The Winslow mail., 1910-01-29
One evening he told us.

instead OF painted butterfly III the
hardest worked man in this country.
My job is private secretary to the
president of this republic, and my du-
les are running it. I'm not head
ined in the bills, but I'm the mustard
u the salad dressing. There isn't a
law goes before congress, there isn't
concession granted, there isn't an
import duty levied, but what H. P.
Mellinger he cooks and seasons it. In
the front office / fill the presidents
tnkstand and search visiting states
men for dynamite; in the back room
dictate the policy of the government.
Boys, I'm to hold soiree this
evening with gang of leading citi-
zeDs. and ! want your assistance. You
bring the musical corn shelter and
give the affair the ouside appearance
Of a function There's important bust.
ness on hand, but it mustn't show. ]
can talk to you people. I've been
panied for years on account of not
having anybody to blow off and brag
TO. I get homesick sometimes, and
I'd swap the entire perquisites of
Office for Just one hour to have
stein and caviare sandwich some
where on Thirty-fourth street, and
stand and watch the street cars go
by, and smell the peanut roaster at
old Giuseppe's fruit stand
"'Yes, said !, there's the caviare at
Billy Renfrow's cafe, corner of Thir-
ty-fourth and"
God knows, it, iterrupts Mellin-
ger, and if you'd told me you knew
Billy Renfrow I'd have invented tons
of ways of making you happy. Billy
was my side kicker in New York.
That is man who never knew what
crooked was. Here / am working
Honesty for graft, but that man
loses money on it. Carrambos! | get
sick at times of this country. Every
things rotten. From the executive
down to the coffee pickers, they're
plotting to down each other and skin
their friends. If a mule driver takes
off his hat to an official, that man
figures it out that he's popular idol,
and sets his pegs to stir up revolu-
ton and upset the administration. It's
one of my little chores as private Sec
retary to smell out these revolutions
and affix the kibosh before they break
out and scratch the paint off the gov
ernment property. That's why I'm
down here now in this mildewed coast
town. The governor of the district
and his crew are plotting to uprise.
I've got every one of their names, and
they're invited to listen to the phon-
ograph tonight, compliments of II. p.
M. That's the way I'll get them i'll
bunch and things are on the program
to happen to them
"We three were sitting at table in
the cantina of the Purified Saints.
Mellinger poured out wine, and was
looking some worried; | was thinking.
They're a sharp crowd. he says,
kind of fretful. They're capitalized
by a foreign syndicate after rubber.
and they're loaded to the muzzle for
bribing. Pm SICK goes on Mellinger,
of comic opera. | want to smell East
River and wear suspenders again. AT
times l feel like throwing up my job,
of proud of it, There's Mellinger,"
they say here, "Por Dios! you can't
touch him with a million" I'd like
to take that record back and show it
to Billy Renfrow some day, and that
tightens my grip whenever / see fat
thing that could corral just by wink
ing one eye-and losing my graft.
"Mellinger appears shaky, and
breaks his glass against the neck of
the bottle.
81 says to myself, White man, if I'm
not mistaken there's been bait laid
out where the tail Of your eye could
see it,
"That night according to arrange
ments, me and Henry took the phon-
ograph to a room in 'dobe house in
a dirty side street, where the grass
was knee high. Twas long room,
lit with smoky oil lamps. There was
plenty of chairs and table at the
back end.
"By and by the invitations to the
musicale came sliding in by pairs and
threeS and spade f1uShes. Their color
was of a diversity, running from a
three days smoked meerscEaum to a
patent leather polish. They were as
polite as wax, being devastated with
enjoyments to give Senor MellingeT
the good evenings. l understood their
Spanish talk-I ran pumping engine
two years in a Mexican silver mine,
and had it pat-but l never let on.
Maybe fifty of 'em had come, and
seated, when in slid the king bee, the
governor of the district. Mellinger
met him at the door, and escorted him
to the stand. When l saw that Latin
man | knew that Mellinger, private
secretary, had all the dances on his
card taken That was big, squashy
man, the color of rubber overshoe,
and he had an eye like head walters.
"Mellinger explained, fluent, in the
Castilian idioms, that his soul was