacked some blank records and for several hours quoted into the machine from the Bible. 'I guess Mr. Williams will have earned his holidays,' he grinned to me, as he quit.
"Next morning the entire gang accompanied Slouchy to the cabin. They sighed as he gravely threw down a wad of stamps and asked his followers kindly to keep quiet so as not to disturb him. Then he slipped on a roll, and the buzzer began to glide. Well, say, if you could have seen the look of horror on his rugged face as he saw the writing on the wall! It simply sent him pasty white in a minute. For Tib, in picking out those verses that are licensed to jar an unwholesome man, had liberally supplied Slouchy's name to the text, and the warnings had an unpleasant personal trend. 'Oh, ye generation of vipers! Oh, ye Slouchy Williams!' rippled the record in Williams's astounded ear. 'Woe unto them that rise up early in the morning, that they may follow strong drink and play poker. Woe unto them ​that mace their brothers and presume upon their loot. Oh, woe unto Slouchy Williams and his sin. As the fire devoureth the stubble, and the flame consumeth the chaff, so shall Slouchy Williams melt away if he doesn't repent of his evil ways. Woe unto you, Slouchy! Woe! woe! woe!'
"Then he gasped and tried another; but, bless you, sir! they were all loaded for the sinful, and Slouchy staggered to his feet crying that he had had enough.
"‘No,' contradicted Tib, gravely, 'I've taken your stamps and you must take the goods. I appeal to the gentlemen present.'
"Ruddy Mac got wise in a second, and with a glad gleam in his sombre eye he thoughtlessly hitched his belt around front and observed, 'Of course, no one here would hurt ye. Slouch, but just listen to the machine. That's all: listen!'
"And Williams sank back in his seat and heard the whole programme. He took it all at one sitting, and two hours later we saw him throwing whiskey-bottles and cards into the creek. He even asked if it would be all right to retain his pipe and tobacco. Tib told him it was perfectly correct to do this.
"‘Jest as ye say, Mr. Smith. I feel like makin' a sacrifice, an' I'll heave th' pipe after th' other sin traps if ye say so.'
"So it wasn't a flaw, after all, and Red Ant became the cleanest and most upright camp in all the ​Yukon diggings. And then, just as Tib had arranged for several brand-new reforms, the creek leaped its banks and washed us all out. It was something the system couldn't help.
"After the flood subsided the men found the diggings had been washed out, and sorrowfully they separated for new fields, each a leaven for good wherever he should settle. Tib and I with a meager stake went back to Dawson. I say 'meager'; it was a minim. It was so slight and frail, and there were so many things we could not buy with it that we went hungry for several hours after arriving, trying to decide whether we should lavish it all on one square meal, or have it made into a scarf-pin.
"Just as we had reached the zenith of our discussion, and I was urging food against Tib's artistic inclination for a specimen of the gold-worker's art, who should approach us but Slouchy Williams, most dishevelled and gaunt.
"‘Mr. Smith,' he faltered, fishing nervously in his jeans, 'here's three trading-stamps I brought away with me. You know you always said you'd honor 'em, an' I reckon if it wasn't for th' big water I'd had a bale on 'em by this time.'
"‘What will you take?' inquired Tib, absent-mindedly, reverting to his old rôle of store-keeper. 'Any demerits against Mr. Williams, Billy?'
​"I'm dyin' for a feed,' groaned Slouchy, hugging his stomach in the true Smike style.
"Tib instantly produced our small hoard and pressed in into his clutching hands, and said, 'I redeem the stamps. I hope, Mr. Williams, when we meet again there will be no black marks against you.'
"And thus did the prize-package of Scrubine place us on a footing that allowed no further debate—dead-broke.