St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1922-05-13

~
A boW-Iegged little man In n cheap.
7rinkled silt with silk kerchief
NOTED l.,os:sIy round Ills ncc!l stopped
IN front Of window where girl was
selling stamps.
i Wantta see the postmaster
"Corrid'y'right. Takel'vatorthir'Go door
left" size said, just as though it were
two words.
At that the freckled-face little fellow
opened wider his skim-milk eyes and
his J" eak mouth. "Come again, ma am,
please"
"Corrid'y'right. Takel'vatorthir'd door
left" she repeated Next
The inquirer knew us much as he
did before, but he lacked the courage
to ask for All English translation. He
shnf1led away from the window and
wandered helplessly, swept up by the
/ tide Of hurrying people that flowed
continuously into the building and
ebbed out Of it. From this he was
tossed into backwater that brought
| him to another window.
Il wantta see the postmaster of this
burg" he announced again with q
| plaintive whine.
what about 7" asked the man back
| of the grating.
Important business, amigo. Where's
| he at?''
The man directed him to door upon
which was printed the legend, Super
fnfapfnpf ~ IND
We'll, sir What can / do for your"
the man behind the big desk snapped.
Il wantta ssee the postmaster
"What aboutT
II got important business with him"
''Who are your
Me, I'm Johnnie Green OF the Bin
a-Box ranch. just drapped in from
Arizona and Wantta see the postmas-
ter"
Suppose you tell your troubles to
me-
Johnnie >ehanged his weight to the
other foot. mo, sub, allow. to see
the. postmaster himself personal"
Hes busy" explained the official.
Gle can't possibly see anybody with
out knowing his business"
''That's all right. I've lost my pal.
/ wantta see s@
The superintendent of complaints
cut into his parrot-like repetition.
"Yes, you mentioned that. But the
postmaster doesn't know where he Is,
does he?"
''He might tell me where his mail
goes, as the old sayin' Is"
''When did you lose your friendT'
Il amt heard from him since he
come to New York. SO bein' as got
chanel to go from Tucson with
jackpot trainload Of cows to Denver,
kinda made up my mind to come on
here the rest Of the way and look him
up. I'm afraid some ones done him
Dirt
"Do you know where he's stayingT
''No, sub, don't"
The superintendent Of complaints
tapped with his fingers on the desk.
Then he smiled. The postmaster was
fond Of Joke Why not let this odd
little freak from the West have an In
terview with him?
Twenty minutes later Johnnie was
telling his story to the postmaster Of
the city Of New York. He had written
three times to Clay Lindsay and had
+ received no answer. So he had come
to look for him.
us your friend like your" asked the
postmaster, interested in spite of him
self.
mo sun Johnnie, alias the Runt,
began to beam. Hes sure-enough
go-getter, Clay is, every jump Of the
road. I'd follow his dust any day OF
the week. He's the livest proposition
that ever come out of Graham county.
You can ce'tain1y gamble on that"
The postmaster touched a button. A
! clerk appeared, received orders, and
disappeared.
The clerk presently returned with
three letters addressed to Clay Lind
say, General Delivery, New York. The
postmaster handed them to. the little
COW puncher.
"Evidently he never called for them"
he said
Johnnie's chin fell. He looked pic
ture Of helpless woe. They're the let
ters / set down an wrote MIN my own
sell. Something has sure happened to
| that boy, looks like" he bemoaned.
"We'll try police headquarters. May
be we can get a line on your rriend'
the postmaster said, reaching for the
telephone. "Bul you must remember
New York Is a big place. It's not like
your Arizona ranch. The city has
nearly eight million Inhabitants. You'H
understand that when one man gets
lost it isn't always possible to ind
him"
"Why not? We got some steers, down
In nv country-about as many as you
| got men III this here town Of YOU'RE.
Tha's What we ride the range for. SOS
! not 10 lose EN- We've traced B-1n-a-
Box steer clear from Tucson to Den
| yer, done 1t nore'n onet or twice too.
| l notice you got 9 big bunch q man-
| punclers in uniform here. Amt It their
| business to rustic up strayst
'.The police said the postmaster,
| amused. .rtlat is part Of their Dusi-
ness. Wen pass the buck to them
anyhow"