Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1904-04-15

II II the train had dashed into Nc
Kibben's Corners. and the mall
had been delivered at the store and
postoffice.
John Falrjohn, the postmaster, had
opened the bag and counted the letters
There were, as he made out, just ten,
and one was larger than the others
found that he had left his glasses on
the newspaper in the back room, and
without his glasses he could not read n
line; and SO, OF course. he had gone
after them, returning to find two per-
sons In the store-Farmer Roper and
Squire McKibben, whose ancestors had
given name to the place.
wet, amt it?' said Mr.. Fairjohn,
nodding.
wet or not, our folks amt going to
do without their groceries, you see,'
said the squire. Malls in, see The
train came near running into my truck,
too. Wasn't noticing the flag, and
drove across just in time to save my
self. Any letters for me?'
"Pll see." said Mr.. Fairjohn
He turned to the little pile of en-
velopes and told them over in his hand
like a deck of cards.
why, there's only nine,' he said
"I'm sure l counted right. / counted
ten, and | thought one had a red seal
l might as we'll give up the Office If I'm
going to lose my senses like that There
wasn't anyone in here while | was
gone, was there, squire?'
"Only Roper and l." said the squire,
land Roper's son. But he didn't come
In. did hep"
NO" said old Roper Il don't think
that Job came in at all. He just went
Off somewhere.
Well" said the postmaster, after
another search, well. | must be mis-
taken. Yes, there is letter for you
your folks, any way-and something
for you, Mr.. Roper, And you wouldn't
you pass?"
'Oh, no." said Farmer Roper. "Give
1t to me. That's from Smith that's
clerking 1t In New York, | reckon.
Can't get any of EN- to stay and
farm"
"0h, my son Job. He'd try the pa
uence Of his namesake," said Farmer
Roper. MY sou Job, BAH
Just at that moment the door of the
store opened, and there entered at It a
little woman dressed in cheap calico.
and wrapped in thin and faded
shawl
She looked timidly about the store,
still more timidly at the heap of let
tiers, and then. In an appealing voice
like that of a frightened child said:
MIR. Fairjohn, is there any letter for
me this timer
The postmaster. who was a little
deaf, had turned his head away and
did not know that she had entered. and
she came closer to the counter and the
light upon 1t before she spoke again
She was faded little woman, and her
face had signs Of grief written upon It.
but she was neither old nor ugly yet
and there was something In the damp
curls clustering under the faded calico
hood. and in the little round, dimpled
chin. absolutely childlike even yet
rs there a letter for me this time
Mr.. Fairjohn?" she said again; and
now the postmaster looked up
NO, there amt; and you're fool
for taking such walk TO ask" said
he, with rough kindness. Wouldn't
have sent it If 1t had come. Mrs. Les
ter?"
We'll. you see. l felt in hurry to
get It," said she. you can't blame me
for being in hurry. it's so long"
That's true" said the postmaster
"Wel, better luck next time. But why
don't you wait? Mr.. McKibben will
take you over when he goes. He pass
es your corner"
Yes, wait, Mrs. Lester" cried Mr..
McKibben, "Pll take We and welcome"
But she had answered:
Thank you l don't mind walking"
and was gone.
Keeps 1t up. don't sheT asked the
postmaster.