The Washington herald., 1911-11-18
CHAPTER XXXVI.
The Judge Receive. a Letter.
By VAUGHAN KESTER

The Judge Receives Letter.
After he had parted with Solomon
Mahaffy the Judge applied himself dill
gently to shaping that mIracle-work-
ing document which he was preparing
as an Offset to whatever risk he ran in
meeting Fentress. AS sanguine as he
was sanguinary he confidently expect
ed to survive the encounter, yet 1t was
well to provide for a possible emer-
gency-had he not his-grandson's fu-
ture to consider? While thus occupied
he saw the afternoon stage arrive and
depart from before the City Tavern.
Half an hour later Mr.. Wesley, the
postmaster, came sauntering up the
street. In his hand he carried letter.
'rHowdy," he drawled, from beyond
the judges open door.
The judge glanced UP. his quill pen
poised aloft.
Good evening, sir: won't you step
inside and be seated?" he asked gra-
ciously. His dealings with the United
States mail service were OF the most
insignificant description. and in per-
sonally delivering letter, II this was
what had brought him there, he felt
Mr.. Wesley had reached the limit Of
official courtesy and dispatch.
We'll, sir; 1t looked like you'd never
told us more than two-thirds of the
TRUTH" said the postmaster. He sur
veyed the. Judge curiously.
II am complimented by your opinion
Of my veracity," responded that gentle
man promptly. 'T consider two-thirds
an enormously high per cent to have
achieved"
There is something in that, too"
agreed Mr.. wesley. Who Is Col. Slo-
cum Price Turberville?"
The judge started up from his chair.
IT have that honor" said he. bowing.
We'll, here's a letter come IN ad-
dressed like that, and as you've been
using part Of the name I am willing to
assume you're legally entitled to the rest
of It.. 1t clears up a point that on and
on has troubled me considerable. can
only wonder 1 want smarter"
what point, may I ask7''
why about the time you hung out
your shingle here, some one wrote let
ter to Gen. Jackson. 1t was mailed
after night, and when I seen It In the
morning ] was clean beat. couldn't
locate the handwriting. and yet kept
that letter back a couple Of days and
give it all my spare time. 1t amt that
I'm one of your spying sort-there's
nothing OF the Yankee about me?'
Certainly not" agreed the judge.
Candid, Judge, reckon you wrote
that letter, seeing this one comes under
couldn't make out who was correspond
ing with the President, and 1t worried
me, not knowing, more than anything
I've had to contend against since I came
into Office. / calculate there amt
postmaster IN the United States takes
more personal interest in the service
than me. I've frequently set patrons
right when they was-in doubt as to the
date they had mailed such and such
A ANNn
celed as many as three or four stamps In
a single day he might have been par
doned his pride In a brain which thus
lightly dealt with the burden of official
business He surrendered the letter with
marked reluctance.
Your surmise is correct" said the
Judge with dignity. 'T had occasion to
write my friend, Gen. jackson, and un-
less / am greatly mistaken I have my
difference he tossed the letter on the
table.
And do you know Old Hickory
cried Mr.. Wesley.
why not? Does 1t surprise your
inquired the judge. 1t was only his In
nate courtesy which restrained him from
kicking the postmaster into the street.
so intense was his desire to be rid Of
him.
mo; I don't know as 1t, does, judge.
Naturally a public man like him Is IN
the way OF meeting with all sorts. A
politician can't afford to be too blame
particular. Well. next time you write
you might Just send him my regards-G.
w. NJ. de l. Wesley's regards-there
was considerably contention over my get
ting this ONCE; reckon he amt forgot.
There was speeches made, understand
the lie was passed between two United
States Senators, and that quid OF to-
baeco was throwed In anger" Having
thus clearly established the fact that he
was more or less national character.
Mr.. Wesley took himself on.
When he had disappeared from sight
down the street. the judge closed the
door. Then he picked up the letter. For
q long minute he held II IN his hand
fearful. while hs mind slipped
back into the past. until his inward
searching vision ferreted out hand
some soldierly fgure-his own.
That's what Jackson remembers. q