The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1891-01-08

| lnQlgnaGlOn. ulVluou DoGW6on Inc posi-
office authorities and the new contract-
or, and sympathy for her father.
Never you mind, dad" she said at
last; "don't you worry a little bit. I'll
see that we don't suffer at all. I'll
take hand at eating q few dollars;
and maybe someone will be sorry that
you didn't get the contract, one oil
these days"
But Joe Bixby hadn't lived nearly
sixty years for nothing. He knew
just about how much weight it was
safe to attach to the promises or
threats OF an excited young woman.
He let his daughter say her say but
his heavy heart wasn't lightened
worth cent.
About two weeks after his services
were dispensed with by Uncle Sans
postmaster-general, Joe Bixby saddled
the old horse and announced his in
tention Of visiting Tinker's Flat
''To-morrow's pay day at the mine" "
he said to his wife," and I can collect
two or three little bills which some of
the boys owe me-"
He reached the flat that evening,
and the following day collected the
''little bills" On the second morning
of his absence from home be prepared
to make his return.
But the Tinker's Flat postmaster,
an old friend of Bixby's, accosted him
outside the post-oftice.
"Bixby! By the Lord, the very
man l want! See here, Joe!'
Postmaster Burlington led the way
to the barn in the rear of his official
premises. and pointed to man lying
upon some straw. dead drunk.
Joe recognized the fellow and
grunted. Mice state of affairs, amt
it, Joe? Here, it's an hour past time
for the mail to start for Denver, and
that booty carrier won't be fit for any
thing for twenty-four hours!''
Joe grunted again, as if he would
say it was none of his business.
YOU'RE used to the job, Joe. Will
you do it? to oblige me, Bixby, and I'll
guarantee it shall be worth twenty
dollars to you. There's the wagon,
and there's the horse. The mails all
ready-what do you say?"
"pll say this, Bluff. " replied Joe.
ITO oblige you and for no other rea-
son, I'll do the job. No, I won't say
that, either; for I need the money.
Get your mail together. while 1 hitch
up"
So Bixby hitched up, and mounted
the new, gaily painted mail wagon
which the Denver contractor put upon
the route. 1t was specially con-
structed four-wheel rig, with just
small seat for the driver over a strong
lock-box. In this box Postmaster
Burlington placed the mail, and Bixby
noticed that the bag for registered
packages was particularly heavy-the
the result of payday. y &.~a.s .r..s 4
Joe Bixby was in bad shape. Al
though his earnings had been good for
four years, he had with Nelrs able
assistance) lived beyond his means.
he was in debt, and to large extent
AS he drove the mail through that
lonely country he had many a fight
with his conscience. He knew that
under his seat was pouch containing,
perhaps, some thousands of dollars,
and all 10 currency. He knew that he
could get away with it very easily,
and the tempter told him that by so
doing. he could pay off his grudge
against the postofice people.
But Joe got the better of the ugly
tempter: by God, nor' he shouted
aloud. Whatever you've been, Joe
blxoy' up to the present time, you've
been man-a square man! Get up
there" he grunted to the horse.
Late in the afternoon he changed
horses at place not many miles from
MS home. With this horse he was to
complete the journey to Denver,
where he was due at six o'clock in the
morning. As darkness came on the
old fellow, from force of habit, ex-
amlned the heavy revolver in his coat
pocket. It was all right-everv
chamber loaded, and the action of tho
pistol first-rate.
1t was dark night, and none but
an old-timer could have driven horse
with any safety along such a poor
road.
Suddenly the horse stopped short
and Bixby's sharp eyes could Just dis
Germ the shadow of man right ahead.
facing him. ':At last, by thunder?''
muttered the old fellow, who rightly
OWNED that he had a road agent tn
deal with.
''Throw up!' said the robber in a.
low, but distinct voice, at the same
time raising two pistols.
NOT by - sightp responded
Bixby. ~
For four years the old man had been
ready to grab that bulldog from his
coat pocket aud shoot He was ready
own. He blazed away with it at the
hlOh b.